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onthepyre · 4 years

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cats

the second part of this is basically what i did last night but connor is a lot braver than me. anyway.

Evan does this at least once a week.

He gets home, and for whatever reason, whether it be the smile Connor gave him during lunch that lasted a bit too long or that romantic-looking restaurant he walked by on the way home, he's feeling sappy. And he walks straight to his room, lays down on the floor, and listens to Cavetown.

The amount of time Evan spends on the floor is directly proportional to how many times he caught Connor looking at him during science class. Sometimes he counts; the record so far is 23 times in one class period. He spent two hours on the floor that day, staring at the ceiling.

As soon as he's home, he's settled on his carpet with the soft sounds of a guitar playing in his headphones. It's peaceful, quiet. There are only a few things that Evan thinks about, and number one on his list is how much better it would be if Connor was here.

His heart talks about Connor a lot. His mind objects, but Evan's heart seems to beat with his name. Connor Murphy Connor Murphy Connor Murphy. Evan never gets tired of it. His heart talks about Connor's hair, his eyes, his smile, his hands-

Don't get him started on Connor's hands.

Evan has watched Connor draw before. The style of his art matches him well. It's sharp, fast, messy, perfect. But when he's drawing, Evan watches Connor's hands rather than the piece.

They're fluid. They glide.

Connor Murphy does not glide. He stomps, he runs, he marches, but he does not glide. But when he's drawing, his hands float. They look the same, as angular as Connor himself, but they're different. Softer. Evan figures Connor's face is the same, but he's always been too focused to look.

Evan often considers what Connor's hands feel like. They look strong, but Evan is certain they're lighter than they seem. He wonders what it would be like to hold Connor's hand. Is he one of those people that would hang on too tight? Would he barely touch Evan's hand? Would he be grossed out by Evan's sweaty palms?

Evan also, more tentatively, thinks about Connor's hands on his face. In his hair. Looped around his waist. These thoughts, of course, are more focused on where Connor's mouth would be at the moment, but there is attention to his hands then, too.

And Connor's mouth. Of course. His lips are always chapped and often bleeding because Connor picks at them when he gets bored and Evan knows this because he stares at Connor during French class and he knows Connor hates French. Connor bites his lips a lot, too. It isn't meant to be nearly as swoon-worthy as it makes Evan feel, but it nearly breaks him every time Connor chews on his lip. Evan's fairly certain this is something he does when he's bored, too, although it might be a nervous habit.

Connor has a lot of nervous habits, from what Evan's seen. He spins his pen, taps his foot, braids little strands of his hair — the list goes on. Evan knows each and every one of them.

——

Connor has his own sort of ritual. After begging Zoe to stop at Tim Hortons so they could get coffee, he sits at the window in the den and watches Law & Order SVU. He had never seen it until Zoe showed him the John Mulaney bit about Ice-T and now he's addicted. It's a problem.

Unbeknownst to either, Connor's SVU marathons are the equivalent of Evan's Cavetown sessions. Evan thinks about Connor and Connor thinks about Ice-T. And Evan. Mostly Evan.

Connor has a thing for the way Evan talks. He knows that Evan himself hates it and most of the school thinks he's annoying, but Connor thinks it's adorable.

Evan has to say exactly what he wants to say, and if he messes it up, he will start over. He messes up a lot. It doesn't help that sometimes his tongue catches on words and he gets stuck on a certain sound and has to go back to the beginning of the sentence. It takes active listening to understand what he's saying but it makes Connor melt.

That's the thing that makes Connor think so hard. He's supposed to be the mopey badass, the scary emo, the aloof rebel-without-a-cause. He has a reputation to uphold, even if it's less punk and more school shooter (okay, less punk and more sad). He may be openly bisexual, yes, but he shouldn't be falling for a tiny tree-obsessed nerd.

And the fact that Evan of all people is the one his heart decided on is, well, bad. Connor's too worried that Evan isn't into him to do anything other than stare and Evan can't take a fucking hint. Connor may think his cluelessness is cute, but it's also really inconvenient. Connor thinks a lot of things about Evan are cute but inconvenient.

Evan is really, really good at accidentally blocking people's paths and then moving out of the way at the same time the other person does, thus blocking them again. Evan hates it and Connor thinks it's funny. If it goes on for long enough, Evan starts blushing, and Connor starts falling apart.

And oh my god, when Evan blushes. It's not like it's uncommon, Evan is both awkward and incredibly aware of it, but Connor still thinks it's adorable. It brings out his freckles and colors the tops of his ears pink. If Evan is especially embarrassed, he'll try to hide in his hands, but his fingertips are always tinged with the same rose-colored mortification.

Connor's thoughts drift as he pulls out his phone and scrolls through instagram, but Evan is still there in the back of his mind. He's always there, no matter what Connor is doing. He spots Evan in the shadows created by the trees in the backyard; sees Evan's worried smile on his mother's face; catches himself doodling Evan's silhouette in the background of drawings. Evan, Evan, Evan.

Connor's phone buzzes in his hand as he scrolls past a collection of Bee Movie memes. He opens the message, noting it's from Evan.

hhey

He's still typing, but Connor replies anyway.

whats up

The typing bubble disappears for a moment, then pops back up

what r u duing

Connor takes a moment to grin at the misspelling before he responds.

watching svu

do u eanna come see cats with ne

uhh?? no but absolutely yes im coming, what time

theres a show jn half an hour

cool see you then

Connor tucks his phone into his pocket and pulls his hands through his hair. He's going on a date. With Evan. But it's not a date, his mind says. Connor ignores it.

He's out the door in no time, stopping only to grab a half-eaten bag of twix and shove it in the pocket of his hoodie.

——

Evan arrives at the theater before Connor does, and sits down next to a claw machine after buying his ticket. He thinks about texting Connor, but his energy for starting conversations is nearly gone — he barely stuttered his way through asking for a medium popcorn, so he's decided to recharge for a bit while he waits for Connor.

Connor bursts through the door a few minutes later, then stops to look around. He breaks into a smile when he spots Evan, who lifts his hand in a tired wave. Evan watches Connor talk to the woman at the ticket booth, then the man at the concession stand. He approaches Evan with a bag of Sprees in his hand.

"Hey," he says.

"Hi."

"I know Sprees are the worst, but they're the only food that seems to last past the previews, so." Evan nods, trying to hide the already partially eaten bag of popcorn sitting next to him. "Well, shall we?" Connor reaches down to pull Evan up from the bench. Evan smiles as thanks, but Connor doesn't let go of his hand. His mind moves at the speed of light, even though there are only two thoughts in his head: Connor Connor Connor and hand.

Connor holds onto him all the way to the screening room, where he tugs Evan into the back row. He drops Evan's hand as they sit. Connor drops the Sprees into the cupholder on his left and pulls out the Twix, which he starts inhaling immediately.

When the movie starts, there's only one other person in the room: an old man in the front row, who Connor insists is Andrew Lloyd Webber himself, and it's not an issue if they talk because Webber started this whole fiasco and deserves to hear their "critiques."

The moment the first cat appears on the screen, Connor is laughing. "Why does she have boobs?" he whispers.

"Connor!"

"If they're going to give her boobs, she should have six, not two."

"Connor, talk quieter!"

"Are we supposed to be attracted to the cats?"

Defeated, Evan drops his face into his hands while Connor cackles next to him.

They make it to Rum-Tum-Tugger without any other mishaps, but as soon as the new cat starts singing, Connor loses it again.

"Why is he wearing a fur coat? That's terrifying!"

"What?"

"You'd be scared if you saw someone wearing a coat made of skin." Evan looks over at him with a desperate expression on his face.

"Connor, please," he begs, "let's just… let's appreciate cat Jason Derulo."

Connor nods, still wheezing, and calms down a bit. Until cat Jason Derulo whips off his fur coat in a display of his cat muscles.

Connor drops his head onto Evan's shoulder. "I can't do this," he says through a fit of giggles.

But Evan is more focused on the fact that Connor's head is on his shoulder oh my god. And Evan hears Connor's foot tap, tap, tapping on the floor. Nervous habit. And once again, Connor's hand finds his.

"Gotta ground myself. Make sure we're not dead, y'know." So Evan, with as much bravery as he can muster, squeezes Connor's hand. And Connor squeezes back.

But Connor doesn't move. He stays there, his head on Evan's shoulder, his hand in Evan's hand. And Evan can't focus on the movie anymore. He eventually picks his head up to laugh at Mr. Mistoffelees, but Connor hangs onto Evan's hand for the rest of the movie. He's soft, softer than Evan expected, and evidently doesn't mind his sweaty palms, so Evan doesn't complain.

As the credits roll, Evan gathers the bits of courage he has left and look over at Connor. "Is, uh, was this, like a date? Or did I, um, completely misinterpret what's- did I misunderstand this? B-because-"

Connor cuts him off. "Do you want this to be a date?" He's quiet, much quieter than normal.

