#i wanna take t so bad.. id love to pass.
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my parents almost exclusively use they/them for me even though I told them I'm heavily preferential to he/him because they feel it's "more in line with how they perceive me," basically. so when people other than my friends use he/him for me it's. Rare but fulfilled
#i wanna take t so bad.. id love to pass.#id love to have a deeper voice... id love to have a more rectangular figure and less of an#hourglass figure. i want to be masculine looking. id like the world to see me the way i feel i am.#but its been insisted upon me that i just dont have confidence#that i havent put enough thought into it. that i just need to buy new clothes.#so i just . stay where i am as unhappy in this body and uncomfortable trying to explain it#because then i get my own feelings explained to me which feels great#this. turned into a vent. i am sorry! god#vent
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ok hi im the one that sent the teen wolf ask i forgot to specify! id love anything with a baby regressor stiles and maybe a caregiver sheriff stilinksi (he gets so much better throughout the seasons i swear) or caregiver derek! (both as platonic pairings) i hope u like the show ^^!!
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ protector ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹
|| stiles stilinski x derek hale | read on ao3
a/n: my insistent need to write sterek angst is showing whoops
warnings: Derek finding out about Stiles’ regression for the first time, hurt/comfort, Stiles using regression as a coping mechanism, protective Derek
-
Derek glances over at Stiles for the fifth time in the past minute, something's off with him, he's bouncing his leg and his heart beats as if he's on edge. It's not an emotion Hale picks up a lot from Stiles, anxious and nervous aren't words Derek would think to describe him at all, he's more energetic and curious than anything.
So it's raising quite a few red flags now. They're at Scott's house, trying to act normal and watch a movie like regular non-supernatural friends do. Lydia and Jackson are laid out on the makeshift bed on the floor next to Alison and Scott, there's a horror comedy going that the pairs seem very interested in. Isaac, Stiles and Derek take up the couch with Stiles in the middle.
Before the shift of Stiles’ behavior he was happily chuckling at the movie, giggling really, another thing Derek has never heard until tonight. Maybe he just hasn't been around Stiles long enough outside the near death experiences they share, Hale can't spend too much time dwelling on it as when a gruesome yet comical death pops up on screen Stiles curls back from the Tv.
He's closer to Derek than Isaac, who must've picked up on Stiles' actions and heartbeat as he keeps looking him over, presumably checking for injuries like Isaac usually does when someones acting off. Derek almost goes to ask Stiles if he's alright but he can't get the words out before Stiles is barreling himself backwards into Derek's chest.
"You okay?" Stiles doesn't say anything in reply but his heart rate has ticked up a significant amount and one of his hands grabs the loose material of Derek's t-shirt like a lifeline.
"Stiles?" He keeps his voice low, even if half the room can hear him if they wanted to no matter what. Stiles lets out a small whine, it twists something in Derek's chest, he suddenly has the urge to wrap Stiles up in a mountain of blankets and never let anything bad or scary come near him.
"Is it the movie?" Another flinch after a bloody scene and the pieces fall together, Derek curls his arm around Stiles to block out the Tv, practically shielding his whole body into Hales chest.
"Wanna leave." It's small, pitchy, unusually young sounding. It's all Derek needs to jump up with a sputtered out excuse about Stiles having a headache and needing a ride home, of course the other wolves sitting around hear how obvious of a lie it is but they thankfully keep their mouths shut.
-
Getting to Stiles' house takes no time at all, Noah's still at the office so Derek is able to slip them both upstairs without any interruptions. Stiles stays pressed to Hales side the whole time. As close as he can get while still using his legs to walk, or to drag, Derek holds most of Stiles' weight and takes them up the stairs as carefully as he can to not have either of them trip.
"Can you tell me what's going on now?" He tries to sound assuring, attempting to not let any of the worry that Derek can feel building in his gut appear on his face or in his tone.
"I feel- small." Stiles doesn't look up as he says it, squeezing the ball of Derek's shirt he still holds instead, pulling him the littlest bit closer despite the hesitation in his words.
"Small?" A beat passes of silence. Derek isn't sure what to do in this situation, he's never had someone hold onto him like this, clinging onto to him as if begging him not to leave.
His thoughts get pulled back to reality when Stiles leans over his bed, one hand still holding Derek's shirt so it stretches as he reaches with his free arm, retrieving a small book that he places slowly in Derek's lap.
It's clipped down with a small strip of cloth that's definitely needed as the book thickens up quickly when Derek un clasps it. The first few pages are warnings as to not continue reading as this is personal for Stiles, Derek flips past them when Stiles nudges him along, stopping him on a specific page. It's a list of definitions scribbled down in Stiles' handwriting, Derek focuses in on the one that reads 'Little (small)' there's a dash before it explains what an age regressor is, how it's a change in mental state, a coping mechanism.
Oh. Derek's eyes fall to Stiles' state, how curled in on himself he is, how his eyes have a slight gloss of pain to them; Hales heart all but shatters. He quickly pulls Stiles into his chest, pushing them back till they reach Stiles' headboard. He's hoping this is the right move. It feels like it and Stiles hasn't pushed him away yet, so Derek just holds him, taking in deep breaths in hopes that Stiles will naturally relax enough to match the pattern, and rubbing his hand in big circles over Stiles' back for extra comfort.
"The movie, it triggered you?" Stiles nods against Derek's chest, tucking his legs up on top of Hales, looking impossibly tiny as he lays on Derek.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Triggers aren't new to Derek, not in the slightest, but this is the first time he's ever seen something affect Stiles, normally the brunette is great at bouncing back and keeping things together, at least on the surface. But judging by the amount of pages in that book that are filled, this isn't a new feeling for Stiles.
"Stay, don't let the bad things get me." The young sound and vulnerability in Stiles voice is enough to crack Derek's heart open even more. He can't help but tug Stiles in closer, allowing Stiles to wrap his arms around Hales waist as he tucks his nose into Derek's shoulder.
"I'd never let anything get you, never." Hales hand brushes over Stiles' head, rest on the back of his neck a second, allowing himself to indulge in the softness of the moment. Normally Derek wouldn't dream of being this gentle with someone, frankly he's bad at it, but there's something about Stiles and how easily he cuddles into Derek's chest that makes it seem like a no-brainer to return the affection.
"You're a good protector." It's just barely a mumble, Stiles' eyes fluttering shut as he falls asleep.
Derek's pretty sure he doesn't breathe for a solid minute after hearing the words, he pretends like it doesn't make him tear up a bit and instead focuses on holding Stiles as carefully as he can so the little doesn’t wake up and keeping watch of the door. If Stiles doesn’t want anything bad to happen and he trusts Derek to keep sure of that, it’s all he going to do.
-
#jj writes#teen wolf agere#stiles stilinski#derek hale#little!stiles#caregiver!derek hale#derek x stiles
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9 people you’d like to get to know better
Tagged by: @rketamine ayoooooooo whate up :3
Last song: Lauslát by Múgsefjun (real ones understand)
Favorite color: yellowwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. like the magnificent creature that i love the banana slut ... also orange i have a lot of orange things
Currently watching: yesterday i started a rewatch of both OK KO and Mushoku Tensei! worse answer is im slowly getting thru uhh some popular yuri anime and, i dont wanna name names but why does yuri as a genre suck so bad? i need to get q***rbaited by a show with good writing again
Last movie: it was Kong vs. Godzilla (2021) NOT my choice. id describe it as All the worst hollywood tropes at once
Currently Reading: I'm Glad My Mom Died by Jeanette McCurdy (im always late to the trendy reads bc i pick them up from the library and when sm is popular the queue is loooooong). also uhh Oshi No Ko. yes i gave in and im reading the manga, no im not explaining myself.
Sweet/Spicy/Savory: Sweet !!!!!!!!!!!!
Relationship Status: emotionally unavailable mentally unfit
Current Obsession(s): fuckin,, whatever. its still hetalia. theres so many worms in my brain theyre piloting me like a meat mech
Last thing I googled: i could lie here but i wont. "mizuhara zakuro" the BL artist. Fun game: she only has 3 translated works, guess which one is my fav and i have a h*t*lia au of. (jk dont do this i couldnt take the psychic damage. at least not on main)
Currently working on: PASS. PASS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DONT LOOK AT ME. IM NOT WORKING ON ANYTHING IM NO T IM NOT. wait sorry no, yes i am. i have like 7 bracelets in various states of progress. two of which im hoping to mail off by the end of the week :3 !!!!!!!!!! EVERYONE gets a friendship bracelet. i have quite a personal collection at this point too, almost all by me for me. dont worry about that first thing btw im normal
tagging: nine people who want to do this. sorry . if u see this and want to do it , do it and say i tagged u. i love all my tumblrfriends <3
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Love and Loss; Prompts
Inspired by My Chemical Romance, Alan Walker, Green Day, P!nk, Panic! at the Disco, @augment-techs and @lordkingsmith
Honey if you stay, you’ll be forgiven//nothing you can say can stop me going home
What’s the worst thing I could say//Things are better if I stay
Came a time, when every star fall brought you to tears again//we are, the very hurt you sold
What’s the worst you take, from every heart you break
Something buried deep inside us, the major and the minor, we were like the piano keys; you played for me
I’ve become what you cannot embrace//our memories will be my lullaby
All the greatest loves, end in violence//it’s tearing up my voice, left in silence
Baby i got these scars, reminding me to forget
If you promise not to cry, I’ll tell you just what I would say if I could be with you tonight
So long to all my friends, every one of them met tragic ends//with every passing day, id be lying if I didn’t say that I miss them all tonight
And they found you on the bathroom floor
Back home, off the run, singing songs that make you slit your wrists, it isn’t that much fun
So I won’t stop lying, won’t stop crying, if you want I’ll keep on dying
Gimme all your poison, and give me all your pills, give me all your hopeless hearts and make me ill
If this is what you want then fire at will
No one ever had much nice to say, I think they never liked you anyway, well you’re dead
Remind me how it feels to hear your voice; living life as if we had a choice
Sing me to sleep, love, sing me to sleep
Little girl, little girl why are you crying? Inside your restless soul your heart is dying
Little one, little one your soul is purgin', of love and razor blades, your blood is surgin'
When someone said three years from now, you’d be long gone; I’d stand up and punch them out, cuz they’re all wrong//I know better, cuz you said forever//and ever// who knew
The traces of blood always follow you home// Like the mascara tears from your getaway
Hand in mine, into your icy blues, and then I’d say to you, we could take to the highway, with a trunk of ammunition too;
I’d end my days with you, in a hail of bullets
When through it all the rise and fall, the bodies in the street, when we’re gone, we want you all to know
Though we are dead and gone believe me, your memory will carry on
Oh Mona Lisa, you’re guaranteed to run this town, oh Mona Lisa, I’d pay to see you frown
Say what you mean, tell me I’m right, give me a sign, I wanna believe
I just hope you know, that if you say goodbye today//I’d ask you to be true//cuz the hardest part of this is leaving you
I waited so long, for someone to say//if you could hold on, I’d maybe get you to stay
And as we ran from the cops, we laughed so hard, it would sting
If I’m so wrong, so wrong, so wrong, how can you listen all night long
You’ll never take me alone, you’ll never get me back home, I never wanna go home with you//and still—
And we’re all about to sell it cuz it’s tragic with a CAPITAL T
And you’re walking away//and I will die in this place
Sometimes I get the feeling, she’s watching over me//and other times I’m feeling so alone
There’s writing on the ceiling, that only I can see//and other times I feel like running home
Cuz the time we had, was really not so bad, despite the reservations that you had//i don’t care at all, I’m really not so sad, despite the observation that you had
If you look in the mirror and don’t like whatcha see, you can find out firsthand what it’s like to be me
The doctors and the nurses they adore me so//but it’s really quite alarming cuz I’m SUCH AN AWFUL FUUUUCK
You dig so deep for scars//you never knew your mind was dark
Well I know you lay in bed, contemplating your own death, just look at what you’ve done, don’t you dare forget the sun, love
Girl you’re not invisible, you’re all that I can see
Forget about the dirty looks, the photographs your boyfriend took, remember when you broke your foot, from jumping out the second floor—
You only hear the music, when your heart begins to break.
Tell me a story, into that goodnight//sing us a song for me
Are you thinking of me//like I’m thinking of you
And if you would call me your sweetheart, I’d maybe then sing you a song//but the shit that I’ve done with this fuck of a gun, you would cry out your eyes all along
Mama, we all go to hell, it’s really quite pleasant, except for the smell, mama we all go to hell~
I choose defeat, I walk away, I leave this place, for sane today
Some like to sleep, we like to play, just look at all that Shame~
I never said I missed her, when everybody kissed her, now I’m the only one to blame.
Things have changed for me, and that’s ok, I feel the same, I’m on my way
So long to all my friends, every one of them met tragic ends//with every passing day, I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I miss them all tonight
If I could be with you tonight, I would sing you to sleep, never let them take the light behind your eyes
I think this list is long enough, for now. I’ll add more if I get any~ till then knock yourself out with these!
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The Playgirl (ft. LOONA’s Yves) [Part 3] [Female Reader]
—————
I’m back with part 3!
I know I said I’d start mentioning Yves being futa here, but welp, I doubt it’d be out until Part 6-8?
If you prefer, this is also on AO3 and AFF!
Thanks to @existslikepristin and @ggidolsmuts for editing / beta reading!
—————
Another month passes.
Yves has been improving a lot, and you're teaching her more than just math. Even on weekends, she requests tutoring, and both of you work on projects or study together, be it at Seoul U's cafe or in empty classrooms.
Two months since you began tutoring her, about one month since you took up her deal. Something in Yves shifts—when she began studying, it was out of just competitive spirit. Now, she seems to truly like what she's doing, and you can't help but to let yourself enjoy the sight of this Yves. She turns up to school a little more regularly, though she still comes to terrorize people. She doesn't go out to parties as much, choosing instead to hang with you. The attention you get from her feels like too much and not enough at the same time.
Other than being your student, Yves becomes somewhat of a regular fixture in your life. She still frustrates you—her semi-regular absences from school are met with your nagging and her regular dismissal, her constant nonchalance about how she carries herself still annoys you, and she still constantly flirts with you. That last point is also part of the reason why she is kind of a welcome presence in your life. If she isn't present in school, she will be seen leaning against a wall after class, leather jacket over her shoulders, your favourite mocha frappe in her hands. If she doesn't turn up for a tutoring session, she drops a call and apologizes, then makes it up to you with your favourite dessert next session. On the regular, she always has a compliment or a greasy remark tailored for you on hand, both making you groan and internally panic simultaneously.
It doesn't help that she keeps getting prettier, at least to you. Every day, her empty desk taunts you. Sometimes, you wish she was next to you, lollipop in her mouth, gazing at you and flirting with you. Your heart skips a beat when she pushes herself off the wall to wrap an arm around your shoulder, waving the frappe in front of your face with a "Hey, babygirl" . You look forward to the text exchanges with her every night, where both of you can text for hours. You adore her lip bites when she is focused on something, her soft "Assa!" when she gets something right.
Perhaps your crush on her is starting to get out of hand, but you don't want it to end.
-----
Your phone rings. Caller ID: yves 💘
"Yo, babygirl."
"Don't—ah, nevermind."
"The cafe's closed today. Wanna come over to my place?"
"What?"
"My place. Come over."
"Oh, um…"
"Text me your address. I'll pick you up."
"Okay."
When Yves hangs up, you panic. Her place? You'll get to see how she lives? Her private space? What?! You fire off a text to Yves, then you carry on panicking.
[yves💘 has sent a message:]
Gotchu
I'll see you in 15, babygirl
Can't wait ;)
-----
Yves's place is cozy. For someone so punk rock, her place looks so homely, so full of life. However, Yves lives alone. Weird, considering there's a lot of stuff that is placed neatly on tables and shelves, too much for one person to use.
"Welcome to my humble abode, babygirl." Yves curtsies, flashing you her dazzling smile. You place your bag down on the couch in her living room, rummaging to find what you need.
"Hey, would you mind if I went for a shower first? I've had a busy morning."
"Oh, no, sure. Go ahead."
"Right, thanks babe."
Yves leaves. In the meantime, you wander around her living room, glancing at the items on her shelves. A vintage tea set, a back scratcher, and an old camera? Those look pretty cool. Beneath that, another shelf holds a few old DVD cases, each of some old music from the 70s and 80s. Also, are those cassette tapes? You pick each one up, getting a feel of them in your hands. Damn, these are cool.
You wander along the hallways. When you pass by the bathroom, you can hear the water running. Suddenly, you’re hit with intrusive thoughts, all of them about Yves.
Your crush. Just a handful of metres away from you. Undressing. Naked. Under the shower. Water running down her bare skin, maybe over those chiseled abs of hers? Her naked chest, her legs?
You return to her couch, collapsing on it, trying to fight the dirtier thoughts in your head.
You sink your face in your hands, groaning at the thought of a naked Yves. This isn't the first time, and it won't be the last, but it sucks to be thinking of something inappropriate when the time isn't right. The gulps of water you inhale don't quench the correct thirst, but at least it does something.
"Hey baby."
Yves's voice makes you jump. The cutest girl ever greets your eyes, with a look that you never thought she'd rock. That same girl has her head bowed, a sheepish smile on her face, her hand moving to tuck some hair behind her ear.
She looks gorgeous.
Her wet hair, formerly slicked back, now falls over her forehead, forming cute bangs. Her leather jackets and crop tops are traded for a cozy oversized long-sleeved sweater that engulfs her body, giving her sweater paws. Yves pairs that with sweatpants, and a cute pair of bunny slippers.
She looks so cute and all you want to do is to mash her lips with yours.
You gasp, freezing. Yves walks over to you, planting her books on the table, refusing to meet your eyes. She grins when she finally looks at you though.
"How do I look?"
"Ah, um, er…" You stammer, unable to process the sight of the punk rock, cool, bad girl Yves now looking like a girly, adorable cutie. This wasn't Yves, this was just Ha Sooyoung.
"You… you look, er, good," you breathe.
Yves halts, red starting to colour her ears. She looks away, seemingly wiping at her face with one of her sleeves.
"Thank you." Her voice is tiny, tinier than usual. You want to hug her but you control yourself, settling to admire how she looks instead. She looks so pretty, so fucking pretty, and you wonder why she doesn't look like this on the regular. Maybe she's letting you see her more private, intimate side. Maybe she somehow found out you quite like this style. Whatever the reason is, it's working. How do you even continue to function today, now that you've seen Yves look like this?
You love this Yves— no, this is Ha Sooyoung, you hastily remind yourself. She looks so domestic, so cute, so… girlfriend? You want to glomp her, and that urge is increasingly hard to control.
"Let's begin."
"O-Okay."
Both of you slip into your roles as teacher and student. For Yves, it’s seamless, but for you, you struggle to do so. The student herself is a distraction.
The session begins.
-----
"Stay for dinner, babe?"
Yves rises from her chair, walking over to her kitchen. She begins pulling stuff out of her fridge and cabinets, setting them on the table.
"Oh, sure."
You sink yourself on a dining chair as Yves ties an apron around her neck. She begins work on chopping up some garlic and onions, and you let yourself just… look at her.
She looks so cool, so domestic, so beautiful as she works on whatever it is. You can't help but fall harder for her, and you let yourself gaze lovingly stare at her.
"You're staring, babygirl."
"Ummfhhhdgh!" You stammer, hastily looking away to pretend you weren't. You drum your fingers on the table, shifting around on your seat to distract yourself from Yves's eyes.
"Uh-uh, you don't get to hide now." Yves tilts your chin up with her finger, her eyes locked onto yours, her lips inches from yours. This is the umpteenth time Yves has had you in kissing range, and you wish she'd finish the job.
"You look starstruck, babe. Am I that pretty?"
"Y-Yes."
Yves chuckles, stroking your cheek with her thumb.
"God, you're so cute. I'd kiss you right now, but we both know we'd do more than that."
"Wha—?"
"I've seen the way you look at me. I know what you're thinking. If we kiss…" Yves trails off, moving to finish her sentence next to your ear.
"If we kiss, we both know we won't just be kissing at the end of the night."
When Yves finishes her sentence, you feel her soft lips press against your cheek. Out of the corner of your eye, you see her lips turn up in her signature cocky smirk. You’ve got the urge to kiss it off her face, but you pause, refusing to give in to her. She is right—if you kissed her, you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from jumping her.
-----
Dinner is a relatively quiet affair, with Yves winking at you when you catch eyes with her, and you becoming more flustered each time. All you can think of is about how Yves essentially admitted she knows you want her as much as she wants you, and that thought is enough to fuel your imagination for the night.
When Yves drops you off in front of your apartment, she gets off her bike, wrapping her arms around your waist from the back.
"Huh?!"
"Goodnight babygirl," Yves whispers next to your ear, her breath causing you to shudder, "I'll be thinking of you tonight."
That settles it. The fire between your legs needs some dousing. You can't help but turn to look at Yves with the utmost shock, meeting her knowing grin. Yves waves, putting her helmet back on and riding off into the night.
-----
The cold shower you take after reaching home does nothing for you. Yves's words still ring deep in your ear.
