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pascalpanic · 3 years

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The Graveyard Shift (Frankie Morales x gn!reader)

Summary: Frankie works overnight shifts at the local mechanic. Tonight, both of you are awake at a late hour.

W/C: 2.3k

Warnings: language, food and eating, talk of not being able to sleep, otherwise fluff

A/N: this idea has been in my head all week I had to! Hope you like it :)

Frankie may be a real insomniac, but tonight you’re feeling like he might have rubbed off on you. Your bed is normally your favorite place, your haven and escape from life. It’s a place to rest and cuddle your teddy bear of a boyfriend, where you can close your eyes and let go of reality. Unfortunately, that glorious disconnect from reality isn’t finding you tonight. You toss and turn in your bed for what feels like hours. Who knows how long it really is?

You try laying on your side. On your back. On your stomach. Legs sprawled out, with no Frankie in the bed to occupy your space. Still, nothing is comfortable. You’re cold without the blankets and hot with them on. The pillows are flat or too squishy. Nothing works.

Frankie’s on the night shift tonight, leaving your bed empty enough for you to toss and turn. Your boyfriend works as a mechanic at a local 24-hour garage, and every week or so he takes the overnight shift. It’s just part of the job. Of course, you don’t mind; he does what he has to. The only downside is the chill in your bed where Frankie’s warm body usually lies.

You try to avoid your phone, checking your alarm clock for the time rather than looking at the blue light and messing up any more chances you have at sleep. But then an hour progresses, and another, and now it’s 1:20 in the morning and sleep is nowhere to be found. You give in and check your phone, sighing.

Frankie can’t possibly be busy. The shop rarely ever gets a car after the sun sets, but it’s worth it to be the only shop in the area open at night. It means more business when someone’s in desperate need. You know he’s awake, and the odds of a car being in the shop now are slim. Maybe talking with him will help you fall asleep.

Deciding to give it a shot, you call his phone. It rings for a few moments, then continues and finally you reach his voicemail, hearing his gentle voice announcing that he’ll call you right back. You frown and set it down only for the phone to ring again. It’s him.

“Hey, babe,” Frankie’s voice speaks through the phone. He sounds tired. Well, you suppose it’s natural. It’s late at night, even if Frankie is practically nocturnal. “Sorry. My hands were covered in grease so I had to wash them before I picked up. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s good,” you inform him, your voice groggy from the lack of sleep you’ve found despite hours of lying here. “Just can’t sleep. How’s work?”

You can hear a metallic clanking as he moves some tools around. “Fine. Just a usual night shift, working on this car that’s an absolute piece of shit. Got oil all over myself.”

The thought makes you smile; Frankie’s grumpy face when something goes wrong, the sigh of exasperation as those dark blue coveralls are stained dark with the car’s oil. “Good job, babe.”

Frankie is rolling his eyes on the other end. You can tell. “Really great job, yeah. How are things at home?”

“Same here. Nothing exciting. Just… can’t sleep and missing you.”

“Missing you too. God, it’s so boring here,” he groans. “I’ll finish this car pretty damn quick then have nothing to do all night. And I’m so goddamn hungry.”

Your eyes light up with an idea and you’re silent as you ponder the idea, long enough for Frankie to be concerned. “What is it?”

“Can I come visit you?” You ask him, a grin crossing your sleepy face. Your eyes are still shut from the weight they carry right now, but your face is clearly happy. “I’ll bring food.

There’s a frown on his face; that much you know for certain. “Babe, it’s late. You should sleep.”

“Francisco, for the love of God. I’m awake right now because I can’t fall asleep. Would you mind a visitor?”

He sighs but you know you’ve won. It makes you smile even wider as you clutch a pillow to your chest. He can barely get the words out before you interrupt. “Great! What are you hungry for?”

There’s another beat of quiet as he thinks. “Let’s order a pizza.”

Late night pizza: Frankie’s biggest weakness besides you. “Perfect. You put in the order and I’ll be there soon. I love you, baby.”

“Love you too. See you then.” Frankie hangs up.

No one else will be around. You know Frankie works these late shifts alone, so you don’t bother to put on anything nicer. Pushing back the covers and bracing for the chill, you stand and slide on a pair of shoes, allowing your pajamas to suffice.

The air is cold as you leave your shared home, and at the last second you grab one of Frankie’s flannels and wrap yourself in it. The night air is chilly around you, the dark sky contrasting the bright lights as you turn on your car. Teeth chattering from the cold, and turning down the air conditioning in your car, you set out on your route to Frankie’s workplace.

There’s no one else on the road besides a spare car or two flying past, neglecting to turn off their high beams for you. It doesn’t matter; if anything, it wakes you up more. When you finally park outside of the building, you rub your eyes desperately hard in hopes of waking yourself up more. It doesn’t really work, but you pretend it does as you pocket your keys and walk inside.

“Hi, I’m here for an oil change?” You call out teasingly into the large garage, entering through an open bay.

Frankie rolls out from beneath a car on a dolley, eyes lighting up at the sight of you. “Don’t even bring that up now.” He sits up, removes his earbuds, and unsnaps the top half of his coveralls, taking off the top half and tying it around his waist. He removes his gloves and meets you halfway into the garage, kissing you softly and laughing as the brim of his hat bumps against your forehead. “Hey, cutie.”

“Hi,” you beam, kissing him once more. “You look hot in this. Very Danny Zuko.”

“Mhm, and this piece of shit is Greased Lightning,” he laughs and pats the hood of the car he was previously beneath. It’s ugly, brown in color and rusted with a grungy looking interior. “I don’t know why they don’t just scrap this thing. It’s not worth the money.”

Your arms remain wrapped around Frankie’s middle, resting your head against his shoulder as you admire the crappy car. “Honestly, I gotta agree,” you laugh and nudge his side so the two of you can move closer to a workbench. “Here.” You offer him the crappy blanket you brought to sit on. “Tell me the best place to set up.”

“Right here, really,” Frankie shrugs and unfolds the blanket, laying it down over the oil-stained concrete. “You get comfortable. I’ll go put on a clean pair of coveralls.” He kisses your head as you sit cross-legged on the blanket, pulling his flannel tighter around yourself. “And stop stealing my clothes!” He calls over his shoulder before retreating into the back.

“You know you love it!” You shout back with a laugh, leaning against the side of the beat-up car.

Out of nowhere, the radio in the shop starts playing. It’s loud, making you jump at the sound of the KISS song that starts blasting. With that, Frankie returns from the back, wearing a clean pair of blue coveralls with that embroidered Catfish patch over his heart. His curls peek out from beneath his cap, and he scratches at the scruff of his beard. “Way to scare the shit out of me!”

“Sorry,” he laughs, adjusting the volume back down from the garage control before making his way over to you. “Just thought we could use some music.”

“I guess,” you grumble, though it’s clear there’s no ill will when he sits next to you and you nuzzle into his side, sighing as he drapes his arm across your shoulders. “Didn’t have to freak me out like that though.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he laughs and kisses your head, leaning back against the car too and letting his head fall back.

No sooner do the two of you get comfortable, nestled into each other’s arms and taking a breath of relaxation, is there a knock at the glass. It’s the pizza delivery, a guy who looks exhausted, just like most normal people would be at this hour. “Be right back.” Frankie kisses your nose and stands, groaning as his joints creak and his back pops.

“Grandpa.” You tease with a grin.

“Stuff it.”

He pays for the order, giving the delivery guy a generous tip for delivering food at this hour of night. Frankie returns with the box and you shimmy in happiness as he opens the box and the smell of the pizza wafts out of the cardboard.

Frankie pulls over a rolling dolley to set the food on, at least somewhat like a table. “Your fine dining experience, my love,” he chuckles as he sets down the box and a stack of napkins next to it. He sits across from you, once again groaning as he makes himself sit cross-legged to match you.

Taking a hold of the crust, you pull out a large slice, the cheese pulling from the center of the pizza. Sighing happily, you tear the cheese apart and pile it on top of the fully-topped pizza, complete with Frankie’s go-to order. Waiting for him and humming to the song, you finally take a bite when he does.

Both of you moan in happiness, laughing a little as each realizes that the other did the same. Once your mouthful of pizza has been swallowed, you grin at Frankie and he grins back. The shop is quiet, the dull rhythm of the oldies station playing in the background. There are no words, but there’s no need for them.

Frankie finishes his slice at about the same time as you, and your hands bump as you both reach for another piece, the one loaded with toppings. “Back off, Morales,” you laugh and swat his hand away, though your hand instantly moves for another piece.

“No, you can have it,” he says, brow furrowing as you leave the piece alone.

“It’s yours. You’re the one working; you deserve it.”

He knows you inside and out. He knows that there’s no arguing when you’ve made the decision, so he takes the piece with a loving “thank you”.

It takes hardly any time for either of you to finish the second piece. Leaning back against the car, your eyes finally shut and you sigh in relaxation. You have food, you have Frankie, and finally you’re starting to get tired. “What time is it now?”

“Late. You can sleep if you want.”

“I’m not tired,” you bluff, though your body slumps against the car, head falling to the side.

Frankie just shrugs and munches on another piece. He can’t help but smile at the sight: you’re in your pajamas and his flannel, falling asleep on the floor of the mechanic shop. He certainly never expected to see such a sight, but he grins at how cute you look like this.

By the time Frankie’s third slice is gone, you’re half-asleep, barely conscious, body holding what little tension and energy you have left. Frankie just leans back, watching you, still smiling at the sight.

He can see it happen when you finally do fall asleep. The tension in your back drifts away, your body slumping down against the car. Your face, which was scrunched in concentration of trying to stay awake, finally slips into the neutrally peaceful state of sleep.

Frankie closes the pizza box, standing and bringing it to the back. He can have some more later if he’s hungry; if not, he’ll send it home with you- later. For now, you need to rest.

His knees and back scream at him as he bends down, but Frankie squats in front of you and wakes you. “Hey, baby. You fell asleep. Come on, get on up and I’ll take you to the couch in the back.”

Your sleep-addled state doesn’t let you argue. You stand, still half-asleep, using Frankie’s hands to help you up. He wraps the clean side of the blanket around you, almost like a burrito, but leaves your legs enough room to walk. Holding onto your arm, so that you don’t trip thanks to your barely-opened eyes, he leads you to the break room in the back.

The old leather couch is beat up and worn, scratched and occasionally ripped from tools left in back pockets and too many years of careless plopping down after a long shift. Frankie makes sure your blanket is swaddled tightly around you and helps you lay down, chuckling at the burrito you make on the couch.

Frankie bends down and kisses your forehead. “I’ll be here if you need me. Just sleep now, babe.”

You murmur something in response, something that might’ve resembled words if you weren’t already fading out again.

Frankie doesn’t go too far, just across the room to the computer. He fires up the machine to check out the schedule for tomorrow, what the store needs to order more of, the usual. The thing that makes it better, maybe even enjoyable, are your soft snores from the couch behind him.

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grilledcheem · 4 years

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prompt : teen richie does something minor to piss eddie off and eddie gives him silent treatment all day but richie keeps annoying eddie to get him to talk to him which angers him more

this got away from me so uh it’s almost 2k. enjoy!

support me on my kofi

read on ao3

“Eddiebear has a teddy bear!” Richie’s voice rings out as he enters the clubhouse one summer afternoon, Eddie close behind him. The other Losers look up from the board game they were playing to watch the two friends argue.

“You asshole!” Eddie shouts, pushing Richie away as he tries to hug him from the side. “You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!”

Richie pouts a little, lip quivering in false shame. He sweeps his left arm in front of the two of them, gesturing to their friends. “It’s just us Losers, Eds, no need to get worked up about a silly toy.”

The look in Eddie’s eyes makes Richie regret his words as soon as they come out. There is anger there; blazing, heated, constant. There is anger and there is something that Richie could swear looks like sadness. He tries to backpedal, to apologize for teasing him but Eddie won’t look at him anymore. Eddie’s moved to sit between Bill and Mike, forcing his way into the circle. None of the other Losers say anything; they’re used to the two arguing but it’s never been this serious.

They all agree to start a new game so that Richie and Eddie aren’t just sitting there watching Stan win Monopoly. Richie suggests Twister and everyone groans; everyone except Eddie. Eddie is silent even though he usually speaks up against Richie’s insistence on playing that game. Richie sees this as his chance to tease Eddie, tricking him into speaking with him.

“Aw, Eds,” he coos. “No complaints about Twister? Guess you’ve finally succumbed to my charm.” He says this with a wink, wiggling his eyebrows at Eddie. Eddie’s face stays neutral as he turns to Bev and says, “I was thinking we could play Clue; does that sound alright?” Bev smiles, knowing that Eddie doesn’t want to talk to Richie right now, although she doesn’t know why. She agrees and soon the rest of the group, except for Richie, are all arguing over which character they want.

Richie hates Clue. He hates how he has to sit and think when games shouldn’t make you think, they should just be fun. There aren’t even enough characters for the whole group to play. He points this out and the look Eddie gives him tells him that that was the whole point of him picking it. A little hurt but mostly confused, Richie resigns himself to watching the game but it’s hard to focus when his mind keeps wandering to thoughts on why Eddie is so mad at him. He thinks back to when he saw the teddy bear, not seeing how anything that they talked about last night when he had snuck over could explain why Eddie reacted to weird. He wants to talk to Bill or Stan about it but they’re both so engrossed in the game and Richie doesn’t want to spoil their fun. To entertain himself and keep his thoughts from focusing on Eddie for too long, he starts commentating the game.

“Oh ho, my good chap,” he says, putting on a terrible English accent as Stan, who is playing as Colonel Mustard, brings Eddie’s character, Mr. Green, into the library. “Thank you for joining me in this wondrous library as we hunt for this mysterious killer who, by the way, is not me.” Bev and Mike chuckle under their breath as Richie carries on. “Quite right, quite right. Now would you do me the honor and the privilege of allowing me to bore you to death with a recitation of the facts?”

Eddie slams his hand down on the floor, startling the group and jostling some of the pieces. He doesn’t say anything but Richie can tell that it’s taking all of his willpower to not yell at him. Bill looks at Richie and gives him a sympathetic smile. “M-Maybe it’s best that you d-d-don’t commen-com-commentate, Rich.” Richie looks at Eddie for a moment, his hands shaking slightly as he realizes just how mad Eddie is with him. “Yeah, I guess you’re right, Bill.” He sits there for a moment, looking down at the board, at the game that had no room for him, and he sighs. “Actually, I’m just gonna head out. I, uh, just remembered something my mom wanted me to do.”

Everyone but Eddie murmurs their goodbyes as Richie leaves the clubhouse. Some part of him thinks Eddie will climb up after him, tell him to come back, tell him that he wasn’t really mad, he was just messing around. By the time Richie is on his bike and pedaling away, that part of him is gone.

It’s 7pm and the Tozier’s have just finished dinner; on any other summer evening, Richie would be running out the door to go sneak into Eddie’s room. Sometimes they’d just sit and talk for a while, maybe play a game or two. Sometimes Richie would spend the night, setting the alarm on Eddie’s clock so he can leave before Mrs. Kaspbrak finds them tangled in bed together. Platonically, of course, Richie’s mind reminds him and a hollow feeling takes over. He had been trying to decide whether to go over to Eddie’s tonight despite their argument earlier. It might give him a chance to apologize for real. It might set Eddie off again and he’d never want to see Richie again.

He’s washing the dishes from dinner in the sink, something that he does every night before heading to Eddie’s because he may be crass and make terrible “your mom” jokes but he loves his mother and he loves helping her out around the house. It makes him feel useful. Once the last plate has been washed, dried, and put away, Richie decides that if he doesn’t go over to Eddie’s tonight, he may not go over ever again. Dramatic, yes, but Richie knows it’s true. He hugs his parents before he leaves, being careful to not slam the door on his way out.

He gets to Eddie’s in just a few minutes, despite walking slower. He is nervous, more nervous than he’s been in a while. Eddie is his best friend and, somehow, some way, he really hurt him today. Richie bends over and picks up a small pebble, holding it gently in his palm before throwing it at Eddie’s window. At first, nothing happens. No one comes to the window; no noise comes from the house. Then, just as Richie’s about to grab another pebble, the window slides open. There’s no greeting, just silence and Richie takes that as his cue to climb up.