Evan's voice is even smaller when he answers. "Um. Yeah." He stares down at his free hand, trying to avoid the one Connor still has a firm grip on.

"Great. Then it was a date." Evan can hear the smile in Connor's voice. He looks up, and Connor is beaming, and Evan can hear his foot tapping the floor again. And Connor's hand is on his jaw and Evan is leaning forward and their lips are pressed together.

It's different than Evan had imagined. Slower. Gentler. But he's kissing Connor Murphy and Connor Murphy is kissing him back.

Evan is the first to pull away. He knows his face is a bright shade of pink, but he doesn't really care. His phone buzzes in his pocket.

"Oh, uh, my mom's here." He thinks he sees Connor's face fall for half a second, but he isn't sure.

"Oh. Alright. See you soon."

Evan leans over and pecks his cheek. "Thanks."

#treebros #deh #dear evan hansen #evan hansen #connor murphy #connor x evan #pining evan #pining connor #just a lot of pining #cats #lowkey just me projecting but its fine #kissing #holding hands #kinda sappy #june's writing

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honeymoonjin · 5 years

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enjoy your stay - chapter eight

A/N - Just for now, I’m trialing not putting in chapter links on this post to see if it helps more people see it since the tumblr search function cuts out posts with links. If there’s not a big difference, I’ll put them in later, but to see the first chapter if you’re a new reader, please click on my blog and check out my masterlist.

ENJOY YOUR STAY ↳Boss!Namjoon, Chef!Jin, Receptionist!Hoseok, Bellboy!Jimin, Bartender!Jungkook, Accountant!Yoongi, Photography student!Taehyung ↳Some inappropriate language and cursing. Later chapters have sexual content.

SUMMARY ↳Working the graveyard shift at a hotel isn’t the most exciting job in the world, but your coworkers are certainly happy to have you here.

CHAPTER EIGHT ↳Your delightful encounter ends up leaving a bitter taste in your mouth when Jimin doesn’t respond the way you’d hoped. But perhaps a new source of comfort is around the corner.

Maybe it was too much to ask for you to just have one good day. It felt like after every good thing, there was a disaster around the corner just waiting to happen so that you didn’t get too happy.

In this case, it was your car breaking down on the side of the road ten minutes outside of town after you and Jimin fucked in a scummy bathroom like animals.

He was remarkably calm and collected about the whole ordeal as the two of you hung out in a ditch with smoke billowing from your hood, but maybe it was because he just had the soul sucked out of him less than half an hour ago.

You, on the other hand, had long left behind the post-orgasm bliss and were desperately holding back angry tears as your car was towed away, and a taxi was called out to take the two of you home.

The mechanics told you it would cost a small fortune to fix your shitty vehicle, but you had no other choice. You lived far enough from your workplace that walking or cycling wasn’t really an option, and you were too proud to take the bus. Besides, you had Jungkook to worry about too.

It only took a couple of hours to fix, but it took more out of your savings account than was put in from working every day for the past two months. If you were a more stubborn woman, perhaps you’d scowl and mutter about it practically being highway robbery, but instead you found yourself in the lobby of the local accounting firm, asking if you could have an appointment with Mr. Min Yoongi.

It was foolish of you to invite a freeloader into your home, acting like you were an upper middle-class diva when really you had just enough cushioning to feel a little secure.

Now, with your car using up more money than you had, you realized just how sad your finances were looking. You couldn’t even afford to hire an accountant, but you didn’t know where else to go. At least he could give you some advice, or something like that.

“What a delightful surprise,” he drawled when you were led into his fancy-schmancy corner office, “to what do I owe the honor?”

“It’s nothing to do with work. I just need some personal help with my finances.”

He adjusted the glasses on the bridge of his nose and steepled his fingers together. “Hmm. I find that being an accountant is much like being a doctor or a dentist. People only come to me when something’s gone wrong.”

“You’d be correct. Only problem is, I don’t have enough money to even hire you to help. I was just hoping maybe you could give me some advice.” You cleared your throat and avoided his gaze. “Hoseok told me about you two. I don’t suppose you’re interested in taking on another…client?”

He narrowed his eyes at you as your gaze burned a hole in the carpet. “Are you propositioning me in my place of work?”

“…Mhm.”

“Tell you what,” he declares, “I’ll take you on as a pro-bono client as long as you promise to never fucking do that again.” His tone is deadpan but luckily not angry or insulted.

“Got it, chief.”

“Don’t do that, either.”

“Uh- Thank you, sir?”

He nods thoughtfully. “That’ll do. Anyway, pro-bonos look pretty great on the CV apparently, and I’ve always been too much of a cold-hearted asshole to do them before, so, it’ll work out for the both of us.” He unlinks his hands and scribbles a post-it note, tucking it away in a thick leather-bound planner. He sighs. “And please ask Hoseok not to speak of his sexual relations with me.”

You pause. “Is that another condition for you helping me?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Then, with all due respect sir, not a fucking chance.”

He twiddles the pen in his hands and stares down at it in resignation. “Got it, chief.”

“Did he look hot?”

“That’s a pretty redundant question, Hobi.” “Fair. Continue.”

“Anyway, I really feel like him and I are vibing, you know? We had a little back-and-forth, we gave each other cute nicknames, he told me I warmed up his cold, dead heart…”

“I’ve been wrist deep in him, Y/n, so I’d say I know him pretty well, and there’s no fucking way he said that.”

“Maybe not in those words exactly,” you concede, chucking your empty paper cup in the trash can at his feet.

Work was a little slow today, so you had gotten permission from Namjoon to ‘help Hoseok tidy up his work space’, which just meant you and him chilling out behind the desk for an hour, chatting about whatever.

“Anyway, where’s Jimin?”

Hobi shrugs. “He went home early. Probably caught his dick in the vending machine again or something stupid like that.”

You grin. “That’s a shame, it was perfectly functional last time I checked.”

“Well, you know Jimin, al- Wait! What?” Hoseok’s eyes are comically wide, and he’s staring at you like you’ve given him a million dollars. “I cannot believe you let me sit here, discussing my sugar daddy for an hour before letting me know that! You little minx, tell me all about it!”

After spending another twenty minutes explaining the precise physics of your sexual encounter, Hobi finally let you leave to go do rounds again, but before you went back to Namjoon’s office, you tucked yourself away in the storage closet to make a phone call.

He picks up after the first ring. “Hey, baby,” his husky voice answers, and you just about melt right then and there.

“Jimin, how come you didn’t come to work today? I was looking forward to seeing you again.”

He grunts, and you frown at the muffled noises coming through the receiver. “I knew that if I saw you, I wouldn’t be able to control myself.” He lets out a dreamy sigh. “I can’t even control myself now,” he murmurs.

“What do you-” You hear a wet smacking sound repeating rhythmically, and Jimin grunts again. “Are you seriously jerking off right now?”

He laughs breathily, but it catches on a moan. “Yeah, baby, when I came to work, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I got hard right in the middle of the lobby.”

You frown. “Well, can you please…stop for now? I wanted to talk to you.”

Another whine. “We are talking.”

His breath is coming out in little pants and whimpers, and as hot as the sound is, you feel yourself getting frustrated, and not in the good way. “Seriously, Jimin, I’m trying to have a proper conversation here. I was going to ask you out to dinner, or breakfast, or whatever. I thought we should get to know each other better.”

He doesn’t respond, choosing instead to whisper sweet nothings like ‘fuck, baby’ and ‘feels so good’ over and over into the phone.

You think back to the last time you were in this closet, having a very different phone call. How Jin respected you so much that he wouldn’t even go out with you because he didn’t want you to end up disappointed. How he would forgo his own happiness to make sure you didn’t make a mistake in dating him.

And here was Jimin, jerking off like a teenager, completely uninterested in you asking him out.

You squeeze your eyes shut and rest your forehead against a shelf. “Jimin,” you whisper, unsure if he can even hear you as he gets louder and louder, “Jimin, this isn’t what I wanted. If all you want is sex, I’m not going to take part in whatever this is anymore. I don’t need a fuck buddy, I need a boyfriend. I need someone who understands me. I think you and I have misunderstood each other. I’m sorry.”

Somewhere in the middle of your monologue, he thankfully stopped, and the other end of the line was silent, except for the sound of him still breathing hard. “Baby,” he started eventually, “we haven’t misunderstood each other. I really like you. The way you sucked me off yesterday, god, it was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen! Give me a chance.”

“No,” you reply softly, but your tone is final. “I’ll leave you to your jacking off.”

“Baby, just-” He’s cut off as you hang up.

Surprisingly, the whole encounter with Jimin has resolved a lot of bitterness with Jin. You could understand him now, not wanting to get involved with someone who expects something you just aren’t the right person to give.

It’s that sense of closure, like you made the right decision with Jimin, and that Jin had made a good call with you, that leaves you quite content as you speed through the rest of the shift.