If we kiss, we both know we won't just be kissing at the end of the night.
I'll be thinking of you tonight.
Your body feels warm—too warm for the oversized T-shirt and boyshorts you have on. The thought of having Yves pin you against a wall, her lips on yours, tongue swiping at your lips to gain access is way too much for you, and soon enough, you imagine Yves pinning you to her bed, stripping you and teasing you with her touch. These thoughts lead you to lie atop your bed, your shirt pulled up to expose your chest, your boyshorts stripped off to let your hand circle your clit freely.
"Oh, fuck…"
In your head, Yves has her fingers on you, touching you the same way you touch yourself now. Her fingers mirror the way yours do—rubbing directly over the hood covering your clit, before swiping between your slit to wet her fingers.
"So wet, babygirl. All for me too."
"Oh, oh shit!"
Yves plunges her fingers deep within you, thrusting freely. Your free hand kneads your left breast, teasing your nipple to drive you crazier.
"Fuck, Yves, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"
"Yes, babygirl. That's what I want to hear. Moan my name. Let the world know how wet you are for me."
The dirty sounds of your fingers thrusting deep into yourself only fuels your lust even further. The image in your head morphs from Yves fingering you to her between your legs, her panties pushed aside to expose her pussy. Yves pushes her pussy against yours, grinding against you, flexing her abs with each movement of her hips. In the physical world, you strip yourself of the shirt, grabbing a pillow and straddling it.
"How does my pussy feel against yours, babygirl? I told you I'd make you love me."
You grind harshly on the pillow. The haze of pleasure is all you can process—how loud you moan doesn't matter anymore.
"Fuck, yes, Yves, Yves, Yves, fuck, Sooyoung, Sooyoung, I'm gonna come, Sooyoung, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come!"
With a squeal, you grind harder on the pillow, feeling waves of pleasure wash over your body as slick spills out of your clenching hole. Sweat runs down your forehead, your back, down your chest. In your head, Yves comes just as you do, her body writhing in pleasure as slick flows out of her.
You collapse on the bed, letting the afterglow of your orgasm wash over you. Yves still doesn't leave your head, but you don't really hate that. You're way beyond trying to hide that you want to fuck her, or that you want her to make you hers anyway.
#kpop fanfiction#kpop smut#kpop fanfic#kpop fluff#loona fanfiction#loona fanfic#ha sooyoung#loona yves#smut#female reader#female reader insert
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boneless wings
(T!)
word count: ~1.6k
You’re feeling shitty and Keigo is more than willing to help you out.
just a short little thing. just tooth rotting fluff, soft keigo, very sweet, nice. nesting fic with avian hawks. enjoy a soft, feel good piece.
enjoy a feel good piece y’all ;^)
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Sometimes, you just have shitty days. It’s just a fact of living and breathing, somedays just fucking suck and it’s just how it is. You knew this. You were well aware.
And, you were having one.
The weird, gluey feeling in your chest didn’t go away, no matter what you did. You tried the kitschy self-care that those online magazines recommended. Yoga, face masks, drinking fucking water—
None of it worked, so you gave up, opting to nest in your living room. You padded it with pillows, blankets, and a few plushies. You didn’t much feel like eating, mouth dry despite the extra water you had chugged in desperation.
You resigned yourself to riding out your nastiness, ambiently watching TV with half-lidded eyes. The constant pattering of drizzling rain relaxed you, but the gray sky it brought with it was hardly welcome.
Your phone rang in the early evening, pulling you from your stupor.
You answered without checking the caller ID, “Hello?”
“Angel!” Keigo’s voice was like sunshine through the phone. “Have you eaten? I found a great street vendor that I want to take you to. You down?”
You sighed into the receiving, nestling in your blankets. You weren’t up for much moving.
“I’m sorry, Kei’,” You hated how weak your voice sounded. “I’m not feeling so hot. I think I’m staying in for the day.”
You could hear his frown through the phone, “Aww, babe! Why didn’t you tell me? I’ll bring you some soup! Maybe dumplings, if you’re feeling that.”
“No, love, it’s not that kind of sick,” You rubbed at your eyes.
Keigo had made it very clear early in your relationship that for all of the hoops and secrecy you had to jump through for him, he wanted to be more than there for you. He was insanely nice and supportive if you let him.
Especially on your shitty days, you struggled to tell him how rotten you were feeling.
“Dove,” His voice was so sweet from the phone, worming its way through your depressive haze. “You want me to come over? Snuggle you a little, order in some food you like? You know I’m here for you, (Y/N).”
You swallowed, rubbing at the wetness around your waterline, “I don’t wanna trouble you, ‘Kei, you know that.”
“Now I gotta come over, Dove. You’re never trouble. Guess I gotta show you.”
“Keigo—”
He hung up before you could argue.
Though, you did receive a text shortly after.
[heart eyes chicken wing]: i’ll be over in 30, okay?
[heart eyes chicken wing]: i’m gonna kiss u so much
[heart eyes chicken wing]: you want me to stay over? i’m the big spoon 4 u ALL NIGHT!!
[heart eyes chicken wing]: i love u so much dove!!!
You swallowed, rubbing at your tears. Sure, Keigo was a bit overbearing. He was actually pretty new to the whole ‘dating’ thing, but he really tried. And on your shitty days, it did feel better to have someone close.
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Keigo arrived a half an hour later, knocking on your balcony door.
You hauled yourself from your nest, quickly dodging to the bathroom to grab him a towel for his wings.
Padding to the door, you unlocked and slid it open, stepping aside for Keigo and only looking at the ground. You handed the towel to which he thanked you promptly. There was a bag in his hand that was dropped to the ground, a bit damp from the mist outside.
Standing next to him, you felt a little pathetic, to say the least. Standing in front of him in nothing but sweats and an oversized sweater, eyes scratchy with old tears, and a mess of unattended hair.
“Oh, baby,” Keigo’s voice was so empathetically sad, it made your own chest ache.
You finally looked up, just as Keigo cupped your face, leaning down the slightest bit to pepper your face with kisses.
“H-hey, stop that,” You stuttered, unable to stop the fluttery feeling cracking in your chest, a little ray of warmth through the rot. “You’re too nice.”
“Nope,” Keigo dropped a kiss on the tip of your nose, pulling him into you by your waist to hug you as tightly as he could. “I’m not nice enough. You deserve the world, you know.”
“So you tell me,” You mumble against his chest, locking your arms around his neck and settling against his neck for a moment.
Keigo let you rest against him, a birdlike cooing vibrating cutely from the back of his throat as he rubbed your lower back with his thumbs.
“Thanks for coming by, Kei’. I love you,” It was in a small voice, but it was something.
“I love you too.” Keigo nuzzled into the side of your head, pressing a wet kiss to your temple. “And, of course. Anytime. Also, I brought you a little treat.”
You pulled away a little, just to eye the bag he’d dropped when he’d arrived, “Dinner?”
“Hmmm, no, but we’ll get that too,” Keigo left the embrace, but slipped your palms together. “I thought it might be nice for your bad days. It’s kind of heavy, though.”
You cocked your head to the side as he passed you the bag, topped with pastel tissue paper. Pulling it away, your eyebrows rose.
Inside, was a blanket, heavy in the bag.
“It’s a weighted blanket! Rumi was talking about how helpful they are for Fuyumi when she gets anxious, and I figured it might help you too,” Keigo beamed at you as you looked in the bag.
You were very fragile that day, and small kindnesses hit a little harder than you wanted to admit.
Your arms wrapped around his neck again, blanket dropped to the ground as you hid your damp face in Keigo’s neck.
“Thank you,” You pressed into his neck as he rubbed at your sides. “A lot.”
He squeezed you, smothering your messy hair with kiss after kiss, “Of course, dove. Anything to help you out. Now, dinner? Anything. You name it.”
...
Keigo ordered in your favorite comfort food, more than happy to make the phone call to the place for delivery.
The moment he hung up, he was eyeing your ‘nest’ on the floor.
“Uh, babe, what’s all that?” He jerked his head towards the mass on the floor.
The embarrassment in your gut stung, “It’s... I guess a nest... It’s kind of dumb, I’m sorry.”
“Hey, silly,” Keigo was on you in an instant, kissing your forehead and dragging you into him. “Don’t apologize. One, it looks comfy as hell. Two, I’m bird adjacent, and the idea of you making a nest that I can now snuggle with you in makes me like, cuddle horny.”
You snorted a laugh out, the filthy feeling your gut dulling, “Nesting turns you on?”
“Like, in a cute way,” Keigo smiled down with his honeyed eyes. He dragged you over to the nest, falling into the piles of blankets and pillows. “Like, I want to wrap you up in my wings and kiss you until you fall asleep, kind of horny.”
“Ohhh, I see,” You smirk down as he cutely adjusted the softness around his feathers, a cluster of the downy ones from the base of his wings falling around the nest. “What are those doing?”
“Gotta claim it, bird stuff,” He huffed while papping his hands on a pillow. “Get down here, dove. This nest isn’t complete without you in it, you know.”
It was a little silly, Keigo’s avian doings, but it was also very endearing to see him like this. Both he and you were being particularly vulnerable, and though you felt pretty raw, it also felt nice. Very nice.
“Oh, wait!” Keigo piped up as you fell to your knees on a soft comforter.
One of his feathers shot off, then three more, bringing the new, weighted blanket over to you and Keigo’s nest. It fell into your lap.
You carefully unfurled it as Keigo idly told you about his day, knowing all too well how it was harder for you to talk when you weren’t feeling well. You appreciated the gesture, a bit of tension rolling from your shoulders as you fully unwrapped the blanket.
As you did, Keigo plopped into the perfect nest he made, wings perfectly poised behind him.
You followed his movement, scooted closer to him. Keigo wasted no time urging your back to his chest, wrapping you the two of you up in one of his wings. The warm scent of the oil he rubbed on them instantly lulled you, eye going half-lidded. Keigo giggled, watching your sleepy reaction. He knew how to get you boneless without a single touch (in more ways than one).
He stretched for the new blanket, pulling it over the two of you, sighing at its weight, “Oh, I get it now.”
The blanket weighed down on your body, thoroughly pleasantly. The pressure lulled you even more, Keigo’s heat and steady breath only adding to your increasingly lax state.
“Like it, dove?” Keigo asked, lightly laughing as he swept a bit hair from your face. He adjusted a pillow under your head, the arm thrown over your waist drifting chastely to under your sweater to rub circles on your hips.
“Mhm, it’s really nice,” You let your eyes shut. “I’m getting a little sleepy already.”
Keigo hummed, kissing the crown of your head, a happy chirp echoing his chest, “Good, I’m glad. Very glad. You rest if you need to, angel.”
You felt your eyes well with tears at his unabashed kindness. It was so earnest with him sometimes, it was overwhelming.
Turning, you pressed your front to him, nestling yourself against his neck, softening as light coos rolled from Keigo’s throat, just up against your ear.
You fell into a light, but calm sleep, happily. Keigo with his avian quirks, worn hands, and sweetest nothings, helped bear the burden of your bad day, happy to fall with you into your new nest.
(Keigo would have to convince you to make a permanent one, but with how easily you unwound and settled in this one, he didn’t think it would take much.)
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taglist: @sinclairsamess
#salem writes#drabble#ish??#u know i have the ll chapter to edit and its almost 4 am but enjoy some fluff#hawks x reader#hawks x y/n#takami keigo x reader#takami keigo x y/n#mha x reader#hawks fluff#takami keigo fluff#takami x reader#hawks x you
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Nightcap - Harry Styles one shot
a/n: hello again I'm back with another one shot and this time it's bouncer!h which I'm so excited for!! I wasn't going to post this yet, but seeing as I won't get the next chapter of my fwb series out tomorrow I thought I'd give you this :)) If you like it, please like and reblog and also message me if you want to talk about bouncer!h or any of my other fics, enjoy xx (also I had no idea what to call this fic so ended up with nightcap but i don’t think i like it)
Pairing: Bouncer!h + y/n
Warnings: Language, alcohol, smut, mutual pining
Word count: 6k
Summer was over and junior year was right around the corner. Starting it off with a bang, y/n and her friends decided to go to Mike’s after pre-gaming, ending up pretty tipsy before heading out. The line wasn’t too bad, but it was clear a lot of college kids coming back this weekend had the same idea as you had. It was still warm outside and y/n had her favorite leather skirt on (knowing she’d regret the decision when she’s sweating on the dancefloor) and an off the shoulder ruffled white top. Thankfully she went with a pair of comfortable but trendy sneakers knowing she would most likely end up walking home after dancing the night away.
The group found themselves at the front of the line after only five minutes and y/n flicked through her little purse hanging off her shoulder to find her ID. When she found it her eyes went straight to the bouncer standing in a pair of tight black jeans and a t-shirt with the bar’s logo to the right along with a flashlight in his hand so he would be able to see the ID’s easier. His face wasn’t clear to see from the way he was looking down at someone else’s ID, but she could tell his face was clean from any stubble. She didn’t know how old - or young - he was, but nevertheless she was attracted to him.
When the person in front of her got checked y/n was already raising her hand to hand him her ID. It didn’t seem as if he’d noticed her in the line as his brows raised slightly before he caught himself and showed her a tight-lipped smile. He quickly took a look at the ID in hand before handing it back and letting her pass him with another small smile. No words exchanged between the two except the handful of shy, awkward smiles. Y/n had heard him say ‘thank you’ or ‘next’ so she took it that he was a bit too shy to get words out in case he’d fuck up before he could actually do something - just like her.
Y/n hadn’t managed to get him off her mind for the remainder of the night, continuously sneaking looks behind her to see if he was walking past or standing in the doorway. More often than not she couldn’t get a glance of him before he walked outside again to handle the line of people wanting to get inside before they close just to grab a beer or a couple shots before going home to someone for an afterparty.
Harry had himself been darting his eyes to where she had been sitting most of the night whenever he went to the toilet or changed assignments with other bouncers to check on how it’s going inside. Before she could catch him in his staring - caring more about making sure her silhouette will stick to his mind than kicking out the overly drunk people - he turned around to hide behind a wall or go outside again. He didn’t have the confidence to know she was looking back or to do anything about it if she caught him, instead wanting to hide from it - her.
The night was over for y/n around two in the morning, wanting nothing more than to go home and heat up the leftover pizza from her dinner and jump in the shower to wash off the sweat she’d worked up to while dancing. What happened wasn’t much different from her wishes, except for what happened in the shower. She was unable to get the bouncer off her mind, replaying her thoughts of how good he looked when she first saw him at the front of the line along with the smile he gave her. It led to her bringing her favorite dildo with a suction cup in the shower, attaching it to the wall so she could pretend she was getting pounded from the back - by the bouncer.
A month later Mike’s was the regular spot for y/n and her friends on every Tuesday - since there were no classes on Wednesdays - and Saturday - the usual party night. Harry worked almost every time they were there and after the third time of checking y/n’s ID he now let her walk straight inside the bar - her friends still had to show their ID though. He always gave her a smile while showing her she could go inside by moving his arm towards the door - y/n always saying a small ‘thank you’ with her smile getting bigger for every time he led her inside.
She badly wanted to catch his attention and get a conversation started, though not having a clue what to even say, ‘Hi, would you wanna go home with me?’. It would not only be embarrassing for her if she got turned down, but she also wouldn’t be able to show her face at Mike’s again. Maybe it’s a good thing she hasn’t made contact, not knowing how he is. Yes, she’d love a fuck, but not from a fuckboy who gets around with a different girl every weekend.
Weeks later October was in full swing and y/n was getting frustrated with how she and the bouncer - who she now knows as Harry after finally getting the courage to ask him what his name was just last week after downing a good couple vodka redbulls - still hadn’t gotten anywhere. Not that she knows he wants the same as her at all, but with how they act towards each other - smiles that have escalated to smirks and grins over time, small hi’s and how are you’s when they walk past each other during the night.
The third Tuesday of the month y/n was at the bar like usual with her friends. She had gone to the bar to order another beer and Harry slowly walked over when he saw her standing alone, wanting to spike a conversation though unsure of what he’d actually say. In his mind she was out of his league - a gorgeous figure with hips even he was jealous of, a university student (he’d figured out when she accidentally showed him her uni ID instead of her license the second time she went there), a tight knit group of friends she seemed close with and the most alluring and seductive shiny blue eyes he’s ever seen.
She didn’t seem like the type to be interested in a twenty-five year old bouncer who still doesn’t quite know what to actually do with his degree and lives in his parents basement. It’s not like he’s never moved out, but after a year out of uni and still not happy with his choice in career, he decided it was best to move back home and get a job there while figuring his life out. After three years he still isn’t sure where his life is taking him, but he’s sure it could be a lot worse.
Y/n noticed him creeping up beside her in the corner of her eye and thought this might be the one chance she had to get to know him and had to let go of her own insecurities about him not actually being interested. He’s been avoiding her it seems like for the past two months, only opening up the tiniest bit since the first small smile she got that august night so she wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t want to get to know her, or fuck - which to be honest was most of what she was interested in.
“Hi stranger.” She was hoping for a smile back at least - maybe more if he felt courageous - but something in her told her she’d get more. Only a second later she got her answer.
“I guess we are strangers, with the exception that I know your birthday.” He saw the clear surprise on her face; was it from him replying in a full sentence or him remembering her birthday after only looking at her ID not even a handful of times? He wasn’t sure. Letting out a silent laugh before letting go of the shock of his sort of joke she took a sip of her beer as she pondered how she could respond with the hint that she wanted to get to know him a little bit at least.
“You want to grab a beer with me when your shift is over? We can play truth or truth.” She didn’t know how he’d react to her wanting to talk to him on what might seem a personal level. Hopefully he’d accept the offer and tell her he’d be back soon.
“Sure. If you want to meet here again in twenty I should be off the clock.” His smile was encouraging and it excited you that the first step was taken. If he only wanted their maybe coming relationship to be friendly then she’d deal, but there is no way she would be the one to turn him down.
Y/n nodded. They stared at each other intensely for a long time, their eyes locking and smiles couldn’t be fought off their faces as he started walking backwards until he finally broke contact and turned around going back to work. She was thrilled to have finally made contact, unsure of who to say took the first step really and eager to see him in a casual way when he’s not working, though they’re still at the place he works. Surely everyone knows him here and that made her sort of intimidated. They couldn’t run off or be completely alone because there would always be someone keeping their eye on him - other bouncers or bartenders.
Her friends had decided to call it a night only a couple minutes before she were to meet Harry again, so she found a stool at the bar and ordered two beers for them to indulge when he got back. The beers were sat in front of her only seconds before Harry made himself known with a soft hand to her shoulder. Turning around to get a look at who touched her, she was pleasantly surprised - Harry stood in his work clothes still and she didn’t quite know if she liked it or if she had hoped he’d wear something else. She was glad his arms were showing still, the tattoos a major part of what had her attracted to him in the first place.
From the moment Harry got a beer in him he seemed more relaxed and she even managed to get a boisterous laughter out of him once when she told him about a childhood story. Y/n found that his personality made her more attracted and interested in who this man was, hoping for a ‘yes’ when she asked if he’d like to come home with her.
She hadn’t had sex in a long time, knowing it would be useless when she wasn’t attracted to anyone. They wouldn’t make her cum and she would end up having to fake it. After a couple of times it got old and she figured making herself cum was fine until she found someone she liked. Harry was much like y/n in that aspect, though his last time wasn’t as long ago - more like a month compared to y/n’s eight. Neither spoke about it on the short walk home, their fingers connected as if they were a couple who had been on a date that went a little too far into the night. She told him her apartment might be a little messy as she hadn’t found a good outfit right away - to which Harry retaliates with a ‘you’ve looked amazing every time I’ve seen you at the bar’.
They hadn’t actually spent more than five minutes at the bar - enough to finish their beers - before heading out. It was clear they had the same intentions from when he said yes to coming home with her at three in the morning to when he connected their lips right as he heard the front door shut. Y/n couldn’t help but moan at the impact of her back hitting the door and his lips working hers with a fervor she’d never experienced before.
If the way his lips worked and his hands groped just the right places had anything to say for how he’d work in the bed, she wouldn’t have any complaints. Heavy breathing and moans from the both of them were loud before they got to her bed, laying her down beneath him and pulling her jeans down her legs while she pulled his shirt off him. They didn’t spend much time getting to know each other's bodies, but enough to figure out what the other liked and disliked. Harry found the spot between her neck and ear she mewled from when he kissed and y/n; the spot right beneath the laurels tattooed on his skin he shuddered from when she lightly grazed before reaching further down.
When he finally slid into her she arched her back and he closed his eyes trying to keep from busting already. It was quick and hasty and intense but they silently agreed that it was incredible and when they both came and it was over round two and three weren’t far between. There was no question of staying the night, y/n only lifting the sheets up and dragging him with her.
Y/n woke up to an empty bed - there was no Harry beside her or holding her like he had been when they fell asleep early in the morning. If this was a romance novel there might’ve been a note saying sorry for leaving her on ther fridge or something along those lines, but there was nothing. Almost like he wanted to forget it happened, but she couldn’t know what went through his mind at the time. It wasn’t like she could be angry or upset by him leaving without word either, not knowing him too well or having any relation to him except knowing him as a bouncer at her favorite bar.