Once he’s inside the room, he looks around, eyes still adjusting to the slight difference in light. Eddie’s room is just like it was the night before; clean, not a speck of dust or a sock out of place. The only thing missing, Richie notices, is the teddy bear that had been sitting on Eddie’s quilt the night before. In its place sits Eddie, a scowl on his face.

“H-Hey, Eds,” he whispers, wincing when Eddie’s scowl hardens. “Look, man, I just wanted to apologize.” At this, Eddie’s gaze softens just a little bit. “I shouldn’t have told the others about the bear. I guess I just didn’t realize it was such a sore spot for you.” Richie chuckles, hands awkwardly hanging at his sides. “I still don’t understand why you got so mad but I won’t talk about it again, I promise.” He holds out his pinky, an offering of sorts. A pinky promise isn’t as sacred as a blood pact but it was the next best thing. Eddie sighs and grips Richie’s pinky with his own, pulling him close enough that Richie can see the wetness in Eddie’s eyes.

“There’s some things you don’t joke about, Trashmouth,” Eddie says, his voice thick and wet as if he had been crying before Richie arrived. Richie nods, smiling because damn, he had missed Eddie’s voice. He had heard it earlier today, when he was talking to the others, but there was something special in Eddie’s voice whenever he spoke to Richie, something different that wasn’t there for anyone else.

They spend the rest of the night playing games and reading one of Eddie’s new comics, each of them holding one side of the book so they could read it at the same time. Once they’re finished, Eddie sneaks Richie into the bathroom so they can get ready for bed. Eddie hides a toothbrush for Richie in his room so his mother doesn’t find out and this makes Richie feel special. Eddie is willing to risk making his mother mad just to be with Richie, one-on-one and outside of view of everyone else.

They’re in Eddie’s room now with practically no space between them where they lay, shoulder to shoulder, on Eddie’s bed. Their hands are resting at their sides and Richie fights down an urge to reach that one inch over and hold Eddie’s hand. He can tell that Eddie is still a little tense from earlier that day and he thinks about bringing it up again but before he can say anything, Eddie brings it up first.

“My dad gave me that bear,” he whispers, his voice so quiet that Richie almost doesn’t hear him. “It was right before he died so it’s the last gift I have from him. I just, it’s embarrassing but it’s the last piece of him I have so…”

Richie wants to roll over and hug Eddie tight, squeezing him until he can’t breathe. Of course Eddie would be upset about being teased for having the bear; it wasn’t just a bear, it was a memory of his dad. Richie felt more like an asshole than he ever had in his 17 years. “I’m sorry, Eds, it was really shitty of me to make fun of you for it.”

Eddie turns onto his side, facing Richie with a melancholic smile. “It’s okay, ‘Chee. You didn’t know.”

“That doesn’t matter!” Richie sits up now, too worked up to stay laying down. “It was shitty of me, no matter what. I-I don’t, I don’t know why I did it. I knew it would upset you but I was like ‘oh, but it’ll be funny and he’ll end up laughing too.’ Bullshit. I, god, Eds, I’m such a shitty friend.”

Eddie pulls Richie back down to lay beside him, gripping his face between his hands. “You are not a shitty friend, Richie. You made a mistake. People do that, you know.” He says this with a small smile, eyes soft and warm. Richie finds himself leaning forward on instinct, nose brushing against Eddie’s. “Thanks, Eds.”

Minutes pass by as they lay there, nose to nose. Richie’s almost worked up the courage to kiss Eddie when he yawns, mouth stretching wide. Eddie pushes him away, laughing quietly. “God, your breath smells even after brushing your teeth!” They both giggle and then Eddie yawns, making Richie snort with laughter. As they’re trying to keep quiet, hoping that Eddie’s mom is asleep already, Richie thinks about the bear again.

“Hey,” he whispers. “You know, if you want to go get your bear, I, uh, that’s okay with me.” Eddie tenses for a moment before hugging Richie tight. He gets up and goes to his closet, sliding open the door and wincing when it squeaks. A few seconds later, Eddie is climbing back into bed beside Richie, bear securely in his arms.

“Goodnight, Richie,” he hums, eyes already fluttering shut. Richie, his courage from earlier not quite gone, leans forward and kisses Eddie’s forehead.

“Goodnight, Eddie.”

#anon #writing prompt #writing request #reddie #it #it 2019 #it 2017 #Richie tozier #Eddie kaspbrak #fic #my writing #it films #it movies #it film #it movie #it (2017)#it (film)#it (2019)#it (movie)

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a65232-joshywoshy · 4 years

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Colorado Crybaby

Chapter 7

Rachael finished her ice cream, then buckled up like she was told. Penny drove to a small strip mall 15 minutes away. This was the store that Penny had referred to earlier. It had very little signage. The company name on the front door was too small for Rachael to read from the car.

“What store is this?” Rachael was curious. She kept looking around for better signage to find out.

“They have the good stuff. I need to pick up something for an old friend. I want to get you something, too.”

Is Penny blushing? Rachael was curious and was about to ask, but Penny parked the car and went into the store alone. A few minutes later, Penny was walking out of the store with 2 large boxes. The boxes had no label. She loaded them into the back of the car.

She got in the driver's seat again and started to text someone. Quietly, out of habit, she read the last sentences of the text out loud. “I’ll bring them tonight when we come to the club. I’m bringing a friend.”

“What did you get? What’s the good stuff? Who are you texting, Penny?”

“You’re awfully nosy, Rachael.” Penny poked Rachael’s nose. “You’ll find out later tonight. It’s a gift. 1 box for an old friend, 1 box for my best friend.”

“Ooh. I get a gift. I feel special.” Rachael was almost back to normal from today’s events, although she was getting very tired very quickly.

“You are special." Penny smiled. "Okay. What’s next. My place? Yeah. Then I can change. Do you want to change before we go to the club? It’s not fancy or anything. It’s really casual there. And neither one of us are picking up any dates, so…”

“I don’t need to change. I’ll need to borrow your bathroom, though, if you don’t mind. Should I put on makeup?”

“Nah. Too much hassle. They keep it fairly dim in there anyway. No one will see your face that well.”

“Is this?!...” Rachael turned up the radio. It was Alarm by Lookas and Krewella. “I love this song.”

They both started singing along.

Nobody said it’d be easy, but we took a train to the ceiling.

Now I’m on all of my feelings. Don’t wake me up from this dream.

I bought a one way ticket to space, let’s get out of here.

I heard Jupiter’s nice this time of year.

Out in the wild, find my Eden.

Let’s stay a while, then I’m leaving.

“I love her VOICE!” Rachael turned it down a little. “Wait. Do straight girls fall in love with female vocalists?”

Penny laughed. “Yes. She has a good voice. Just because you like a girl’s voice doesn’t mean that you LOVE girls. I mean, in your case it’s true, but not every girl’s case.”

“That makes sense.”

Several more songs came on the radio that they both loved. The car was playing audio from Penny’s custom playlist. Neon Trees and Aron Chupa made them both sing as well. Before they knew it, they were back at Penny’s apartment.

“Can I ask you something?” Penny was the embarrassed one now.

“Ask away, Penny.”

“Inside the box is something you can wear. I really want to make sure they fit before I give them to you, and I kind of want you to wear them to the club tonight. Let’s… resume this conversation indoors.”

They had arrived at Penny’s apartment complex. A man had walked past the car, on his way to the dog park behind their parking space. Penny took one of the boxes upstairs while Rachael followed close behind, still wondering what was inside. They would unload everything else when they got to Rachael's house. Penny looked very embarrassed now. They went inside her apartment and she locked the door behind them. “My question is, will you…” she opened the box. “Wear a diaper for me?”

Inside the box were several different boutique diapers. All of them were mediums, Rachael’s exact size. Rachael stared at them all in wonder as Penny sat the box down on her coffee table in the living room.

“You can totally say no.” Penny was nervous. “I know. This is super forward of me and you probably don’t want to and that’s fine. I hope you don’t hate me for asking this. I know you’re struggling with this side of yourself and…”

Rachael got out a diaper that she liked. She brought it up to touch Penny’s lips.

“Shh. I don’t mind. Thank you. I will wear a diaper for you.”

“Really?!?! YOU WILL?!?! THANK YOU! Thank you thank you thank you!!! I’ve…” Penny blushed bright red now. “I’ve been thinking about this since yesterday. You’re just super cute and I know we’re coworkers but you’re my best friend who I also really like and we're kinda close already…”

“I didn’t finish.” Rachael had a big grin on her face. “I’ll wear a diaper for you if you wear a diaper for me.”

“What? No. You can’t… You..” Penny was stuttering now. Rachael kept eye contact, determined to showcase her stubborn side.

“You want a cute diaper girl? So do I. All or nothing. We do this together or not at all. Me and you, every step of the way. I’m padded, you’re padded. For tonight, anyway.”

“Wow.” Penny was the one melting now, but she regained her composure much faster than Rachael did. “Okay, kiddo. You win. Tonight we both go to the club padded. HOOOTTT!!!” Penny grabbed a random diaper and quickly ran to her bedroom to change. Rachael debated changing on the couch in her living room, but decided against it. There had already been one instance of accidentally starting to get naked in front of Penny this weekend. She didn’t want another. It was too embarrassing. She was about to go to the bathroom to change, but Penny was already done.

Penny came back into the living room. Rachael searched for the pink waistband she expected to see above her shorts, but her shirt was too long. Penny knew it couldn’t be seen, so she lifted her shirt slightly so Rachael could see.

“Okay, kid. That’s my end of the bargain. We have one cutie booty. We need two.”

“Okay. Thank you. You are the BEST and the hottest."

Rachael changed in the bathroom, doing her business before she got into the diaper. She had picked a racoon Peekabu diaper. She loved the Racoon’s little face. Her shorts were a lot more snug now, so she had to work a little to get them over the diaper.

“I did it.” Rachael lifted her shirt a little to show Penny.

“Yay! Two cutie booties.” Penny clapped softly.

“Can we take a nap now? I’m so tired.” Rachael was happy, but exhausted.

“Can I please have you nap without your shorts on so I can stare at your adorable butt?”

“You perv.” Rachael teased, but obliged her. “Enjoy my butt, but I’m seriously stealing your bed and taking a nap. Take a nap with me.”

“I AM a little tired. Can we cuddle, too? Please?” Penny was talking quietly now.

“I thought you were a Big. You’re acting like a needy little Little now. Oh, wait! It’s the diaper! It’s totally making you feel little, isn’t it?”

“Umm. I mean… I guess.”

Rachael started to baby talk to her as she gestured Penny into bed with her. “Aww. My adorable little Penny is so tired after being a big strong girl. Well, now it’s sleepy time. We need to get some sleep so we can go play some more later. Is that okay?”

Penny nodded. Words were difficult for her now. Rachael had found a way to melt Penny now and they both loved it. Rachael helped Penny find a good spot to lay down in front of her. “Go ahead and suck on your thumb, too. That’ll help you feel calm and comfy.”

Rachael patted Penny’s padded butt as she sucked her thumb. Penny was red in the face and Rachael watched as she drifted off to sleep. Rachael covered them both up. She was having the best afternoon she could have imagined. She was laying in bed with someone that was wearing a diaper. Rachael herself was wearing a diaper. She was getting a chance to see what it was like to baby someone in real life. Last week, this may have been a repulsive act to her, but now this was pure enjoyment. Though there was some sexual tension, it was mostly platonic. The two of them had adulted for so long recently that an overwhelming desire to just be nurtured had taken over. The hastily bought diapers only accelerated their drive to little out. With her own personal teddy bear laying in front of her, she snuggled Penny close and fell asleep.

Being an adult was hard. Taking a nap in a diaper was amazingly easy.

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shellbilee · 4 years

Text

Classic - A Henry Cavill FanFiction

It’s finally here! It will be a bit of a slow burn relationship between Belle & Henry but be patient! Special mention to @tumblnewby for her encouraging words and being an absolute sweetheart!

Read, like, comment, reblog!

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist.

B x

Chapter 7

Belle's POV:

"Hello my fur babies!" I sang as I stepped through my townhouse door, shutting the door behind me and trying my best to barricade myself against a hyper excited Kal and Kyah, "How has your day been?". I grinned when Kal let out a "woo" sound and bowed down in front of me, his bum wiggling in the air as his tail wagged at a million miles a minute. Kyah barked happily and leaned up against my legs, all of a sudden launching at Kal and tackling him down playfully. "God you two, settle down" I exclaimed with a laugh as I walked down the hallway, shuffling my bags of grocery shopping and dropping them on the kitchen bench. The bears followed like shadows, bringing their wrestling match into the kitchen and quickly crashing into my legs. I frowned and shook my head, looking down at them disapprovingly. "Out of the kitchen" I commanded pointing to the lounge, Kyah and Kal pausing momentarily to look up at me expectantly, "Go on". I rolled my eyes when they ignored me completely and continued with their play fight, shaking my head and turning back to put away the groceries. I started on dinner when I was done with the groceries, pulling a bag of fettuccine from the pantry and laughing when both dogs immediately stopped moving to look up at me. Typical. As soon as they heard the crinkle of the plastic packaging they were all ears for me, sitting down at attention with their eyes focused on the bag in my hand. Of course. "No you silly boofs, this isn't for you" I exclaimed as I shooed them away with my free hand, Kal letting out another 'woo' sound and making me laugh. Initial meeting aside, Kal was one of the most well behaved Akita's I'd ever met, completely different to the wary, defensive Akita's that I'd seen and treated through work. Traditionally, Akita's were very wary with strangers, especially vets, and often aggressive with other dogs. Kal on the other hand listened to commands (mostly) and was nothing but a giant, playful teddy bear when he was around Kyah - clearly a testament to the incredible training he'd gotten from his owner.

"Your dad's coming home tonight Mr" I said as I bent down in front of Kal and ruffled his thick, furry chest, "Are you excited to see him? I am!". I laughed when Kal pushed his head into me and tried to lick my face, Kyah quickly coming over and pushing her way in for attention. Since our video chat on Monday night, Henry had called every night since to check in and see how Kal was going, despite the pictures and videos I'd been sending him throughout the day. After I'd assure him that Kal had been perfect, he'd tell me all about his days filming and I in return would tell him all about work and what I'd done for that day. Every call we'd had had lasted for at least an hour, the two of us quickly losing track of time whenever we'd spoken. The more I spoke to Henry the more I found myself becoming completely enamored with him. He was incredible - polite and intelligent, and so perfectly charming, his sense of humour not at all what I expected. It didn't help that he looked like a chiseled Greek God either, his blue eyes beautiful and intense and his smile effortlessly handsome. Not even two weeks I'd known him and already I was smiling ridiculously at the thought of him, my stomach flip flopping at the mention of his name. Even though the rational, logical part of me told me I was being absolutely ridiculous - he was a celebrity and I was just, me, the hopeless romantic part of me was more than willing to go along with whatever this was between Henry and I.

I smiled and shook my head, patting both Kyah and Kal before standing up and making my way back into the kitchen. Henry had told me during our Wednesday night video chat that he'd be coming home on Friday night - filming would be wrapped by the afternoon and he'd be catching the next flight back to London. He'd planned to come by on his way home to pick up Kal, telling me that he'd be over some time in the early evening depending on his flight. The rest of the week seemed to fly by after that, the thought of being able to see Henry again filling my stomach with butterflies and making my heart race in my chest. I hadn't heard from him at all today - assuming he was busy with last minute filming and such, and had found myself thinking about him much more than I should have throughout my day at work. I smiled to myself and set about preparing dinner, my mind once again wandering to Henry and what he was doing and what he was thinking about, and more importantly, if he was thinking about me.

---

An hour later I flopped down on the couch having finished the washing up from dinner, glancing down at my watch as I took a sip of tea. 7pm. I frowned and reached for my phone, unlocking the screen and checking my messages for what felt like the tenth time in an hour. Still nothing. I let out a frustrated sigh. Apparently mine and Henry's definitions of early evening were very different. I looked up when I heard Kal let out a heavy sigh, my face softening at the sight of the big furry bear as he lay curled by my side on the couch. "You miss him don't you, big guy?" I whispered gently, reaching out to stroke his soft black face and smiling when he opened his liquid brown eyes to look up at me lovingly, "I do too". Kyah shifted beside me and bumped her head against my arm, letting out a jealous whine as she gingerly licked my hand. "I haven't forgotten about you miss" I reassured, smiling down at her and bending to drop a kiss to the top of her head.