Jungkook excitedly whips out his laptop when you pop into the bar, showing you an online course he found that would let him study game development specifically, rather than the generalized computer programming degree. He runs you through all the different topics, aware that you had no idea what they were but perfectly happy to spend forever explaining each one in excruciating detail and then thanked you profusely for letting him live with you.

When you had returned home yesterday after the whole broken-down car fiasco, you were genuinely shocked to see your apartment still in one piece. In fact, in the time he had to himself, he had set up his room with a desk and a little bookshelf he had found at the secondhand store. He was really making the place his own, and it made you feel like a protective mother hen to see the boy so happy.

He was just as pumped today and made sure to let you know how grateful he was. Jungkook had a completely different energy about him when he was doing something he actually enjoyed.

It was only twenty minutes away from the end of your shift when Hoseok called Namjoon’s office, saying there had been a noise complaint filed against the room that Taehyung was in. Namjoon, who was steeped in paperwork and reporting, asked you to handle it, saying that sometimes Taehyung could blast music a little too loud, but he’d turn it down if you told him to. He even threw in the exclusive offer that if you went and dealt with it, you could go home early afterwards. Of course, you’d have to wait around for Jungkook to get off, but finishing early was finishing early, so you gratefully accepted.

As you made your way to the hallway of rooms, you wondered what type of music Tae liked to blast. Did he wallow in self-pity to mopey 60s music like a tortured artist, or did he know all the dance moves to the latest k-pop hits?

But the closer you got, you realized there was no music at all. The hallway was completely silent. You knocked lightly on his door, but received no response.

If it wasn’t for the fact that you really wanted to get this sorted for good and go off duty a little early, you probably would’ve walked away.

As it was, you decided to whip out your master keycard and let yourself in. It was only once you got past the threshold that you heard any noise at all.

Certainly not loud enough to warrant a noise complaint since you couldn’t even hear it yourself directly outside the door, but it was there. The second you heard it, your heart dropped into your stomach, and your gaze immediately flicked over to the far side of the room where the sounds originated.

Jimin and Tae were entwined with each other, Jimin in Tae’s arms against the wall in a cruel mockery of the time you spent with him just the day before. Taehyung hadn’t heard you come in over the sound of Jimin moaning, but since the bellboy was conveniently facing the door, he glanced up over Tae’s sweaty shoulder when you came in and grinned at you.

The room tilted a little as your vision swam with the tears that quickly built up. He really couldn’t give a shit, could he? The moment you told him you weren’t interested in sex, he went out and found somebody else.

In any other circumstance, the scene playing out would’ve been completely pornographic. Jimin, hair sticking to his forehead, stared you deep in the eyes with a sultry smugness, jerking at each devastating thrust from the man below him.

Later, when you had cried all the tears you had to give, you would be thankful that at least Namjoon asked you to go instead of walking in on his little brother and the bellboy himself. But for now, you felt stupid and ashamed and used, and it must have been some masochistic streak that caused you to stand there for what was at least a full minute, never glancing away from Jimin’s mocking gaze as he muttered sweet things into Tae’s ear and breathed in little whimpers that were harmonizing sinfully with Taehyung’s deeper grunts and groans.

You tore your eyes away once as the two men began to come undone, bolting into the hallway and slamming the door behind you.

As valiantly as you tried to remain composed until you reached the staff carpark, hot tears spattered against your cheeks as you all but ran down the hallway. Clearly there was no real noise complaint. Clearly Park Jimin knew exactly what the fuck he was doing when he got you to come to Tae’s apartment in the middle of their tryst. You always saw Jimin as a little petty but there was really no reason for him to be this cruel.

What was it you said that caused him to be this way? He was just proving the reason you called quits on whatever it was the two of you had. You were right, really; there was no way he was boyfriend material if this was how he responded to rejection.

Perhaps the worst part of this is that you couldn’t even tell anyone about it. While workplace romance wasn’t illegal, fucking your way around the hotel staff was certainly frowned upon and was sure to bring an awkward light to the night shift. There was no way you were explaining to Namjoon the situation you found his sibling in, and you had no way of knowing whether Hobi would take your side or his.

As you bawled your eyes out in anger and frustration, you weren’t keeping track of the time at all, and you just about jumped out of your skin when the passenger door opened.

“Alrightey, let’s g- Oh my god, what happened to you?”

You shook your head mutely at the boy who sat himself in the seat beside you.

“Are you alright? Do you need me to drive?”

You sniff. “Do you have your license?”

“N- No.”

“Then no.” You clear your throat a couple times and pat your red cheeks a little to sober yourself before making the awkward drive home.

Jungkook had the good graces not to ask questions in the car, or once you got home and collapsed onto the couch to resume sobbing, but by the time midday rolled around and you still hadn’t moved a muscle except to wipe your dribbling nose, he brought you a block of chocolate and sat on the couch next to you. “Please, noona, tell me something so I can help you, I hate seeing you like this.”

You chow through a row or two of comforting confectionery before you answer. “Boy troubles,” you mumble. “Not much you can do about it.”

He tucks one leg under the other so he can face you fully on the couch. “Maybe it would help to just vent. Get it all out there.”

You raise your eyebrows, but he just blinks at you with his wide eyes, completely serious. “Fine. I had sex with a guy, told him I wasn’t interested in sex if it meant nothing to him, and then he got mad and fucked somebody else as revenge. He even set me up so that I walked in on the act. Sick son of a bitch.”

“What? Isn’t revenge porn illegal? I read that somewhere,” he stated.

“It is illegal, but this wasn’t technically revenge porn, it was…revenge sex. I don’t know. I just feel so shitty that he would do something like that. And then I feel shitty for feeling shitty because I shouldn’t care about him anyway since I was the one that ended things, right?”

“I had this one girlfriend,” Jungkook mused, “who would follow me around everywhere, always wanted to have sex, always wanted to make out. And so, I did. But then she told me she’d rather not bother with the making out and just go straight to sex all the time.” He broke off, eyes distant, and shook his head slowly at the memory.

You frown. “How is this supposed to help me?”

“Oh, I guess it probably doesn’t, but I just wanted you to know I’ve had a girlfriend before, and I’ve had sex before, like, multiple times, so I get what you’re going through.”

You open your mouth to retort, but then realize you have no idea what the fuck to say to that. Your mouth closes again.

“Anyway, when we finally broke up, I was super devastated. But after a while I realized that even if I had done whatever she wanted, I wouldn’t be happy. And it was kind of better to be sad knowing that I made the right decision, than be sad and not do anything about it, you know?”

You tilt your head in confusion. “Your grand thesis is that if I’m going to be miserable either way, I might as well be miserable on the moral high ground?”

He swallows and pouts a little. “Well, you’ve been having this conversation with me for the past five minutes and you’ve already stopped crying. You can’t be sad if you’re too distracted to think about your problems.”

“Your logic is very poorly constructed, but I think I see your point.”

He smiles at you, then, and leans in a little to rest his hand on yours. “If you want, I can distract you, noona.”

TAGLIST (if you wish to be added, send a message or an ask.)

@xxqueenwxtchxx

@fandomarchive00

@cvbachacbitch

@echimozart

#bts au #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts scenario #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x taehyung #jungkook x reader #jeongguk x reader #enjoy your stay

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ruserious-hi · 5 years

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Chapter V

Summary: You’re entire life you had felt that you were special, like you were mean’t for something greater. You weren’t ordinary. You had a mother, friends. You were even at the top of your class. It wasn’t until your eighteenth birthday that you discovered you were right all along and yet wrong in so many ways.

A/N:

Although it was early in the morning, you couldn’t sit still as the doctor began sawing off your cast. Your tiredness had quickly faded as the excitement of finally being able to train since your wrist and ribs had healed sooner than the doctor expected.

The moment your cast came off and the doctor went through the spiel of physical therapy you had to do you ran back across from the medical wing to the main dormitory facility. When you got there, you found Sam sifting through the cabinets looking for who knows what. With a flick of your wrist, you shut the cabinet causing him to turn around in shock.

“Notice anything different?” you asked with a slight smirk on your face.

“Yeah. Someone ate the last bit of fruit loops and didn’t replace them. Was it you?” Sam retorted while crossing his arms and leaning against the counter.

You shook your head and rolled your eyes.

“No bird brain, do you notice anything different about me?” you said spinning around.

While you were spinning, Peter yawned as he walked into the room dressed in his Thor pajamas and looked right at your arm. His eyes lit up.

“It’s off?!?” exclaimed Peter. You nodded and he rushed over to you. With a nod of approval from you, he wrapped you in a hug. “Y/N, I’m so happy for you.”

“I think this calls for a celebration,” said Sam jumping away from the counter, forgetting all about his fruit loop fiasco. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. initiate SALMON protocol.”