Though what Harry did was a dick move, she didn’t want to tell anyone about their night (or morning), it was her memory to have alone. Part of it was because she knew they’d all see him again and there was no reason for her friends - or her - to be malicious towards him. From the small conversations she’s had with him and how shy he originally was, there is no way he had intentions to make her feel small. Or he put on a front for her to make her think he’s a good guy.
Y/n soon finds out there’s no reason to dwell on the subject, instead putting her head in a book to give herself away to a fantasy world where everything seems to be a little too perfect for her liking. Sure, she enjoys reading about a perfect world, but in the end she could never imagine it being her life. With her over-the-top parents and siblings that she barely speaks to; she’s glad she’s made it to university where she can care for herself only (and her friends, but mainly herself).
****
After two weeks away from Mike’s, y/n is back with her friends, ready to get so far gone she won’t remember how she got home. Yes, it’s been one of those weeks for her - absolutely awful with a breakdown over midterms at least once every day. Already having had a few beers at home, she was starting to feel it when they got to the line. She wasn’t trying to look for if Harry was standing at the front checking ID’s like she normally would do. Tonight was about letting loose and having fun with her friends - if Harry wanted to talk he could initiate it.
Harry wasn’t at the front of the line ready to let her through without seeing her ID, just like every other time, this time it was someone new who looked at every single ID for a little longer than necessary y/n thought. Finally getting inside the bar, they grabbed the closest table to the bar that wasn’t already occupied.
Our first round of drinks that consisted of cocktails, beers and shots for everyone was quickly over. Most of them downed the shot before our drink of choice wanting to get smashed as quickly as possible making the night end rather quickly (with some of the group getting kicked out most likely). The group weren’t known to get kicked out, but when they had the mindset of getting absolutely plastered it was definitely happening. Y/n hoped Harry wouldn’t see it if it ended up being her getting told to leave - if he was there that is.
Hours later the clock had barely hit midnight and y/n had taken one shot too much for her to be sane any longer. Her thoughts of leaving Harry alone and making him be the one to contact her if he wanted went out the window and she was on a mission to get him alone - mostly to ask if he’d wanna come home with her again because she was horny. In times where she was this horny there was no way she wouldn’t do anything about it, either finding a man to satisfy her (which seldom happened) or getting her toys out to make her come (which always worked).
She had seen Harry doing his round to check if anyone needed a talking to or get kicked out not too long ago and she hoped he was still walking the floor as it’s much harder to get him to herself if he’s checking ID’s. She pretended to walk towards the toilets but her eyes didn’t stop flickering about to see if Harry was in sight hoping to catch his curls above everyone dancing.
If she’s being honest, it wasn’t hard noticing him - hands in his pockets and brows furrowed in concentration to see if everyone is still doing alright - standing by the lower left corner, only a few meters from the toilets. She walked toward him with determination and it was easy doing so because he hadn’t noticed her yet and it was clear her liquid courage was helping some.
“So.. were you going to talk to me?” Harry only noticed her when she started talking, way too distracted by looking at the people on the dancefloor. It didn’t necessarily surprise him that she took initiative to talk to him and to be quite frank, he wasn’t sure he had the nerve to start up a conversation with her. Of course, he wanted to talk to her to explain why he left her the morning after they had sex, but after she didn’t show up at the club for two weeks he thought she was angry with him. Maybe she still is and he is not one for confrontation.
“I was going to, but then you didn’t show up here for a while so I thought you didn’t want to talk.” He forced his eyes to stay on hers while waiting for her to say something. It was nerve wracking, but if they were to continue bumping into each other at the club he didn’t want there to be any conflict between them - no matter how big or small it is.
“I’m not mad, just wanted to get everything out in the open I guess. I mean, I get that we were just hooking up, trust me I’m not looking to date you, but it’d be nice to have some mutual agreement even if it was a one time thing or if it happens again - which I won’t be opposed to if I’m honest.” The wicked smile on her lips told him she was thinking back to that night just over two weeks ago where their bodies touched and longed for the others. It was a good fuck, he admits as he, too, thought back to their night spent together in her bed.
“Okay. If you want to wait until I’m done at around two we can do a repeat of it?” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them, eyes widening at the forwardness he usually doesn’t have (especially not with pretty girls). Y/n only nods his way before leaving him alone to grab another drink with her friends. He had a hope that she wouldn’t drink too much so she would still be able to go through with their unspoken plans for the night.
Harry was holding y/n up by her thighs, fucking into her against the wall in her living room. She wasn’t holding back letting him know how much she liked what he was doing and it wouldn’t surprise her if the moans and high pitched sounds she was making could be heard outside her apartment. In the moment she didn’t exactly care about letting people know she was having the time of her life; getting fucked by someone she was attracted to and who was - in some insane way - better than her dildo. That much was clear after the first night they shared together and she could only hope he had the same thoughts about her.
They had left the bar hours ago heading straight to her apartment. Clothes were tugged off and strewn across the floor and their naked bodies worked perfectly together to please the other. It was as if they were made to please each other, Harry knowing exactly what to do to make her feel good and he wasn’t afraid of asking what she wanted or needed. Y/n was (in Harry’s eyes) an expert on giving blowjobs - sucking him off like she could read his mind thinking about everything he liked. Her tongue skillfully dragged downwards on his cock to suck his balls while her hand continued its motion up and down, her thumb circling on his head. He was in heaven and had to pull her off before he’d shoot his load in her mouth before he could get a taste of her.
Over the next two months they continued hooking up - usually after Harry ended his shifts at the bar and y/n was more than ready to get out. Her friends knew something was up between them after the third time not leaving when they left. The fact that she was eyeing him every time he passed them was a dead giveaway, too, as she isn’t normally one to give guys ‘the eye’. They hadn’t brought it up or told her they knew after Caleb caught them making out in one of the back corners. Though Harry was embarrassed to have been caught doing something he probably shouldn’t have been doing while at work, Caleb only laughed and whipped around to walk back to their group. Y/n had told him it was fine and they wouldn’t care, but he quite clearly noticed the whole group would stare at him when he was close over the next few weeks. It was uncomfortable for him, but he came to terms with it knowing what they were actually doing was private and between only the two of them.
They had gotten to know each others bodies - what they respond to and how to tell they’re about to cum - over the time they spent together. Though they never extended their time with each other, always keeping it to going home - mostly to y/n’s place except if Harry’s parents are gone - and fucking. If it’s only one round or the whole night depended on if they were doing things the next day, but there had only been a handful of times they kept to one round. One of them always managed to keep the other going for at least another round which then turns into hours of them enjoying each other.
Y/n was asleep when Harry called her; his shift at Mike’s was over and he wanted nothing more than to see y/n. He knew she wasn’t at the bar as he would’ve seen her either in line or inside, probably trying to sneak off somewhere secluded to make out during his break. It had become a regular thing for them to sneak off suddenly, her friends understanding she was with Harry if they couldn’t see her. Y/n felt as if there were magnets pulling them together, not able to withstand the urge to be with him. She never thought of it to be anything more than what it is - he is the best she’s had and she doesn’t want to let go of it any time soon.
Harry on the other hand was starting to think what if there is a reason behind them not being able to keep away from each other for more than a couple of days? Christmas break was just around the corner and he knew y/n would be gone for almost a month and he wanted to see her as much as time allowed them to before she left to go to the other side of the country. He knew time would pass slowly when he had two weeks off work and she was gone. Sure, spending time with his family and friends is nice and all, but to be quite frank he’d rather spend it in bed with y/n.
When y/n finally answered her phone Harry didn’t even give her time to say hello before asking if he could come over to which she of course said yes. He always wonders if his parents notice him not coming home from work until early morning or after breakfast. He’s sure they do because his car isn’t in the driveway and they’ve told him they hear when he opens and locks the door at night. Right now though, he couldn’t care less about his parents having questions, all he wanted was to bury himself in y/n making her moan out in ecstasy.
Y/n will be the first to admit that he did just that. He had her writhing beneath him, shaking from the multiple orgasms he gave her, screaming so loud the neighbors might be worried for her safety and the smile so wide on her lips didn’t fall once. She was happy to let him take her for the rest of the night into the morning, hopefully leaving giving a smack to her ass just like she enjoys in the bed. Harry knew this and whenever she wanted him to give it to her on her stomach he smacked her asscheeks till they turned red and his handprints were visible. It wasn’t unknown between the two that he reveled in it, too, saving the image for whenever he couldn’t have her and had to revert to his hand.
“I want you to cum on my ass, please.” Y/n was as carefree in bed as she was out, never scared to tell him what she needed or ask him to change it up. Harry on the other hand, was still holding back a bit, the introvert in him hesitant to do anything in case he would mess something up. Y/n could tell he was coming out of his shell more as time went on and they continued hooking up, sometimes taking the reins and telling her exactly what he wanted or needed to get off. She remembered one specific time she gave him a blowjob he voiced his needs and she grinned at him so wide until he came in her mouth - You’re going to keep your hands behind your back until I’m close and then you’re going to swallow my cum.
Harry didn’t hesitate to pull out and have her turn around to lay on her stomach, she bucked her hips up against his cock in anticipation for what he’d do. She knew he loved her ass, always grabbing onto it when they were making out, she was riding him, or when she was on her stomach for him. His hands found their way to her cheeks, grabbing one in each hand and spreading them to ease into her.
It was six-thirty in the morning and it didn’t surprise them that they had been fucking on and off for almost four hours as it happened most times they met. Maybe they should be worried they’re fucking too much and becoming addicted to each other, but honestly Harry thinks that ship has sailed a long time ago. He was addicted to her but there is no way he’d ever tell y/n.
****
A month later and Christmas break was coming to an end. Y/n had spent most of her time away thinking about Harry. It had been lonesome without him. She was used to seeing him a couple days a week at least and now they hadn’t spoken a word to each other over the break. Really, it wasn’t that weird, because they never texted or called about anything except if Harry’s working or if he could come over. It was quite clear they weren’t friends as they didn’t know anything except surface things about each other. Y/n thinks maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if they did become friends..
Harry himself had tried his hardest to keep y/n out of his head, only ending up with a hard on whenever he thought of her too long and having to leave the party to take care of himself. It was almost embarrassing having a crush on someone who continuously made him feel like a boy in middle school by getting boners whenever he couldn’t keep her out of his mind. He would never tell anyone about what they had been doing for the last few months, too shy to even talk about his sex life with his friends, but if this is how it’s going to continue he needs to at least grow some balls and talk to y/n.
Sure, he wasn’t opposed to continuing hooking up with her without talking about his possible feelings, but in the long run he knew it’d only hurt him more than making him happy. Even just hanging out without doing anything sexual would please him, getting to know her on a friendly level. Staying the night and being able to pull her closer to him and place a kiss on her temple before falling asleep spooning after fucking her raw would make him feel better about it than what they’re doing now - sleeping on opposite sides of the bed pretending to not know the other is there.
He’s been thinking that he’s using y/n for what she seems so happy to give him, but it has to be like that for her as well, he thought. She has to know they’ve been using each other and there might be a chance it would lead to something more for at least one of them, if not both, but Harry doesn’t want to be miserable if she doesn’t reciprocate his thoughts or feelings. Deciding it’s not worth dwelling over without talking to her first, he gets in his car and drives over to her place knowing she had come home earlier that day.
He stood outside her apartment door for some minutes to collect himself and know that being honest with her is what’s best for the both of them even if it goes sideways. The fact he was about to see her - and possibly fuck her - again after a month of nothing was also nerve-wracking.
There was no better time than the present and y/n opened the door only seconds after Harry knocked. With a lovely smile on her face and glowing eyes, it looked like she had needed the time away to relax and get back into her groove before the new semester. He couldn’t help but smile back, thinking about how he doesn’t ever want her smile to fade.
It didn’t surprise him that when he got inside and closed the door behind him she pulled him in for a kiss, already clawing at his jacket to get it off. Of course, Harry wanted nothing more than to give in to her lips and soft hands and continue until all their clothes were off and he could see the naked body he’d been dreaming about, but he had to talk to her first. He pushed her hands off of him and moved to create the smallest bit of space, not wanting her to think something’s wrong.
“Sorry.. I just have something to get off my chest if that’s alright?” Harry’s heart was beating a million miles an hour and y/n’s wasn’t far from that either. Immediately she came to the conclusion that he didn’t want to hook up anymore and she wouldn’t have the chance to get to know him like she decided she wanted to while she was away. It’s obvious they couldn’t keep playing games for forever, but she liked what they had going on - though she imagines she wouldn’t hate it if they were more than acquaintances. Hanging out a little longer, getting to know each other - more than knowing their favorite positions at least - and cuddling before going to bed. It didn’t sound awful.
“I’ve missed you over the past month, y/n.” She looked up at him, not meeting his eyes as they were fleeting all over the place not knowing where to place them. He certainly wasn’t confident enough in himself to place his eyes on hers, though he saw her wanting them to meet so she could be sure he wasn’t speaking nonsense. “You know I’m not good at speaking up, but I couldn’t keep this to myself as it concerns you as well. It’s alright if you don’t want to grow our acquaintanceship, but please don’t string me along.”
There was clear vulnerability in his quavering voice and y/n found it admirable how Harry had the courage to talk to her about his feelings, unlike her who was planning on keeping her thoughts to herself, for the time being at least. Now though, there is nothing keeping her from letting him know how she couldn’t want anything more than to advance their relationship to something more to see how compatible they are. They barely know each other and it might be a miss, but they owe it to themselves to at least try.
As Harry still wasn’t looking at her, he couldn’t see the smile getting wider by time. Y/n brought her hand up to his chin to guide his head in her direction. Closing the space between them, she put her lips on his, placing a delicate kiss on his lips - quite unlike the kisses they normally share.
“I missed you too, Harry.” He enclosed his arms around her waist, bringing her as close to him as he could without squeezing her too hard. She heard him sigh into her neck, content with how the conversation went, she presumed.
For the rest of the evening, they laid in her bed talking and getting to know each other, in more ways than one. It was intimate - like nothing Harry had ever experienced before - and when night came there was no way they would separate. Though y/n still had a week left before college started up again, Harry had work and it was clear they wouldn’t be able to spend that much time together. Tonight was their only night together before it was time to get back to reality, which is why she decided to go home with Harry. She’d only been there a handful of times over the course of their months hooking up, mostly because he didn’t want his parents to get in his business. It didn’t really matter this time, only caring about spending time together.
****
Hope you enjoyed my take on bouncer!h and I’d appreciate it if you reblogged to get my writing out <3
Last fic: FWB series chapter 1, chapter 2
#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fluff#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles smut#harry styles angst#harry styles ff#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fiction#harry styles writing#harry styles x reader#harry styles x oc#harry styles x y/n#writing
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The Two Times You Ended Up In His Room, And The One Time He Ended Up In Yours | Poe Dameron
Summary: You and Poe are both x-wing pilots and you have both been mutually pining for each other for a long while. Things finally come to a head when you end up in his room one night on accident. [tw: PTSD discussion] [Set before films? but non specific] [established friendship] [mutual pining] [fluff] [established nickname]
Word Count: 5k
|Masterlist In Bio|
The first time you end up in Poe's room it's an accident. It is well past midnight and you're trying to avoid the guard who always flirts with you. He's really creepy and you just want to go for a walk around base to clear your head. Things have been tense and you just want a moment to breathe. Unfortunately you have absolutely no luck and you run into the aforementioned guard. His name is Karik. How could you forget, he tells you every single time you see him.
You turn down a hall toward the command center and there he is. He raises his hand and greets you like an old friend and you do nothing of the sort in return. Instead you turn around and go to the closest door, scan your all access ID and go in. You have no idea who to expect inside but you don't care. Explaining your issue will be easier to deal with than Karik.
In the low light of the bedroom you can make out an orange flight suit in the corner, a body on the bed with their back to you and a droid in the corner powered down. The droid is the dead giveaway. It's BB8. That means the man on the bed is Poe Dameron.
As if you had said his name out loud, he rolls over and flips on a small wall lamp beside the bed. He's topless, hair a dark curly mess, the gold chain with small ID tags he always wears glints in the light. Stars above, he is a sight to see. "Hello?" He asks sleepily, rubbing his eyes and making sure you're actually there. "Jumper is that you?"
Jumper. The nickname you earned from the x-wing pilots just over a year ago when your x-wing was going down and you emergency evacuated on a planet you had no knowledge of. You knew two things. Die in a fiery crash with the x-wing or possibly survive the fall on to the unknown planet and keep fighting with the resistance, but also possibly die upon impact. Obviously you survived. Broken and battered you landed in quicksand. It was Poe who rescued you only minutes after you landed. He had seen the x-wing go down and went to find you, or better yet, your body to bring back your ID tags. When he found you alive he was shocked. If he hadn't come after you, you'd have died in that quicksand, unable to move and sinking slowly. Truly you owe this man your life.
"Yeah, hey Poe." You chuckle nervously. Maybe explaining your sudden intrusion wouldn't be easier than dealing with Karik. Because of course it's Poe and he's your friend, and of course he's your commander too but on top of all of that you've got a massive crush on him. Like, you’re basically in love with him and he has no idea. "I-... was out for a walk."
"A walk?" He sits up and the blankets pool at his hips. "A walk into people's bedrooms?"
"Yes, no! No! I couldn't sleep so I went for a walk around base. There's this guy, a guard or something, he always tries to flirt with me and it makes me uncomfortable. Anyway I saw him and I just went into the closest room to avoid him."
"Oh. That's horrible, have you told him you're not interested?" Poe slides over on his bed toward the edge and adjusts the blankets. "Have you talked to anyone about it?"
You sigh heavily. "I've told him I'm not interested of course. I haven't brought it to anyone's attention because he isn't like...I don’t know?"
"It's unwanted attention. He's harassing you. Tell me who it is and I'll talk to them tomorrow."
"I don't want to start trouble."
Poe flips his blanket back. "I won't have anyone on this base getting harassed, let alone one of my best pilots."
"I-" your voice catches as you realize he's just given you a major compliment. One of his best pilots? Coming from Poe Dameron, the Poe Dameron? Your heart is going to explode. "Thank you," you manage to whisper while your brain and heart go a thousand miles a minute.
He chuckles softly, as if the compliment were nothing. "You know we have a recon mission tomorrow. You need to get some sleep. Should I walk you back to your room?"
"I can't ask that of you. I already woke you up and barged in your bedroom."
"It's no problem. I'm offering." Poe pulls back his blanket completely and slides off the bed, stretching as he stands. His black jogging pants hang low on his hips and you force yourself to look at BB8 in the corner. "Come on, Jumper. I need my pilots rested before they get behind the controls."
You nod and he opens the door, ushering you into the bright hallway. Karik is nowhere in sight and you're glad. It would be painfully obvious he was the one if he were lingering outside the door. "I think I'll be fine. You can go back to sleep Poe."
"No, I wanna make sure you get to your room unbothered." He runs a hand over his hair and scratches his side. It's hotter than it has any right to be. He's just being a human and you can't get your head out of the clouds. "You're in South Central quarters right?"
"Y-yeah? How'd you know?"
"I visited every day when you were laid up after your crash. Remember?"
"Oh yeah, right, duh." You shake your head and rub your neck. The scar there from the operation they did to reconstruct your shoulder is still raised. Your stomach churns as you think about how much of your body is scared from that crash. You're still alive though, and that's what matters.
Poe lays a hand on your cheek and fans his fingers out over your neck. "You still with me?"
"What?" You snap out of your trip down memory lane and look to the man in front of you. "Sorry."
"I didn't mean to bring up a sore subject."
"No, no it's fine."
"Did you ever go to therapy for that or anything? It takes a toll on a person when they get that close to death." Poe slides his hand down to your shoulder. "I'm not saying anything is wrong with you because there isn't, I just want to make sure you're alright."
You smile softly. "Yes, I've seen someone, I’m still seeing someone actually. I promise I'm not going to crash anymore x-wings or let you down on a mission because I'm in my head."
"I don't care if you let me down or destroy a hundred x-wings. I care about your health, about you as a person not as just some pilot on my team. I never wanna pull you from the brink of death again but I'd do it over and over if I must, just to see you smile and fist bump me before you get in your x-wing again."
"T-thank you Poe." You swallow back the surge of emotion that courses through you. "I haven't- I don't really talk about it outside of therapy y'know?"
"You can talk about it any time with me. It's okay. I've been there and it's a dark place to come back from." He wraps his arm around you and pulls you into a hug. "You're not alone."
You bring your hands up and grip his back gently. It's warm, soft and smooth to the touch. He must use quality body wash. "Sorry I woke you up and now I'm like this."
"There's a time for everything. Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Does the name Jumper upset you? I guess I didn't think of it until now."
"No, it's like a badge of honor. It's alright I don't mind."
"Okay good." He ruffles your hair and you swat at his hand. "You need to go to bed. Like I said, I don't need a sleepy pilot tomorrow."
"Yeah okay, Dad."
Poe smirks and folds his arms over his chest. "Dad? Or do you mean Daddy?"
Your jaw drops as you realize what he is implying. "Oh disgusting. You're sick Dameron. You're sick."