I glanced back at the TV where an episode of Suits was currently playing, absentmindedly patting the bears on either side of me as my mind once again went to Henry. Was he still filming? Was he still in Hungary? Was everything okay? The logical part of me reasoned that yes, of course everything was okay - and if it wasn't he would have called. He was a famous celebrity with a ridiculously busy schedule. Responding to messages was probably very low on his priority list. Still, the other part of me though, the irrational, dramatic part, couldn't help but think otherwise. Henry had messaged me every day since he'd left London - why would today have been any different? I'd still sent him photos of Kal like I had every other day, for him to reply at all was strange to say the least. Surely that meant something was wrong? I let out a heavy breath and shook my head to clear my thoughts, reaching for my tea and taking a long, noisy sip. I'd known Henry barely two weeks and was already thinking about him like he was my boyfriend, sending myself into a spin because he hadn't replied to my text. We weren't dating, not even close - why was I even thinking like this?

I reached up and ran my fingers through my hair, deciding to at least message Henry to check in and see that every thing was alright. I knew he'd respond when he got the chance, he was clearly just busy and had a million other things to attend to. I let out a soft sigh and reached for my phone, clicking on his name and typing a quick text.

Hey Henry, hoping you're well and everything is okay! Kal is ready to go whenever you're ready. Let me know when you're nearby x

I tapped send and tossed my phone aside, stretching out my legs on the coffee table and reaching for my mug of tea. I knew I'd hear from him soon, I didn't have to worry. He'd contact me as soon as he could. I took a sip of tea and looked back at the TV, ignoring my thoughts of Henry and trying to instead concentrate on Suits. I chuckled to myself - if there was ever someone that was going to distract me from Henry Cavill, it would be the man himself, Harvey Spectre. I reached out to stroke Kyah's silky fur and dropped my head back against the pillows, letting out a soft breath and relaxing into the plush sofa.

---

I awoke with a start as Kal & Kyah suddenly started barking, jolting upright as the dogs jumped off the couch and bolted off towards the front door. What the hell? My eyes widened in alarm and my heart raced in my chest, it taking me a moment to orientate myself as I looked around the living room. What was going on? Suits was no longer playing and Netflix was instead asking if I was still there, my almost empty cup of tea sitting on the edge of the coffee table now stone cold. I'd clearly fallen asleep on the couch while watching Suits, dozing off on the couch with the bears on either side of me. I jumped for the second time in less than a minute when I heard a knock at the front door, Kal and Kyah once again going crazy and barking loudly in the hallway. Henry?

I stood up from the couch and made my way towards the door, glancing down at my watch and frowning when I realised how late it was. 1am. So much for early evening. I rubbed my eyes and paused in the hallway mirror, stopping briefly to fix my hair in an attempt to look like I hadn't just been sleeping for four hours. I felt the butterflies in my stomach as it suddenly occurred to me that I was only moments away from seeing Henry again, my heart racing in my chest at the thought of talking to him without a thousand miles and a screen separating us. I took a deep breath as I reached the front door, shushing Kal and Kyah as they barked and jumped in front of me. "Relax you two!" I whisper-yelled, afraid that I'd wake my neighbours - if the dog's barking hadn't already. I groaned, that's just what I needed, my neighbours complaining to me about noise. I inhaled deeply and reached for the door handle, unhooking the lock latch and pulling open the front door. Henry.

---

Henry's POV:

I barely had time to look at Belle before Kal let out a happy bark and jumped through the doorway, his big, furry body crashing into my legs and making me step back to catch my balance. "Hey bear" I said as I bent to ruffle his huge bear head, chuckling when he tried desperately to lick my face, "I missed you too". I heard Belle laugh adorably in the hallway, glancing up at her and feeling my insides melt at the sight. Belle. "I'd say good evening though I think good morning might be more appropriate. Hello Henry". I grinned and brushed the fur from my clothes, standing up and regarding her properly for the first time since I'd arrived. She was just as gorgeous as I remembered, if not more so, her lips parted in a soft smile as she leaned against the door and looked back at me with her wide, beautiful eyes.

The apologies that had been piling up on my tongue all day suddenly slipped from my mouth like a broken dam, endless words falling from my lips until Belle put up her hand to silence me. "Henry, Henry" Belle interrupted, shaking her head and smiling at me, "Come in first. It's freezing out here and I don't know about you but I'd much rather sit inside and talk about this than out here on the street". She stepped back and gestured for me to come in, my shoulders deflating with relief as I looked back at her gratefully. I stepped inside and kicked off my shoes, stopping briefly to pat Kyah as she leaned up against my leg panting happily.

"Tea?" Belle asked, looking back over her shoulder at me as she walked into the kitchen, my mind once again momentarily distracted by her gorgeous curves. "Something stronger if you don't mind" I replied with a smile, tearing my eyes away from her behind and reaching up to run my fingers through my hair, "It's been a hell of a day". Belle laughed and leaned forward against the kitchen bench, "So, tequila then?". I chuckled and shook my head, "Perhaps not that strong". Belle grinned, "Coffee it is". I watched for a moment as she moved about the kitchen, a group of photograph frames on the hallway wall suddenly catching my eye. I stepped forward to get a closer look, unable to help my smile as I looked over the captured memories of Belle's life.

There was a photo of her grinning gorgeously in a cap and gown, holding her veterinary degree proudly as she stood beside an older man that I could only assume was her father. There was another of her holding a very young looking Kyah, smiling happily as she held the small white and grey pup tightly in her arms. Another of Belle standing with a younger blonde girl, their olive skin golden brown with summer tan as they stood smiling at the camera with their arms around each other's shoulders, a warm orange sunset in the background behind them. I did a double take at the photo beside it, Belle standing with two other girls, the three laughing at each other as they stood in bikinis in front of a turquoise blue beach. I lingered on the photo for longer than necessary, my eyes running over Belle's incredible figure in her tiny mango yellow bikini and suddenly imagining her in nothing but lingerie. God yes. I shook my head and mentally scolded myself for letting my thoughts run wild, skimming over the last of the photos before turning and joining Belle in the kitchen.

"Sugar?". I shook my head no and moved to sit on the couch, regarding Belle intently as she handed me the freshly brewed cup and sat beside me on the sofa. "Thank you love". Belle smiled and turned her body to face me, leaning her elbow on the back of the cushions and resting her head against her hand. "So, long day?". I shook my head apologetically, "Belle, I am so terribly sorry. I just---everything that could go wrong, did go wrong". Belle's face softened, her green eyes watching my face intently as she waited for me to explain. I told her how filming had taken longer than expected today, and when we did finally finish and had gotten to the airport, the plane had been delayed two hours. We eventually boarded and finally made it to London, only to find that there had been scheduling issues with landing and we'd had to circle for another two hours before we could touch down on the runway. On top of all that I'd accidentally packed my phone in my luggage and had no way of being able to text Belle to let her know I was running very late. I told Belle how I'd even considered using my assistant's phone to contact her, only to quickly realise that I had no idea what her number was since it was stored in my mobile phone. When I'd finally gotten out of Heathrow airport I'd gotten my phone from my luggage to message her, only to - of course, find that the battery was dead.

"The whole thing really was a nightmare" I explained, shaking my head and taking a sip of my coffee, "And all I could think about was you waiting at home with Kal thinking where the hell is he?". Belle laughed, "It was not at all like that. In fact, I was more so worried that something had gone wrong". "Aw you were worried about me were you?" I asked, raising one eyebrow mischievously. Belle only grinned sheepishly, "Something like that". We continued to talk for a little longer, Belle going on to tell me about her day today before showing me all the pictures and videos she'd taken of Kal during his stay with her. "He was a pleasure to look after, really. He was a perfect gentleman. You've trained him incredibly well Henry". "Thank you Belle. And thank you for taking him. I can't even tell you how appreciate I am, especially knowing that he was in safe hands and not stuck at some day care". "You're more than welcome Henry. As I said he was a pleasure and I'd happily look after him anytime". Belle grinned her gorgeous smile at me and I was momentarily taken aback, my insides once again stirring as I looked back into her beautiful eyes.

I reached up and ran my fingers through my hair, my face softening as Belle let out an adorable yawn. It was almost two in the morning - of course she was tired. She'd probably been waiting up for me this whole time. Damn it Henry! "I'm terribly sorry Belle, it's late I really should get going. I've kept you awake long enough, I should let you be". Belle smiled, "Well I'll agree with the awake part but definitely not the letting me be part". I grinned, "Oh really?". Belle nodded, "Absolutely". "Well, on that note then, before I leave and let you get to bed" I offered as I took another sip of my coffee, "Any chance you're not busy tomorrow? Because I'd really like to reschedule that date that we mentioned". Belle grinned, "Well that definitely makes two of us. I am free tomorrow though, what did you have in mind?". I smiled and shook my head, draining the last of my coffee and tapping my fingers against my mug. "Let's keep it as a surprise for now. I'll pick you up at say 11?". Belle pouted adorably, her wide eyes almost making me reconsider my words, "That's not playing fair Henry".

I chuckled and stood up from the couch, grinning back at her and offering her my hand. "Maybe so, but I promise you'll enjoy yourself love". She only smiled and shook her head, putting her hand in mine and letting me pull her up beside me. My fingers lingered against hers and I looked down at her for a long moment, her eyes looking back at me and holding my gaze, green eyes to blue. My eyes flickered down to her soft lips and back again, my mind suddenly fighting the overwhelming urge to lean down and kiss her. It was something I'd thought about after dropping Kal off on Sunday, and again after each time we spoken over video chat each night. I was incredibly attracted to Belle - with her long caramel waves, perfect curves and gorgeous, light-up-her-face grin, not to mention her soft green eyes that only seemed to grow brighter every time I looked at her. It wasn't just the way she looked either; she was wickedly smart, kind and incredibly passionate - something that I found to be immensely endearing in a woman. She was amazing and I couldn't wait to take her out tomorrow, if only so that we could finally get to know each other properly, and maybe, just maybe, I'd be able to finally kiss her. I already knew exactly where I wanted to take Belle tomorrow - I’d been thinking about it for most of the week and had the entire day planned out in my head.

I inhaled softly and bent to press my lips to her cheek, pulling away and smiling down at her gorgeous face. "So I'll see you tomorrow?". Belle nodded, "That you will. Are you going to be okay to get home? It is pretty late". I nodded, my face softening at her evident concern. "I'll be fine love". I released her hand and turned to look at Kal, whistling for him to stand and gesturing towards the door. "C'mon bear, time to go". Kal jumped up and ran towards me, Kyah letting out a playful bark and following close behind as we all made our way to the door. "Kyah babe, not you. You're staying here" Belle said softly, bending to pat Kal and ruffling his furry head. "See you big boy! You be good for your dad okay?". I smiled and clipped on Kal's lead, opening the front door and turning to look back at Belle one last time. "Thank you again for having him Belle, honestly it was an enormous help". Belle grinned, "Any time Henry, he - and his owner for that matter, are welcome here anytime". I chuckled and leaned forward to kiss her cheek one last time, once again fighting the urge to grab her face in my hands and press my lips to hers. "I'll see you tomorrow love. Goodnight Belle". Belle smiled, "I can't wait. Goodnight Henry, sweet dreams".

---

Chapter 8

TAGLIST:

@michelehansel @tumblnewby @crazy4thewinbros @hamianderson

#Henry Cavill #henry cavill fanfic #Henry Cavill fanfiction #Henry Cavill smut #Henry Cavill fluff #Henry Cavill x OFC #Henry Cavill edit

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fairymadnessyeah · 4 years

Text

Get a hint, Red Riot!

The Sunshine couple. Here to get me out of my writer block.

Kirimina week day 7

Free day

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

A loud sight came out of UA student Kirishima Eijirou. He, along with his third year clasmates and best friends Bakugou, Kaminari and Sero were in the middle of a Smash Bros competition on Kaminari’s room. The red head was having a good time, but he had just received a message from Mina telling him she wasn’t going to make it. She was stuck with paperwork in her hero office.

“Did something happen, Kiri?” Sero asked him over the sounds of the game and Bakugou cursing.

“Mina said she can’t make it, she stuck on paper duty” He said, his voice deflatled as he got disappointed over the lack of his pink friend.

“OI! Don’t bring the mood down Shitty Hair!” Bakugou shouted at him with his usual gusto. “ You’ll see your pink freak girldfried later!”

Kirishima turned as red as his hair in record time and started rambling and denying. “Mina, she isn’t... we aren’t... I don’t... SHE DOESN’T SEE ME LIKE THAT. She friend-zoned me years ago” He heard the game and the sound of the controlers stop and turned to see his friends giving him stares that varied from dumbfounded to confused. And a frown from Bakugou, though that wasn’t new.

“...what...?”

“Dude, are you seriusly telling me you haven’t noticed how into you she is?” Kaminari asked him rethorically “And how non-subtle she is about it?”

“Okay, that’s crazy” He told the others. “Mina doesn’t feel that way about me”

“You are so dense, man” Sero chuckled at him. “She is been dropping hints for a year and a half”

“WHAT!? NO, She hasn’t... Name one time” Kirishima argued.

His friends all answered at the same time. “Yesterday...”

]]]]]]]

“Alright class, we are doing a team exercise today, Pick a partner.”

Mina grabbed Kirishima by the hand and pressed it against her chest, making a pink hue appear in his cheeks. “What you say Ei? Pinky and Red for the win?” She asked with a smirk of confidence.

“Let’s crash this!” He responded with his determined smile.

]]]]]]

“She just wanted a partner for an exercise, that doesn’t mean....”

“...,the day before that...”

]]]]]]

“Eijiro!” Mina shouted as soon as she saw him near the 3A alliance dorms. Once she was close enough, she jumped into his arm. Kirishima caught her, but dropped his hero suitcase with a CLANK. “I was SO worried! The stupid news channel only had videos of you enterring the bunker but non of you coming out.”

She grabbed his face in between her hands and squeezed his cheeks, making him stare into her golden eyes and black escelera. “Next time, when you are okay you send a text. Understood?”

Kirishima nodded and Mina sighted a ‘good’ before letting go of his face and putting her head over his shoulder as she hugged her worries away.

]]]]]

“So she was worried, big deal. Any friend woul....”

“,the day before before that...”

]]]]]

“Don’t worry citizen!” Red Riot said as he carried Pinky out of the danger zone of the exercise. “You’ll be out of harms way in no time!”

“Take your time~” Mina said in a dazed and low voice as she drew circles in his right pectoral with her finger. Kirishima, that had had his hero suit shredded thanks to the villain team of the exercise, ignored it.

]]]]]

“Okay, I don’t know what that was about but...”

“,the day before before before that,...”

]]]]]

The bell had just rung, stating the begginig of lunch time, and as Kirishima was making his way to the caffeteria, he heard someone calling him.

“Kirishima-senpai! Kirishima-senpai!” Three general studies underclassmen were making their way to him. Once they reached him, they started to bounce in excitment as they complimented him and told how they were his first fan club. Kirishima scrached the back of his head in embarrasment, it was still new to him the whole fan girls situation.

“Could we take a picture with you?” One of them asked as the three girls looked expectantly at him, their eyes somehow growing stars and sparkles in the as they starred up at him.

“Sure” He accepted with a shrug. The three let out a high pitch squeal at that and while one took out their camera phone, the other went to his sides to pose for the picture. Putting their arms around his waist, on his arms and back.

After taking a picture with him alone with each one of the three girls, he took the phone to get a selfie with the four together. Once the camera snapped, he heard someone clear their throats.

“Hey” Mina said with a smile way too big to be real. “What’s going on here?” She forced out a chucke while she kept that fake smile.

“Hey, Mina! This is the Red Riot UA Fan Club.” Kirishima introduced them. “They just wanted a picture”

“Awwww, that’s adorable” Mina said with a baby voice with a bit of a teasing tone, before turning to him and speaking in a sweet and smooth voice. “Anyways, Ei, you can’t afford to waste so much time during lunch. You need all the energy you can get for... later” As she spoke, she slowly wrapped her arms around one of his and placed it so that it was in between her breast. “So, should we go to lunch?~”

“Sure”

“You girls should go to.” Mina said to the girls. “Show all your friends the pictures you have with Red Riot” The three girls shared a look before saying goodbye to the two upper classmen.