“What’s salmon-”

Just as you were about to ask what SALMON was Party Up by DMX started blaring out of the speakers, rave lights began flashing, and confetti shot out from every direction. At that point, Sam grabbed your hand and started bopping up and down. Peter joined in and started running around and wooing.

Eventually, everyone else, curious to what the commotion was so early in the morning, ambled into the kitchen. First, it was Wanda and Vision. After congratulating you, Wanda tried to teach Vision how to dance to the music. It wasn’t going so well. Then Nat snuck in and started showing you some new moves. Steve, after attempting to scold Sam who was too distracted by chasing Peter to listen, retreated to the corner of the room where Bucky stood with a neutral expression as he took in the pandemonium of the moment.

Peter, in an attempt to escape Sam, was literally hanging from the ceiling.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. terminate SALMON protocol.”

The music stopped and the lights turned on which led to everyone freezing in their spot to find a stone-faced Tony.

“Sam how many times do I have to tell you not to initiate, you know what, unless it is for a special occasion.”

“It is a special occasion,” he retorted. “Y/N over here has a clean bill of health.”

Everyone wooed and patted you on your back. You couldn’t help but smile.

“I’ll allow it. Clean this up Wilson and Y/N,” he said. “I need to check to confirm with the doctor. Then you and I need to have a little chat.”

After your nod of agreement, Tony spun around and left the room with a trace of a smile on his face.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. you know what to do,” Sam exclaimed.

And everyone began celebrating again.

As you let the joy of the moment vibrating throughout the room flow through your veins, for just a few minutes the pain and suffering that weighed heavily on your heart was lifted. It was just you and a bunch of bad-ass heroes dancing your hearts out.

While everyone went to train after your early morning celebration, you found yourself sitting on your bed doodling in a notebook Steve had given you.

That’s when you felt a vibration at your door. It was from Tony. With a flick of your wrist, you swung open the door.

“Hey, Tony.”

“Hey, Sparky.” Entering the room, Tony closed the door and sat at the foot of your bed. “I’ve got good news and bad-ish news. Which do you want first?”

You pondered for a minute. While looking at Tony, you could tell something was weighing heavily on him. “Bad.”

“Good choice,” he sighed. “Well, you healed much faster than the doctor expected.”

“This is bad news?” you questioned.

“Well, I did say bad-ish. We, the doctor and I, think there might be something in your blood. Like Cap and Bucky.”

You were confused, “What’s in their blood?”

“Well Steve got his powers through a serum my Dad was involved in creating. It takes all human abilities and turns it up to the max,” he explained. “We think you might have some variation, of course not the exact thing, because that was all destroyed in the 40s.”

“Then how did Bucky get all those same powers,” you questioned.

“HYDRA,” he said shortly before coughing and diverting the conversation away from Bucky. “Anyway. Our current theory is that HYDRA was dampening this power, which is why you didn’t heal immediately, so we want to run a few tests on your blood to see what’s in it and also to keep a close eye on you to see if anything else manifests.”

“Okay.”

“Are you sure? If you don’t want to know, you don’t have to. It’s up to you.”

“It’s okay. I want to know everything. And if part of that means finding what’s running through my blood and the full extent of what HYDRA did to me. I’m ready.”

Grabbing Tony’s hand, you sent a feeling of reassurance to Tony.

“Alright,” popping up off your bed, he pointed at your feet. “Then throw some shoes on. We’re going on a field trip.”

As you sat on the chair with a U.V. sticking out pulling the blood trickle out of your body, you asked Tony who was standing across from you with his arms crossed, “So what was the good news?”

“Oh, right,” adjusting the sleeves of his shirt. “Training. You’ve been sitting around locked in your room for most of the few weeks you’ve been here and I haven’t said anything because you were injured, but that’s no longer an excuse. Nat has been bugging me about training you to fight. Something about your magic fingers not being enough to protect yourself and ya da ya - but I agree. I think it would be good for you. What do you think?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I think it would be cool. I always wanted to learn karate, but I was always so busy with school and my mom never took me when I was little so it was just one of those things always in the back of my mind, like learning to do a backflip.”

Tony raised an eyebrow looking out the window, “Well, I can tell you now. Nat teaching you to fight will be tough. If you didn’t have such a fast rate of healing, I would say get ready for puking and bruises. And I am sure your pal Mr. Parker can teach you to do a back-flip he does it all the time.”

Finally, the doctor pulled the U.V. out of your arm and gave you an Elmo bandaid.

“The tests should be back in an hour or so. Tony, I’ll have F.R.I.D.A.Y. send you the results as soon as I get them.”

“Thanks, doc,” you followed Tony out of the room.

“What now?” you asked.

“We wait,” he said as he strode down the hall, you tailing behind him. “But first I want to show you my lab.”

“Cool.”

You felt like you were walking forever. For a place full of maybe the highest tech in America, it was strange that it took so long to get to-. Wait. Something wasn’t right.

You paused, but Tony kept marching forward. Looking at each of the doors, you tried to trace this unknown vibration that set off an alarm in your mind. Your heart rate picked up. It wasn’t coming from next to you, but above you? But this was the top floor...

“Hey Tony?” whirling around, he finally noticed that you stopped following him. Hesitantly, you continued, “I - I think there is someone in your vents.”

Tony rolled his eyes, “F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark.”

“Smoke him.”

“As you wish, Mr. Stark.”

That’s when gas started pouring out of the vents. Coughing and stepping to the side, a figure came crashing out of one of the openings in the ceiling and landed perfectly in front of Tony.

“Damn it, Wanda,” the figure said. “I thought we went over not snitching on me.”

“It wasn’t Wanda,” Tony said pointing at you.

As the smoke began to fade giving a clearer image, you saw an older man with short blonde hair. He looked at you with confusion.

“Who’s this?” he loudly whispered to Tony.

Walking back up to Tony, you replied for him, “Y/N Y/LN. And you are?”

“Clint... and why are you here?”

“Because I am. Why are you here?”

Tony looked from you to Clint reveling in the weirdness of this interaction, “Yeah. I would like to know that too. Why are you in my vents - Clint? I thought when you retired we’d be free of you.”

“Uh what? Why am I being interrogated? And no one told you about me? This just isn’t right,” he argued to two amused people completely unfazed by his little rant. “Ok. Fine. I left something in your lab BEFORE I retired that I really need and I knew if I told you guys I was coming to pick it up you would do something extravagant for your favorite pal Hawkeye, so I figured I’d sneak in grab it and get out.”

“Bold of you to assume we’d be that excited about your presence,” Tony fired back.

With his hand held to his chest in defense, Clint reacted, “I leave for two seconds and you’ve already forgotten and replaced me.”

Tony patted him in the shoulder as all three of you proceeded to the lab, “You know I’m just messing with you pal. Good to see you, man. How’s the wife and kids?”

“Pretty good. Laura has been keeping me busy and the kids have been doing well in school,” he responded then turned to you. “Did they really not tell you about me?”

“Yup.”

“I’m going to have to have a chat with Nat. What about Banner and Thor? Did they say anything about them?”

You shook your head.

“That makes me feel, slightly better. So what brings you here to Avengerville Y/N Y/LN?” Clint asked as Tony placed his hand on a portion of the wall. Tony stopped to signal Clint to stop asking questions.

Glancing at Tony, you told him it was okay as you all walked into the lab.

“Kidnapped by H.Y.D.R.A., saved by the Avengers, and had nowhere else to go.”

Clint looked at Tony, “So you adopted another one?”

Tony was moving some parts around on a large metal table, “You know I can’t help myself, Clint.”

Clint laughed, “Alright, well it was nice meeting you Y/N. Welcome to the Avengers. Now I better go see at least Nat or else she’ll be pissed I visited and didn’t say hi.”

Clint then quietly walked out of the room as you waved goodbye. “That guy is weird.”You noted to Tony.

“We’re all a little weird,” observed Tony as he sat down on a metal stool. “Come here. I want to show you something.”

Sitting next to him, he waved his arms and a computer screen projected into the air. On the display was your picture from the day the Avengers rescued. You looked so different than you did today. Your skin looked suctioned to your face that was smudged with dirt and a faint purplish bruising. But what you noticed the most was how sad you looked and it reminded you how sad and lost you felt then. I feeling you didn’t want to remember. You couldn’t look at it too long, so you started looking at other parts of the screen.

“As you can tell we don’t have much,” Tony interrupted. “Still nothing on your Mom, but the team has been looking into some known HYDRA facilities that we hope might be able to extract information about your mom and or you.”

Your mom. You hadn’t thought about her in a while. Did she miss you? Was she looking for you? Was she still alive?

“Why are you spending so much time on me?” you wondered out loud, your eyes glued to the floor. “Don’t you have the world to save? I mean. I’m just one person and you don't even really know me...”

Tony looked at you with a concerned expression as if you just insulted him.