He laughs raucously, leaning on the wall as he catches his breath. "Oh man, your face was just priceless. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm joking. I'm not into that at all."
"Oh my- fuck Poe you are terrible!"
"I've been called worse honey." He pats your back and pushes you forward gently. "Seriously though, as much as I'd love to stay up all night with you, we both need some sleep. Let's get you to bed so I can get some sleep too."
__________________
Two days later you wake up from a nightmare in a cold sweat. You had gone down again, your x-wing careening to the surface of a planet you're unfamiliar with. This time you didn't jump out, trapped by your seat belt straps and you crashed with it. Everything felt so real and the moment you made impact you sat bolt upright in bed gasping for air. It's been over a year since the crash, you haven't had a dream like this in forever. You remember what Poe said, that you could go talk to him anytime. It's well into the early hours of the morning and you feel bad waking him up again, but you need something solid, something real. There are no missions for a few days so he can catch up on sleep tomorrow or something.
You put on your slippers and head out into the hall. You pass a few of the hangar crew, most likely the night shift, on your way down Poe's hallway. At his door you scan your ID and it slides open, allowing you to step in and hit the close button.
Poe stirs, rolling over in bed and looking at you. "Jumper? That you again?"
"Yeah, I'm sorry."
"No, not at all. Here." He scoots over and pulls the blanket back. "Get in."
"I don't know if that's appropriate?"
"Appropriate? What is this grade school academy? We're adults and you're my friend and co pilot. I think you're allowed to get in my bed. Do you want me to make it an order?"
"No," you laugh softly at how ridiculous it sounds. You crawl under the blanket and snuggle down against the mattress. It smells like him, warm and rich almost like sandalwood and spices. "I'm sorry I woke you up. I just didn't want to be alone."
"Nightmare?" He asks, voice soft and deep in your ear. He's so close you're torn between being comfortable and being nervous. "Tell me about it?"
"I was going down in an x-wing and I couldn't evac because I was stuck and I was so scared." Your chest tightens and you take a heavy breath. "I was so scared of dying Poe. I shouldn't be, I know the risk I take everytime I get behind the controls. But I was so fucking scared I didn't want to die like that, I didn't want to..." Your voice breaks completely as a sob wracks your body. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
Poe takes your hand and brings it up to kiss your knuckles. It makes your heart ache and everything feels surreal. You're a mess of emotions. He lets you cry it out, waits to speak until you've settled yourself down enough to breathe normally. "Can I tell you a secret?"
"Mmmhmm."
"I get scared too. The first time I almost died I ended up in a sand dune alone with a cut on my head and a broken arm. I think I was eighteen. If some salvagers hadn't found me by tracking my downed x-wing, I'd have died of starvation and dehydration. I didn't know where I was or how to get back to civilization. I think about that flight every time something happens to my ship and my controls go dark for a moment. I had nightmares every night for two years. I still get them from time to time."
"Oh. I didn't know that happened to you."
"Mmm. I've been in a lot of dangerous situations and I'm sure I will be in more in the future. Being afraid of dying doesn't make you weak, it makes you human. Unfortunately PTSD is a very real side effect of traumatic events and we've been through a lot. I still go to therapy once a month because coping is hard."
You nod and squeeze his hand in yours. "Thanks for letting me stay in here for a bit. I just wanted to feel something real, to know the dream was just a dream."
"I understand. You're welcome to sleep with me if you want. I have to be up in a few hours to meet with Leia, but you can stay as long as you like."
You chuckle softly and wipe your face. You feel a lot better having cried it out. You're feeling a lot less scared of dying and being weak and a lot more giddy and anxious about being this intimate with Poe. "Is Poe Dameron asking me to sleep with him?"
"Only if you say yes."
"Mmm, only if you keep it above the waist." You say teasingly.
Next thing you know Poe is leaning over you. His hand slides into your hair, turning your face to him. In the dark room so you can't see him clearly when he is this close and your breathing stops. Is this happening? Is he actually making a move?
"P-Poe?"
"Above the waist." He strokes his thumb over your cheek. "That's the only stipulation?"
"For sleeping? Or you mean for-"
"I do."
A flush rises in your chest and you can feel your cheeks get warm just before the rest of your body floods with heat. "I didn't know you felt that way about me."
He chuckles softly and leans his forehead against yours. "Jumper, you're all I've wanted since the day I pulled you from the quicksand. I knew when I saw you almost ripped from my life, I needed you. You're funny, smart, quick, and a damn good pilot." He bumps his nose against yours and you let out a shaky breath. "I don't let just anyone in my room late at night, and I sure as hell don't share my bed with just anyone either."
"I can't believe...I was just teasing but- I've always wanted you t-"
He presses his lips to yours and you melt. Your body feels as if it completely dissolves, from your bones to your skin. You feel like putty held together by some fragile and unknown force, doomed to ooze out of your form at any second. He's burning up, body flush to you as he works his lips against yours ever so gently. It's even better than you imagined, he's so soft and warm, a gentle lover, and your heart stops as you think about how this can't be real. This has to be a dream. You're still in your room. This cannot be happening.
"Hey, you alright?" He murmurs, stroking some hair off of your face. "Did I read this wrong?"
"It's a dream. You're not real." Your chest swells with crushing sadness and you can't stop the tears that spill over the corners of your eyes. "This isn't happening. I'm going to wake up now."
Poe lets out a soft laugh. "Sweetheart you are awake." He leans over you and turns on the wall lamp. The room is flooded with a yellow glow and you see him, face to face. "See? I'm right here?"
You reach up and touch his cheek, the light stubble scratches against your fingertips. His loving eyes droop, a dead give away that he enjoys your touch. But why? Why would he wait so long? Why would he never say anything? You splay your hand flat on his cheek and rub your palm along the scratchy short hairs, thumb bumping his lower lip. "Why now?"
"Because I finally had an inkling that you were just as interested as I was. You're hard to read most of the time. I understand that though. You're private with your feelings and I'm your commander. I don't blame you for not flinging yourself at me. I've not been exactly forthcoming either, as I didn't want to be inappropriate as a person of authority."
"Right...but what is proving to me that this isn't a dream?"
"Well would a dream bite your shoulder?" He drops his face to your skin and lets out a hot breath over it.
"Maybe?"
"Would you feel it if it wasn't real?"
"I don't know."
Poe sighs heavily, forehead pressing to your shoulder. "This is not a dream. I swear. Do you want to get up? Go talk to someone else? Maybe fly the x-wings around a bit?"
"No. I want to sleep. You said you need to sleep too because you have a meeting with Leia early in the morning. Maybe if I fall asleep I'll wake up if it's a dream."
"It's not a dream." He leans over and flips off the light before he drops his weight to the bed beside you. "You'll see."
_____________________
Morning comes and you wake up to bright light pouring in through the small window beside the bed. Of course Poe has a good room with a window. Most of the base sleeping quarters have no windows and are very small. His is nice enough, definitely more spacious than a lot of the rooms you've been in. His bed is tucked in the corner, there's a bedside table, a rod built into the wall for clothes, a small three drawer dresser behind the door and a little indent on the wall the bed is against for storage where BB8 stays. He doesn't have much in the way of personal items on display. Only a few hygiene essentials in a basket on the dresser and a small box that looks like it might hold a piece of jewelry. There is a photo frame too, and it looks like a picture of the x-wing fighters.
Last night wasn't a dream, that much is obvious. You're in Poe's room and he is gone. You debate turning over and going back to sleep, or going out to get breakfast at the mess hall. Your stomach makes the decision and it says mess hall as soon as possible.
In the mess hall you take a seat with some of the other pilots. You know them well enough, a few of them you would call friends. You've never been one to be too social because in this fight, you lose too many people. One of the few people you call a friend is Vivi. She is a bomber pilot, knows the in and out of a bomber like the back of her hand. She's a bit of a gossip but she has been here with you since the day you arrived.
"Hey hey, how's it going?" Vivi asks as you place your tray in front of you.
"Good. I've got a few days off. I'm glad just to recoup."
"Got anything special in mind?" She asks with a little smirk.
You shrug and poke at the jellied fruit you've got on the plate. "Sleeping? Finding a place to take a hot bath. I swear I've got arthritis and I'm only twenty five."
"Mmm probably because you were a shattered heap of bones when Dameron found you. That shit doesn't heal back right y'know?"
"Mmm yeah probably."
"Yeah...so how long have you and Dameron been a couple?"
You nearly choke on your coffee and quickly grab your napkin to clean up your face. How in the galaxy did she know you and Poe spent any time together outside missions? "Excuse me?"
"I said what I said. I heard from Nupe that Karik told him that he saw you go into Dameron's room the other night, like well into the night too. I also heard that Trey and Garin saw you in the hall going to Dameron's room last night. So, how long?"
"It's not like that. Karik is the one who is obsessed with me, remember? His rumors are invalid. I was out for a walk because I couldn't sleep and I just ducked into a room to avoid him. It happened to be Poe's room. There is nothing going on."
Vivi chuffs. "So what about last night?"
"I went to talk to him about the crash. I've been having a hard time lately and- y'know what? I don't owe you an explanation." You stab a little harshly at your scrambled eggs and bring them to your mouth. You don't owe anyone an explanation about why you've been to Poe's room. Why does it matter? He's your friend and co-pilot. That's all anyone needs to know. So what if you kissed last night. You're still not sure it wasn't a dream. Sure you woke up in his room but that doesn't mean anything...maybe.
Vivi stays quiet, realizing she has crossed a line she wasn't meant to cross. The two of you eat in silence while the rest of the mess hall go about their own conversations. It's not until you're ready to take your tray to the wash station that Vivi speaks again. "I'm sorry I pushed you. I think you'd make a good couple. I just thought- well the way Dameron looks at you I thought something was definitely going on."
"The way he- what?"
"You don't know? He looks at you like you're the most incredible person he's ever seen, literally after every mission he gawks like a proud parent watching their kid win a race." She laughs softly to herself. "He is so in love with you and you have no idea do you?"
"Wait- last night...fuck. I have to talk to him."
"He's still at the command center with Leia and the others last I knew."
You pick up your tray and head for the wash station, passing it off to the droid there as you head out. You're starting to think last night was not a dream after all. If not, you've gotta talk to Poe as soon as possible. If rumor spreads that you're hooking up or sneaking around, whatever, you want to make sure that it doesn't affect either of you. You want a solid definition of your relationship no matter what it may be.
As you turn down the hall to the command center you run into Karik. The absolute last person you want to deal with right now. He's standing guard outside the command center, posted most likely, and you've got to get past him to get to Poe. As if the Galaxy hasn't given you enough to deal with in your life.
"Hey Jumper, where are you headed?" Karik smiles, arms folded over his chest to make himself seem bigger. It's like a bird, puffing itself up for first impressions on a mate.
"I've business in the command center."
"Do you? I don't have any orders to allow you in."
You roll your eyes and look to the doors beyond that open to reveal the internal workings of the command center. You make eye contact with Poe for a moment before the doors close again. "Why don't you double check?"
"I know my job. How about you? Do you know yours?"
"What the hell are you talking about?"
Karik shrugs and gives a rude smirk. "Nothing. Just don't know what a pilot would think they need to be in the command center for. You're not a commander or a sergeant."
"What's your problem Karik?"
"I don't have a problem."
"Really? Because you are acting like an asshole right now and if my memory serves me right you've never been one before."
"People change."
You scoff and smile to yourself. This is absolutely about you and Poe. He's blocking you because he's jealous. "You-"
"Jumper, hey you came to meet me?" Poe says as he jogs down the short hall behind Karik that leads to the command center. He stops and lays his hand on your shoulder, smiling softly.
"Of course, I was hoping we could talk soon. I didn't realize your meeting would go so long today."
Poe looks back at the closed doors and runs a hand over his hair. "We're just about finished. Did you get breakfast?"
"Yeah just came from there."
"Damn I was hoping to get something with you. I'm starving in here."
You look to Karik and then back to Poe and smile oh so sweetly. "I can grab you something before they switch over to lunch. Meet me in my room when you're done?"
"Sure. I'll be wrapping up quickly." Poe moves his hand from your shoulder to your neck and does a soft little cradle of your jaw before pulling his hand away. "You're such a sweetheart. I'll meet you there soon."
Warmth floods your body and grips your heart. So tender and loving. You're not sure if you're ready for that side of Poe yet. You glance at Karik and he is staring straight ahead, an unmistakable scowl of jealousy on his face. Good, maybe now he will leave you alone.
_____________________
"So Karik is the one who bothers you isn't he?" Poe asks, stretching his legs out in front of him. The two of you are in your room, wanting to talk in private from the rest of the base who are clearly very interested in your relationship. "I could sense he was uncomfortable with me touching you."
"Yeah, he's moving on though I think. I don't know." You pick at the bread you've brought to snack on while Poe finishes his jelly on toast. "I wanted to ask you about last night."
Poe looks over and you can read his expression as plain as day. He looks nervous, concerned that he has wronged you. "Yeah?"
"It wasn't a dream right?"
"No, it definitely was not. Are you uncomfortable?"
"No. No, I'm not uncomfortable with what happened. I guess I'm coming to terms? It still feels like a dream, like it feels hazy because I was so tired. Do you really actually like me like that?"
"Yes. I really like you." He chuckles and leans his head on your shoulder. "Jumper, you're the most amazing pilot I've ever seen and you're so incredibly beautiful without even trying. I don't know why I have waited so long to make a move. I suppose I was afraid I wasn't good enough."
"Not good enough? You're Poe fuckin' Dameron. You're the greatest pilot the resistance has ever seen, shit, that some of the Galaxy has ever seen. You're sweet and kind and you're so determined and dedicated. Poe, you're a rarity and any woman who gets to be romantically involved with you is so lucky."
Poe lifts his head and puts his arm around you. "I suppose you've hit the jackpot then."
"Me? Why?"
"Because I want to ask you out, Jumper. Be my girlfriend."
"Wh- we haven't even gone on a date Poe! How do you even know you want to date me let alone actually be in a relationship with me? This is a bit fast don't you think?"
"I know we have chemistry through the roof when we are together in the cockpit of a ship. We've got an undeniable connection when we are fighting side by side in x-wings and even more of one when we see each other on the ground. There is no way you don't feel that when we're together."
You smile to yourself. Of course you noticed all these things. They're why you've got such a crush on him. You and him have an unspoken connection that puts you on the same wavelength when you're near each other. You always thought maybe it was because he's such a good pilot that you just vibed with him. Two birds of a feather type deal. But it's deeper than that. He evokes a deep comfort, a sense of home and family that you no longer have. By the stars you never realized you are basically in love with him.
"Jumper?" He murmurs, hand cradling your jaw and turning your face to him. "Are you alright?"
"I think I'm in love with you." You mumble softly, eyes focusing in and connecting with his.
Poe smiles and lets out a laugh. "And I'm the one moving fast?"
"Shut up." You grab his face and pull him in for a kiss. He immediately melts into your grasp, reaching for your face and grinning into your lips. "You taste like jelly," you giggle as he pulls back and leans his forehead against yours.
Poe pulls you against his chest and you wrap your arms around him. "So is this a yes to being my girlfriend?"
"Yes. I'd love to date you Poe Dameron."
"Good." He presses a kiss to your head. "Because I don't know if I could keep pining after you."
"Pining? Oh please."
"Hush." He ruffles your hair and falls back on the bed, pulling you back with him. "Let me be the romantic I was born to be."
"I'm excited to meet this side of you."
He kisses along your jaw and hums. "I'm excited to show it."
______________________
end
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Header image by delicate-venus
*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted works.*****
#star wars#star wars fic#star wars universe#star wars fan fic#poe dameron#poe dameron fic#poe dameron fan fic#poe dameron star wars#starwars#poe dameron x reader
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Begin Again
Summary: When your best friends move away for college, you think life is officially over. However, you find yourself making new friends including the blonde surfer from the other side of the island.
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four.
After your first full week of school, you were drained. Thankfully it was Friday and you were ready for your last official kegger. Friday night football games start up next week which meant you could no longer attend the weekly boneyard parties.
You felt like you deserved a fun night out with your friends especially after the disaster that was last weekend. The boys blew up your phone Sunday until you finally answered. Topper explained that they were going through rush which meant that all personal pictures were archived on their pages. Kelce said the older members would rag them even harder if they saw your picture.
“They can be pretty rude when it comes to girls especially if it’s a girl friend or best friend.” Kelce said.
“And the last thing I need to do is beat the fuck out of a member because they said something crude about you just to get under my skin.” Rafe explained honestly.
“So y’all are sure you want to join a group that says offensive things about women just to get you riled up?”
It was silent on the other end of the phone as if it was the first time they ever considered that. Not that it would change their mind. All of them were legacies and their families expected them to be members by the end of the semester.
The whole situation made an already long week feel even longer. So when Sarah told you to come to the chateau to pregame before the kegger, you couldn't say yes fast enough. You were ready to get drunk with your friends and even more ready to see a certain blue eyed, blonde surfer again.
The sun was starting to set by the time you got there. No one was in their usual spot outside and the house was pitch black inside. You double checked Sarah’s text to make sure you read it correctly. Yup, she definitely said meet here.
The porch steps creaked as you made your way up to the older home. It was so dark when you opened the door that you hesitated before entering.
“Guys?” You call out hoping they were in one of the rooms or maybe on the other porch.
All the sudden, the lights flicker on and everyone shouts a medley of surprises. Confetti bombs are going off as your friends step out from their hiding spots.
“I- I’m a little confused.” Your eyebrows furrow and you press your palm to your chest hoping it causes your heartbeat to slow down. It’s not your birthday and nothing spectacular happened lately.
“It’s your gotcha day!” Pope shouts and you notice he’s holding a cake. A small, round hand made cake with light pink frosting.
“My what?”
“It’s your adoption day babe! Us pogues took a vote and decided it was time we officially added you to the group.” Kie explains before throwing her arms around you. Everyone crowds around as they all spout their congratulations.
“You guys-” you begin but stop when your throat feels tight and bite down on your lip as hard as you can to prevent yourself from crying like a little baby. It doesn’t work because a few tears spill down your cheeks.
“Fuck, that was less than three minutes.” Pope says while looking down at his watch. He, Kie and John B all pass Sarah twenty dollars each. You're about to call them out for betting on your emotions, but it’s completely forgotten when JJ wraps you up in a hug.
“I didn’t bet on you.” He whispers against your ear while holding you tightly. You let your head rest in the crook of his neck.
“Thanks, J.” You whisper quietly into his shirt before pulling away. “Thank you guys. This means the world to me.”
“We love you bub!” Kie says as she flings herself at you again and the rest follow in a group hug.
“So do I get a T-shirt or something?” You question after a moment of silence making everyone laugh.
After eating cake and pregaming at the chateau, you find yourself sitting around the bonfire at the boneyard. The kegger is in full swing and it seems like there are more teens than usual. Sarah had convinced you to tell your mom you were staying at her house so you could both get shitfaced. She was already on the brink of black out, but you were only tipsy.
“Let's take a picture!” She shouts, causing everyone around the fire to look at her. You put both of your cups down in the sand before leaning in for a picture.
A hand lands on top of your head before it runs through your hair then cupping the back of your neck. You turn to see JJ standing next to you. The smile on your face was blinding as your eyes made contact. Blue to y/e/c.
He crouches down next to you on the sand “Wanna go for a walk down the beach?”
When you nod, he reaches out a hand and helps you up off the log bench. His large hands engulf your small ones and unconsciously linking your fingers together.
“Fuck” Sarah shouts out in frustrastion but your too wrapped up in the boy leading you away from the fire to notice.
“What’s wrong?” John B questions as he sits next to her on the log. She’s staring down at her phone, typing furiously and bouncing her leg. A sign she is nervous as hell.
“I accidentally sent the wrong picture.” She mumbles as she reads whatever response she just got back.
“Fuck, I really messed up.”
“Tell me what happened.” He grabs her face turning her towards him. Her eyes are glossy as she pushes the phone into his hands. He scrolls up a little, not sure what he’s looking for. It’s a text message with Kelce. The first picture she sent she’s looking at the camera, but y/n isn’t. Her head is turned to the side and a hand is sitting on her head. The second picture looks just like the one before except y/n is smiling brightly at someone outside the camera frame and he can tell the hand is now cupping her neck. The last picture is one of just her and y/n smiling.
He scrolls through the messages to see what she said.
Sarah: your fav bitches miss you
Kelce: whose hand is that
Sarah: fuck, I didn’t mean to send that picture
Sarah: this is the one I meant to send
Kelce: that didn’t answer my question
Kelce: who is that
Sarah: shit THIS is actually the picture I meant to send
Kelce: sarah, so help me god. answer the question
“This is so fucking bad. Y/n is going to be so pissed at me.” Sarah looks around for you, but you are nowhere in sight.
“It’s not that bad. Who cares if someone’s hand is on her head-” John B tries but she cuts him off.
“Rafe and Topper care.”
“Because it’s JJ?”
“Because they’ve both been in love with her since forever. I’m surprised they don’t jerk off together while thinking about her.”
“Ew, I- I really didn’t need to hear that.” He scrunches up his nose and she finally cracks a smile. It’s small, but there nonetheless.