]]]]]

“...And the day before before before before that.”

]]]]]

“Hey guys!” Midoriya said to the Bakusquad, as they all came back from the mall. Kaminari, Sero and Bakugou in front as Denki charged the other two phones. Kirishima was behind them and giving Mina a piggy-back ride.

She had asked him in the middle of the mall when they were returning and he had accepted to do it for her. Pressing her thighs against his waist, her chest against his back and her hands holding on to his shoulders as he holded her by the back of the thigh, dangerously close to he butt thanks to the shorts she had on.

“Hey Ei, would you take me to my room? I’m kinda tired...” She whispered in his ear in a breathless voice.

“Sure, no problem, Mina” He told her and took her to her room on his back. Once they reached her door. He opened it and dropped her on the bed, She bounced and then laughted as she kicked of her sandals.

“Wanna hang out for a while?” She asked as she looked up to him with her golden eyes and patted the spot on the bed next to her for him to take.

“Sorry Mina, but I got a lot of homework piled up that needs to be done. Maybe later” And without another word, the red head left the room with a content smile on his face for helping his friend.

]]]]]

“...I’m an idiot” Kirishima said to himself, after hearing to his friends.

“Yup”

“Pretty much”

“No Fuck”

Putting his head between his knee, Kirishima grunted at his own stupidity and blindness. He liked Mina. He really liked her. He liked her so much that she was the only thing he thought about for a while. But he had deemed it imposible for his crush since middle school to return his feelings that he forced himself to put a stop to it.

It didn’t work since they went to the same class and dormitory and at night he had wild and amazing dreams of the two of them. From the first time he saw her in middle school, to him confessing and sharing a glorious and romantic first kiss, to that one time they matched on halloween with alien costumes, to cuddling as they played videogame, to doing... other... activities that couples do. He even had a very weird one where they were soulmates.

He had though he didn’t stood a chance with Mina. He was boring and plane and uninteresting. And Mina was incredible. She was so unique and beautiful as the sun shinning in the middle of the night. She was a miracle.

But she was also his friend, and one he cared for deeply. He didn’t want to make things awkard in their group and between them when she let him down. So he pushed his feelings down and didn’t say anything.

He completly expected for one day to wake up and find that she was seeing someone, or that a guy was going to pick her up for a date. Not this. DEFINETLY not this.

To think that all this time he could of have told her and his feeling would have been reciprocated. That they could kiss and cuddle. That he didn’t have to give her up for other guy.

Wait... Mina STILL wasn’t his girlfriend. At this exact moment some random guy could make a move and steal his chance. He heard what the other boys around campus said about her and how they looked at her every time she pass (and he was a hyppocrite because he had done the same thing many times). He had to make this right. But how?

Suddenly, his face light up like the sky during New Years and with a big: “I GOT IT!”. He stood up from his place and left Kaminari’s room. The other three guys were left there, watching the door where Eijiro had leave.

...

“Does that means he forfeits?”

]]]]]

The next day, since it was Saturday and all students didn’t have class, the morning was piecefull and quiet. All of class 3A woke slowly and calmly. When Mina opened her doorm door, she noticed a giant Teddy bear next to it with a note sticked on it’s chest. She took it, and started reading it.

‘Mina: Sorry I never reciprocated your feelings, I thought it was only platonic and that I would get rejected for sure if I told you how much I like you. I hope the Teddy bear makes up for that.

Eijiro

P.S: Meet me downstairs, there is something I wanna ask you.

It took 2 minutes and 12 seconds for Mina’s still-asleep brain to catch up to what was happening. And once the note was processed, she ran down three flights of stairs to the common area, where Kirishima was.

The red head was going to confess and give everything to Mina yesterday, but she came in so late, he fell asleep and missed her. When his alarm woke him up that morning, he didn’t want to disturb her so he wrote the note and went to the kitchen for breakfast.

He had just came out from the kitchen from putting the dishes away, when a pink torpedo attacked him and made him fall backward. When he opened his eyes, black escelera, gold eyes, pink skin and horns were waiting expectantly for him to say something. He swallowe down his nerves, and with a smile asked:

“Mina, would you be my girlfriend?”

He never got a verbal responce, instead an unexpected kiss that left him breathless gave him his answer.

#kirimina #kirimina week 2020 #kirishima eijirou #ashido mina #bakusquad #Day 7 #free day #kirishima is a good boy #mina is frustrated #sunshine couple #bnha fanfiction #bnha

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elizabeth-234 · 4 years

Text

A Night She won’t Soon Forget

Previous Chapter Three: A Day When Someone New Comes to Midtown

Hi all! Hope you are staying safe and doing well.

Warning: swearing, corporeal punishment

Chapter Four: A Day Gone Wrong

Flash grinned a wide and toothy smile, and Penny resisted moving away as the insect tried to crawl up the sides of the glass.

“Do you think it will work?” Penny said in a low tone, scanning the room for intruders. There were two other kids in the corner mummering to themselves but otherwise they were alone in the dormer.

“Of course, it will and it’s what the bitch deserves, isn’t it?” 

Penny shifted and looked back down at the jar. The spiders crawled Flash caught crawled up the and inside the glass. She glanced at Flash under her eyelashes. The boy was one of the newer kids here. With the holidays coming up they were getting more children.

Flash was only just taller than her but what he lacked in height, he made up with in mischievousness. In the short time he’d been at Midtown, Betty had woken up to garbage and their dirty laundry, mop rags and all, in her bed twice. His voice, loud and piercing, drew Mrs. Delores’s disapproving attention and Flash’s chore list continued to grow by the day. Attention was never a good thing at Midtown.

She shied away from him until he approached her after her last punishment. Anger bubbled under her skin and demanded retribution Flash offered gleefully. Without a thought she accepted his request imaging they would switch her paperwork around or tying her boot laces together.

Now that her emotions had cooled and the pain was more of a phantom ghost, Penny was beginning to regret her hasty decision. The bundle of nerves tingled in her stomach. They warned her with every look at Flash this wasn’t a good idea. Revenge, no matter how small, would never sooth the hurt she was feeling.

Flash lifted the glass; his hand uncovered the top and dropped another spider into the jar. One black mass moved along the glass but as Penny inspected it closer she could see dozens of individual spiders looking for escape.

“Okay, you know the plan, right?”

Their little legs tried to crawl to the opening of the jaw only to slide down in the last inch, away from freedom. Their own window of the dormer was in her periphery and Penny had an odd moment of union with the spiders. She empathized with them. Too many times had she pressed her hands against the window, staring out into the world and wishing for escape. The urge to slam the glass into the ground setting the glass cage open surged in her chest and her hand twitched.

“Penny,” He said and nudged her shoulder to get her attention. “You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”

His mouth was pulled tight and she swallowed under the weight of his eyes.

“N-no, Flash, of course not.” Penny said not wanting any dirty laundry in her bed the next morning.

“Good, you’re going to make sure she’s in her office and if she is you know the plan.”

“Why can’t I…”

“We already agreed. I’ll set up here. You go.”

Her feet dragged along the floor as she grumbled to herself. They didn’t really agree and she didn’t want to do this anymore. Trouble was beginning to seem like her middle name and Penny didn’t like it one bit. But as she walked down the stairs Penny was big enough to admit there was a part of her, a tiny part she wanted to squish down that was excited at the chance to prank Mrs. Delores. Its child-like face grinned at the thought of seeing Mrs. Delores squirming with discomfort.

Flash was right. She did deserve it.

Penny got onto her hands and knees. She peered under the office door. A pair of lace-up boots tapped under the desk as Mrs. Delores hummed off-key. Penny suppressed a giggle as she backed away from the door and settled against the wall with knees pressed against her chest.

Next stage of the plan was to count to thirty while she waited. At fifteen Penny stood and brushed off her pants. At ten she placed her hand on the doorknob and breathed in. And as she counted to zero, Penny opened the door making sure it bounced off the wall with a clang and ran into the office. She dropped her jaw and made she her eyes were wide.

“Mrs. Delores, Mrs. Delores. You’ve got to help. It’s Betty! She was trying to dust the moldings and fell off the ladder. Her arm doesn’t look right at all. She’s screaming and crying everywhere up there in the dormer.”

For all Penny disliked Mrs. Delores, the women’s face drained of color at her words. Not even questioning that it was Penny relaying the information or that she gave Betty different chores to do, she stood up, pushing Penny out of the way and into the desk before running out of the office.

Of course, Betty was in the kitchen today but she was one of Mrs. Delores’s favorites.

The office drooped without its master inside. Papers and bottles were scattered along the surfaces, and in the corner shrouded in the shadows hide a pile of confiscated toys Penny was itching to dig through. Maybe Mr. Teddy was in there.

Instead she walked around the desk and noticed the envelope the new woman brought the other day. It was sitting with crisp white edges amongst all the other paperwork. Her hand reached out and grabbed it up before she realized what she was doing.

Inside the envelope were a bunch of official documents with fancy fonts. All of them were stamped with a circular crest. She brushed her thumb against the raised marking. A helmet like the knights in Betty’s picture book was in the middle surrounded by a flowing script. Its mien was all straight lines, giving the appearance of a determined face. The writing wrapped around the head with intricate knots entwined with the words.

Penny wished she could read it.

As she scanned the document there were a couple of words that looked familiar. She spotted ‘orphanage’ often enough in the papers to recognize it from the sign hanging outside. The wire chains connecting the sign to the post were rusty and cracked, leaving the whole welcome on a vertical angle, pointing not to the front door but to the ground underneath. It wasn’t often Penny passed the sign because they were only allowed to leave out the backdoor but it was the first thing she saw about the building before she took in the crumbling bricks and sun washed door.

There was also a word starting with an ‘S’. Ned tried to teach her some of the alphabet; Her name was easy now, but she couldn’t quite make out this word together. Penny began to go through each letter, like Ned taught her. There was an ‘E’ next and after that a ‘B’ or was that an ‘R’? She smiled at the knowing it was a ‘K’ at the end. Her first time seeing a ‘K’ she mixed it up with the ‘N’ in Ned’s name. The whole week after that she began calling him Ked much to his dismay.

“Sterk? What a weird word.”

She wiped her hand on her pants before bringing it up to smooth over the word. It was the same word etched inside the crest on the top of the page and Penny assumed it was a name by the regal font used.

Penny was reaching for the next stack of papers when a scream erupted upstairs. Her thoughts scattered along with the papers in her hands. They floated away from her and settled on the floor as she heard hasty footsteps. Mrs. Delores came marching down the stairs and her breath caught. She’d failed to complete step three: get out of the office and make herself scarce.

Her feet were frozen on spot and Penny was helpless to do anything besides watch as Mrs. Delores came back into her room. Most of the spiders were gone by the time she shut the door but the woman kept brushing her clothes and raking her shaking hands through her hair. Mrs. Delores’s breathing was harsh and when she exhaled, thinking she was alone in the room, the corner of her mouth twitched.

Penny waited for the ground to open and swallow her whole.

She turned from the door and her eyes fell onto Penny.

“You…” The woman said, stalking forward. Her face reddened at the sight of Penny standing there with her papers disturbed. “I should have known.”

The office shrunk down until it was the two of them. She grabbed Penny by the upper arm and pulled her close. Penny whimpered at the burning in her muscles and a grunt escaped her when a hand came down against her behind.

“You ungrateful, little bitch.” Mrs. Delores punctuated this by another slap.

Penny couldn’t hold off the tears running down her face but she pressed her lips together so no sound would emerge from her. Mrs. Delores twisted her around so they were face to face and poked her finger into Penny’s chest.

Mrs. Delores griped her arm again causing another burn to echo down to her fingers and dragged Penny across the floor and to the door.

“Stop, Mrs. Delores, please.” She cried to deaf ears.

Penny was dragged into the hallway and she saw of Flash and some of the other children huddled on the stairs peering down. Flash had the decency to look alarmed but it didn’t stop the Penny from feeling the burn across her back and cheeks.

Mrs. Delores spotted them and whipped Penny in front of her, grabbing her hair so her head was tilted back and neck was exposed. Penny could see the bottom of her chin. The layers underneath squished together like a molten bagpipe as she spoke.

“Let this be a lesson to you little Bastards. There will be punishments and there will be repercussions when I find out who else was behind this. Penny here will have the luxury of telling me who else was involved.”

She twisted them around, dropping Penny’s head which hung against her chest, and headed them for the basement stairs. Penny’s heart dropped at the sight of the old door.

“No, please. I…” 

“Quiet, unless you want to tell me whose idea that was.”

Her mouth went dry. She couldn’t give Flash up because he would be in trouble. Why pile more misery around? His lunches for the week were already taken away for the other prank he pulled on Betty and Penny shivered to think what Mrs. Delores would do next if she knew about his involvement in this disaster. Her protests died leaving her shoulders limp as they continued on, but the decision didn’t stop a whimper from escaping.

A harsh cuff to the back of her head sent her thoughts spinning and behind the buzzing erupting in the back of her skull she thought she could hear Mrs. Delores sharp voice reprimanding her.

They went into the basement and the door to the room with the sink was opened. Mrs. Delores threw her onto the floor in the room. Dirt flew into the air around her. The dust cloud enveloped her and Penny’s chest heaved as she coughed in the contaminated air.

Mrs. Delores forced Penny into the chair. She wound the rope around Penny’s wrists uncaring of the friction and pinching she was causing. Her voice was heavy against Penny’s ear as she worked.

“I hope you’re happy.”

Mrs. Delores stepped back and Penny was an insect under her eyes, insignificant and worthless.

“You’re going to think about why you’re here and when I let you out, if I do, you’re going to apologize till I’m happy. No don’t say anything now. I don’t want to hear it.”

Penny closed her eyes as the door shut, sending another dust cloud into the room.

Under the cover of darkness Penny’s tears fell freely. They made their trek down her cheeks and chin dropping to her lap where they sunk into her clothes; invisible but apparent in the dampness stuck against her skin to Penny.

Penny cried loud and with shameless abandon. The walls were thick enough no one could hear. When the reserve of her emotion was all but dried up Penny thought about the lady with the blonde curls and her perfect smile. A new wave of tears fell.

Light and sound filtered back into her world.

The door opened and through red crusted eyes Penny watched as Flash peeked his head through the slot in the door. He swallowed but squared his shoulders and walked toward her.

The sounds of the rope untying permeated the room and Penny jumped back into the chair when Flash put a hand on her shoulder. His youthful face was marred with lines allowing Penny a glimpse at the serious adult he could become if left in this place.

“Are you alright?”

Penny smiled weakly and nodded, though the action brought stars to her eyes.

Flash hurried to the sink and filled up a small glass sitting there with water. Once by her side again he lifted it to Penny’s lips and let her take shallow sips until the itching in her throat abated. He smiled as she drained the glass but she didn’t return the sentiment.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and led them to the door. She shivered at the touch but rested against him with increasing reliance as they continued. Her body froze when they got to the doorway out to the main part of the basement at a thought.

“I can leave?” She asked in a low voice so no one could hear. Flash chuckled without humor but Penny wasn’t going to risk anything for a jailbreak. This had to be above board or she wouldn’t take another step.

“Yes, she didn’t want to look at you so she sent me down here. Don’t worry.” Her lips pressed together and Penny wanted to bite she had a reason to worry, that it was his fault she was worried, but she remained silent.

Flash helped her up the stairs. Once on the landing he steered them away from the office and they began to climb the stairs to get to the dormer. Her breath came in short bursts by the time they were halfway and he stopped them on one of the landings without her request. Penny braced herself against the wall and Flash trying to gulp down the air. They continued on once she wasn’t seeing grey spots. The two made it to the dormer and to her bed. Thankfully the room was empty of anyone else and Penny could struggle to get under the sheet in peace.

She lay down and curled away from him. He hovered where he had helped her into bed, shuffling his feet back and forth. Penny squeezed her eyes shut willing him away.

“Penny, I’m so sorry.” He said.