“You’re not just one person. You’re Y/N Y/LN. And we might have just happened upon you in that HYDRA facility, but as soon as Barnes rescued you, you became our responsibility. But more importantly you became a part of our family and that means we take care of each other.”

“And I am sure everyone else would say the same thing.”

“Mr. Stark. The doctor has sent the report. It appears your theory was correct. Miss Y/LN has traces of the serum found in Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes.”

“Thank you, F.R.I.D.A.Y.” glancing at you Tony stated, “Well, that’s one mystery solved.”

“I got to get some work done here. I’ll let Nat know she can start whipping you into shape tomorrow. Go rest up, kiddo. You’ll be out kicking ass in no time and we’ll be right beside you.”

Taking that as your cue to leave, you commented before you left the room, “Thanks, Tony. And in case no one has told you lately, you’re kind of the best person ever.”

Tony smirked and waved you off, “I know. Now go play with Peter or something!”

“For someone with super serum running through you’re blood you sure are slow,” Nat commented as you sat leaning against the wall chugging water and dripping in sweat.

After getting cleared for training yesterday, Nat decided to dive right into a mile run. It didn’t help that the effects of the serum dampener HYDRA had used on you still hadn’t taken full effect yet.

“Hey,” you said between labored breaths. “I went. From no movement. To a mile. And my body. Is not liking that.”

Standing up you started stretching and flailing around to loosen up. Everyone else, with the exception of Bucky and Cap who were sparring at the opposite side of the training facility, had already finished their training earlier.

“I’ll let you pull that card now, Y/N,” Nat replied. “But next week I’m not taking any excuses.”

“Tony was right,” you said while stretching. “You are tough.”

Nat’s only reaction was a raised eyebrow, but you could feel her heart warming at that compliment.

“Enough chit chat,” Nat declared. “It’s time to learn to fight.”

Jumping up and down, you started swinging your arms back and forth making a whooshing noise as you followed Nat to the sparring mats, you said confidently, “Okay. I’m ready.”

Lining up across from Nat, she stated, “Come at me.”

You looked at the five-foot-seven assassin. Oh god. What did you get yourself into? You tried to think of how to approach this. Should you go straight at her? Walk around? Throw a punch?

Fuck it. You were just going to go for it and hope for the best.

With a deep breath, you charged forward.

And the weirdest thing happened. The moment you charged forward everything clicked. You no longer saw Nat. Instead, you saw an enemy. Someone who you needed to take out. In a swift motion, you dodged the enemy’s first attack. That was all you needed to take them out. Crashing into the enemy’s exposed waistline, you lunged forward flipping yourself around the attacker causing them to lose their balance. Using the momentum from the forward roll, you swept them off their feet. This was your chance to secure them. In one quick motion, you landed heavy on their trapped body using your legs to secure them to the ground helpless. Raising your left hand above your head-

“DAMN Y/N!”

You turned your head in the direction to find Peter eyes wide holding what looked to be a bag of chips. Looking down you noticed a shocked Nat and then your right fist raised above your head and ready to strike.

“Oh my god,” jumping off Nat, your heart racing at a million beats per seconds. You knelt next to Nat who was still laying on the ground groaning. Was it hot in here? What the hell just happened? “Are you okay?”

Peter’s shout had attracted the attention of Steve and Bucky. Steve was now kneeling across from you on the other side of Nat while Peter and Bucky stood off to the side

“I’m fine,” Nat grunted as Steve helped her up, who then turned to look at you with a raised brow. “But someone’s been lying on their resumé.”

Steve looked between you two quizzically, “What do you mean?”

“Y/N over here did a little whoosh,” Peter demonstrated what he saw to Cap and Bucky. “And then BAM Nat was on the ground and Y/N was about to knock her out.”

That’s when all eyes turned to you.

Raising your hands, you pleaded, “I honestly have no idea how this happened. It was like someone else was holding the strings and I was just along for the ride. I’ve literally never fought a person before in my life, so this makes zero sense to me.”

“HYDRA,” Bucky asserted looking directly at Steve. “They probably trained her to fight and wiped her memory of it.”

“That would explain the aggressive fighting tactics Y/N used. I haven’t seen that kind of fighting since, well, you Barnes,” noted Natasha. “Whatever this is, Y/N, you need to learn how to control it.”

“Agreed,” Steve concurred. “Y/N, you need both hands on the wheel before you can continue any training.”

“But-”

“Someone could get hurt, including you,” Steve explained.

“Okay,” you accepted. As a silence took of the five of you.

“I can help Y/N,” Peter offered shyly raising his hand.

“Sorry. Bad idea Peter. If Y/N can take Nat down at a snap of her fingers, then you have no chance,” Steve pointed out.

“What about Barnes?” Nat prodded. “He’s been through it and knows how to snap out of it. It only makes sense.”

“What? No.” Barnes protested.

“She’s got a point.”

Barnes looked angrily and motioned Steve off to the side. Walking to the other side of the room, Bucky started whispering angrily at Steve.

“I wonder what they’re talking about,” Peter pondered as he offered you a chip.

“Probably 100 excuses why he doesn’t want to help me.”

Poking you, Peter continued “Hey don’t say that. It’s not your fault.”

“Bucky’s always like that, Y/N,” Nat confirmed. “Alone and brooding. But don’t worry it’s only temporary. Once you’re in control I will happily be your sparring partner.”

“How come you never offered to spar with me?” Peter questioned. As the two spider heroes began an innocent quarrel, you tried to focus in on the argument across the room. The only thing you caught Bucky saying was, “but it’s her.” What was that suppose to mean?

Before you could unpack all that, Steve must have won that argument because they were both walking back towards the three of you and only one stopped while the other angrily marched out the door.

“He’ll do it,” Steve reassured as he watched the door close behind the brooding soldier. “And don’t worry. He’ll come around.”

“If you say so.”

You could really feel the love tonight.

After the training incident, you retreated to your room to take a shower while Peter ran off to go tell Tony what happened.

Peeling off the sweat-soaked clothing, you hopped into the shower. As the warm water rushed over your skin, everything that happened at the training facility resurfaced.

But your feelings toward it were very murky. On one hand, you could kick some serious ass, which could come in handy if HYDRA or any other bad guys came after you again. But then again, you didn’t have any control over it and it wasn’t like you could summon it on command. Then with that came working with Bucky, the human form of a brick wall. How was he suppose to help you? He seems to already have problems of his own to deal with.

As you dried off and put a fresh pair of clothes and fuzzy yellow socks, you heard a knock at the door.

“Come in!”

“Hey girl!” said a cheerful Wanda. “Sam and Peter are starting a game of Life so they sent me up here to see if you wanted to join? I am playing too and Steve.”

“Sure.”

“So I heard about this morning,” Wanda prodded in the elevator ride down.

“Word travels fast here,” you commented.

“I blame Peter,” Wanda quipped. “He’s like your number one fan. I wouldn’t be surprised if he hasn’t already made an action figure of you and started playing with it. I just can’t imagine what will happen when he meets Thor.”

“Who is Thor by the way? That guy who lives in your vents mentioned him.”

Wanda laughed at that as you walked out of the elevator, “Thor he’s a god from Asgard.”

“Where is Asgard? Never heard of it.”

“It’s in a whole other dimension.” “Another dimension?”

“Yup. He has lightning powers and is super strong and handsome. He comes to Earth and helps us often and his adopted brother tried to take over the world.”

“ARE YOU GUYS TALKING ABOUT THOR?” Peter shouted excitedly from across the room. Sam, who was sitting next to him, smacked is arm putting him back in his seat.

“Oh good. We set him off,” Wanda whispered to you.

“Yup. But now we’re not,” you replied.

“Aww, okay,” mourned a disappointed Peter. “Well. Who’s ready to play?”

When the game ended with Steve winning and Sam ranting about losing his job as a doctor, everyone said goodnight and went their respective ways. Yawning as you stepped off the elevator, you noticed a small yellow sticky note on your door. Upon closer inspection, the black ink scrawled on the little yellow paper read:

Meet me at the training facility. ~ B.B.

You gently removed the note from the door. Your bed would have to wait.

#avengers x reader #Bucky barnes x reader #marvel #mcu

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jadekitty777 · 6 years

Text

Troika - Chapter 3: To Speak Good

Troika - (Noun) Russian in origin, meaning “set of three” or “three of a kind”. It is a three-way dance between people.

Summary: Taiyang has a bad dream, Qrow has homesickness and James has a headache. Not necessarily in that order.Or, a series of snapshot events at different times of this trio’s relationship together.

Rating: T

Pairing: James/Qrow/Taiyang

AO3 Link: Chapter 3

Note: There’s one more after this, and then the story is done!

If someone told Qrow five years ago that he’d one day call Atlas his home, he would have laughed.

If that same someone added he’d do it entirely for James Ironwood, he would have told the guy he was more drunk than him.