“Sorry” she shrugs and lets out a loud sigh. “I guess they would also care that it’s JJ. You know they live for that kook versus pogue shit.”
He goes back through the pictures on her phone, zooming in on each to see if anything gives away that the hand and arm belong to JJ. He doesn’t find anything and passes the phone back off to her as it starts ringing.
“You can’t tell that’s JJ at all.” He says as he watches her send Rafe straight to voicemail.
“I bet her phone is blowing up- oh wait!” She picks up her purse, rifling through it before pulling out another iPhone. “She asked if she could put her phone and id in my purse.”
“Then there’s nothing to worry about tonight. She has no idea that the picture has even been sent. Let her enjoy her last kegger and we’ll tell her tomorrow.” He pulls her into his side and she silently prays that he’s right. She can feel your phone going off in her purse and knows tomorrow is going to be rough.
The moonlight was guiding you and JJ as you strolled down the beach. He had a tight grip on your hand as you walked in comfortable silence.
“You look beautiful tonight.” He says while coming to a stop.
“You don’t look too bad yourself.” You wink at him.
He pulls you into his chest, letting his head rest on yours for a few seconds before leaning back. The moonlight was the only thing lighting up both your faces as you stared into each other’s eyes.
He leans down, letting his lips hover over yours briefly before you close the small gap between the two of you. His lips press into yours softly at first, but it doesn’t take long for his tongue to swipe your bottom lip begging for entry. You let him in, his tongue dancing with yours as your hands wrap around his neck and move up into his hair, tugging gently as the kiss deepens.
He reluctantly pulls back, attempting to catch his breath and leans his forehead against yours.
“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that forever.” He breathes out.
“You kissed me the other night.” You point out.
“I meant like really kiss you. Taste you.” The double meaning of his words isn’t lost on you.
“So why haven’t you?”
“Well, you had three puppy dogs following you around for a while.” You roll your eyes at him calling your best friends dogs, but then his words finally register.
“Wait, you wanted to kiss me before we hung out?” Your teeth sink into your lip at the thought. Of course you had seen the pogues around since you were younger, but you never thought they noticed you because they hated people from your side of the island.
He steps back a little, taking his body heat with him and rubs a hand through his hair.
“Baby, I’ve wanted to kiss you since I saw you win the marshmallow eating contest at the fall carnival in middle school.” He admits shyly and your jaw goes slack.
You're not sure if it’s the fact he’s wanted to kiss you for over five years or that he remembers such an intimate detail about you, but his words have you jumping on him. His hands thankfully catch you as your lips mold to his. You pour everything into the kiss, hoping it shows him how much his words mean to you.
How much he means to you.
After a while, he pulls away and asks if you want to get out of here. You slide down his body as your feet meet the ground and you run like teenagers up the beach to John B's house.
Never once does he let your hand go now that he has it.
——
The sun is particularly bright the next morning and you find yourself rolling over to avoid it. The warm body next to you pulls you closer as you lay your head on his chest, his legs tangling with yours.
Memories from last night play like a movie in your head. JJ peeling your clothes off, his large hands gripping your thighs when you rode him and the way he said your name when he came. Like it was a sacred prayer on his lips.
The memories bring a blush up your neck and to your face. You're about to let your hand roam down his body, but a soft knock at the door stops you.
“Y/n” Sarah whispers your name through the old wooden door.
“Go away” JJ shouts half asleep, pulling you tighter against him.
“I really need to talk to y/n” Sarah's voice sounds panicked causing you to sit up immediately, wrapping the bed sheet around your front.
“No, don’t go. Just five more minutes.” JJs hands reach for you, but you playfully swat him away.
“Somethings up, let me go see.” You get up and start to look for your clothes.
“My boxers and t-shirt’s are in the top drawer.” JJ says casually, causing your blush to darken.
After you're dressed, you step outside to see John B sitting in one of the chairs and Sarah pacing nervously.
“What’s wrong?” Dread fills your stomach at the look on her face.
“Maybe you should sit down.” John B suggests before throwing a head nod behind you. JJ wraps his arms around you from behind and places a tender kiss on your neck.
“You look spooked.” He says to Sarah before sitting down on the couch, pulling you with him.
“Remember how we took a picture by the fire last night?” Sarah questions and you nod. It’s not the brightest memory, but you do remember leaning into her side.
“Well, I wanted to send it to Kelce. Kinda of like a we miss you but also look at us living life without you assholes. Last weekend still pisses me off.”
“Okay…”
“I immediately got a text back from him asking whose hand was in the picture.” She says and it only confuses you more.
“Let me see the picture.” She hands you the phone, scrolling to where all of this starts. Your eyes widen as you scroll through the rest of the texts and pictures.
“Shit” you mutter under your breath but JJ hears. He grabs the phone from you to see for himself.
“I don’t see what the big deal is.” JJ tosses the phone back to Sarah and leans back against the couch. Your eyes find hers, both wide at her screwup.
“Where’s my phone?” It dawns on you that you don’t remember having it last night. Sarah reaches into her purse and hands it to you. The home screen lets you know you have over 80 missed messages, calls and voicemails. Your heart sinks knowing what you're going to have to deal with today.
JJ and John B both look like they want to say more, but you stand up before they can.
“I’m going to head home to deal with this.” You say, heading back to JJs room to get your things. He follows behind you, closing the door and pulling you to him. You rest your head in the crook of his neck and breath him in. It’s comforting.
“It’s going to be okay, ya know?”
“I know, I just hate that I have to even deal with this.” Your voice is muffled against his skin.
“Me too. I was really looking forward to taking my time with you this morning.” He wiggles his eyebrows and a giggle escapes your lips at his honesty.
“But seriously, they can’t tell who it is in the picture. Just say it was a touron and be done with it.”
“You don’t want me to tell them it was you?” You question not expecting his solution especially after the other day at your house.
“Oh, I do. Trust me. But I also don’t want you stressing over it.” He leans down letting his lips cover your ear. “I’ll still be your dirty little secret for a little while longer.”
He tells you to not worry about changing, secretly liking the fact you were wearing his clothes. Sarah is waiting for you at the front door, deciding it’s best if she goes with you.
JJ lays a sweet kiss on your lips before you climb into the car, making you promise you’ll call him later.
After dropping Sarah off and convincing her you were fine, you made your way through your front door. You shout a hello to your parents before darting up to your room to shower and change out of JJs clothes. The last thing you need to be wearing when you FaceTime your overprotective friends is a guy's clothes. Especially if it’s not theirs.
In the shower, the warm water rushing over you brings a little clarity. You’ve never been a liar, always opting for the truth even if it was painful. Plus, the anxiety that came from lying was not something you wanted to deal with.
When you're done, you settle on the window seat and decide you should call Kelce. It rings once before he picks up.
“Hello?” His voice is groggy and you have no doubt he was still asleep.
“Someone must have had a rough night.” You joke.
“Y/n?” His voice is more alert and there’s rustling in the background. You can hear hushed voices before he speaks again.
“It was a rough night. Looked like you had a pretty good night though.” His voice echoes slightly, alerting you to the fact you’ve been put on speakerphone.
“Did you just put me on speakerphone?”
He hesitates for a second “Uh, no. Why would I do that?”
His obvious lie hurts. The four of you never lie to each other especially not for the sake of one of the others and especially over the smallest things.
“Okay, do you want to facetime then?” You press seeing just how far he will take it. It’s quiet for a moment, but you can hear him mouthing something to the other boys.
“I can’t, my phone battery is low. My phone would probably die-”
“So plug it into the charger while we talk.”
“I have no idea where that’s at.”
“Then call me back later when it’s just you and I’m not on speakerphone.”
“It is just me, I’m the only one in the room.” The lie rolls off his tongue quickly this time, like he’s finally got the hang of it.
“We don’t lie to each other, right?” It’s quiet and you think he’s going to admit to lying but he doesn’t.
“Right.” Is all he responds with and it makes your stomach sink. You never thought you would see the day one of your best friends would outright lie to you like this. Not only lying, but doing it to benefit your other two best friends that are standing next to him.
“So, did you see our texts?” He questions no doubt being coached by dumb and dumber.
All the resolve you had not to lie to them leaves your body and is replaced by anger. Why be honest with them when they can’t even be honest about the smallest things with you?
“Nope, I haven’t. Sarah did fill me in on the obnoxious obsession over someone touching my hair though.” Absolute annoyance drips from every word.
“Uh- who was it again?” His voice falters, no doubt caught off guard by your tone.
“A touron, not that it’s any of your business.” You lie and it immediately makes your stomach hurt.
“Did any-” he begins to question but you can’t take it anymore.
“Look, I have to go.” Is all you say before hanging up the phone, powering it off and tossing it across the room.
It’s silent for a moment as a heartbreaking thought hits you swiftly.
Is this the end of our friendship?
Author Notes: I know, I know. I left out all the smut. I think I will add it as an outtake at some point, but not sure when yet. Also, if I missed your tag please let me know!
taglist: @dreamsndior @rafej-cambanks @prejudic3 @katiaw2 @sometimesicryintheshower @bibliophilewednesday @edgymuffin @stargazingandmoon @rae131415 @httpstarkey @k-k0129 @sunshineitsfine44
#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x you#jj obx fic#jj x y/n#sarah cameron#topper thornton#rafe cameron#kelce obx#pogues x reader#obx fic#obx x reader#soft!kooks#soft!pogues
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Act IV: The Finale
Hi people! Finally the last part of this short serie! Honestly I had no expactation for it but I think it might slither into my all time favourite things I’ve written. I won’t lie, I think I’m in love with this last chapter. I feel like it’s the part we really understand both characters and their motivations in relation to each other. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Edit: I realize I have kept this gender neutral! so I change it on the infos on the first part and this one
Parts 1-3 in Masterlist!
Pairing: Tim Drake x gender neutral reader
Word count: 3456
Warnings: language, mention of violence (non-graphic)
“... And this is why I have taken the decision to repeal the vigilante act. All measures taken by the city and GCPD to collaborate with vigilantes on the matters listed are to be repelled at this instant. We will no longer tolerate criminals telling us how to protect our city and all arrest mandates out for vigilantes are to be reactivated--”
Tim passed a hand in his face after Bruce turned off the TV. There was some serious tensions going on in the batcave, especially after this gruesome live tape of the mayor, visibly held hostage in some kind of basement, delivered the new order to cancel all the work they had achieved to at least stop the cops from trying to hunt them down instead of focusing on actual crime.
The first thing he had done once he came back to the cave was to research you in any database he could hack into. He started in the state registry, knowing you had told him you had been an orphan. He had no idea what was a lie and what wasn’t in what you had told him, but that was apparently true. The picture attached was a younger version of you, that was clear, but any update on your whereabouts stopped at age 11. Then, he tried to look for a driver’s license, passeport, any ID documents you could have. He also hit a dead end with that too, so he looked into less savory types of repertories.
He finally found you in the mercenary databases, with a clear, recent picture and your… Impressive record. As he scrolled down your list of confirmed hits, he felt his stomach sink further and further. Marco Rizzo, the philanthropist, the kidnapped mayor, and it went on and on. What truly put him on the floor, however, was to see your credentials. You were Falcone’s main gun and you had trained under various mentors including Slade Wilson, out of all people.
You were the real deal and he had let himself fall for you, hard.
He felt stupid now. Did you even know who he was at night? Had you gone to him to throw him off your scent? Even after discovering all of this about you, a part of him still hoped you had no clue. It would hurt less to know it was a coincidence you bumped into each other rather than a calculated move from you.
“So… Your date uh?”
Tim cringed when Bruce spoke up. It was even worse to hear it out loud.
“I don’t wanna hear it” He mumbled, keeping his eyes dead set on the wall. He knew he had acted irresponsibly, he knew he should have seen the signs sooner, he knew he should have remained alert and not let himself be charmed by you, or let himself be sidetracked from his mission. It was a rookie mistake.
“Talk about sleeping with the enemy” Damian snorted from behind them. Tim turned around, glaring at him. He was sitting in a computer chair, casually eating noodles with chopsticks and watching the exchange like it was a movie. Of course, the demon had spied on the conversation.
“Damian!”
“What?” He looked at Bruce, shrugging nonchalantly.
Bruce sighed, shaking his head. He returned his attention to Tim again. “What do you want to do now?”
Tim didn’t reply straight away. He was conflicted, angry, sad, disappointed; he had rarely felt such a cocktail of emotions like that. On one hand, he wanted to wallow in self pity. It seemed like the one thing left to do, as life finally sent someone he could see himself get with but made them the exact opposite of what he stood for. But he couldn’t, he had to put a stop to this madness. He had to confront you.
“We’ll need to set a trap” He finally spoke, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “A contract that can’t be refused, draw them out. I’ll take care of it, it’ll be better that way”
“Are you sure you’ll be up to it?”
“Yes” Tim snapped, and Bruce took a careful step back. “I won’t be fooled twice. I can do it”
“Alright, just making sure” Bruce wasn’t convinced, but he still trusted his son. He knew he'd do the right thing if push came to shove. “What did you have in mind?”
Tim took a deep breath. “50 millions for a bullet in Bruce Wayne’s head”
---
It was too good to be true, and your suspicions of foul play were confirmed when your eyes spotted the red and black sticking out of the grim portrait of Gotham’s roof tops.
You knew something was up when you were offered a 50 millions solo contract. You usually went out for 15 millions for high profile targets, but curiosity got the best of you. The only thought of potentially pocketing that much money was enough of a motivation for you to at least find out what was up. But now, it was clear it was a set up as Red Robin himself was waiting for you. It was too bad for the money, but the prospect of facing a real Gotham vigilante for the first time was exciting.
“I’ve beaten you twice already” You smirked. “You called me for a third?”
A scowl set on his masked face. “Trust me, there won’t be a third” He spoke up in a gravelling voice. “Either you come with me here and now, or we do this the hard way”
“Oh, now you’ve got me interested” You teased as you circled him. “Do tell me more about this hard way of yours”
He deployed his staff. Your eyebrows raised at his challenge. “You’re arrogant” He stated. He wasn’t wrong. “It’s gonna be your downfall”
“... Or not” You shrugged, not stopping your assessment of him. “Still waiting on the monologue detailing your plan to stop me, by the way”
“There isn’t one”
He lunged. He did it so quickly and smoothly you almost didn’t see him move. Your reflexes allowed you to roll out of the way just in time, and the way the staff collided with the cement told you it wouldn’t have been a long fight if that had hit its intended target: you. You looked at him and you regained your footing, reevaluating the situation. You were skilled, but you doubted it would be enough to go toes to toes with Red Robin, now that you had had a glimpse of what he could actually do.
You raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Catch me if you can”
Before he could process your world, you turned around and jumped off the building, landing on the roof a dozens of feet lower. You didn’t waste time taking off, knowing he would be right behind you. You ran across the rooftop and leaped off the ledge and above the alley to grab onto the fire exit on the next building over. You hurried to climb it, ending up on yet another rooftop. You ran alongside the pool and jumped over the tables, kicking them back to try and slow down Red Robin, who was little by little gaining on you. Fuck, he’s fast, you thought. You weren’t even tempting to look back, but you knew with the sound of his footsteps alone.
You hadn’t planned on him being able to follow you that easily, not even cursing behind you as you took another jump over a considerable gap between buildings. You were fast, faster than most. Making exits had always been your strong suit, whether it was on foot, by car or otherwise. However, the only times you had faced him were when you had a rocket launcher as a deterrent or when you were driving an actual race car. Now that the field was levelled, you didn’t have the advantage anymore. You knew you wouldn’t be able to outrun him if you kept going on that way, so you had to change your strategy.
You took a sharp turn to the left and grabbed a clothesline, pulling out a knife from your belt and severing in behind your grip. You took a good running start and let yourself fall on the building on the other side of the street, pausing to glance at Red Robin standing where you had just been seconds ago. He was trying to find another way to cross, but there was none and even he couldn’t make that jump. You gave him a wave and a wink before taking off again. However, on the corner of your eyes, you still could see him tracking you relentlessly, not letting you get away so easily.
You jumped over an alley, and instead of landing on the next roof, you aimed for the first balcony from the top. With your shoulder first and your head tucked in, you went straight through the sliding door window and rolled on the landing to smooth your fall. You glanced beside you at the terrified man in his underwear who was cowering on the couch and looked behind you, shrugging.
“Sorry for the mess” You didn’t wait until he replied to walk out the apartment. You jogged down the stairs, knowing Red Robin would have lost your trace now. Or so you thought.
You halted your steps when you noticed him waiting at the bottom of the staircase and leaning on the rail with a nonchalant expression, like it had been easy to predict you would come out that way. He returned the little sarcastic wave you had given him minutes earlier, making your face fall. You turned around and climbed back the steps back to the first floor, barging in and running across the hallway until you reached the window at the end. You took the time to open this one, seeing as he had not yet reached the floor. You slipped through it and climbed down the wall to land into the back alley. You were about to head for the streets when an already too familiar red and black figure blocked your way.
You took off in the opposite direction, well, until you came face to face with a brick wall. There was nothing to climb onto, no fire exit to use, no way to get away. You closed your eyes and cursed under your breath as footsteps reached you. He wasn’t in a hurry, his pace was tauntingly slow and confident he had you trapped. You recomposed yourself before turning around to face him.
“You forced me to make a mistake” You stated with a sigh. “Impressive”
“Told you” He said, taking a step toward you. “Arrogance did end up being your downfall”
“I don’t suppose we could have a rematch, uh?” You tried, smiling coyly. “That staff didn’t seem such a bad idea in hindsight”
“If you thought you could win then, you wouldn’t have dragged me into this pointless chase” He scoffed, and your eyebrows raised. He was right, but damn. “Unless you want a beating at that too”
“Ouch” You chuckled. “That really hurts my pride”
“Good” He smirked. “Now that you know you won’t get away from this one, just do the logical thing and surrender. There’s nowhere to go”
You held eye contact for a moment before slowly raising your hands. “Alright” You complied with a nod. “You earned that one”
He took careful steps toward you, alert to whatever quick move you would do. But you could recognize when you were beaten, so you didn’t plan any surprise move. Getting caught by a vigilante was an eventuality, even you knew you wouldn’t escape them forever. You just didn’t think it would have been this soon. He grabbed your wrists, and once he was sure he had you solidly enough, he twisted your arm behind you and pushed you rather roughly into the brick wall.
“Woah there champion” You coughed out in surprise. “I feel that spark between us, I really do, and I admit I am partially to blame for it, but I’m kinda seeing someone? And I’m really into him so if you could just. Stop manhandling me that way, that’d be great”
You felt him take a considerable step backward, and his grip on your arm dropped. You frowned, carefully turning around to face him. You didn’t understand why he had let you go, and his blush combined with his bewildered expression only made you more confused.
“Okay, what is going on, now?” You asked, not taking your eyes off him. It was like he was a completely different person now, and you couldn’t point out exactly why it was suddenly so familiar. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, jeez”
“I’m not” He defended too quickly, his voice wavering. Your eyes squinted even more as you took one step forward. He didn’t move, it was like he was frozen in place. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over for you”
“Uh” You took another step, and he squared up, trying to cover the fact he had totally lost his edge over you. You could have made a run for it, you knew it would have been ridiculously easy at that moment to evade him, but something held you back. You scrutinized him, your head tilting to the side. He gulped, and suddenly it all pieced together. That reaction to your flirting, you knew it all too well. Your eyes widened, before you gave him a sympathetic smile. “You know, while this mask does suit you, I prefer to see your eyes, handsome”
His muscles tensed for a second or two, but his shoulder sagged soon after. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “How long have you known?”
Your eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean, how long?” You asked. “Thirty five seconds ago”
“You didn’t know before?”
“Uh, no” You replied. “What does it matter?”
“You… You didn’t go on a date with me to distract me from your trail?”
“No, I went on a date with you because I like you?” You raised an eyebrow. “I would have been way more careful with my lies if I had known, fuck I was so obvious, no wonder you figured it out. Besides, I just told you I’m really into you--”
You were surprised by the sudden movement of his arm that sneaked behind your neck and brought you flush against his lips. Okay then. You returned the kiss without hesitation holding on to his shoulders under the sheer force he was applying against you. It was a lot different from the shy boy you had met at the racetrack, but then again, he was Red Robin right now, more so than Tim Drake. You could have never connected the two if it hadn’t been from your flirting from up close. Before you knew, he tore himself from you and jumped back like you were actual fire, cursing under his breath. You blinked slowly at his sudden absence from your immediate vicinity, then rolled your eyes. Dramatic much?
“What is it now?”
“You’re still a criminal” Now he refused to meet your eyes.
“Are you-- Is this because of what happened in the alley the other day?” You sighed, throwing your hands up before letting them fall back and slap on the side of your thighs. “I’m sorry, okay? I wouldn’t have ran you into the garbage pile if I had known it was you. And I wouldn’t have threatened you with a rocket launcher either-- Shit okay I see your point, I’m really sorry about that too”
“No!” He yelled. “I mean, yeah, kind of. But you kill people for a living, I can’t--”
“What does it change?” You asked. “You liked me before you found out. You were about to hand me to the police, I still like you! In fact, if you could ram me into the wall once again like you just did, I wouldn’t--”
“Please stop talking”
You grinned. “Does it turn you on?”