The covers fell down her shoulder when she shrugged and after a moment, heard his footsteps walking away.

Penny was left longing for company with no voice to ask. All she wanted was warm strong arms to hold her but the small fire her heart guarded over was growing smaller as each day passed. The sun’s reflection in the window caught her eye and Penny sent a silent prayer up to the sky that someone would come for her and she would break free from this glass cage.

Resources: Mrs. Delores's shoes would be like this 1930's lace-up boot Did anyone catch the line from Wicked?

Thank you!

Taglist: @whatisthou @warmwithafewfrostymoments

Next Chapter Five: A Day She Receives Some News

#spiderman AU #spiderman fanfiction #Annie AU #Penny Parker #female peter parker #peter is female #corporal punishment #swearing #child abuse #marvel fanfiction #my writing #a night she won't soon forget #tony stark #pepper potts

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thedeviltohisangel · 5 years

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The Way The Story Ends//1//You Should See Me In A Crown

Fight Club AU; Duncan is in love with his best friend’s sister and that it not the only secret he is keeping.

Fight warning

masterlist in bio!

send in thoughts, questions or ideas!

“I told Tala she could host my sister’s welcome back party here tonight.” Duncan looked up quickly from where he had been wiping down the bar top.

“Your sister’s back?” He thinks he was doing a poor job of containing his excitement at the news. Charlotte had spent the past few years at nursing school, only coming back every once in awhile to visit her brother.

“Her graduation is in a couple days but she had time in between and thought she’d spend it here,” Liam said as he finished sweeping under all the tables. Liam was his best friend ever since elementary school. While Duncan had never thought college was right for him, he went to trade school, Liam had gone and gotten his MBA. Together, they had decided to open a bar. It was doing well enough that they both afforded their apartments every month.

“Are you going to her graduation?”

“Well, yeah. It’s not like anyone else is around to support her and celebrate her. You wanna come? The three of us could make a weekend out of it. Maybe she could introduce us to some of her hot nursing friends.” Duncan laughed. As if he could ever focus on anyone else if Charlotte was in the room. He had been in love with her for as long as he could remember. But she was his best friend’s little sister. It would be wrong to act on his feelings for her. He couldn’t risk losing his friendship with Liam.

“Sounds fun. I’ll come if you think she won’t mind.” Liam scoffed.

“My sister and I both view you as family. I’m sure she’d be upset if you didn’t come.” Their parents had passed away when they were young and they had supplanted their family with friends. Duncan was their closest friend.

“Hey, hi, hello.” They both looked towards the door to see the woman in question. Charlotte. The object of Duncan’s love and affection ever since she had crashed a weekend beach trip while they were in college. There had been something about her on that trip that had struck a chord in him. She was no longer just his friend’s little sister but had become the most beautiful girl in the world to him. He hadn’t been able to recover since.

“Hey! I thought you weren’t getting in until tonight!” Liam embraced his sister in a big hug, kissing the top of her head. They were each other’s only family and it felt wrong to be apart.

“I was if I took the train. Then Finn offered to drive me so I could bring a bunch of stuff home. Less to move out after graduation.”

“Oh. Who’s Finn?” Charlotte slapped her brother’s arm.

“He’s gay and even if he wasn’t, not every boy I mention is someone I’m dating or fucking.” Duncan gripped the rag tighter at the image.

“Hey, Charlotte.” Duncan figured it was best to interrupt the conversation before if got out of hand and became a fight.

“I was working my way over for a hug, I promise!” She ducked under the side of the bar and wrapped her arms around Duncan’s waist. Charlotte squeezed him tightly, finding just as much comfort in Duncan as she did her brother, before pulling away and kissing him on the cheek. “How have you been? How’s the bar been?”

“I’ve been good. With the weather warming up there’s been a lot of people needing their AC fixed so I’m keeping busy.” She nodded but looked at him confusedly. The past couple times she had seen Duncan, he had kept the conversation very surface level. As if they were just strangers bumping into each other on the sidewalk. She wondered what had changed.

“The bar has been doing great! We’ve been booking some bigger acts for our music nights and the little appetizer menu has been really taking off,” Liam exclaimed.

“I’m happy for the both of you. Glad you’ve kept the place standing since I’ve been gone. I can’t wait to hang out here like every day.”

“We don’t want you here.”

“Is that true, Duncan?” She looked at him with a teasing smirk. He doesn’t think anything sounded better than seeing Charlotte every day.

“I’d love to have you here. You’re much nicer to look at than your brother.”

“He does set the bar so low…”

“Okay enough out of you two. Charlie lets go and unpack all your crap. I’m gonna have an anxiety attack over the mental image of unpacked boxes in my living room.”

“I’m surprised you don’t punch him in the face more often,” she said with a roll of her eyes. Duncan looked at her with momentary alarm. Did she know about his fighting? How did she know? She wasn’t supposed to know. No one was supposed to know.

“Thankfully, my business partner isn’t a violent guy. Just a big teddy bear.” Liam clapped Duncan on the shoulder before picking up the backpack Charlotte had dropped on the floor and walking out to his car.

“You’ll be at my party tonight?” she asked the other man hopefully. Her fingers twisted with themselves in front of her, eager to not let her hope of seeing Duncan again show too much.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he whispered back, keeping his eyes locked onto hers the entire time. It was almost as though the tension and chemistry between them was choking the truth from coming out of their lips. Charlotte had always thought it was cliche and embarrassing to have a crush on her older brother’s best friend. Thought Duncan viewed her as a child and would view her feelings towards him as immature. He deserved a strong, powerful, confident woman. Not a little girl who he probably only viewed as a sister.

“Okay. Then I’ll see you tonight.” She waved over her shoulder as she exited the bar to join her brother who was about to honk the horn of his car. He released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding in as soon as she was out of his orbit.

“Fuck me.” He hadn’t anticipated having a reaction to Charlotte being back in his life. Had just thought they’d exist with each other the way they always had. But it seemed fate had an entirely different plan for him. He was monumentally screwed.

----

Duncan felt the blood of the other man splatter against his knuckles as his fist made solid contact with his jaw. He had tried to get out of his fight for tonight so he could make Charlotte’s party but the amount of money people had spent on bets had prevented him from being able to do so. His own eye was swollen and the tape had ripped away from his knuckles a round or two ago. There was no way he could go now looking like this. He was channeling his heartbreak into beating the shit out of the guy. His opponent rebounded slightly from the last punch, Duncan ducking under his arm and nailing him right in the stomach. The cheers of the crowd shook the underground room where the fight club took place. It was hard to get in and even harder to get the chance to fight. With one last kick landing on the side of his opponent’s head, he fell and Duncan was the winner. It hurt his shoulder when his arm was raised above his head but he took the pain and took the cheers because it meant he’d be leaving with a lot more money in his account.

He cleaned up quickly, signing up for a couple more fights that month, before flipping up the hood of his sweatshirt and meandering to the back entrance of the club. People were required to check in their phones and any other type of device before entering so no one could get audio or video of club happenings.

“Hey, Al,” Duncan said as he approached one of the guards that held the keys to the phones.

“Sup, Dunc? You looked really good out there tonight. Like you needed it to be over quick.” He took his phone when Al handed it to him.

“There was a party but I can’t go looking like this so…”

“Well, there are some girls waiting in the back alley for you. Think they were looking for a good time with the winner.” Duncan rolled his eyes. There were always girls that lurked around afterwards hoping one of the fighters would pick them up and show them a good time while his adrenaline was still running high. He had to admit that he had taken up the offer before but it felt odd to do it tonight. Since he had promised Charlotte he’d be with her. He couldn’t be with another girl.

“Maybe next time. You can tell the next guy they’re all his.” Al nodded in understanding, Duncan increasing his speed through the alley so they wouldn’t try to stop him. The route from the warehouse back to his apartment took him past the bar and part of him considered taking a different way so he didn’t have to risk running into anyone or having someone see him and wonder what had happened to his face. But something told him it was worth at least just walking by to check it out.

People were on the roof laughing and dancing and drinking. He saw Liam dancing with the girl he had been trying to go out to dinner with. He recognized some of Charlotte’s friends sitting at the bar. Saw some of his old friends that had gathered to celebrate the accomplishment of someone they loved. And he loved her too. He loved her so much. But he couldn’t tell her about his fighting. Couldn’t tell anyone. It would put them in too much danger.

----

Charlotte was feeling entirely dejected as she sat at the bar. Duncan had told her he wouldn’t miss it for the world. And she had believed him. Thought everything was going to be just as it always had been. That he would be back in her life again. She hadn’t thought that perhaps he had moved onto bigger and better things in her time away. That maybe there was a woman in his life. That maybe he had other friends he wanted to hang out with. She felt stupid for assuming he’d want to hang out with her at all. Everyone around her was having so much fun and they wanted her to have fun as well but she couldn’t find the strength. How do you recover from being heartbroken when the love might have been one sided all along?

Maybe it was a sixth sense but she looked over to the glass wall at the entrance and saw a dark figure looking in. She couldn’t see the details of his face but the way he carried himself looked familiar. At any rate, if someone was being creepy towards her friends at her brother’s bar then she had to take care of it. Charlotte walked towards the door and the man didn’t move and now she was getting annoyed.

“Excuse me, can I help you? This is a private event.” He turned his head and she thinks it was Duncan. She thinks it would be impossible for anyone else to have eyes that blue. But Duncan, at least not the Duncan she knew, would have a black eye like that. One that looked like it was painful and new. “Duncan? What happened?”

“Nothing. Nothing. Just walked into a pole when I was texting earlier.” Her eyes fell to his ripped open knuckles that were clenched around his gym bag.

“Let me look at those for you. Have they been cleaned? You should wrap some bandages around them.” She turned to go back into the bar and look for a first aid kit when he grabbed her arm.

“I’m fine. Really. I just wanted to stop by before I went home. I promised you I would come and I…” he swallowed, “I couldn’t break a promise to you.”

“I’m so happy you came. Now my night feels complete.” Even if she wasn’t in love with Duncan, he was still like family to her. Celebrations like this were meant to be spent with loved ones and family. “Do you want to go sit on the side for a minute? Let me get a first aid kit?” He got the sense that she wasn’t going to take no for an answer so he nodded, waiting for her to join him again before moving to sit on the side of the building where they could have some privacy.

“Are you trained in school to never leave an injured man be?” he teased. She smiled at him but remained serious as she dabbed at the cuts with an alcohol wipe.

“Do they hurt?” she asked delicately. She was cradling his hand in both of hers as if it was the most fragile and precious of items.

“No.” He didn’t want to admit to her that he had gotten used to the feeling. Had gotten used to the pain.

“I think you should maybe put your phone on airplane mode until you’re sitting down from now on.” She pressed a bit of ointment to his knuckles before wrapping them in a bandage.

“Thank you. I feel better already.” And it was true. From the inside out.

“I was starting to wonder if you got a better offer for tonight and weren’t going to come.” She didn’t want to sound whiny or childish but she needed to get the feeling off of her chest. The weight of her feelings was heavy.

“You mean a lot to me, Charlotte. Any chance to let you know that and to celebrate you, I’ll come running.” Oh how good it felt for Duncan to say that. He meant so much more than what the words conveyed but it was a start and it felt glorious. Like bathing in sunlight. She placed her hand gently on his cheek that wasn’t injured and tugged his head to inch closer to hers.

“You mean so much to me, too. More than I may ever be able to show you.” He thinks this was it. The moment he should finally tell her how he felt. Admit that he was in love with her and take on any of the consequences that may come from doing so. It’d be worth it. Worth it to live his life with the freedom of knowing the woman he loved knew he loved her.

“Charlotte, I-” She shushed him gently with a finger to his lips, closing her eyes and giving into the pull of Duncan’s heart and the push of her own.

“Oh my God, Charlotte! There you are!”

“We’ve been looking all over for you!” They jumped apart from each other as the door being flung open startled them.

“I was just-” she turned to look back at Duncan but he was already gone.

“Come back inside. It’s too chilly to sit out here.” Charlotte let them drag her back in but she kept her eyes on the spot where he had been only a few seconds ago. Hoping there would be a sign that it hadn’t been a dream. She didn’t know that he was only a block in front of her. Praying for the same thing.

@ticklish-leafy-plant @aveiangdon @and-shes-not-even-pretty @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @bbyduncan @khaleesimel @langdonslove

#duncan shepherd #cody fern #house of cards #michael langdon #jim mason

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peraltasames · 5 years

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mountains and valleys (and all that will come in between) - chapter one

Jake, Amy, and four distinct yet painfully similar times the universe pulled them apart and pushed them back together.

read on ao3

part one: undercover

When Jake leaves Amy standing outside the precinct, her mouth slightly agape and the air sucked out of her lungs, she doesn’t know when she’s going to see him again.

In a much darker realm of possibility that she doesn’t dare to explore for too long, she doesn’t know if she’s going to see him again.

She recalls in vivid horror the time that her old precinct, back when she was a beat cop, received word that one of their detectives was tortured and killed on an undercover operation scarily similar to the one Jake is embarking on. She hopes and prays that the detective the NYPD lost that day five years ago didn’t leave some unlucky man or woman with a confession of love and longing that they would never get the chance to act on.

She stands in place, her feet incapable of movement, for an indefinite amount of time. She isn’t sure if it’s five minutes or an hour that pass by - or, if she’s lucky, the entirety of the three to five months that the FBI estimates Jake’s mission to take - but eventually the wind picks up and a shiver runs up her spine. She feels her phone buzz in her pocket and wonders how long it’s been doing that, how long she’s been completely unaware her surroundings.

Teddy Wells

Hi, Amy. Are you still coming over? It’s unlike you to be late.

Teddy Wells

(2) Missed Calls

There are a million things she wants to do right now: run after Jake (though he’s long gone), scream, throw something breakable, drink an entire bottle of vodka, flee the country. Spending time with Teddy is low on the list. She isn’t obligated to - they haven’t been dating for that long and it’s perfectly okay for her to choose a night in without giving him a full explanation - but blowing off her boyfriend would mean that something has changed.

She can’t admit that she feels as though her entire world has been shifted on its axis. Not to herself. Definitely not to the man she is dating. And not to Jake, either, because he never gave her the damn chance to.

He disappeared like a wildfire that was suddenly extinguished, and she’s left to deal with the rubble.

According to the alarm clock next to her bed, which she must arch her body over Teddy’s sleeping form to read properly, it’s nearly three in the morning.

Precisely five hours after the time that Teddy insists they go to bed following their evening crossword, and she’s gotten - in total - about one hour of sleep.

It’s not Amy’s fault. She knows she has to be up in three hours for work and it’s going to be a busy day working as a secondary on Rosa’s homicide case. She knows she’s barely slept all week and her body is hating her for it.

She blames a part of her brain that she knows from AP bio but is too damn tired to recall for the images that appear every time she closes her eyes.

Jake, laughing in the passenger seat of her squad car about the imaginary backstory he’s invented for one of his undercover personas.

Jake, biting his lip and absentmindedly running his hand through messy hair as he stares pensively at a case file, the gears in his mind turning wildly.

Jake, standing in front of her eight days ago and saying “I kinda wish something could happen between us...romantic-stylez”.

The ethical complications of thinking such thoughts about another man while in bed next to her sleeping boyfriend clog her mind, making it even harder to rest.

She trudges to the kitchen, surrendering to her losing battle with sleep. Her socked feet tip-toe on the hardwood floor to avoid any creaking sounds that may wake Teddy.

It isn’t until she raises a glass of water to her lips that she notices her hands are shaking. Her entire body is shaking, actually, which is one of the first indicators of an oncoming panic attack. She tries to breathe slowly, close her eyes and count to ten, like she’s been instructed to. It works some of the time.

“C’mon, Amy,” she mumbles to herself, shutting her eyes even tighter as she feels tears threaten to escape. “Get it together.”

I know you’re with Teddy, and I know it’s going really well.

She shakes her head, slamming her glass down on the counter a bit too loudly. “Stop thinking about it,” she says aloud, willing Jake’s voice in her head to just disappear.

I don't know what's gonna happen on this assignment, and if something bad goes down, I think I'd be pissed at myself if I didn't say this.

Her fingernails dig into her palms as she tries to ground herself to reality. She’s worried that these thoughts and emotions are going to eat her alive.