Now, with the general dozing in the seat beside him and the tall white buildings that encompassed the upper streets of Atlas growing closer as the airship reached its port, he figured he probably owed that imaginary guy a round or two.

They’d both been gone a few months – he on a mission and James on security detail duty for this year’s Vytal Festival, as he often was. Both conveniently put them in Vacuo, so once he’d finished cleaning up an infestation of Grimm in the lower quadrant, he headed to the city, enjoying the rest of his time away with the other man. James was a bit too rigid to really appreciate the less reputable side of the kingdom which was rot with gambling and underground fight rings, so Qrow improvised, taking him to sand-sailing races and hiking trails instead. It was the walk through the hollowed-out mines, once filled with Dust and now left glittering with natural minerals and stalagmites that kaleidoscoped colors across the stone, that truly fascinated the elder man to the point he wanted to explore every inch of it. Rarely seeing him so boyishly eager, Qrow was happy to oblige even long after his feet were aching from standing too much.

It was all worth it if only for the moment he watched James place his hand against one of the crystals, awash in a gentle blue hue from the reflecting light, and Qrow couldn’t help but correlate the likeness of his lover to this place: that even if parts had been forever lost or broken, what remained was even more beautiful.

Of course, he never said it out loud. Spouting poetic nonsense like that was more Tai’s thing.

Qrow had gotten a chance to see his eldest niece too. She, along with Blake and some of the other kids from the old crew, were on a march across Vacuo with the restructured White Fang, hoping to spread awareness on Faunus civil rights using peaceful protest. They’d chosen to complete their pilgrimage at the crux of the festival, knowing the streets would be crowded from the event and the news reels would be more likely to headline their efforts.

So, mostly, Qrow stood in the thin shade of a light pole in a poor attempt to hide from the burning sun, holding up a sign and letting Yang talk his ear off. She had been so happy, animatedly recounting all the sights and cultures she had seen, all the strange foods she had tried, every new place bringing a new excitement. All of it wasn’t pleasant of course. They’d met a lot of opposition on their travels throughout Remnant that she mostly alluded to, but he couldn’t help but swell with pride as he realized his niece had found her way into following her dreams of being both an adventurer and a hero.

He stretched out his arms up above his head, hearing the slight crack of joints stiff from sitting too long, before he placed a hand on James’ metal shoulder, giving him a slight shake. As he started to rouse, Qrow said, “Time to wake up, Rin Tin Tin.”

Blue eyes blinked at him blearily, saying sleepily, “How do you even know that reference?”

“You have met Tai, right? If you think he didn’t own the deluxe boxset and spent every summer vacation watching it, you’d be very wrong.” He said in way of explanation, feeling the shift of gravity as the airship started to descend for a landing.

“I didn’t, because he doesn’t own it.”

“Not anymore.” Qrow said. “Someone accidentally put it in the fireplace.”

“You did not.” There wasn’t an ounce of belief in that retort.

He grinned cheekily, “You’ll never know.”

James eyed him critically. “Well, you’ll be disappointed to know I did find the send button on my scroll.”

“Jimmy, you’ve evolved! What’s next old man? Using the coffee maker?” He snickered as the other reached out and shoved him.

“Oh, shut up.”

He saluted him. But, after a few seconds of silence, said, “Permission to speak, sir?”

James had a better poker face than most, but even he was struggling not to smile. “Denied.”

“Rude, sir.” He considered it a personal victory when he heard the other laugh softly.

“Come on, cadet.” The man said as the plane jerked on its landing. “I’ve got to drop some stuff off at my office, but we can stop at the café first, alright?”

He responded with another little salute. “Sir, yes sir!”

Qrow sipped lukewarm coffee from the plastic cup as he watched the man who had bought it for him putter about his office, putting away some last-minute documents that he’d have to organize properly when he was next there. Back before they were dating, he used to ruthlessly tease James about how much of a workaholic he was, until the other eventually told him that he wasn’t the one who once spent literal years out on the field for his own profession. It had been one of the few times someone had managed to make him pause and actually think.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t heard a variation of it before – how the war was over. How he could take a break every now and again. But it was the way James said it, reminding him that years of his life were just gone, that struck a chord with him and suddenly he understood he’d missed so much. He would never get to be at Yang’s graduation ceremony from Signal as the fiery blond cheered. He would never be able to capture the moment Ruby came home, shouting with joy over her early acceptance to Beacon. Hell, he’d never get to see that stupid, goofy smile Tai probably had when he adopted Zwei. The more he thought, the more the key events piled up, the more seriously he considered removing his name out of the Huntsman rotation permanently.

He never did, but he did lessen his prominence in the roster significantly.

So there he was, in the middle of restoration efforts for Vale city, trying to redefine his life choices, when James walks up to him and says, “Why don’t we go get some coffee?”

He hadn’t really grasped the implications when he agreed until he actually had the cup in his hands and was sitting across from the other. “Jimmy-boy, did you just ask me out on a date?”

“That was my intention, yes.”

“Oh.” And maybe it was because, after having worked together in close quarters for months as the war came to an end, he’d found that he didn’t dislike James nearly as much as he used to or maybe it was because he just wanted to have something he hadn’t allowed himself in years, that he found himself tacking on, “Well good.”

And that was the start of their relationship.

Now, as he sipped on the bitter, overshot brew and realized years had passed since that moment, he found himself not regretting the choice.

“So, we’ll be home within the hour.” James said as he shoved a few more papers into his desk.

“Sounds great!” Was the chipper reply from Tai, voice a bit crackly from being on speaker. “Either of you two hungry? I can make dinner.”

When that blue-eyed gaze turned to him questionably, Qrow called, “Something light.”

“Yeah. It was a long flight.” The general agreed.

“No problem. I can’t wait to hear all about your trip.”

With it being so early in the semester at Apollo Academy, Tai wasn’t able to get the vacation needed to join them. Not that he really wanted to abandon his class for that long anyways. Apollo was a small, secondary school designed to support smaller classrooms for children with special needs, such as amputees. Having a daughter and a lover both living with permanent prosthetics, it had sparked the man’s interest in helping others learn how to cope with their new body parts and reach a sense of normalcy again. While looking for work after he’d lost his former job following the whole newscast fiasco, he’d barely paused to think when he applied at the institute.

Watching Tai whoop and holler as he danced around the house after he’d gotten accepted for the position, Qrow could have sworn his friend was twenty again.

James closed another cabinet. “We’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah.” There was a smile in Tai’s voice as he added warmly, “I missed you guys.”

Qrow ducked behind his coffee as he smiled. James, who had paused to stare down at the phone, didn’t bother hiding his own as he said, “Yeah, us too.”

As he walked into their home, the first thing Qrow noticed was the smell of something sweet in the air that told him there was some confectionary baking in the oven. “We’re home!” He announced as he held the door for James, who came into the house with their luggage and carefully shuffled around Zwei who, despite his age, still found the energy to joyfully dart around his peoples’ legs whenever they got back.

There was a whistle, Tai standing in the alcove leading to the kitchen, “Zwei, come on buddy. You’re gonna make him trip.”

“It’s fine.” He said, lifting his square suitcase higher when, without warning, the clasp broke and a few weeks’ worth of clothing spilled out over the floor. The lump of dog underneath the clothing shifted and then he was popping his head back up, a pair of plaid briefs on his head.

When James sent a disgruntled look his way, Qrow shrugged, “Hey don’t blame me! I told you to replace that old thing years ago.”

“I still blame you.”

Laughing, their blond lover walked over, unearthing the rest of his poor corgi first before he started to gather up the clothes. James knelt down, seemingly to help, until his hand caught the younger’s wrist and, when he looked up, lent forward to press their lips together. Tai gave a gentle hum, smiling as he wound an arm over the other’s shoulders. They might have stayed like that awhile, if not for the buzzer from the kitchen that pulled them apart.

“Oh, that’s the dessert.”

“I got it.” Qrow said, giving Tai a wink as he passed on by.

“Well,” The wisecrack followed him, “There was dessert at least.”

He could hear the softness of their voices continue on as he entered the kitchen where he was definitely not planning on stealing pieces of whatever confectionary Tai had decided to make. He found the mitts as he pulled open the oven door, and at first, he thought they were cupcakes, until he lifted them out and brought the tray into the light to discover they were actually muffins.

Huh. Today was just full of ironic food choices.

He set it down on the cooling rack and flicked off the oven, before giving the area a look over. Tai, whether it be on the team, in the family or in their relationship, had remained the cook – so his little haven was pristinely clean except for the vestiges of where dinner was being made. There was something shimmering on the stove and, when he lent forward to look through the glass top, saw it was soup – chicken noodle, he guessed. Lettuce, freshly cut and washed, sat in a strainer. On a cutting board, shredded carrots and radishes that were probably going to be mixed in to make a simple salad. The tea kettle puffed out steam where it sat on the counter; he’d bet every lien he had that it was Jasmine. Their table had already been set; wooden chopsticks by his and Tai’s plates and more durable, metal ones for James.