“Y-No” He replied, correcting himself last second. You raised a subjective eyebrow. “Stop that”
“Stop what?” You asked innocently. “I’m just saying it’s on the table. If I had known it was you when you did it, I would have enjoyed it so you’re welcome to do it again”
“Do you ever stop flirting?” He deadpanned. He crossed his arms against his chest, but it definitely didn’t have the intended effect. Instead, you just checked him out even more, since his muscles were very well defined in that suit. You liked it.
“With you? Not a chance, handsome”
And here came the blush again. He looked away and gulped, ignoring your self satisfied smile. You could do that all day and never get bored of it. Still, you regained a somewhat serious expression for the conversation that was inevitably coming.
“So now what?” You spoke up. “You give me to the cops? We pretend nothing happened between us? Because I’ll be honest with you, I don’t want that. I meant it when I said I liked you”
“My job is to stop crime, and the people who commit it” He began with a sigh. “I just can’t ignore the fact that you are one of the bad guy”
“That’s valid” You nodded slowly. “But this is just a job. I don’t do it for the power trip of taking people out, I do it because I’m good at it, and because I like the money that comes with it. Although, I’ll admit I do enjoy making dramatic exits from time to time--all the time”
Tim snorted. Of course you liked your exit, that had been obvious from the start. But even if he did not agree with your job, or with the lack of morals that came with it, he had to recognize the difference between you and the typical Gotham criminal. From what he had found out so far about you, you never caused casualties in any of your contracts. You always kept the mess to a minimum. You were a far cry from the Joker or Poison Ivy, for that matter.
Even if you couldn’t see his eyes clearly, you could just see the gears turning in his head. Would it be so bad if he let you go? What if he kept seeing you? He could agree with you on one thing: behind his reluctance because of your job, he really didn’t want to pretend nothing happened. He liked you a lot, and it absolutely frustrated him that the one god sent person he instantly clicked with was on the other side of his moral spectrum.
“Tell me” You said softly, bringing back his attention to you. “If you had never found out about my job, would you have asked me on a second date?”
“Yes” He didn’t hesitate in his answer. It was like you could read his mind, reminding him of how well you fit together. He wanted both to scream and to kiss you again.
You took a deep breath, letting him think some more. You could very much suspect the news of your activities was harder on him than his were on you, so you understood the need to let him a little space while he figured it all out. You had half expected him to go ahead with his initial plan though, so you prepared yourself mentally for him eventually binding your wrists and dragging you to the nearest precinct.
That’s probably why you were surprised when he took a step aside, no longer blocking you from leaving. You didn’t move, only stared at him.
“I won’t give you a free pass if I catch you doing shady stuff” He sighed, gesturing to the exit of the alley. “ But for this time, I guess I’ll see you next time you do something stupid”
“Not before?” You raised an eyebrow. The corner of his lips slightly lifted.
“Maybe before”
“Is that a yes on the second date?” You asked, hopeful. “7:30 next Friday at that lobster place you mentioned?”
“Will you be working that night?”
“I won’t!” You hurried to confirm. “I swear I won’t”
He let out a long sigh like he was reconsidering his entire life. “What the hell, sure”
“Great!” You grinned wide, stealing a quick kiss on his lips.
“Go, now” He ordered, gaining back his more authoritative vigilante voice. Oof, that was hot, you thought, but you kept it to yourself for once. “Before I change my mind”
“See you on Friday, handsome!”
He watched you run out of the alley, finding himself suddenly excited at the prospect of seeing you again, whether it would be as Red Robin or as himself on a date with you.
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The Future Is In Space! (and so is the rest of you)
Okay, so. Gordon should’ve seen this coming.
And he did, to be fair: Joshua’s always loved space. Joshua loved the idea of flying cars when he was a tiny little thing, if the fact that all of the toy cars he had were thrown with intense force at one point or another meant something, and he clapped at the night sky once when Gordon got them both stuck at a gas station in the middle of nowhere due to… circumstances… which was super, ultra, uber cute as fuck . Especially because Gordon had just applauded him for singing along to a song on the radio when they parked, and that was very possibly the first time Joshua registered clapping as a possible positive reaction to something he likes, or whatever like that. Gordon Freeman has a PhD in theoretical physics and theoretical physics only.
The point is that Gordon loves Joshua so fucking much. No, the point is that Joshua has always liked space. He chose for himself a set of space-themed PJs when Gordon took him to the mall, and he likes food with weird colors because that’s “alien food”, and he has given away all of the toy cars he had to make space for toy space ships of many sizes, and Gordon has had to have a conversation with him once about upending a dusty fish bowl onto his own head so he could look like an astronaut. He doesn’t do that anymore, because Joshua is genuinely a really smart kid who just needs the required pieces of information to put things together by himself.
Gordon loves him so much.
Gordon also has only experienced a single year of relatively radiation-free, sludge-free, organic, non-Black Mesa- poisoned air and also freedom (to an extent) since. You know. Almost dying and also losing his right arm in Black Mesa. Where he jumped into a few portals, one of which leading to an alien world called Xen, where he had to kill what seemed to him at the time a spiteful god against his own existence.
That, and not the Joshua-loves-space part, is the part he didn’t see coming. Hadn’t. Still doesn’t, if he can be honest for a minute. There are days it still doesn’t feel real, just to contrast nicely with the days when what’s left of his right arm and his right shoulder hurt, and days when power outage hit unexpectedly and the lights went out without warning, and days when he fights to not let some stupid fucked up slights against him go because that’s just how the world is that’s how things are now keep your head down and don’t think Gordon just shoot just let your trigger finger pull itself in you are in a comedy of error a laugh track a monkey on a leash just dance just move your feet j
Hey, no digging your heels in there. Throw yourself off your rhythm, Gordon. Joshua. Joshua loves space. Joshua is going to an elementary school now. Joshua just came home from a “career” day, and the parent invited to speak is a retired astronaut.
Joshua said: “I wanna be an astronaut when I grow up!”
Joshua likes numbers. Somewhat. He’s not averse to them, at the very least, and homework’s kind of bullshit from the concept to the execution but when Gordon and Tommy and Coomer sit down to keep him engaged while he does it he has fun with math homework. He likes video games, he likes the puzzles in the youth magazines they signed up for at his school, he likes messing with shape blocks and pulls out some cool combinations Gordon doesn’t see coming sometimes. Joshua is a smart kid that enjoys a fair challenge. Joshua is totally astronaut materials.
Joshua is going to space.
Joshua is absolutely going to space.
Xen is, coincidentally, also in space.
Gordon is calm. He totally has a good poker face. He performs well under pressure, especially very specific types of pressure, e.g. when there are rules in place he can cling to and ground out an appropriate plan of action. He could improvise a presentation in class in a pinch, because he knew what presentations are and what he’s been working on and what the teacher expected. He could jimmy his car out of an ice patch, because he knew how cars work and how ice acts. He can smile and say “That’s great, Joshie! You just gotta work hard for it, and then you’ll be in space in no time.”
Gordon has an image he can provide to show how he feels.
[Picture ID: a drawing of Gordon Freeman standing in front of his son Joshua, cut off at their chest. Gordon is a tall man, a bit heavyset, with tan skin and mid-back length, messy curly brown hair that’s greyed at his temples due to stress from surviving the hellhole that is Black Mesa and Xen. He’s wearing his comfortable worn-and-faded t-shirt, which is orange with a very faded graphic printed on the front. Joshua is a young boy with brown skin and short dark curly hair, brown eyes that’s brimming with light and happiness, and a wide happy smile. He’s wearing a light green t-shirt. Gordon is smiling at him, with another shot of his face enlarged and superimposed on the drawing right next to his head. This Gordon is screaming. This Gordon is screaming his heart out, and his face is scrunched up while his mouth opens wide, and he’s screaming a silent scream and he will never stop.]
---
Contrary to how it appears to everyone, Benrey doesn’t live full time at the Freemans’.
Well. He does “sleep” there. If he actually sleeps. That’s one of the questions that Gordon has had ever since Black Mesa that he never got to or bothered to ask, and then when they had to defeat Benrey in the final boss fight he thought that was it with his chance to ever ask. And then Benrey came back and the situation took a hard left into throw-the-whole-suitcase-out awkwardness and Gordon thought it better to never bring those questions up ever again. It’s. Ongoing. Like his climb back into being a normal, mostly law abiding, neutral good citizen, who has no ties to that research facility that blew up and opened a portal to hell in space.
It helps that Benrey really is just… a dude. Now that he’s not eighty feet tall and clipping through walls anymore, he can definitely pass as someone who just really loves to mess with people for a laugh. Which… well, Gordon’s judgement of character is probably better discarded in the kitchen trash compactor now, but he’s not gonna lie and say that’s all Benrey seems to him. He doesn’t even mess with people for laugh, not really. He is just. Like that. He’s an alien, but in the sense that’s…
Well, to Benrey, humans are alien. So that’s that.
And also Black Mesa did stretch the definition of ‘human’ in the physical sense pretty thin. So, again, that’s that. It all fits together like sliced pita bread.
The other thing that helps is that Gordon has the tendency to forget about risks or consequences when they are not directly in front of him, which he sometimes overcorrects, but this time around it helps move the sentiment into the philosophical window pretty quick, and then he can throw a brick through that one, because philosophy sucks ass. Gordon’s moving along well! He only had to change prosthetics twice because the first two were in order too heavy for his shoulder and too energy consuming, and all three are fully covered by the overlords that didn’t want Black Mesa to become a Thing in history, and now he works remotely for a uni that just lets whatever happen. It’s chill. It’s mostly chill.
He could’ve just chugged along never thinking even an inch deeper about Benrey’s Benrey-ness again, and Benrey makes that easy, because Benrey loves walking around and looking at things and being a bit of a spectacle with a straight face. Okay, Gordon doesn’t know for sure if Benrey loves doing those things, because he’s not Benrey. He just knows that Benrey does those things, frequently, and with an expertise that baffles even him, who knows full well how Benrey is. Well enough. Awkward territory, all of this is, really. The Point Is that Benrey actually doesn’t appear at home too much! He plays games through the night sometimes, sure, and ever since he called second dibs on any cereal in the apartment he always appears at the right time to claim that, but the whole thing is. Balanced. Benrey doesn’t seem to have physical personal belongings outside of the PS3 and four copies of Heavenly Sword he lugged back one day (the rest of the game library everyone kinda chimed in here and there to build up, because console is common ground fair use for everyone, while PC is where Gordon streams and also works, so it’s off limit), and he rarely uses utensils to eat anything, so to anyone but the team it’d seem like he’s barely there at all. Except for his presence of course. That’s… a lot harder to negotiate.
Gordon’s gotten very, extremely good at it though. It’s his life. Things fit together, mostly. He can deal, he has been dealing, and it’s even been fun. It’s definitely really funny here and there.
Gordon’s about to break the equilibrium. Introduce a nasty new specimen into the scene.
“Bro I knocked for a hot minute,” Benrey says, at the same time as Gordon’s blurting out, “I need to go back to Xen.”
“Huh.”
“Wha- Why do you knock? You’ve never knocked. You’ve literally only ever broken in.”
“Wanna… start now.” Benrey intones in that exact way, and then knocks on the door again. It doesn’t even sound good. These doors are all made with the weird thick composite that makes a dull plastic sound when knocked on.
“Don’t do that, just use the doorbell if you want to-” Gordon catches himself. “No matter. I need to go back to Xen. As soon as possible, but anytime in the next… twelve years… will work.”
Benrey just looks at him for a long time. An extended minute. Maybe even two.
Gordon is just staring back.
“You’re at. The door.” Benrey says, in a low voice. Gordon blinks. “Rude… rude little boy Freeman, huh.”
Gordon takes a deep breath. “Benrey-”
“Gonna let me in? Soon? ‘s bad etiquette… greeter… doesn’t even let guests in. Bet your wares aren’t even good.”
“Alright! Alright.” Gordon snaps, but he also does step back for Benrey to walk in, which. Really, that’s never been necessary. Benrey’s always come in and out as he pleases. Usually Gordon just walks out into the living room and Benrey’s already on the couch playing whatever game catches his eyes on that day. The decorum of knocking and walking in is simply never present.
Well, Benrey does knock on Joshua’s bedroom door. But that’s it.
They walk together into the living room, then Benrey situates himself on the couch, and Gordon settles on the carpeted floor next to the table to observe him. He’s never seen Benrey actually fold his limbs up into the position he’s usually already in when walked in on before. It’s mostly normal movements, which still catches Gordon off-guard a bit.
“Nice couch you’ve got here,” Benrey says, and pulls out his phone to fiddle with. It’s a Nokia 2700 Classic, with a theme downloaded from the Ovi Store, and a firefighter-themed 2D platformer that does get insanely hard in places. Tommy got him a snazzier Blackberry a while back, but he refused that one. Gordon didn’t really get it, but. Whatever.
“It’s always been here,” Gordon replies on reflex.
“Liar… Gordon Lie… man.” Benrey seems to need to chew on that one for a second. “Gordon Lieman. This building’s like. Ten years old.”
“That’s practically forever dude. That’s longer than they sent me to MIT for. Joshua’s not even that old.”
“He’s gonna. In… seven… years.”
Gordon remembers what he needs to talk with Benrey about again. “Goddamnit,” he slaps his own face - not with the hard prosthetic this time, thank you very much. Took him six months of HEV training and a year with a prosthetic to get it to heart. “Okay, so. Xen.”
“Wait. Math’s wrong… eleven. Years.”
“Don’t distract me! Xen!” Gordon throws his arms up, finally making Benrey actually look at him proper. “Joshua wants to be an astronaut when he grows up.”
Benrey puts his phone down.
“Yeah,” Gordon scrubs his face, with his flesh hand. “So I need to… do something about Xen. I have a plan. I need to find materials, and then I need a way to Xen…”
“What’s an astronaut.”
“A- no.” Gordon sits up straight. “No, you’re fucking with me. You’re doing this on purpose. I’m fucking about to go nuts, dude.”
Benrey looks him up and down, makes sure his head movement is clear in the dark living room, lit only by the lamppost outside the window. “Yeah,” he says, “no shit. You wanna go back to… Xen… and stuff. Freeman lost his mind.”
Gordon opens his mouth to retort, but then closes it with a click. “Okay,” he mumbles after a moment of thinking it over, “okay. I get where you’re coming from.”
“Haha, get it. ‘cause I’m from. Xen. And shit.”
“Not funny, dude.” It is a bit funny. “But I’m not- okay, so, listen, Joshua’s a determined kid, alright? He’s smart, and he’s healthy, and he likes space. He’s… the chance of him becoming an astronaut is not zero.” Gordon pulls his legs up to his chest. “If it’s up to me, it’s gonna be a hundred percent, ‘cause that’d make him so happy. But even if I’m not the one writing the almighty script I’m still gonna do my best to help him if he’s serious.”
Benrey continues looking at him. “Uh-huh.”
“And… that includes. Never letting him near Xen.”
“Mm.”
“And I know, I know Xen’s like. Ten fucking floating rocks at least a million Texas lengths away from Earth, but it’s still there, y’know? It’s still there. You’re from there! You know it’s still…”
“Yeah?”
“... I. Want to blow Xen up.”
Benrey settles into the draw-me-like-a-French-girl pose. “Sounds good. How’re we doing that.”
“Well, we’ll need explosives that can actually detonate in Xen’s climate, and acquiring that’s gonna put me on so many shitlist-” Gordon almost physically grabs his own hand to yank himself back to Benrey’s answer. “Wait. Are you really just… relenting? Are you actually in this now. Benrey?”
“Say more about the explosive though.” Benrey blinks innocently at him. “Please? Explosive cool. Maybe illegal. Super cool though.”
Gordon is not doing the frog mouth thing. He’s not. He’s totally not. He sighs a long sigh; there, no more rude expression. “I am only thinking about using explosives, because it’s costly and we’re gonna have to transport it. So you have nothing to snitch about. Who would you even snitch to, anyway? Fucking- we are under an indefinite two-way nondisclosure clause, if any of us ever open our mouth to a stranger about that we’re gonna get sacked, but. Wait are you even involved in that? You came back after we signed those papers. Well Tommy’s officially ‘representing’ us, so it’s all tangential kinda, so maybe he can just add you, but why would you-”
“No explosive run huh… What’re you gonna… use. Then.”
“-subject yourself to the law- alright, yeah uh. To be honest I was thinking raw force? Because I do have around twelve years to make this work, and Coomer has insane strength that has leveled a Xen island before, and Bubby is… I think he just isn’t aware that there’s supposed to be a limit to human strength at all. They forget to put that in when they pumped him with knowledge juice. He can- wait, Bubby can just make fire. He can maybe negate the climate conditions for us, so explosives are still in the question here, and- Darnold, last I heard he’s doing some ‘Sour Patch Kids but real’ stuff… sounds like seriously corrosive stuff… We can. We can have a plan.”
Benrey is on his phone again. “Nice.”
“Yeah. Okay.” Gordon dry swallows some dust from the carpet. He realizes he’s gripping on it pretty hard with his prosthetic; he’s close to ripping a chunk of it out. He takes a deep breath and relaxes the plastic hand. “We’re gonna need to make and test the explosives, and we’re. I need to tell everyone. Convince them to help. And we’ll need a portal back to Xen.”
Benrey’s still clicking away on his phone - probably playing that firefighter game again - but he’s looking at Gordon at the same time. Gordon looks up just in time to catch the sharp grin disappearing from his face.
Alright. Maybe Benrey does love doing Benrey things. At least one of them’s actively enjoying this.
---
Gordon’s well aware how ridiculous he is. Is sometimes seen as. Perceived as. Terminologies.
Mostly he copes fine with that. He’s lived it for as long as he’s alive. Most decisions he makes are met with a raised eyebrow at the sublest and outright laughter at the rudest. Transitioning, that was a long, long period of his parents going from “haha funny joke but don’t tell it in public yeah” to “oh shit that’s for real huh? That’s for real” to confused, but silent, silence. Him applying for MIT and seeking a scholarship was definitely the career advisor at his high school laughing uncomfortably for a long time, because Gordon’s never held down a project properly, has he? How’s he doing this? And then him adopting Joshua officially was at least ten separate conversations with Joshua’s grandparents patting him on the back, it’s okay if you don’t! We can care for him. It’s nice to have children around the house again! We know you’re busy! We know there’s things youngsters like you want to do before getting tied down with children. Trust us, we know. You don’t have to .
Gordon knows. He’s never had to make any of the decisions he actively made, but one, that’s why they’re decisions and not punishments , and two, in many ways including cerebral, he did. Kind of have to. In many ways those are the only steps that make sense for him to take. They were the foundation to who he is as a person, with a sense of self that must be supernaturally obscure, because he’s. He’s got a lot of things to balance. A lot of tight ropes to walk.
Gordon’s many things, a lot of those he doesn’t fucking recall himself. Maybe that’s by itself absurd enough. He’s had a lot of time to learn, and a bit of time to relearn, being okay with being absurd.
Black Mesa “helped”, in the same way it spared the rest of him when it got his arm cut the fuck off. It’s a horror comedy. It gave him a bit of a new perspective on absurdity.
“Don’t you dare,” Gordon grouches, because he’s learning. He’s always learning. “Don’t use the a-word.”
Bubby puts his arm together in front of his chest. “I’m not about to! Don’t presume you know what I will do.”
In a way Bubby’s incredulous look stings worse than Benrey’s deflection, Gordon reasons, because Benrey has emotional (?) stakes in Xen’s existence. Maybe he has an external heart or something that’s still beating and keeping him alive on Xen, though Gordon hopes he’d’ve at least been transparent about that when they talked about blowing the place up. Bubby though, Bubby doesn’t have emotional ties to many things altogether. Bubby’s also a tube baby who sets himself on fire with his thoughts. Himself and other people and/or objects. Not as absurd as Benrey being Benrey, but absurd enough to be way above Gordon on the a-scale, and thus has no rights to call Gordon absurd.
“You have to admit though,” Bubby says after a moment of silence.
Gordon takes a deep breath. “No, actually, I don’t have to admit shit,” he says, with what he can call patience with just a little bit of definition stretching, “you ever thought of that? I actually can just never admit that blowing up a whole planetoid system is a bit out-of-the-box thinking of me. I can just say that it’s totally normal and expected behavior of me, and what’re you gonna do with that? Huh? Do go on.”
“Oh don’t be pissy at me,” Bubby huffs, and goes back to staring at the buoy bobbing on the water surface, tied to his fishing line. “You’re scaring away the fish, Gordon. Everyone knows you don’t talk and stomp around on the piers while people are fishing. It’s rude.”
“You’re literally only trying to see if you can set a fish on fire as a prank,” Gordon points out, more for his own sanity than to prove anything to anyone, least of all Bubby.
Benrey looks like he’s ignoring Gordon and Bubby’s exchange, just sitting at the edge of the piers, legs swinging evenly, but Gordon well knows he’s listening in. If not because he’s somewhat invested then because most things that frustrate Gordon is great entertainment to him.