“Fuck,” she blurts out, her hand coming to cover her mouth the moment she blurts out the word. The Santiagos conditioned their children not to curse at a young age through loss of before-bed reading time, and it’s stuck with her through to adulthood. She rarely swears, and only does so in situations that demand such a word to be spoken. But, damn, if this doesn’t fit the bill, what does?

I kinda wish something could happen, between us, romantic styles.

In the darkness of her kitchen, with not a soul there to hear her, she whispers:

“So do I.”

It takes another five days for Amy to confide in someone. She’s not thinking about Jake - one of the rare moments of the past two weeks that her thoughts manage to travel elsewhere - as she sits on Teddy’s living room sofa, reading one of her favourite crime novels while he flips through the channels.

“Do you want to watch this one?”

She’s too engrossed in her novel, which is steadily climbing towards the big climax she’s read a dozen times but never tires of, to look up from its pages.

“Whatever you want, I’m not really watching,” she mumbles, hastily turning the page.

Teddy murmurs words of agreement and selects whatever title he was pondering, and it takes about twenty seconds for Amy to recognize the dialogue.

“You throw quite a party. I didn’t realize they celebrated Christmas in Japan.”

Before she looks up at the screen, she’s briefly transported to several distinct memories of the past few years: Jake’s couch four months ago, a half-eaten pizza and two cans of orange soda in front of them, watching this very movie; a year before that, viewing it (along with the sequel) at Charles’ place during Jake’s surprise birthday party; her first year at the Nine-Nine, sitting in the break room with a shitty laptop on the table playing the film while Captain McGintley took his afternoon nap, despite Amy’s better judgement.

“Everything okay?”

Amy glances down at the book, which she unknowingly dropped in her lap as her eyes fixed on Bruce Willis shooting a gun on Teddy’s television. She realizes with a sharp pain in her chest that this is the first time in years that she’s watched this movie without Jake present.

“Do you not like Die Hard? We can watch something else-“

“No,” she interrupts, shaking her head. “I mean, no, I don’t like Die Hard, but...that’s not what’s bothering me.”

Teddy furrows his eyebrows and turns off the television, twisting his body to face her and, perhaps, to figure out what she’s thinking.

“There’s a reason I’ve been kind of weird the past couple of weeks.”

He prompts her to continue with a slow nod. It certainly has not gone unnoticed the way she’s flinched away from so many of his touches, declined his advances in the bedroom every evening, stared into space for most of their dinners together.

“You know how Peralta got fired?”

Teddy nods again, somewhat more apprehensively. Jake’s been a source of tension for them before, from their first date after Tactical Village Day when Teddy questioned if they had some sort of romantic history and Amy rambled incessantly about how he’s her coworker and she would never date him rather than giving a simple and far less suspicious “no.”

“You can’t tell anyone this, but he had to get fired so he could go on an undercover mission with the FBI. And before he left, he, um...” She swallows the lump in her throat, which now feels incredibly dry. “He told me he had feelings for me.”

Teddy’s eyes widen, and he discards the blanket previously draped over his lap.

“Well, you told him it’s never gonna happen, right?” he asks quickly, anger building in his voice.

“I didn’t really get the chance, he kinda just dropped the bomb and walked away and we can’t have any contact-“

“Do you have feelings for him?”

The right answer to that question isn’t immediately evident to Amy - a “no” would be a blatant lie, but “yes” would immediately terminate a relationship that she isn’t sure she’s ready to see the end of. Teddy is the perfect man on paper, the kind of man that her father would probably approve of upon their first introduction. He’s a good cop, just like Jake, but his approach to detective work is methodical and precise and completely unlike the frantic (brilliant) energy of Jake solving a case nobody else, even Amy herself, could solve. She feels comfortable with him, she feels safe, but she’s wondered from time to time if it’s a little too safe. It’s only logical - there’s no way he can break her heart if he never really has it in the first place.

Regardless of her intentions, she gathers from Teddy’s disappointed glare that the right answer is probably not complete silence.

“I think I-I’m confused.”

Teddy pauses, his ears reddening like he’s gearing up for an argument, but instead lets out a heavy sigh and nods his head. “Okay. I guess you should probably-“

“Go home and take some time to think,” Amy finishes.

“I was going to say we should talk about this, but…if that’s what you need.”

Amy looks at him apologetically and presses a quick peck to his cheek before standing to gather her things.

“I’ll call you on the weekend,” she calls out to him before shutting his front door behind her, scurrying downstairs and to the nearest bodega to buy a pack of cigarettes.

The next three months bring longer days and warmer weather to New York. Summer means the precinct is at a more acceptable temperature for Amy’s eternally-cold skin, it means the majority of her colleagues are cashing in their time off and she has more casework to keep herself busy, and this year it means long nights hiding at work to avoid her boyfriend who is still, somehow, her boyfriend despite her weeks of confusion and claiming she felt they were “out of sync.”

Really, the confusion is far from resolved. It definitely won’t be until Jake is back and she can at least speak to him about everything, but it’s become increasingly unclear when that will be as the three-month park passes and they still have little to no information on the status of his case.

It’s a particularly hot June afternoon, shortly before the end of her shift and the beginning of the weekend. She’s heading to New Jersey tomorrow morning (it’s no coincidence that she’s visiting her parents so much more frequently these past few months - Jersey is a Teddy-free zone, and therefore a hard-to-answer-question-free zone) and wrapping up the last of a string of open-and-shut B&Es.

Her head jolts up from her desk when she hears the sound of the captain exiting his office, the familiar clacking of his shoes on the tile floor a sound that she’s taught herself to respond to with alertness.

“Jeffords, Santiago, Boyle and Diaz, can I see you all for a moment?”

She’s up at her feet in an instant, the first to enter the captain’s office as the others follow behind her. Rosa’s the last to walk in, and Holt closes the door immediately behind her.

“What’s going on, sir?” Terry asks, crossing his arms.

“A friend of mine at the FBI has given me some insight into Peralta’s case that I felt I should share with all of you,” Holt explains, moving to stand behind his desk.

She can’t gage from his expression whether the news is that he’s coming home or that he’s dead or something else entirely, but her knees go weak nonetheless and she grabs onto the back of a chair as subtilely as possible.

“What is it?” Charles asks quickly with wide eyes. “Is Jake okay?”

“He’s alive,” Holt says quickly, and Amy’s world stops spinning long enough that she’s able to nod in understanding and stand a little straighter. “The case is going well, and there is a chance that they’re getting close to being able to set up a sting. Unfortunately, the closer that Peralta gets to the Ianucci family, the more their enemies become his. He hasn’t sustained any major injuries, but the danger of the case has grown exponentially…”

Amy watches Holt’s lips move for another minute or two, but the rest of the words fade out into a dull humming sound in her ears. She wants to collapse to the floor or run to the bathroom and throw up, but her feet are glued to the floor.

“Santiago, are you alright?”

It’s not the first time the voice of her commanding officer is the only thing to snap her out of a heavy trance. She looks up at Holt and realizes that he’s done his spiel and his eyes, along with everyone else in the room’s, are fixed on her.

“I’m fine, sir,” she says, supporting her statement with a contender for the most obviously fake smile in history. “I’m sorry, will you excuse me? I think I’m getting a-a call-“

With a small nod of approval from Captain Holt, she’s pushing past Rosa towards the exit and running to the roof. She needs air. She needs nicotine. She needs, and this one is by far the most pressing, to see Jake Peralta healthy and alive.

A dark corner at Shaw’s and several bottles of beer, Amy quickly realizes, is the best and only available antidote for the day she’s had. No Teddy, no smalltalk with coworkers, nothing but the numbing effect of the alcohol on her tired brain.

She hasn’t spent much time here over the past few months. It turns out there are a lot of places that feel just a little bit wrong without Jake around. Some are unavoidable - work, for instance, and the little deli across the street that they both love. Others, she avoids at all cost - the bar, his neighbourhood, that one apartment building on Barton Street where they conducted a stakeout many months ago on the worst (yet somehow, best) date of her life.

“What’s up with you?”

She looks up from anxiously picking at the wrapper of her bottle at her fellow detective and - sometimes, Amy thinks - friend.

“Oh, hey Rosa,” Amy says quickly, already raising her guard. “Um, nothing’s up with me. What’s up with you?”

She sighs as Rosa gives her the look that she knows by now to mean that she is not having any of her bullshit and subsequently slides into the seat across from her.

“Fine,” Amy mumbles after a few moments of Rosa’s hard stare. She’s a little drunk and feeling a lot of emotions, so she settles on the one that’s the easiest to express right now - anger. “I’m mad at him.”

Rosa narrows her eyes. “Teddy?”

Amy shakes her head incredulously. She supposes it’s the natural assumption, him being her boyfriend and all, but she’s never mad at Teddy. He doesn’t do anything wrong. Even if he did, she doubts he could ever make her feel as mad as she does right now.

“Peralta,” Amy clarifies, not helping the look of confusion on Rosa’s face. “He’s…the worst. I’m pissed at him.”

“For what? He’s been gone for months.”

Amy laughs, taking a long swig of her beer until its contents are completely drained. She imagines she looks like a crazy person as she slams the bottle on the table and continues laughing.

“That’s the problem, Diaz. He left for months, right after he-” She hiccups from the recent chugging of her beverage. “He told me he likes me. Like, likes me likes me. For realz, romantic-stylez, likes me. Jake Peralta.”

Rosa eyebrows raise a little bit, but there is no gasp of shock that follows Amy’s confession. After a moment, she simply nods.

“Hold up,” Amy mumbles, her hands gripping the table as she begins to feel slightly dizzy. “Did you know? Did he tell you?”

“No, Jake and I don’t talk about that crap,” Rosa asserts quickly. “But…I suspected it for a while. I think everyone kinda did.”

Amy lets out a sigh of exasperation, suddenly feeling like the worst detective on Earth. Has he really liked her for a while? Potentially before she embarked on her current relationship, satisfactory yet completely dull in comparison to the excitement of bickering with Jake while on a case?

“He just left and now he could get hurt or-or die and he didn’t even give me the chance to respond,” she whines, burying her face in her hands as her hair falls like a curtain around her head. “What a complete ass.”

“So you like him back, huh?”

Amy hurriedly brushes the hair out of her face to look the other woman in the eye.

“I never said that,” she snaps, once again reverting to the defensive. “I-he’s Jake, I wouldn’t-I mean, maybe, but I’m still with Teddy and I’m just confused, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I just don’t want him to die. That doesn’t mean I like him.”

“Okay.”

“It would be nice to get the chance to figure it out, though. With him here.”

“I know.”

“And…I don’t want to lose him.”

Rosa’s eyes soften a little this time, though her tone remains steady: “You won’t.”

Amy holds her coworker’s - no, they’re definitely friends - gaze, nodding slowly. Rosa’s right about pretty much everything. She hopes this is no exception.

“I need another drink.”

“I don’t think so, Santiago,” Rosa stands and blocks her path back to the bar. “C’mon, I’ll take you home. I haven’t had anything to drink yet.”

A few minutes later, in the passenger seat of Rosa’s car, Amy opens her eyes for the first time since they left the Shaw’s parking lot and turns her head to face Rosa as she focuses on driving.

“Do you think me and Jake - uh, romantic-stylez - would be bad idea?”

Rosa pauses and glances over briefly. “I don’t think you’re gonna remember this tomorrow.”

Amy just curls in on herself and gives into her drunken desire to zone out and stare out the window at the passing city lights.

“But no,” Rosa mutters faintly just before Amy passes out. “I don’t think it’s a bad idea.”

Amy doesn’t get much warning that he’s coming back. There’s been whispers among their detective squad, but no real confirmation that this would be unlike the many other times they were close to a sting but couldn’t quite pull it off.

She has the weekend off, and Sunday evening she gets a text from Rosa:

Jake’s back. They got most of the Ianuccis yesterday - busted at a family wedding. He’ll be at work tomorrow.

She’s beyond grateful for the heads up, because she has at least twelve hours to compose herself before she’s face-to-face with him for the first time in six months..

On one hand, she’s entirely unprepared to see him. On the other, she’s tempted to drive to his apartment right now and kiss him harder than she’s ever kissed anyone.

The more rational part of Amy, the part that is still in a relationship with a reasonable man for a woman approaching her thirties to be dating, wins this one.

She barely sleeps the night before he returns, her mind drafting a dozen options for what she may say to him when they reunite. Some are more dramatic or cliche than others, many would morally require her to break up with Teddy first. All of them end with some acknowledgement of her feelings, but none end up leaving her mouth when the time comes.

They’re in the evidence lockup, alone in a room together for the first time in so long - it felt like an eternity for her, at least - and she just can’t say it. Not like this, not now, not yet.

“I’m still with Teddy. Romantic-stylez.”

The hurt, slightly surprised look on Jake’s face - which she has been subconsciously re-memorizing since the moment he stepped off the elevator - makes her regret the choice instantly, but the real sweeping blow to her heart comes when he takes back his confession a moment later.

Later that day - somewhere between the clinking of glasses, Jake respectfully informing her that he does indeed still have feelings for her but understands that she’s still with Teddy, and a quiet walk alone to the subway after she decides she needs some air - Amy back to square one in terms of the confusion as to where her heart lies.

She arrives at Teddy’s at their agreed upon time and lets herself in, taking her boots off and placing them in the orderly line of his shoes on the rack by the door.

“In the kitchen, Amy!”

The sight before her in his large, well-lit kitchen with marble countertops is nothing new. She can estimate immediately that he’s about halfway through his Pilsner-brewing process, which he’s recently become quite obsessed with. Simply through frequent observation, she’s pretty sure she could make Pilsners in her sleep at this point.

“How was work today?” Teddy asks without looking up from the stove. “I heard Peralta’s back from his big, fancy FBI operation.”

The ignores the condescending tone and obvious jealousy, taking a seat at one of the stools and dropping her purse.

“It was fine.”

“Did you finally tell him nothing’s gonna happen between you two?”

Amy nods slowly, staring at her hands in her lap, and then realizes he still isn’t facing her. “Yeah. I told him.”

Teddy adjusts the burner on the stove and turns to her with a wide smile that fades the moment they make eye contact.

“What’s wrong?” he demands, brows furrowed. “Did he give you a hard time? If he’s being a jerk-“

“No.” God, she wishes he was a jerk. It would be so, so much easier if he was an entitled asshole. “No, he was perfectly respectful. I’m not upset, just-”

“Confused?”

Teddy repeats her choice of words from months ago - a word that is still haunting her - and she wants so badly to lie and shake her head and pretend that everything is fine and there’s nothing to be worried about. She can’t do that in good conscience, but she figures she can keep dating Teddy and see where that relationship takes her as long as she’s at least relatively honest with him.

“Yeah,” she confirms. “So, what flavour is this batch?”

She can see it in his eyes that Teddy isn’t happy with her answer, but at least she knows that she told him (part of) the truth as she sits back and listens to him talk about yeast and fermentation for the next forty minutes.

What she doesn’t admit to him, nor to herself quite yet, is that their relationship has been a ticking time bomb from the moment Jake flagged her down outside the precinct six months ago. Whether she likes it or not, it’s only a matter of time before it explodes and destroys everything in its reach.

Destruction isn’t always the worst thing, though. Not when it’s making room for something new and, if she’s lucky, something beautiful.

#otp: you're not allowed to fall in love with me #b99 fic #peraltiago #let me know what y'all think!!#part 2 should be up pretty soon #and will contain much more actual jake/amy and not just amy thinking about him bc they'll be dating lmao #title from another greatest showman song bc of course it is!#myfics

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dearophelia · 7 years

Text

anthem (3/3)

There’s a crack in everything. Olivia’s never asked Zaeed what he means by that, but she wants there to be a hopeful second half to the phrase. Eight months is a long time without Garrus.

That’s how the light gets in.

Previously on: Part 1 | Part 2

~3500 words this chapter; Olivia/Garrus, Olivia+Liara

Liara, it’s Liv. If you can hear this, please respond.

Liara mmphs in protest and turns over onto her stomach.

Liara, it’s Liv. If you can hear this, please respond.

“‘‘m asleep,” she mumbles. “Go away.” Through the haze of sleep, she wonders whether she’s properly lost her mind now - yelling at herself for talking to herself in her best friend’s voice while she’s sleeping.