By the time he was peeling off the paper liner from one of the muffins, his best friend was back, rolling his eyes at him. “Really?”

“It’s what you get for baiting me.” He replied before taking a huge bite.

Tai chuckled, before he went back to making dinner, dicing the rest of the radishes. As he worked, Qrow destroyed the rest of his muffin in a few quick bites, then sidled up next to the other. The knife slowed, the blonde observing him from the corner of his eye. “Can I help you?”

“Well I was thinking,” He started, dancing his fingers along the other’s back, but trailed off when the other jolted away. “Uh, you alright?”

Tai flushed a bit. “Yeah, sorry. That surprised me.”

“Geez, you’re getting old too.”

“Make more jokes like that and I’m hiding the rest of the muffins.”

“Forgive me!” Qrow rested a hand over his heart overdramatically, falling against the other’s shoulder. “For I know not what I say!”

His friend tried his best not to snicker but his grin was untamable. He set down the knife in favor of winding his toned arms around him, bringing them flush together. Tai pecked fond, little kisses along his face, until finally he got to his lips, lingering there. Qrow’s eyes slid shut, leaning in to the caress as he raked his hands through blond hair.

It was the hissing of the overflowing pot that drew Tai away this time. “Ah damn it,” He cursed softly before hurrying over to lift the pot off the burner.

Qrow lent back against the counter, watching him as he pulled off the top, letting the steam out to cool the angrily bubbling liquid. His eyes wandered a bit, pausing curiously on the patch of reddened skin around the edges of the heart tattoo. “Your arm…”

“Huh?” Tai glanced at him, then followed his gaze down to his own still-healing skin. “Oh yeah; I got it touched up, remember?”

“Thought you said you were doing that a few weeks ago?”

He shrugged, turning away to stir the soup. “Well, yeah but Ruby wanted to come with me. So, I postponed.”

That took a minute to compute. “Wait. Did you convince my niece to get a tattoo?”

“No, no.” He was grinning almost manically as he pointed the spoon his way. “She convinced Weiss to get one.”

That revelation took longer, but when it did, Qrow’s eyes bulged. “What!? Ice princess got some ink?!”

“Please tell me Winter doesn’t know.” They both glanced over at James as he entered the room, looking weary already. “Otherwise I’ll never hear the end of it on Monday.”

“Well, it’s not exactly in a discreet place, unless she’s wearing a long dress or really tall boots.”

“Just perfect,” Was the sigh of defeat.

Qrow started to guffaw. “So it’s on her leg? What is it?”

“A red rose with the stem wrapping around her ankle. It’s quite pretty actually.” Tai said, sounding almost fond. Whether it simply be for the art of tattoos or over his unofficial daughter-in-law, it was a little hard to tell. “Anyways!” He reached up to pull down some bowls. “Dinner’s pretty much done. Qrow will you pour the tea?”

“You got it.”

As the day faded to evening and the three of them enjoyed dinner together for the first time in nearly five weeks, Qrow felt a familiar wash of calm overcome him. He had missed this: a dog dozing under the table at their feet and them talking about their day. James recounting somewhat irritably about how lack his security team was. Tai excitedly detailing how well the students from his class were doing. Qrow chiming in about the highlights from the festival.

And when James finally remembered to ask, “By the way, what happened to your copy of Rin Tin Tin?”

And Tai answered, “Oh. Qrow was drunk one night and thought the trees on the cover were firewood, so he put it in the fireplace.”