He is, maybe, a bit, somewhat invested though, must be. He brought Gordon to where Bubby and Coomer are camping, afterall. No reasons else to do it, especially when they have time to wait for them to come back to civilization. Twelve years, in fact.
Gordon can wait (he can forget, but in his book that’s the same as waiting, really), and he doesn’t begrudge Bubby and Coomer’s “honeymoon trip”, which has consisted thus far of them trampling about in ~~nature~~ , e.g. deep ends of the world that they do not and should not have access to, but somehow end up in anyway. Gordon only knew because Coomer’s grown fond of taking pictures, and once in a while if they get wifi he sends everyone some. The most memorable one was a pitch black square except for two dots of light in the distance, with the geotag pointing to them being in the Mariana trench.
They’re having fun, and Darnold and Tommy take effort to “decontaminate” them between trips, as well as make them learn wildlife interaction guidelines (Bubby probably already knew, but he didn’t care, and still nobody’s sure if he cares now), so Gordon doesn’t mind. Has no reason to mind. Until now, but only a tiny bit.
They decided to stop in a seaside town somewhere up North three days ago, and wifi’s spotty at best but Coomer still managed to send them pictures again - of him fighting a dolphin and Bubby making fun of a goat skeleton in a museum - and then Gordon got tired of staying up thinking about Xen at night and shot his shot. It took them another day to check their message again, and Bubby replied saying “don’t third wheel other people, weirdo” and Gordon just sighed and resigned himself to staying up way too late for another week or so. But then Benrey asked him to go to GameStop with him, which. Admittedly that was suspicious as hell, but Gordon reasoned Benrey knocked and asked to be let in the other day, so what the fuck, right. And then he stepped through the GameStop’s door, noticing the glass being darker than usual, and ended up on this piers where Bubby’s been trying to have a laugh at some poor fish’s expense.
Bubby made fun of him for third wheeling again, despite Benrey also being right there, and despite Coomer not even being there.
“Did you guys have a fight or something?” Gordon asked, because maybe he can be a little bit spiteful. He’s allowed.
“No,” Bubby grumbled. “Harold impressed Gregory with his punching power, so he’s invited to the Punching Tournament. I don’t like being in water for a long time so I stayed. Their sandwich’s not even good.”
Gregory turned out to be the giant squid that lives a few kilometers off the shore, and another few kilometers under the sea level.
“I’m gonna issue an a-word ban, actually,” Gordon declares, when he comes back to where Bubby’s sitting on his journey to wear a track into the piers. “I think that’s more conducive to real conversations.”
He’s being distracted, he knows. And maybe he’s letting himself be a bit distracted, so he can have a minute to improvise a script. Benrey just fast traveled him here, he did not prepare any materials, he doesn’t even have his notebook with him. That’s where all of his plans are! And his doodles. Mostly his doodles, but that’s a part of his thinking process, so he’s allowed.
“Alright, Mister Fucking-Insane-Person,” Bubby shrugs.
“Doctor.”
“Oh, my bad! Doctor Fucking-Insane-Person.”
“Also that’s a ban dodge and you know it. Also you still don’t have any rights to call me anything! I refuse to submit in this matter.”
Bubby turns around fully to put his hand on crossed legs and stare at Gordon. “You sure, Gordon? Are you very sure about that, when you warp out of thin air to where I am missing my husband very much and not torturing fishes for fun, saying things about blowing Xen up ? Is that not ragingly absurd, Doctor ?”
Gordon takes another deep breath. For his own benefit. For his own wellbeing. “Okay, one, Benrey warped me here, I was not responsible for that. Two, you’re trying to set fishes on fire, and your husband is punching more fishes while a giant squid cheers him on, probably. And three, which part of blowing Xen up is absurd, now? Feel free to elaborate on it. I’m all ears.”
“The very idea of it!” Bubby exclaims, accidentally shoving his fishing rod off the optimal position, chasing away the few fishes not shunned by his radiating malicious intent yet. “Who even thinks of that?”
“Me,” Gordon snaps back, “and you guys kinda ruined what ‘absurd’ even means at all for me, so don’t try me at it.”
Bubby shuts his mouth with a click, but his brows are still furrowed in the exact way that claims, loudly even if soundlessly, that he thinks that’s stupid.
“No, go on, Doctor Bubby,” Gordon presses. “You’ve got the quiz. Try your hand at it again, go ahead.”
“Alright, then, how are we even doing it? If we’re doing it. And there’s no we yet, mind you.”
“I- okay.” Gordon holds his hands up. “I’ll admit I do not have the specifics yet. But logistically at least, it’s entirely possible. We’ll need,” he calculates a number real quick, “thirteen hundred pounds of column charge slurry, but if we have something high corrosive we can wrap up safely until detonation we’ll need even less. We can. Make that much. If we have Darnold’s help. We need access to Xen itself, which Tommy has the biggest chance to get. We’ll need to put the explosives deeper into the ground than surface level, so we’ll need to dig some holes, but with Doctor Coomer’s strength we can take care of that. And then we’ll need to trip it, and that might pose a problem in Xen’s climate, but we can manage a chemical fuse, or. Y’know. Just burn it hot enough to explode, which.”
He ends that speech with a vague and a bit jerky wave of his hand towards Bubby.
Bubby just blinks. “Huh.”
Benrey snickers under his breath, either at a fish or at Bubby’s reaction, Gordon doesn’t know. He wouldn’t even be able to guess, since Benrey still has his back to the entire commotion.
Gordon catches himself holding his breath, so he consciously exhales slowly. It’s okay. It’s whatever. He has twelve years. He can take some detours if necessary. He can forget, even. Maybe.
“That Doctorate turns out to be for something, huh,” Bubby continues. “That does sound pretty plausible, afterall.”
“Huh,” Gordon’s turn to blink. “Wait, that’s it? You’re in now?”
“Yeah, sure,” Bubby swings his arm out, “even though I’d like to be testy for a while longer, I also want to blow things up. Outside is very large, but it severely lacks opportunities to see things explode, so I’ll have to make it happen myself now.”
That’s a tiny bit worrying, but Gordon’ll take it. He’s used to Bubby being a tiny bit worrying anyway. Wouldn’t be Bubby without it.
“Now shoo,” Bubby turns around to fiddle with his fishing rod again, carefully moving it back to the optimal position, “you chased all the fishes off. Gonna have to start my work from the beginning now. It’s hard work tricking fishes, you know.”
“Don’t tell Coomer,” Gordon warns, “I want to let him know myself.”
“Sure, sure.”
“I’m serious.”
“Aren’t you ever.”
Gordon figures he’s done all he can on that front.
Benrey catches up with him when he’s walked away dramatically for a few minutes and is now at the main street of the town. “Rudeman.”
Gordon did forget him at the piers, so that’s on him. “Sorry, but also, do you have a plan to get us home, or what? ‘Cause I don’t have my car and I’m not hitching a random ride if I can help it.”
“Gotta... find a GameStop first. Score some Sports Champions 2 for the. PS3.”
“Alright.” Gordon nods. “Wait, do you need a GameStop to transport us? Is that a thing?”
“Huh,” Benrey just looks at him, and then pulls out his brick phone.
Gordon rolls his eyes, but then catches a glimpse of the screen, and sees the digital clock. “It’s- fuck, it’s almost five! Joshua’s almost home.”
“Oh look, no GameStop on the… roadside. What’re we gonna do.”
“Benrey, you- goddamnit,” Gordon frantically pulls his phone out of his pocket. He tries to yank his right arm out of Benrey’s hold to hold it steady, but Benrey doesn’t yield. “Fucking, let me,” he unlocks it and finds Joshua’s number, which is on top, because he added ‘01’ before his name, because he’s had plenty of experiences with arranging files so they don’t disappear on him, “c’mon, c’mon… Hey Joshie! Are you at school right now?”
“Hi Dad, yes,” Joshua answers, at the same time Gordon registers that he’s walking, Benrey pulling on his arm.
“Sorry I called in the middle of class, buddy, but we’re gonna. I’m gonna be a bit late home, okay? I’m outside right now, but I’m on my way- oh, no, we.”
They’re in his living room. Gordon puts his arm, just released, on top of the couch. This is his couch. The bowl of cereal he finished right before Benrey dragged him out’s still on the table. The PS3 lays silent in the TV cabinet, as it’s always been. He does go around the table to put his free hand on all of these things just to be sure.
“Dad?” Joshua asks from the other end of the line. “Are you okay?”
“I.” Gordon dry swallows. “No, yeah I- I got home. Me and Benrey were out for a bit and we got? Lost? But we found our way back, and I’m. I’m home now. I was really worried I wouldn’t make it back in time to open the door for you, so I called! But I’m home now.”
“That’s good!” Joshua says, even though Gordon can still hear worry in his voice. Sweet kid, his boy is. “Thank you for telling me in ad-advance.”
“I’m sorry I interrupted your class. Dad’ll be more careful next time.”
“It’s okay. What are we having tonight?”
Gordon takes a deep breath, holds it in for a moment, and then breathes it out, slowly. “We can have mac and cheese again, or we can try our hand at naan and make some soup to go with it,” he says, willing his voice to calm down. “We still have the yeast Ms. Juney gave us last month, right? We can go get bread flour when you’re home.”
“Okay.”
“Go back to class, buddy. See you soon, yeah?”
“Yeah. Can we have chowder tonight too?”
Gordon laughs. “We’ll look into it, but sure! If we can find the ingredients for it. Alright, bye now. Love you, honey.”
“Okay,” Joshua says again, and when Gordon’s about to move the phone from his ear, he adds, “Love you too, Dad.” And then he hangs up.
Gordon goes to the couch and sits down. He’s maybe cradling his phone a bit. It’s still warm from him gripping on it way too hard. Deep breath in, deep breath out.
“That went well, huh,” Benrey says, from the hallway. Gordon looks up to see him closing the door behind him, what looks like a copy of Sports Champions 2 for the PS3 in hand.
Gordon laughs, again, for real this time. “That’s- where'd you even get that?
---
They did make naan, or a version of it. Joshua likes messing with flour, Gordon caught him walking his fingers through the bowl, leaving tiny “footprints”. They couldn’t agree on a fish to put in the chowder, so they shelved that plan and bought some canned beef-and-vegetables soup instead. The naan turned out… fine. They tasted enough like naan, and Gordon only burned like two. Which was maybe thanks to the apartment’s stove top burning a bit less hot than it did the last time they used it; Gordon made a mental note to check on the gas or. Whatever one does. When that happened. He just needed to look up a number, call it, and stand next to the (hopefully) professional who would come while they did their work.
Benrey sat at the couch while the Freemans cooked and ate their dinner, either being on his phone or scrolling idly through the PS3’s library. Joshua asked if he could try and throw naan pieces into Benrey’s mouth from the kitchen table, which Gordon allowed, but with the preset limit of only three pieces, and the condition that he picked up the ones that missed himself. He then asked Benrey very politely if he could open his mouth to catch the bread, and then made a lot of mental calculations before throwing each piece. The first one missed, but the other two were snatched up by Benrey in a somewhat shark-like display, which Joshua clapped excitedly for.
Gordon heard Benrey come to the kitchen table, which Joshua was wiping off with the designated kitchen rag (the fourth one this month alone; it feels like someone’s eating them as they’re replaced sometimes), while he was cleaning the dishes. “Hey lil’ gamer dude,” Benrey said, and Gordon could hear him rustle around in a pocket of his puffy vest. “Scored big in the. Minigame.”
“Thank you,” Joshua replied politely.
“Here’s your price,” Benrey said. Gordon assumed Joshua was holding out his hands to receive whatever Benrey gave him, because he couldn’t hear any noise that thing made, just Joshua’s little excited gasp.
“It’s like the... Intarna-Internation… nal… Space Station!”
“Huh,” Gordon could hear Benrey blink, “that’s what it is…”
“Yeah! These are, here, they’re solar panels! They charge the batteries in here.”
“Nice.”
“Thank you Benrey!”
“Yeah, GG.” And then Benrey shuffled back to the couch, if Gordon interpreted the noises correctly.
Joshua held onto the price trinket until he asked Gordon to put it in the tool cabinet, along with the cake moulds and decoration kit courtesy of Gordon’s hectic MIT years. It was… Gordon could see why Joshua thought that was where it should go. It could be considered a cookie cutter, if the shape weren’t kinda suboptimal for a cookie. It also did look like the ISS, with wings and all.
Nobody in this household’s baked anything sweet in this apartment for at least a year, but. Well. Never say no to free, reusable stuff.
Gordon’s phone vibrates when he’s just sat down at the kitchen table again, a mug of garbage instant coffee in hand. He abandons it to go get his phone from where it’s charging on the living room table.
It’s Coomer. “It’s Coomer,” Gordon says out loud. “That’s weird- he’s. He doesn’t call.”
“He’s calling. Now.” Benrey says from where he’s sitting, on the couch. Gordon takes a deep breath and doesn’t deign it worth a rebuttal. He accepts the call instead.
“Hello Gordon! I heard you want to blow Xen up.”
Gordon pinches the bridge of his nose. “Bubby told you.”
“He did! In great details!”
“I- alright, whatever, I didn’t expect actual results with that one anyway.” Gordon remembers about his coffee. He comes back to where it’s waiting for him on the kitchen table, and takes himself a generous sip, letting it burn his mouth. “Fuck!” He sets the cup down maybe a bit forcefully. “Oh that’s a bad decision. What did- what did he tell you?”
Coomer takes a moment to gather his thoughts, leaving a blank minute where sounds of the wind and waves on the shore come through his mic. Gordon hopes he isn’t thinking about sleeping out there tonight, for the full nature flavor or whatever. “ A large part of his speech was about explosion! And how big and grand it would be. And also about how much he fucking hates Xen!”
“Glad we agree on that front,” Gordon mumbles.
“So am I! I also fucking hate Xen!”
“That’s. That’s fair, really, it’s a garbage place. But- did he, like. Have you heard anything about the actual plan? Did he tell you anything about the actual plan I definitely mentioned to him?”
Coomer pauses for another moment, probably to recall. “Nope! Not a word about a plan-”
“I fucking knew it,” Gordon mumbles.
“-though that is very thorough of you, Gordon!”
"Okay, listen,” Gordon picks his mug of coffee up and starts pacing. “I actually don’t… have all of it yet. I know me and Benrey are in,” he flicks his gaze to Benrey again, who does nothing to deny the statement, “and Bubby’s now in as well. I still need to- okay, the plan’s basically that we find or make enough explosive for the ten asteroids on Xen, we bury it at the core of said asteroids, and we blow that up so it blows Xen up. I have- I don’t know the specifics of how to make that much explosive yet, but I’ll convince Darnold somehow, and if he sits this one out then we’ll borrow his lab when he’s not using it. And I’ll ask Tommy about a way back to Xen, his. His dad’s done that plenty. He doesn’t seem to like Xen much, right? That’s the impression I got, so we can spin this into us doing him a favor or something. And then we transport the explosive to Xen, I can borrow a truck for that, I know someone, and then we dig into the ground there, that’s where we can really use your superstrength, and then we put the explosive in and. Set it on fire. Bubby, uh, agreed to take care of that.”
Another beat of silence follows Gordon’s speech. He seems to have been making that one a lot recently, mostly to himself, in his room, while writing things down in his notebook. He finds himself chewing on his own lip, so he makes himself stop and takes another gulp of the coffee, which has thankfully cooled down to gulp-appropriate temperature.
When Coomer speaks again, he seems to have chosen his words carefully. “I will need to ‘sleep’ on this, Gordon. You are right in your assessment that you do not have your plan together yet!”
Gordon takes a deep breath. “It’s okay,” he says, as much to Coomer as to himself. “It’s true. It’s half-thought up right now. I still need to figure out- figure out Darnold and Tommy and Mr. Coolatta. I, yeah,” his voice’s dropped to a mumble by now, “I think I need to sleep on it too.”
“Gordon.” The rustles that accompany Coomer’s voice gives the impression that he’s sitting down onto the pebble-littered beach as he speaks. “I would like to see Xen obliterated, and I think we can get it done.”
“That’s,” Gordon stops on his pacing in the kitchen, “That’s not. It’s okay if you’re not interested, Coomer. You don’t have to walk it back on me.”
“Please do not question my fucking hatred for Xen, Gordon.”
“O-okay.”
“But I am not in favor of hazy dreams anymore. I have gotten to see a lot during my ‘honeymoon’, and now I have broken free, and mere words on a script cannot placate me. I would like to see proof that it’s possible before I participate.”
Gordon takes a deep breath. “Okay.”
“I believe you can do it, Gordon!”
“Thank you,” Gordon says, a little bit dazed, while Bubby’s voice comes through from a distance at the same time, “Are you reciting poetry again?��
“In what distant deeps or skies, burnt the fire of thine eyes?” Coomer answers. “On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand, dare seize the fire?”
“Stop praising that tiger while I’m right here!”
“I’ll,” Gordon says before Coomer can get fully caught up in Bubby’s antics again, “I’ll come back to you with. The details. When I’ve hashed it out. Thanks for,” he exhales, “thanks for holding out for me, Coomer.”
“So it is, Gordon, so it will be!”
Coomer hangs up there, and Gordon sits down at the kitchen table again. He finishes the mug of coffee in one long gulp. It’s gone a little bit more room-temperature than he likes.
“Sleep on it,” he mumbles, “good advice.”
“You should. Do that.” Benrey says from the couch. “Sleep good for body for soul.”
“You know what, when you’re right,” Gordon says, and stands up and goes brush his teeth. He then sits down at his work table and writes down questions until four in the morning.
---
Gordon used to suck at making phone calls. He’s kind of a champion at it now.
Funny thing is there’s an epiphany to it as well: he didn’t grow up with cell phones, so making phone calls was a hierarchical thing for him until he was like. Twenty years old. Kids used the landline when absolutely necessary only, and adults used it whenever they damn well pleased, because they paid for it and they had businesses to take care of . And Gordon was… not much of a rule breaker, surprisingly enough. Oh he fell short of where rules lay plenty, but he didn’t really intentionally break them. So he took calls when his parents said he could and when he absolutely needed to, and that habit persisted well into his adulthood.
He might also just be not very good at holding his tongue when speaking and. That was no good for phone calls. Kiddies phone calls. ‘cause he just realized one day that adults said whatever the fuck they wanted on the phone really, and nobody chastised them for it, no divine punishment, no sudden death round.
A sermon on self-love, that was; Gordon just takes phone calls now. Worst case scenario, he just turns his brain off and lets his mouth do its work. When people don’t presume they know better than him, they don’t presume he’s talking out of his ass ninety percent of the time.
That’s- that’s what he thought. Gordon’s wrong, a little bit. He can be wrong. Has been wrong plenty before. He can correct himself, here, he’s gonna do it right now: worst case scenario, he has to recite his plan, conceived so far in total isolation from anyone he knows and whose opinions he cares about, to the person who’s the most skittish and averse to what his plan is bringing about among those people, over the phone, where he can’t see and gauge body language and facial expressions.
Gordon would… like to meet Darnold face to face for this. But. It’s work. It’s, well, it’s closer to work than to play, given that he’s gotten mildly stressed out over it, and their lunch at the only Taco Bell in the whole desert is strictly pleasant, not-work talk only. And Gordon really, really enjoys those lunch dates, because he never has to think about damage control or having an identity crisis in the middle of one. They’re just nice, normal, a tiny bit shouty (the Taco Bell is usually packed and the acoustic’s not good, but it’s a Taco Bell, and it’s a ritual now), mostly jovial, lunch with a friend, eating subpar food he’s learned to enjoy. They don’t talk about what happened at Black Mesa, they don’t talk about work in general, they don’t even talk about soda outside of appraising the gaudy color combinations for any new sponsored drink. They talk about Joshua, about Darnold’s cat Lumbar Support, about Coomer and Bubby’s travelling, about new game releases, about Sega vs. Nintendo, about the weather.
Gordon doesn’t want to fall short of where the rules lie, not this time. So he calls.
“Doctor Freeman?” Darnold answers with the title, which sets the tone pretty well. Gordon takes a deep breath and steels himself.
“Doctor Pepper.” He pauses. “Darnold. Hey. I, uh, I’ve got a thing I wanna ask.”
“Go ahead!” Darnold goes quiet for a moment, to finish his sandwich, Gordon’d guess. He’s called in the middle of Darnold’s lunch break. “I must preface however that we’re working outside of office hours, and I can only advise you at the moment. Anything further will have to go through the… official channels.”
“Okay, that’s alright. I just.” Gordon worries his lips. He realizes he’s tugging pretty hard on his left sleeve; he makes himself let go. “I have a. Plan. That’ll need your expertise.”
“I’d be delighted to help then! Feel free to share more.”
“It’s about, uh.” Gordon takes another deep breath. He’s been consuming a lot of oxygen recently. “IwanttoblowXenup?”
Darnold goes, predictably, quiet for a moment. It doesn’t sting less when it’s predictable.
When he speaks again, it’s in a clipped, professional-but-barely tone. “Please say that again, but slowly.”
Gordon closes his eyes against the sunlight streaming in from the window in his bedroom. “I want to. Blow Xen up.”