Olivia’s words repeat over and over - Liara, it’s Liv. If you can hear this, please respond. Liara, it’s Liv. If you can hear this, please respond. Liara, it’s Liv. If you can hear this - and Liara gets annoyed enough that she reaches out and slaps at her nightstand, as if trying to silence a particularly-annoying alarm clock.

Ironic, she thinks as her hand connects with nothing but air, since she’s the one who once dumped a bucket of ice water over a sleeping Olivia’s head.

Please respond.

Liara blinks herself awake. Slowly, and as the message continues, she comes to the realization that this isn’t her subconscious showing its cruel side, and this isn’t Olivia in her head just messing with her. It’s an automatic message. A real message. Liara sits up in her darkened room and stares across at her terminal, and the blinking purple light.

Liara, it’s Liv. If you can hear this, please respond.

She gasps. “Olivia.” She throws the comforter off of her and nearly sprints out of bed. They must finally be within range of a working Alliance short-range comm buoy. The metal deck plating is cold against her bare feet, but she hardly notices it as she activates their comm channel.

“I’m here, Olivia,” she says through a rushed breath. No answer. “Olivia, you woke me up. The polite thing to do would be to answer the phone.”

There’s a rustle of blankets, and then a groan, followed by a clatter and a muffled “shit.” Tears spring to Liara’s eyes as she tries to tamp down a smile at her friend’s expense. She must’ve dropped her omnitool.

But it means that she’s alive. And there aren’t any hospital beeps in the background, so Olivia must also be okay.

“You woke me up,” Olivia teases in return, her voice still thick with sleep, “the least you could do is not laugh at me.”

Tears spill down Liara’s cheeks. She collapses into her chair, pressing a hand to her mouth. “You’re alive,” she sobs in such relief that it hurts.

“Yeah,” Olivia whispers. She sniffles, clearly fighting her own tears and failing. “So are you.”

Gratitude and joy wash over her at hearing Olivia’s voice again. They’ve had no news at all of her and Earth, only bits and pieces from other parts of the galaxy gleaned from passing ships trying to make their own slow way home. But Olivia is alive and talking to her.

“How are you?” she asks once both their tears are under control. And, oh, what she wouldn’t give to be in the same room as her, to be able to hug her tight and feel that she’s alive.

“Better now. How about you?”

Liara knows her friend well enough to hear in her voice that Olivia desperately isn’t okay. Neither is she, but both things can keep. “Better now,” she repeats.

“Did everyone…” Olivia trails off, as if not wanting to give voice to the words, in case that would make them true.

“Everyone is okay,” Liara says. She knows exactly what Olivia wants to know, and also exactly why she’s so scared to ask. “Garrus is okay,” she says.

Olivia’s deep sigh of relief nearly causes Liara to start crying again. She loves Olivia dearly, and that only makes the rest of the news that much worse. She sniffs, and clenches her teeth together to keep the tears at bay. The truth is that he’s fine - but only for now.

“What’s wrong?”

Liara closes her eyes. “We ran out of dextro rations last week,” she says softly.

Silence, broken only by the rustle of blankets and the soft chime of a laptop turning on.

“Liv?”

“There’s a dextro supply ship in your area. I’m rerouting it to intercept you - it’ll be there day after tomorrow.” She says the second sentence all in one shaky breath.

Liara’s brows furrow. Her agents are in disarray, and her channels are mostly scrambled and static, but she has a tap on the Normandy’s short-range sensors. There wasn’t a ship within two day’s flight when she checked before bed. “How?”

“Long story, but apparently saving the galaxy wasn’t enough. Now I have to fix it.”

Liara grins. There’s a smile behind Olivia’s words. “The galaxy couldn’t be in better hands.”

Olivia snorts. “Hackett promoted me to Captain. I thanked him by retiring three days later.” There’s the sound of tapping on a keyboard. “How are you on levo food?”

Ashley held that meeting this afternoon, for senior staff only. They’ve been rationing, and though it hasn’t been the same hard rations Garrus went down to, they’re about to have to start. “We could use some.” Her six-month estimate was close, but they’ve had to barter for eezo to keep the FTL drive running.

More tapping. “Okay. That one will be there in three days.” She pauses, and then there’s an audible smile even though she’s quiet. “It looks like you’ll be here in two weeks,” she says.

Navigation has still been a little twitchy; she knew they were approaching Earth, but didn’t quite know how close they were. And with food on the way, those two weeks won’t be quite so desperate. Liara smiles softly.

They talk for over an hour. Liara tells Olivia about the Normandy’s repairs and the Monopoly tournament that Ashley’s poised to win tomorrow night, while Olivia tells her about learning to walk again and rebuilding relays.

“Can I…can I talk to Garrus?” Olivia asks quietly during a lull in the conversation.

Garrus’ mental state hasn’t been the greatest the past few months, and it hasn’t been helped by how far he had to cut down on rations to make them last as long as they did. She’s taken to just giving him space, and checking in on him over ship’s comms a few times a day. Liara suspects that hearing Olivia’s voice will do wonders for him, maybe even start to lift him out of the depression that’s settled over him.

“Of course,” Liara says. She looks at the clock, and then stands. “He’s probably asleep, let me get him.”

***

Garrus hasn’t slept solidly through the night since Chakwas stopped giving him the good painkillers months ago. The quiet knocking intrudes on the fuzzy border between sleep and awake. He opens his eyes. The knocking continues.

Sighing, he gingerly gets out of bed and opens the door, ignoring how weak and shaky he felt just walking across the room. “Liara,” he says, blinking in the light of the hall.

Her eyes cast downward, to his hand, and he realizes he’s carrying Olivia’s teddy bear. A younger version of himself - one not quite so tired, one not quite so hungry, and one not quite so in love with a woman who is probably dead - would try to hide the bear behind his back. Garrus merely curls his talons around it.

His eyes finally focus enough to clearly see Liara as she stands in front of him. She’s barefoot and in her pajamas, with tear-stained cheeks, but she’s smiling. He blinks at her. There are two reasons she’d wake him up in the middle of the night like this, and both of them involve Olivia.

50-50 chance, though she probably wouldn’t be smiling for one of those. Garrus takes a deep breath and holds it.

“I have someone who really wants to talk to you,” Liara says, smile widening even as her eyes shimmer. She taps at her omnitool and then his beeps with the message transfer.

He stares at the little blinking light, and then back at Liara. Liara nods, still smiling, and wipes away a tear. He accepts the message.

“Shepard?” he asks tentatively, after the comm beeps in his ear.

“Yeah,” Olivia’s voice comes in quiet, but strong and clear. “Hi, Garrus.”

All his breath leaves him at once. “Olivia,” he exhales. He leans against the wall.

“I’ll let you two talk,” Liara whispers. A dim beep signals that she’s left the comm channel. She smiles, and gives his arm a little squeeze, and then she turns and heads into the elevator.

Garrus quietly steps back into their quarters. He suddenly feels calmer, more at peace than he has in eight months. For the moment, he isn’t even hungry. Olivia is alive, and he’s hearing her voice again. And this time, it isn’t to listen to her say goodbye.

He doesn’t know what to say. How are you seems too small, but anything else seems wrong. “You, you’re -” he stutters. He spent months preparing himself for the opposite news. It never once occurred to him how he’d feel learning that she survived.

“So are you,” she says, filling in the rest of his sentence for herself.

Garrus hears the smile in her voice, and it brings one to his own face. He sits down in the middle of their bed as his emotions - a swirl of relief, gratitude, joy, happiness, fear, and everything in between - rise up in him, too overwhelmed for words. She’s alive she’s alive she’s alive.

“You okay?” she asks after his silence stretches on.

He takes a breath and nods. “Yeah. Spirits, I’ve missed you.” His subvocals rumble quietly through his words - no longer with sadness and despair, but with warmth and love. He closes his eyes and crushes the bear to his chest; he hasn’t heard those tones in a very long time.

Olivia sniffles. “I’ve missed you, too. And there’s food on the way. Thirty-six hours, tops.”

Garrus doesn’t even care how she did it. “Oh,” he gasps, “thank you.” He’s going to eat again, and soon. He really won’t die of starvation on the way back to her.

“Hey, you promised me a house with a stupidly-large bathtub,” she grins, “I’m just making sure you can deliver.”

Garrus laughs. “I’m glad I know where your priorities are.”

“I gave you the food news first,” she teases.

Now that he knows there’s hope on the horizon, it’s like his stomach finally decides to protest how empty it’s been. He closes his eyes against a cramp and a wave of vertigo. “Stop saying ‘food,’” he groans.

“Sorry. Oh! We’ve been in contact with Palaven. Your dad and Solana are okay.”

Garrus lets out another breath of relief and closes his eyes in sheer gratitude - to his spirits, to Olivia’s gods, to Ashley’s God, to Liara’s goddess, to the universe. Olivia is okay. His family is okay. He is going to be okay.

They all made it.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “Can you…”

“I’ll let them know,” she promises.

“How are you?” he finally asks.

She shifts, and he hears the rustling of blankets. She must be in bed. He listens hard, but he can’t hear any beeps or machinery in the background; she’s not in a hospital, and he closes his eyes, thankful.

“Hang on,” she says. “Yeah?” she calls softly.

There’s dull murmuring as she has a conversation with someone.

“Sorry. Mom saw the light under the door and was worried.”

Garrus lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Hannah’s alive too, and she’s with Olivia. Everyone really did make it to the other side of the war.

“I’m…okay,” she says, her voice suddenly wobbly and quiet.

“Liv?” he asks gently. She doesn’t sound okay.

She sniffles and takes a shallow breath. “It’s really good to hear your voice again.”

Garrus hears the tears in her voice, and he hugs the teddy bear tighter, as if he could hug hard enough and she’d be able to feel it. But all he can do is listen as she cries. This isn’t one last call at the Crucible, and it isn’t if I’m up there in that bar and you’re not, yet somehow hearing her cry now is worse. He could do something about these tears, if only he were there; he could hold her, hug her, brush his talons through her hair and press his lips to her temple, comfort her. He exhales slowly and lets his love roll through his subharmonics. Maybe it’ll come through over the comm channel.

“Sorry,” she says after a while, once her tears have calmed. She sniffs. “Been kinda rough.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. Kinda rough is certainly one way to describe the last eight months. “You’re okay?”

“More or less,” she says. “I’m having some trouble sleeping,” she adds. By the waver in her voice, Garrus knows that it’s far more than just some trouble. He’s not surprised. Sleeping completely through the night hasn’t been in her skill set for a very long time.

“And, uh,” she hesitates, and it sets him on alert. “Something fell on me, completely crushed my leg. Miranda hooked me up with a nifty prosthetic.”

“Shepard,” he breathes. Part of him wonders what it is with the women in his life and injured legs. Better a leg than a life, he supposes.

“I’m okay, Garrus. I mean, if that’s the worst injury that I got from this war…” she trails off. “It doesn’t make me any taller, though,” she pouts.

Garrus laughs. Trust Olivia to turn a missing leg into a joke about her height. There’s no waver in her voice this time; if she was bothered by it in the beginning, she truly isn’t anymore. “I love you,” he says with a smile.

“I love you,” she says.

His heart swells. He’ll never grow tired of hearing that.

“You’re in one piece though, right?”

“Yes,” Garrus reassures her. His clothes are hanging off of him, he hasn’t slept well in recent memory, and it’ll be a long time before he’s back in fighting shape. Even with the promise of food soon, he’ll probably need to spend some time in a hospital when they finally make it back. But thanks to Olivia, he’s no longer in danger of actually starving to death.

They stay on the comm for hours, sometimes in silence just listening to each other breathe, until Olivia has to get ready for a meeting with Hackett.

“I’ll call you later,” she says.

“Sounds good,” he says. His throat’s suddenly tight - he actually will talk to her later. The horror of the last months, not knowing if he’d ever hear her voice again, is truly over. He will talk to her in a few hours, and he will see her - kiss her, hug her, hold her, touch her - in two weeks.

“I love you,” she says.

He flicks his mandibles outward, smiling. “I love you, too.”

***

Exactly two weeks later, Olivia stands on the dock, squinting upward at the sky. She shades her eyes against the sun, and peers at the clouds, searching for the telltale dot. Mostly, she sees birds. The Normandy isn’t here yet - at last check, they’d just passed Mars - but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t look for them now anyway.

She’s spoken to both Garrus and Liara every day for the past two weeks, sometimes more than once, and it’s like a weight has lifted from her shoulders. She feels like she’s standing up straight again, after months curled in protectively around herself. Her night terrors have even stopped.

Interesting coincidence, her therapist had said kindly. Olivia had rolled her eyes, but smiled. Yeah. Interesting.

They aren’t gone for good - the terrors are too strong and too vivid to simply be banished by Garrus’ voice as she falls asleep, or the chime of Liara’s chat as she live-texts updates of Ashley’s Indiana Avenue triumph over James - but they’re gone for now. She’s slept better in two weeks than she has in almost a year. Zaeed even pulled her aside the other morning, making sure she really was sleeping okay and not just trying to hide it from him again.

Zaeed may not be her father, but Olivia’s learned over the last eight months that he knows exactly where the line is. She’s also learned how much she appreciates that - both the line, and that he walks right up to it. She’d smiled and told him she was fine, and for the first time in a long time, both things were genuine and true.

Hackett stands beside her, in his dress blues while she’s in black jeans and a dark blue shirt; it feels a little strange to be in civilian clothes on an Alliance dock, but a good strange - something she’s looking forward to getting used to. A dextro medical team waits a few steps behind them. Her supply ships may have gotten food to Garrus before it was too late, but he went a long time on nearly empty, and the Normandy’s dextro medical supplies were dwindling even before they headed to Earth for the final assault. Garrus will be fine, Dr. Chakwas and three turian doctors promised her exactly that, but he needs help.

She spies press starting to line up along the edges of the dock, and sighs. “Did you have to invite them?” At least Wrex has ordered half a dozen krogan to stand as barricade, keeping the press from invading too much.

“I didn’t,” Hackett says, with a weary sigh.

Olivia smiles; she feels that sigh deep in her bones. The cameras and reporters are annoying, but truthfully, she’s not even sure she minds. Garrus and Liara are only a few minutes out, and nothing else matters.

“Flight, this is SSV Normandy,” Joker’s voice crackles over the comms. “Requesting permission to land.”

“Normandy, this is Flight. Permission granted. Dock 12. Come on home.”

Olivia swallows, hard. The lump in her throat hurts, and she bites her lip.

“You have no idea how good it is to hear that. Passing Luna now, see you groundside in eight minutes.”

“Roger that. We have cake.”

“In that case, seven minutes.”

Olivia laughs and looks back up at the sky. Soon, she sees a dark dot that grows bigger, and transforms into the Normandy’s familiar silhouette. She keeps her eyes on the ship, hardly even blinking as Joker brings them in slow and careful.

The docking clamps extend and connect, and the Normandy settles, sighs, as if even the ship herself knows that she’s home.

The airlock door opens with a hiss, and then everything else falls away. Hackett, the press, the rare sunshine, the birds, all of it.

Ashley, Joker, Sam. The rest of the crew turns into a blur as Liara walks out, blinking in the bright sunshine. Olivia gasps; though she spoke with them every day, some part of her still worried that this was a dream. But Liara’s really here, this isn’t a dream, and she isn’t in danger of waking up. Olivia walks forward with a wide smile. Her walk turns into a run to meet Liara halfway for a hug that nearly knocks both of them over.

“You’re here,” Olivia says, wrapping her arms tight around her friend.

Liara hugs her just as tightly. “So are you,” she whispers.

They stand in silence, holding each other as the rest of the crew disembarks and weaves around them. Olivia bites back tears and buries her head in Liara’s shoulder. Liara hugs her tighter, and she smiles.

After a few minutes, Liara shifts, and then gently nudges her.

Olivia looks up and inhales sharply. Leaning heavily on James and Steve, Garrus makes his slow way off the ship. He looks terrible: frail, almost skeletal, all skin and plate and bones, but he’s Garrus. He’s here and he’s alive, and Olivia starts to cry.

“Go,” Liara whispers, and presses a kiss to her cheek before she steps back.