Qrow couldn’t stop laughing, feeling more at home than ever before.

~~~

A/N: So, if anyone is wondering about the chapter titles, I was looking for another “set of three” idea to name them after. While looking for ideas, I found out three is a really common number in a lot of religious practices – and I stumbled upon Zoroastrianism. One of the philosophies is just like the titles of the chapters – Thinking good, acting good and speaking good will lead to a good life. There’s a lot more to it of course, but that’s a basic principle on their lifestyle.

I realized the chapters aligned pretty well with these ideas, so I went with it.

Chapter 1 is all about good action. It certainly fits James and his disciplined nature the most but Qrow and Tai both have their moments on debating “what the right thing to do” is.

Chapter 2 is focused around good thinking, hence Tai’s many bracketed thoughts in which he’s trying to fight his poor psyche with better views (I actually added a few when I decided on the chapter title). Likewise, Qrow’s own thoughts are a bit see-sawed while James is the reassurance.

Chapter 3 has the weakest connection, because Qrow himself is not a “good” speaker seeing as I depicted him struggling with expressing himself and the plot definitely revolved around a “slice of life” style story. The entire decision basically comes down to the ending – where he finds the most peace and happiness in the simple act of talking around the dinner table with James and Tai.

Now, there’s only one chapter left, but don’t worry, I have a great title in mind! Stay tuned, it’ll be up within a week!

#james ironwood #taiyang xiao long #qrow branwen #qrow #taiyang #general ironwood #rwby #fanfiction #jamesqrowtai #Chase Firekitten's Tale

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pokemonfreak387 · 7 years

Text

Winter Break (Redone) Chapter 11 (Friskriel Fanfic)

Notes: Oh hey look. Angst. Huh, that was a thing the original fic was definitely missing. No wonder it was a shitty story. Also fair warning, the word f** is used uncensored in this chapter. Thanks to @thunders29 for proofreading and being supportive!

Chapter Summary: Asriel makes his way back to school after the winter break, but trouble soon rears its ugly head for him. The fiasco at the party has already been spread, and Asriel is more than upset about it. 2543 Words.

Chapter 11 Then We Wouldn’t Have to Deal With You Moggers

Asriel groaned as his alarm clock blared in his ears. If there was a thing all teens his age could agree on, it would be that the alarm on the first day back to school after a long break is both the loudest and most annoying one yet. It didn’t help him either that he could barely sleep thinking about what may happen when he gets back to school, especially after the New Year’s Party fiasco. Granted, Asriel didn’t see any of the school gossipers there at the party ironically, so there was a chance he was safe.

As Asriel slowly sat up and turned off his alarm, he heard a small noise being emitted next to him. He turned his head to find that Frisk was actually laying next to him still asleep. Two questions popped into his head: Why was Frisk here, and how did they sleep through the alarm? No matter the answer, Asriel gently made his way out of bed without waking them up, collected his clothes for the day, and went downstairs for breakfast.

It wasn’t until Asriel had breakfast and showered that he saw Frisk again that morning. He was laying in the loft, drawing on his sketchbook, when he heard his door open. Sure enough, Frisk appeared from behind it, one of Asriel’s blankets wrapped around them.

“You’re up early.” Asriel remarked, peeking above his sketchbook.

Frisk didn’t respond, but instead made their way over to the boss monster. They gently took the sketchbook out of his hands, placed it on the coffee table, and flopped themselves on top of him. He let out a surprised puff as he got most of the air knocked out of him, but it was shortly followed by giggles.

“Mmm, warm…” Frisk murmured.

“Even being wrapped in that thing, you’re still cold?” Asriel chuckled. “By the way, why were you in my bed this morning?”

Frisk rubbed their head deeper into Asriel’s chest. “Room… Too cold. Wanted warmth.”

Asriel never did understand why humans got so cold so easily, even when they had on garments that practically simulated fur on their body. Maybe it was because humans didn’t have magic within them to keep them warm? Definitely a question to ask Alphys today in class. Speaking of which, Asriel fished his phone from his pocket and saw it was time for him to leave. As much as he didn’t want to leave the comforting embrace of his lover, school called, and Toriel was going to be even more pissed if he didn’t go. Asriel gently kissed Frisk on their head and guided them back to their feet, Frisk letting out a groan in protest.

“Asriel…” They started. “Please be careful today. I’m worried what may happen to you.”

“S-same, honestly.” He replied. “Maybe with luck, everyone has forgotten about it?”

Frisk gave him a face.

“Hey I’m just trying to be optimistic.”

Frisk just chuckled and shook their head. They then walked up to Asriel and gave him a kiss. They stayed together for a while, their tongues twisting with each other, until they broke off and Asriel made his way to school.

---

When Asriel first came to middle school, he remembered people constantly whispering around him. He knew the whispers then were about him, some good, some bad, all leaving him with soul-shaking anxiety. Now in high school, the whispering had become somewhat less, and any whispering that did occur didn’t affect Asriel quite as much as it did before. However, it seemed the whispering was especially loud today, and the Anxiety that Asriel had first felt four years ago came back.

Trying to avoid the gazes of the students around him, Asriel made it to his Chinese class. He was glad to see John and Dave already there, though part of him was also a little disgusted by them. Maybe it was the memory of the two of them going off somewhere during the party to bang, but he didn’t give it much attention. Instead, he put on his best cheery facade and walked up to them.

“John! Dave!” Asriel greeted. “Howdy, how’s it going?”

John jumped at his voice and gave Asriel a nervous look. When Dave turned around and faced the boss monster, even through his shades, his eyes looked worrying. It was rare to see Dave have any sort of emotion, so this led to Asriel to instantly lose what positivity he had.

“Um… Asriel,” John said nervously. “You… May want to read this.”

He handed Asriel over a paper. It was the school’s newspaper, the “What’s News” newspaper. Seems even Toriel had gotten her hands on naming this, but that wasn’t what caught Asriel’s eye and the boys’ attention. No, what made them act so anxious was the headline”

BREAKING NEWS: IS THE HUMAN-MONSTER AMBASSADOR AN INCESTUAL TETRAPHILE?

On the night of December 31st, 2020, a majority of the town, Ebott, had been invited over to the Mettamansion for the ever popular Mettaton’s annual New Year’s Party. It was a very exciting event, especially since this was the first time ever that the human-monster ambassador, Frisk Dreemurr, had been able to attend one of these parties. There was plenty of enjoyment to be had, listening to their story of how they made it through the underground first-hand. However, it was only shortly after they finished their story that we got a shock of a lifetime. Around 11:05, Frisk had begun searching for their brother, Asriel Dreemurr. Nobody thought anything of it at first, until Asriel suddenly appeared in front of them, more drunk than a JRPG character. The 16-year old boss monster must have been drinking out of loneliness, as shortly after he had begun to what seemed to be sexually advancing onto Frisk. They showed resistance, that is until Asriel had begun to try to kiss them! He had blacked out during it, but it was very obvious what he was trying to do. This leads many questions to the public: are Frisk and Asriel in a relationship? Does the ambassador have more personal reasons for their ambassadorship? How long has this been going on? How will this affect Frisk personally? We will find answers soon.

When Asriel finished reading the article, he was so enraged that he burned the paper into ashes within seconds, and tossed them into the trash. John and Dave looked at him with fear and surprise.

“Hey!” John whined. “I paid a dollar for that!”

Asriel shot him back a glare that made John cower. Asriel seemed to be a lot scarier than he normally was. Dave had assumed that Asriel would begin to freak out like his usual anxious self, but he did not foresee this. In a low voice, Asriel growled something.

“Who wrote this!?”

The boys looked at each other.

“I-I think Marco Linder.” Dave responded. “He is the director of the press. Go to Mrs. Lalonde, she may be able to tell you more.”

In an instant, Asriel stormed out of the classroom, leaving the boys and any other bystanders stunned. John and Dave gave each other a look, and they made their way to Mrs. Lalonde’s room. There was no telling what Asriel would do at this state.

---

Rage didn’t even define what Asriel was feeling right now. He expected an attack on himself, especially with how much he knew there was a lot people in the school that didn’t like him, and he would’ve taken it passively as per usual. But frisk? No, that was crossing the fucking line, and Marco was about to learn that. It would be a miracle if Asriel didn’t get suspended from burning him to a crisp.

Mrs. Lalonde’s room was directly below Mr. Walsh’s class, so the trip wasn’t too long. However, no matter the distance, it seemed someone beat Asriel to the punch. Someone who, just like the teen, was a white, furred monster of large, threatening size. There was no mistaking the loud, lecturing voice. Even if it seemed way more malicious than usual, Asriel knew exactly who was already chewing out his target.

“Do you realize just how much damage you have dealt to so many reputations?” Toriel asked in a surprisingly restrained voice. “And you just let this story slide? Without thinking just how badly it would affect the world? This school was not built on rumors and dishonesty!”

“He claims that he was just going to report on something about the party.” Mrs. Lalonde tried to explain. “I didn’t go so I wasn’t aware that what he was reporting was this.”

“But didn’t you look at the final print before it was published?”

“N-no… I just thought, since he’s been doing so well, I had confidence in Marco that it was perfect.”

Toriel scoffed at the teacher’s ignorance. She then turned to Marco, fire almost literally burning in her eyes.

“Listen up, young man. This school is built on patience, bravery, integrity, perseverance, kindness, justice, and determination. This school was not built on childish rumors that are to be reported in the school news!”

“But it isn’t a rumor!” Marco talked back, no hint of regret or restrain in his voice. “Besides, you’re just biased cause these are your kids!”

“Well I am a mother to my children first, so as their mother I demand you tell me why you did it.”

Marco huffed in frustration. “We were short in stories and we needed something good. Unlucky for you, someone managed to hand us this gem of a story.”

“Who?” Toriel demanded, but Marco just laughed.

“You think I would tell you? A news reporter never reveals their sources.”

“Is that so? Well, I’m sure you’d be happy to tell the same thing to your parents once you are suspended on the grounds of bad attitude, failure to comply to the school rules, and threatening the life of a student. Not to mention if I don’t hear who told you right now, the Newspaper Club will be disbanded, and Mrs. Lalonde loses some of her paycheck.”

A whine came from the teacher, but she refused to speak. Marco also seemed to not want to talk, but there was no fear in his eyes, only challenge. Toriel could not believe this. She had never met such an ignorant, stubborn person in her life. It’s hard to believe that she used to think that Marco was actually once a good student when he first came to the school two years ago. What has this world turned into?

The stare off between Toriel and Marco was cut short as some called out “Excuse me,” from the audience that had formed behind Asriel. Everyone turned towards the bunny monster who spoke up. She shrank back when she suddenly realized everyone was looking at her, then mumbled something barely audible.

“Speak up child.” Toriel commanded, a little softer than she has been.

“I-it was a g-girl named Gillian.” The bunny explained. At the word Gillian, Asriel gasped, and all his rage suddenly melted into disbelief. “Gillian Tynnclear from B-Black Hills High Sch-school. We got the info f-from her.”

Toriel sighed at that news. Black Hills has not been a very friendly school with Tutoriel High, so she wasn’t too surprised it was a student from that anti-monster school. She recomposed herself and looked around the room. Her eyes then landed back on Mrs. Lalonde and Marco.

“Well, it seems at least someone can show a little integrity.” She remarked. “Mrs. Lalonde, the Newspaper club is to not release any more issues until we see some justice. Mr. Linder, I will see you in my office after school with your parents. The rest of you, please go to your first periods, the bell is about to ring.”

The audience parted like the Red Sea as Toriel walked out of the room, a small shake in her stride. The students soon dispersed, chatting about what just happened, some praising the bunny, some throwing tetraphobic jokes her and Toriel’s way. Mrs. Lalonde even left the room, looking like she was about to pass out in fear. This just left Asriel and Marco. One look at the rather short human, and Asriel’s rage reignited.

Asriel advanced over to him. Fireballs had begun to form in his hands, the flames shaking without much restraint. Determination and anger were plastered on the boss monster’s face as he spoke to the senior.

“Why?” He growled. “Why would you ruin all we worked for? All the PEACE we worked for!?”

The second Asriel got the last word out, Marco became a blur, and Asriel felt something smack him right in the cheek, knocking him to the ground in pain and snuffing out the flames in his palms. The world blurred, and Asriel began to feel dizzy. His cheek began to go numb as he saw a pair of shoes walk up to him, kicking him in the stomach and knocking the air out of him as he curled up in pain.

“Peace? Bullshit. All you monsters are nothing but trouble.” Marco spewed. “You all come here with your magical bullshit, suddenly claiming everyone is connected by their ‘souls’ and then we find out you can actually MAKE lives? You all have played god long enough.”

He kicked Asriel again.

“If only Trump actually became president. Then we wouldn’t have to deal with you moggers.”

Moggers was the worst insult one could call any monster. It was an old phrase from before the war, often used more to describe the more corrupt monsters. However, today it was used as a slur, much like fag and the n-word. It was the nail in the coffin to make tears finally stream from Asriel.

“Go back to the Underground, and then go to hell.” Marco spat, leaving Asriel to squirm on the floor in pain. When the door closed, Asriel let out a sob that he had been holding in. He wasn’t crying over being attacked, or being insulted, or even at meeting possibly the worst human ever. No, what made him cry was that he broke the promise he made to Frisk that morning. He blamed himself, as per usual, and was afraid to see Frisk after this. At the same time, he wanted them now more than ever. They would heal him, make him feel better, just make him forget about this only for a little while. But instead, Asriel just laid on the cold, tiled floor, crying.

A short minute later, Asriel heard a loud zap, followed by a pair of arms picking him up. He tried to look through the tears and dizziness to see exactly who it was. All he saw was a round, bone white head, and something blue underneath it.

“C’mon kid, let’s get you home.” The character said. Asriel felt a rush of wind and the background suddenly changed. He finally saw the character to be Sans, which made sense to him now that he thought about it. Sans laid the boss teen down on his bed, taking off his shoes and pulling the covers over him. He gave one last scratch to the back of Asriel’s ear before walking off.

“Rest up,” He whispered. “I’ll go get Frisk.”

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