It’s only a few meters, but Olivia runs. She stops in front of him, and looks up. His mandibles flutter, and Garrus smiles at her with sparkling blue eyes. Her breath shakes and she presses a hand to her mouth. After eight long months of hell and loneliness and uncertainty, Garrus is here, right in front of her. She reaches out and trails her fingers down his arm.

“C’mere,” he murmurs. Carefully, he steps forward, away from James and Steve, and folds his arms around her. He draws her in tight against him.

His warm arms feel like home. Letting her tears fall, Olivia brings her own arms up around him, hugging him to her. “I love you,” she whispers. She turns and rests her cheek on his chest.

Garrus kisses the top of her head. “I love you,” he says. As his subvocals rumble through his chest, she hears and feels the fear and loneliness he felt for eight months suddenly lift away. She hugs him tighter. He’s so thin, but he’s solid, real in her arms.

“Captain, we need to take him now,” one of the medics says as Garrus starts to shake. “You can ride with us, but we need to get going.”

Nodding, Olivia presses a kiss to his chest and then steps back. She wipes at her eyes and stands out of the way as the medics get him onto a stretcher and start an IV.

“Olivia,” he rasps, reaching his hand out to her.

She catches his hand. Smiling, she bends down and bumps her forehead gently against his. “I’m right behind you,” she promises.

#i promised everything would be fine!#s:words #s:me #olivia shepard: responsible coffee commander #livfic #otp:one cell in the sea #otf:minored in asskicking #s:2017

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spilled-chai · 5 years

Text

“Nueva Destina" [Inspired by Aimee Bender the Remembere] By Emmeline Fernandez

My lover is experiencing uncertainty.

There is no time to spare, no memories to halt.

“J,” I say to his slender body poured into the living room recliner, “can you come here?” he looks my way with a half-smile.

He’s grown prone to lounging. All he does is admire our California sun, hoping that in our southern wind, he will find the answer to his northern destiny.

In just two short weeks, he will be living up North, pursuing a bachelor's degree in Economics at the University of California, Berkeley.

“If one of us is uncertain, this isn’t going to work,” my voice is patient with an undertone of deceit.

“You can’t be mad at me for wanting to try.” Long distance relationships are tough, they say. Only commit to them if you are patient, they say. When I was nine years old, I had a purple teddy bear named Kevin. I named him after Fred Savage’s role in The Wonder Years. I took Kevin everywhere, even funerals. When I was 15, my grandfather passed away and as the only US Citizens, my sister and I were given the role of grief. My parents flew us to Mexico City, where we said an entire family’s goodbyes and were swiftly on our way.

We came back to the states with a sense of maturity magnified through grief, and Kevin.

Although no one was dead, I felt grief as the date for J’s admission approached. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to carry the grief of his absence. As an understanding girlfriend, I wanted to assure him everything would be okay. I didn’t realize I’d be left to reassure myself along the journey, too.

January 11th would be the day our love would die.

“How often will you come down?”

“I don’t know--every two weeks?”

“That’s excessive.”

“Once a month?”

“We’ll hardly see each other!”

“I just won’t go until I have time. How about that?”

Nearly every conversation whirled around chance. We left everything to fate by choosing to ignore our future.

I don’t want us to become the couple that finds themselves together yet interacts separately. You know, those couples that walk together into stores, one in front of the other. No hand holding or interlocking of arms. If they get a phone call they claim to be together, but in what context?

Oh yes, Jill. I’m here with Bob running errands, when Bob is two aisles down looking at what beer is on sale.

I knew we were drifting apart. But I’ve always loved love and went at every endeavor wholeheartedly. If this relationship would end, it wouldn’t be by me. I would never give up.

---

I wake to my first alarm at 5am. The soles of my feet harden as they flatten to the mold of my tiled floor. Its Saturday, which means I have work. Being that I am still in school, I’ve resorted to only working the weekends. I must admit I’ve also chosen this schedule to have more time with J.

While the thought of him leaving hurts, I can’t help but notice how being away is not clouding his mind. Whenever I bring up the conversation of what things might be like, he blows me off. “Can you stop? Let’s just enjoy the time we have.”

I figured he meant the time we have left before he goes off to the Bay. I never figured he meant the time we had left as us.

I’m not sure what day it was, and I’d like to keep it that way. All I know is the pain I felt listening to his silence on the other line. A silence that made what little I had in my stomach curdle. That soundless noise of chaotic mystery, a ringing of absence.

“Do you still want to be with me?”

…

“Do you? Don’t be a coward, do you?”

…

I smeared the phone from my right ear, down to the bottom of my cheek and waited for a sound, anything. It was two AM and there we were, talking.

I couldn't take it anymore, his silence beating my eardrum and turning my insides.

“Just say it. Just say you want to break up.”

Finally, it spoke.

“I don’t want to lose you. I’m just, I’m such a bad boyfriend.”

I heard him out. Only because I knew he was right.

The beginning of our relationship started innocently, over some coffee and college prep. He had been with one of my close friends for about five years so yes, it was innocent as I did not pursue the friendship in hopes of anything escalating. It was during conversations like this when I doubted whether I had made the right choice by ignoring my gut and following my lustful heart.

Always listen to your gut.

The next morning went on as if nothing had happened. It wasn’t until the end of the night that I even heard a smidge of an apology.

“Sorry about last night. It hasn't really been easy to adjust.”

While I was adjusting to a long-distance relationship, he was adjusting to the relationship, a new environment, school, and a new apartment. Was I being inconsiderate to his demanding change in lifestyle? Or was it just as irresponsible of him to put all feelings aside, which led to this predicament in the first place?

The fight was pegged more on my part. He was upset with how I was constantly looking for a response to my last message or simply because I was looking to receive a call at the end of the day. I understand that I was asking for more than he could give me and, in that moment, realize there had never been a smidge of compromise in our relationship. Our relationship was 90/10 and always had been. While it was clear we were over, we continued to go back and forth on who was the one to blame, exhausting every avenue and getting nowhere.

Then, the skies began to clear. We began to weed out the unnecessary verbiage of what we felt had to be said and finally began speaking our truths. That night, our love died. And with Kevin by my side, I fell into a state of grief and said my goodbyes.

Keep up with Emmeline & her work on Instagram

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lady-divine-writes · 7 years

Text

Klaine one-shot - “Cozy Little Secret” (Rated PG13)

Kurt decides to take Blaine up on an offer to move in with him, but when Kurt shows up the next morning with his bags, Blaine starts acting more than a little suspicious.

What could he be hiding? (1865 words)

So, this AU assumes that Kurt and Blaine didn't meet in high school, but when they were a little older and already in New York. I'd like to think this Blaine is more "Dalton Blaine if he didn't switch to McKinley". It is a re-write of another fic I wrote (for full disclosure).

Read on AO3.

When Blaine opens the door to his apartment and sees Kurt standing in the hallway with his suitcase, he looks like he’s just seen his mother naked …

… which is not the welcome that Kurt was expecting.

“Uh … Kurt …” Blaine’s eyes flick back and forth between Kurt’s suitcase and the smile twisting his lips. “What are you doing here?”

“Remember last night when we talked about me moving in?” Kurt pushes his way through the door, carrying not only the suitcase in his hand, but wheeling one behind him.

“Yeeeee-ah?” Blaine replies, watching helplessly as Kurt invades his home.

“Well, I know I was super reluctant at first, but then I got to thinking …” Kurt doesn’t stop in the living room like Blaine had hoped. Instead, he walks his luggage to the bedroom. Blaine rushes to follow “… I’m over here all the time anyway, as you so thoughtfully pointed out, and …”

“And I thought you were worried about personal space,” Blaine brings up, panic brewing in his chest as Kurt bypasses the bed and heads for the closet.

“Yeah, well …” Mercifully, Kurt reconsiders his path and stops by Blaine’s bed to take off his coat and unwind his scarf “… you did say that I could use your other bedroom as a studio. I think that would be sufficient enough to hide in if I need some space to myself.” Kurt opens his arms wide and sighs, a satisfied smile parting his lips. “So, here I am.”

“Here you are.” Blaine forces a chuckle, the smile on his face almost a grimace as his teeth clench tight, making his eyes bulge in his skull.

Kurt tilts his head as he shrugs off his coat the rest of the way, observing the odd behavior of his usually mellow boyfriend.

“What’s up?” Kurt’s smile disappears as the furrow in his brow deepens. “Last night you were climbing all over me to move in. Now you look like you’re stuck in the path of a runaway semi.”

“Uh …” Blaine’s eyes dart anxiously to the closet, and Kurt’s look of confusion slips into one of anger.

“I knew it!” Kurt says, reaching for his coat again. “I just … I knew it!”

“Knew what?” Blaine rushes forward and grabs for Kurt’s coat to keep him from getting it back over his shoulders. “Kurt …”

“It was all talk, wasn’t it?”

Kurt’s question is rhetorical, but Blaine answers anyway.

“No,” Blaine says, succeeding in yanking the coat from Kurt’s arms and tossing it onto the bed. “It wasn’t all talk. I just … I wish you had given me a little time to … to prepare.”

“Prepare for what?” Kurt narrows his eyes at Blaine. “Last night you made it seem like I could move in right away.”

“And you can,” Blaine says with a touch more exasperation than he intends. “I just need to do some … rearranging. That’s all.”

Kurt stares at Blaine hard, trying to unearth the reasons behind his suspicious behavior, but Blaine’s expression remains blank and, as far as Kurt can tell, honest.

He sighs.

“You’re right, Blaine. I’m sorry. After I left here last night and gave your offer some thought, I kicked myself for not jumping at it. Then, when I decided to take you up on it, I was so excited, I just packed up my things and raced over. I guess I wasn’t thinking. I should have at least called first, given you a heads up.”

Blaine’s whole body relaxes. Something about his extreme relief raises alarms in Kurt’s head, but those are overshadowed by Kurt’s feelings of guilt for barging in.

“That’s all I wanted,” Blaine says.

Kurt looks at Blaine, his face tense despite the apology, and Kurt takes it as a sign to leave.

“So, I should get my bags and go,” Kurt reasons out loud.

“No!” Blaine puts his arms around Kurt and holds him tight. “No, I want you to move in. I just need, like, fifteen minutes …” Kurt peeks up at Blaine’s face and catches him looking at the closet again. “So, why don’t you stop by that café on the corner and order us some lunch.” Blaine reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. He opens it and hands Kurt a twenty. “I’ll get things squared away here, and then we’ll get you moved in.”

Kurt looks at the bill in his hand, and then back at Blaine. Blaine is usually a better liar than this – though Blaine has only lied about little things to Kurt, things that wouldn’t make or break their relationship. Whatever this is, it has to be a doozy.

“Okay,” Kurt agrees, pocketing the money and kissing Blaine quickly on the lips, adding a condescending pat on the cheek that Blaine seems to miss or just plain overlook as he ushers Kurt back through the rooms and out of the apartment. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Take your time,” Blaine mutters, kissing the air close to Kurt’s cheek, then nearly slamming the door in his face.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck …” Blaine chants as he hurries back to his room. He goes straight to the closet and throws open the door. “I’ve got to get you guys out of here!”

In hindsight, he should have done this a long time ago. He always knew that Kurt was ‘the one’. Something inside him has always known. He should have put this behind him then and there, but every year that went by, it happened again, and Blaine couldn’t stop it. He didn’t have the power.

Part of him feels bad at the idea of shoving this away, but now isn’t the time to linger on his doubts.

Blaine pulls a folded brown cardboard box out of the closet – a relic from when he first moved to this apartment years ago – and starts constructing it. He doesn’t have time to duct tape it, so he prays the box will hold till he gets it to his storage locker in the basement. Hanger after hanger, he yanks them down until the box is full to bursting.

“Come on come on come on …” He pleads with the box whose sides are bowing, stunned that he never realized he had amassed so many. He gathers the pregnant box into his arms, not even bothering with the flaps in an effort to save time. He stumbles out into the hall, kneeing the bottom of the box when it starts to slip.

Just then, Blaine hears the front door open, and he freezes with the box in his arms.

“Sorry, Blaine,” Kurt calls from the door, “but I dropped my keys when I took off my coat …”

Kurt had been standing in the hall outside Blaine’s apartment, waiting for him to appear – or more to the point, Blaine’s mysterious whatever to appear. When five minutes had gone by and still nothing, Kurt decided for a more direct approach.

“… and I’m pretty sure they must have landed …”

Kurt stops short when he finds Blaine frozen in the hallway, crouched as if he’s preparing to run, a cardboard box collapsing in his arms and his eyes blown open wide.

This isn’t at all what Kurt had been expecting.

“Blaine?” he asks, worried more than suspicious now that he sees the state his boyfriend is in. “Are you …?”

Blaine’s eyes subconsciously dart down to the box, and Kurt’s eyes follow, stealing a glance down and up. But when he catches a glimpse of the box’s contents, he looks back and stares, his lips curling at the edges, eyes shining with delight. “

What … what are those?” Kurt wants to laugh, is dying to laugh, but Blaine is paralyzed in place like a frightened animal, and Kurt doesn’t want to risk scaring Blaine away before he’s gotten the chance to enjoy this moment.

“Th-these?” Blaine stutters, wearing a look of horror that Kurt has never before seen on his boyfriend’s face. “These are … well, these … what were we talking about?”

Kurt can’t help himself. The contents of the box are begging him to go through them and tease Blaine with them one by one.

“You have … ugly sweaters!”

“These? N-no …” Blaine stammers as Kurt starts rooting through the box of knit wear. “These aren’t mine. They’re …”

Kurt pulls one out and holds it up – the chosen victim decorated with a nativity scene, but with cats portraying the holy family instead of people, and Blaine’s name embroidered in large letters across the chest.

“They aren’t yours, huh?”

Blaine’s head drops back on his neck. He squeezes his eyes shut, begging quietly for death to take him.

“Look,” Blaine groans, “I have a confession to make.”

“Okay …” Kurt crosses his arms over his chest, still clutching the horrendous sweater, as he prepares to hear the greatest excuse of Blaine Anderson’s life. “Let’s hear it.”

“I have …”

“Yes …?”

Blaine exhales heavily and swallows hard.

“… a grandmother.”

“No!” Kurt gasps sarcastically. Blaine adjusts the box in his arms and looks away, not interested in watching Kurt make fun of him. “Blaine! I know you have a grandmother. I’ve met your grandmother! Remember?”

“That was my mom’s mom. I’m talking about my dad’s mom. You haven’t met her because my parents moved her into a home a few months before you and I started dating. She likes to knit. A lot.” Blaine looks at the sweaters in the box, frowning at one at the very top festooned with festively dressed teddy bears drinking egg nog in front of a Christmas tree. “She’s become a little senile over the past few years. She seems to think I’m still twelve-years-old.”

“Were you ever going to tell me?” Kurt asks, not offended by Blaine’s omission, simply curious.

“About my grandmother … yes,” Blaine admits.

“But not the sweaters.”

It’s not a question.

“Nope.”

“Well, too bad.” Kurt takes Blaine’s arm and leads him back to the bedroom. “You’re not getting off that easy.”

“Wh---what do you mean?” Blaine asks, catching the box before it falls to the ground.

“It means we’re not having sex again until you model every one of these sweaters for me.”

“Kurt! No!” Blaine whines.

“Yes, Blaine.” Consider it penance for making me think you were cheating on me.

Kurt takes the box from Blaine’s hands and drops it on the bed, but he tosses the cat nativity sweater back at him. Blaine catches it. He glares at the offending garment as if his eyes could light the thing on fire. Kurt clears his throat. Blaine looks at his boyfriend reclining on the bed, smiling like anything, waiting for the fashion show to begin.

“Aren’t you going to love having me as a roommate?” Kurt picks up Blaine’s remote for his audio system and switches it on. The first song on their playlist from last night – affectionately called fooling around music – bumps through the speakers.

Blaine gives the cat sweater one last scowl, and says, “Whose idea was it for you to move in again?”

***

Notes:

Also, just so you know, I feel this Blaine is sort of OOC since I think that he would wholly embrace having a collection of ugly sweaters knitted for him by his grandmother, but I thought this was funny. xD

#klaine fanfiction #klaine fic #klaine #frankie writes

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