“Gordon,” Darnold sighs. “Doctor Freeman.”
“I know.”
“Your megalomaniacal tendencies have grown since we last met.”
“It’s not- I’m not doing it for fun!” Gordon throws his free arm up. “Okay, this is genuinely a lot of effort and stress for something I’d do for pleasure, Darnold. I also couldn’t care less about fucking Xen - okay that’s not true, I’ve lost like a week of sleep over blowing it up, that’s not not caring, but like. I can’t. I need it to not be there,” he stands up from his bed and starts pacing, “and I have. A plan. Half of one. About that much. So it’s not hopeless-”
“Gordon, please slow down.”
“-as long as I have your help and- and Tommy’s, okay, I will. uh.” He taps on his thigh with his free hand too, for good measure. Go the whole nine yard with fidgeting, why not. “I. So, Joshua wants to be an astronaut,” he intones, and for the first time in a while he’s reminded again of how this started, how it took over his life for a hot minute, and it almost gives him the hiccups, “and. Y’know. Xen is in space. So it needs to not be there anymore. So I want to. Blow it up.”
Darnold goes silent again. Gordon thinks he can hear the epiphany punch the air out of him. Fuck, he hates phone calls.
“As much as I want to berate you about how you’re treating this matter and yourself,” Darnold resumes primly after a moment, “my lunch break is ending in exactly fifty-two seconds, and this sandwich will take me another two bites to get through. I’ll see you in the Taco Bell’s parking lot at three AM this afternoon, Gordon. Drink water.”
He hangs up. Gordon goes drink water.
Benrey clips into the apartment when Gordon’s on his third mug of iced water. “Whoa, hydration streak,” he says, settling himself on the kitchen table.
“I can go a bit crazy,” Gordon mumbles. “I’m allowed a little bit of funk and insanity. This is my house.”
“It’s… actually. MFA’s.”
Gordon groans. “Don’t fucking remind me. I tried to forget that. Also it actually belongs to the NRC, since they apparently can just scare MFA into giving employees housing, which I’m really fucking horrified by, but I’m choosing to not think about it, and you can’t make me.”
“It can be mine soon.”
“Do not attack and dethrone Nils Diaz.”
Benrey huffs. “Killjoy Freeman.” He shifts his pose so he’s sitting up straighter. “You wanna… try out Premium Water? Free trial for a week, you can manually cancel your. Subscription. After.”
Gordon stares at him. “What’s Premium Water.”
Benrey opens his jaws, wide, showing his teeth. He points inside as if there’s anything Gordon wants to find at all in there at the moment. Then he closes it with a click and stares back at Gordon.
Gordon just sighs. “No, Benrey.”
“Guaranteed beddy bye time, no charge,” Benrey blinks at him. “Black Mesa Sweet Voice™ a hundred percent effective. Five stars… satisfaction… rating.”
“You’re fucking lying, because I’d never leave it five stars. You get three at best.”
“Gonna catch you when you fall off the. Chair. Gonna be romantic.”
Gordon laughs. “No, not allowed.” He sighs and finishes the mug of water like it’s mead and he’s some Dungeons and Dragons elven ranger. He gives himself brain freeze. “Ah, fuck, oof,” he slaps his own forehead, “bad decision. Bad decision. Okay, I. I appreciate you asking instead of just going for it, but that’s the reality of asking, right? The person you ask can say no. And you’ve just gotta learn how to deal with it.”
Benrey just keeps staring at him, but he’s used to that now. It’s only a tiny bit unnerving. “How’s learning’s... satisfaction rate.”
Gordon sighs again. “It sucks ass. Fucking hate learning.”
Benrey grins at him, and then he checks his phone and it’s already time to go.
“Drink this,” Darnold says immediately when Gordon climbs into the shotgun seat of his car, and holds out a beaker of bubbling purple liquid.
Gordon just stares at it. “Darnold, what is this.”
Darnold sighs. “It’s the Potion of Not Telling. I also drank a sample before coming here,” he holds up an empty beaker with some of the same purple liquid at the bottom. “It blows us up if we tell our employers what we’re up to.”
Gordon ponders this very carefully. “Does. Tommy, for example. Does he count as my ‘employer’?”
“No,” Darnold says. “‘Employers’ only cover people and/or establishments you’re currently under an employee contract with and receiving salary from.”
“Alright,” Gordon intones carefully, and downs the whole beaker. It tastes like… the jello packaged like seahorses Tommy brings over sometimes. The red ones, specifically. It makes him feel a bit bloated, immediately, and he rubs his side a bit anxiously when he sits down in the car. “You’re actually under NDAs at all times, huh,” he says, as an opening line.
“Same as you, Gordon.” Darnold takes the beaker back from Gordon’s hand and puts it in with the other one. “Black Mesa seeked me out and offered to find me a position in a brewery, as well as fund any of my independent ventures, as long as I do not say a word about what… transpired… back there. The official record’s that I was stranded on an island with curious dino-esque creatures for four years, instead of worked in Black Mesa’s mixology department, and honed my craft with their help, using the fruits native to that island.”
Gordon laughs, and rubs his face with the prosthetic hand. It’s like putting your face on the car’s dashboard. “Sounds like them alright. At least yours sounds exciting, instead of fucking insane. They said I was ‘chasing an entropy in the desert’ and it ‘ate my hand’. What the fuck does that even mean?”
“We attempted feats of miracle, only it was not under their accountability,” Darnold says, “and we were punished for it. No matter, we have more important things at hand. What is this plan you’ve cooked up, Gordon?”
Gordon takes a deep breath, finding it easier than it’s been for a while, and relays what he’s got down of the blow-Xen-up plan to Darnold. They never look at each other meanwhile, both staring at the cars lined up haphazardly in the lane across from them, Gordon in a barren calmness as words leave his mouth, Darnold with his arms crossed in front of his chest, his whole presence compacted into a contemplative, silent piece.
“That is an intense reaction to a faraway threat, Gordon,” Darnold says when Gordon’s speech is over. “Xen is not only at least a galaxy away, but also a few dimensions over, if I understand the briefing right. I haven’t thought about that wretched place for almost a year.”
“Sorry,” Gordon says, not really feeling any of it, but making the effort.
“You don’t have to. I understand where you’re coming from.” Darnold taps idly on his own arm. “I was… extracted… swiftly from Black Mesa after I met you and your friends. I did not witness what happened after, but I saw… enough.” He takes a deep breath as well. “We can all have intense reactions to anything.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s not maladaptive,” Gordon says. He’s gone to therapy. It was really good for helping him build a system that filters out the things that actually fucks him up and makes some sense of the rest, but it doesn’t lift him out of the comedy of his life itself. It can’t. That’s not what therapy’s for.
“Indeed,” Darnold says. “But I can’t be the judge of that. My domain lies with potion mixing, and I dare say I am a true expert at it, but I can’t claim expertise at other people’s life. Especially not yours.”
“I get it,” Gordon nods. The world kinda bobs a tiny bit when he does that. “I. Know not to indulge my impulse mostly. But sometimes decisions come back to haunt me, and those are usually just about choosing one furniture over another, or tying my shoelaces in the bunny ears way instead of the circle way and having them undone in the middle of a meeting and stepping on them and falling on my face, but this time it’s. It’s Joshua’s life. And there’s just no limit anymore to what can happen, not since.” He swallows. “Black Mesa.”
Darnold nods.
Gordon blinks. “I know it’s a little bit crazy.”
“It might be,” Darnold says, “but as a famous mixologist once said: nothing ventured, nothing gained. Even if that gain is just your peace of mind.”
Gordon lets out the breath he isn’t even aware he’s been holding. “Thank you.”
“You do not need to,” Darnold smiles, “I do stand to gain from this as well, since I really need to test this flavouring that���s supposed to land on pleasantly tart on the taste scale but goes into intestine-destroyingly sour territory instead. I need to know what makes it that corrosive, and testing on humans is entirely unethical.”
---
Gordon got home before Joshua. Benrey’s also not home. He lays down on the couch and takes a nap.
He wakes to a quilt over most of him, light turned on in the living room and in the kitchen, and silent chatter. His sense of smell kicks in a minute or so into him still laying on the couch, blinking up at the ceiling; he smells fish sauce and sugar cooking.
“Tommy’s over,” he mumbles.
“He awakes,” Benrey says, seemingly into thin air. Gordon feels the couch shift minutely as Benrey makes to stand up from where he’s sitting leaning back on it. “Good eatin’. I’ll go get the. Food. Coloring.”
When Gordon’s gathered enough of himself to sit up, Benrey’s nowhere to be seen. Tommy’s shifting something animatedly on the stove, while Joshua carefully carries one bowl at a time to the kitchen table.
“Hey Dad!” Joshua says when he catches Gordon’s eyes. He puts the bowl he’s carrying down to free his hand for waving. Gordon waves back.
“Hey Joshie, hey Tommy. What’re you guys making?”
“Caramelized pork b-belly!” Tommy says from his stove station. “And... sautéed vegetable medley.”
“With rice!” Joshua adds.
“A perfectly balanced meal.”
“I picked the vege-ta-bles!”
Gordon folds the quilt to busy his hands. This one’s definitely not his. He may have one somewhere in the closet, but it hasn’t made an appearance in… six months. He thinks. “What did you get for us, buddy?”
“Carrot!” Joshua holds up a finger. “It has a lot of vita- vitamin… A.”
“Awesome,” Gordon says and goes over to the kitchen table to high five Joshua. “What else did you choose?”
“String beans!”
“Oh?” Joshua hasn’t been much for that.
“Uncle Tommy’s gonna teach me how to eat them!”
“A dash of- of flavour, packed in one Kn●rr’s Complete Seasoning packet, is all you’ll need!” Tommy switches to a lower voice when Gordon peers over his shoulder at the pan on the stove. “That is not true. Kn●rr is only… fit to be- be on the floor.”
“Are- you’re not putting that in then?”
“No, I just use salt and pepper.”
Joshua giggles. Tommy extends a hand that Joshua can slap on in place of a high five.
Gordon gets out the utensils - spoon for Joshua, chopsticks for him and Tommy - and brings the rice cooker to the table once the light’s jumped to orange. He plates the pork, scooping Joshua’s helping into his personal plate first, while Tommy finishes with the vegetables. Tommy lets Joshua choose which vegetables to go on his plate; Joshua bravely gets a little bit of everything.
They eat dinner on top of companionable conversation, Gordon and Tommy taking turns asking Joshua about school and other things.
“I heard you want to- to be an astronaut,” Tommy asks. Joshua dutifully finishes his mouthful before answering.
“Yes! I want to go to space!”
“Do you want to meet- aliens?”
“Yeah!” Joshua’s excitement cools down a little bit as he scoops up another spoonful of rice with a piece of string bean carefully balanced on top. “I read the Wiki-pea-dia about it though. They say there’s no dis-discernable e-vidence of aliens yet. We sent the Voyager Golden Records an’ they haven’t… answered yet.”
“That’s how p-physical mails are,” Tommy smiles while getting himself a piece of the caramelized pork. “It used to take… weeks... before we hear from our friends who are far away. And the- the universe doesn’t have a… an Everywhere Wifi Network yet.”
Joshua shares a conspiratory look with Gordon and mouths not yet . Gordon laughs. Gordon’s clutching his bowl maybe a bit too tight.
“You can become an astronaut and- meet aliens. In space,” Tommy waves his chopsticks with a flourish.
“I’ll teach them what- what e-mails are!”
“It’ll take a- a lot of hard work, and you have to be able to eat string beans.” Tommy takes an exaggerated look at Joshua’s plate, now cleaned of food. “Oh! Would you l-look at that! Mister Joshua Freeman is… perfect astronaut materials, according to… the NASA guidelines.”
Joshua beams with a pride that knocks something loose in Gordon’s chest.
They finish dinner and clean up together, then Gordon sends Joshua back to his room to do his homework, agreeing to an hour of video game after if he can get it done before nine. Gordon cleans the dishes while Tommy puts the kettle on and makes them both hot chocolate.
“I bought some-something for Joshua today,” Tommy prompts. Gordon looks back to see him hold up the exact same cookie-cutter-thing Benrey gave Joshua the other day.
“Oh- oh my god.” Gordon laughs. “Holy shit?”
“Wh-what’s the matter, Gordon?”
“Do you guys have like a hivemind or something?” Gordon pulls off a glove to open the tool cabinet and pull Benrey’s gift out. “Benrey gave Joshua this. I don’t even- what’re these supposed to be? Where d’you guys even get them from?”
“It’s the- International Space Station Biscuit Cutter!” Tommy puffs out his chest, slightly indignant, but definitely bemused as well. “They’re issued by- NASA, cut from the s-scrap metal of the hulls of… prototype spaceships. They’re very rare!”
Gordon stares at the one in his hand. “And now we have two of them.”
“They’re… very valuable! You can sell them for a high price.”
Gordon smiles. He puts Benrey’s apparently rare and expensive gift back into the tool cabinet and puts the glove back on. “You’ve gotta ask Joshua about that. It’s for him, afterall.”
They fall into a comfortable silence, crumbled into grains only by the click-clack of dishes in the sink and the water running from the faucet. Gordon weaves himself into a solid piece of nerve, bracing, bracing.
Tommy’s… better acquainted with the crazies of these things than most, maybe. He’s apparently said “fuck it” to the administrative work that his dad would’ve liked to hand back to him at one point, and just. Got a PhD in nuclear physics instead. Gordon’s been through something like that, and from experience he can tell that it would’ve taken real nerve to do it. He also can tell that no matter what it still rubs off on you, and you don’t recover from that kinda consistent exposure to idiosyncrasies, because you don’t ever feel like there’s anything to recover from , really. It’s just how it is, and the world’s off-kilter, not you. Like Benrey, Tommy’s world runs on a different axis, and he and the rest of them are, in many ways, looking both through strange eyes.
Gordon’s a little bit jealous of that. He’s honestly not sure if he can ever fully get Tommy, but then. Plenty of people never get him, and here he is. He can learn to wear it as well as Tommy, one day.
Right now though. Tommy’s important to the plan. Gordon knows that, in a theoretical way. Ha, theoretical…
“I would like to not be insane,” Gordon says, more to himself, at the same time as Tommy setting his cup of hot chocolate down and saying, “Benrey… told me.”
“Oh… I. That’s? Good?”
“Wha- you’re not insane , Gordon!” Tommy waves his hand. Gordon can hear it, even if he can’t see it. “You’re… creative.”
“Thanks Tommy,” Gordon says with a huff of laughter that he doesn’t think reaches Tommy at all. “I. I get it though. I got Bubby to turn around on it, but everyone else did say that it’s a little bit fucked up that I thought of doing that at all.”
“But they… agreed on helping you anyway.”
Gordon taps on the metal wall of the sink. “That’s… yeah. Well, other than Coomer.”
“Doctor Coomer doesn’t think you’re crazy,” Tommy protests. “He just has... boundaries.”
“That’s fair. He’s allowed that. He more than deserves that.” Gordon blinks. “Wait- why am I arguing down on my side? I need you to be on board for the plan to work.” He laughs, bowing down over the sink. He’s shaking a little bit. “Wow. I’m a little bit gone. Can I be a little bit gone?”
“You’re… totally allowed, Gordon” He feels Tommy tug on his elbow. With a deep breath, he lets go of where he’s gripping on the edge of the sink with white knuckles, and lets Tommy lead him to the kitchen table. He dutifully sits himself down on a chair, lets Tommy take off the gloves, and holds the cup of hot chocolate Tommy pushes into his hands carefully. “It’s your house.”
“It’s MFA’s.”
“It’s yours,” Tommy says, determinedly, and Gordon takes a deep breath and sidesteps every implications that has. “You can have your fears, and… and your plans, and your hopes. For Joshua. It’s your place, Gordon.”
Gordon takes a shaky sip of the hot chocolate. Tommy puts on the gloves and finishes washing the dishes for him.
“Sorry,” Gordon says, mostly aiming at the dishes thing, but. He also just kinda wants to put that out there.
“There’s nothing to be… be sorry for,” Tommy replies, amidst the noises of the dishes and the water running.
Tommy talks while Gordon drinks his hot chocolate; in the end, whether he wants to or not, he’s accepted a bit of the job the Gman holds. Gordon knows this, that’s how Tommy vouched for and kept the Science Team from a much worse fate than relative freedom except for a story no sane man’d believe anyway. Mister Coolatta Senior seemed to be impressed by the choice, aside from all the worries that come with it.
“He’s… he’s proud of me,” Tommy says, softly. “I know he only wants what’s best for me.”
“He’s been awfully accommodating,” Gordon says, remembering about the movie night they had after Tommy’s birthday bash last year. That man pulled a gun on him. As if he’d walk out on Tommy, if Tommy’d asked for him to stay around.
“He… doesn’t involve me… with his problems,” Tommy says. “Some parents do that.”
Gordon can’t find anything to say to that, so he finishes his hot chocolate.
“I got a vote when they brought Xen up the-the other day,” Tommy says, when the dishes have all been cleaned and put on the rack to dry. He pulls out the chair next to Gordon and picks up his cup of hot chocolate. It’s still steaming, somehow. “I-they were thinking it was- it’s too risky to leave a bridging point open like that. They want to… demolish it.”
Gordon chuckles, and then it becomes a full body laugh, and then he’s curling up on himself, the empty cup between his hands. He shouldn’t clutch it like this, it might break. He’s broken the handle off of a mug before, when one of his old prosthetic wasn’t calibrated perfectly. He can’t stop laughing though. Not enough to let go of the cup now.
“Holy shit,” he wheezes. “holy motherfucking shit. We’re doing it. We’re doing it? Xen’s fucking going down.”
“It sure is!” Tommy says, and claps a polite golf clap for Gordon’s victory.
---
Gordon does have shit he needs to do for the online classes he teaches, but outside of it he’s still way too idle. He and Joshua go to the aquarium and the museum whenever the schedule works out, and once in a while they drive by Roswell to catch a plane taking off into the sky, and he does grocery runs and tries to clean around the house and do laundry on a timetable, and there’s always the PS3 Benrey dragged back that’s now public good, as well as his probably too long Steam list, but. Gordon’s shit at talking himself into and out of doing things. Sometimes it just doesn’t feel right to start doing something, so there’s a black hole of time between him thinking “I should get to this” and him actually doing it. And Joshua’s life isn’t just him; his son’s going to school now, and he’s made friends at school, and he talks to them on the phone and goes hang out with them on weekend afternoons.
Gordon’s not as good at holding onto time anymore, now that things’ve. Changed.
So figuring the explosives out’s been good for him. It’s just what he does back in uni again, except without a supervisor, without having to write anything down properly (just legibly’s enough), and without peer review. It’s mostly math, but with the spirit of two middle schoolers stealing sodium crumbs from the school lab to throw into puddles. It’s closer to play than he expected. Closer than playing Horse Simulator 3D on the PS3.
He and Darnold spend the day building the corrosion rate equation, pouring Darnold’s concoction on rocks Gordon figures have the same make-up as the ground on Xen. Benrey doesn’t bring the venture up often, but every other day Gordon finds clumps of dirt and random rocks that weigh suspiciously little for their size in his glove compartment. He brings those in for the pour test as well, and they build a simulation based on them.
Balancing the corrosion with the heat’s a bit tricky; Gordon needs to know how hot Bubby’s ignition can go, since their number’s high. He was about to shoot Bubby a call when Coomer’s latest photo arrived. Gordon recognized the street in it.
They put the project on hold for an afternoon so Tommy and Darnold can have the lab to decontaminate Coomer and Bubby. Gordon spends that afternoon getting the air fryer he ordered last week out of the box while Benrey reads the manual out loud wrongly. He calls Joshua to let him know they’re having guests over that evening, thankfully in the middle of the school recess this time. Gordon tries to remember Joshua’s exact timetable at school, he really does. It’s just not fruitful a task.
When Joshua arrives home, Gordon’s in the middle of arguing with Bubby over how much water’s left in air fried food. “Hey Granpa! Hey Bubby!” Joshua waves at Coomer and Bubby, “hey Uncle Tommy! Hey Doctor Darnold! Hey Benrey! Hey Dad!”
Gordon steals the chance to close the air fryer while Bubby’s joining in with the “Hey Joshua!” chorus and distracted. “We’re making spring rolls and egg rolls!” He calls after Joshua, who’s in his room putting his backpack away. “You can choose the filling yourself!”
The kitchen barely fits everyone, so comes dinnertime they move the living room table up next to the TV cabinet to make space for the spare straw mat, and lay out a tablecloth on top for good measure (Gordon’s had enough experience to remember to do that). They sit on the floor in the living room together, almost shoulder to shoulder, and at some point the conversation gets away from Gordon entirely. He just nods when Joshua points at something he wants and gets some in the bowl for him.
“I’ve heard somebody wants to become an astronaut,” He hears Coomer say at one point.
Joshua puffs out his chest proudly.
“Doesn’t everybody at some point,” Bubby says. “I wanted to be an astronaut too, when I was forty.”
“Oh I have seen the photos,” Coomer continues, a gentle light in his eyes, “It is very beautiful out there.”
Joshua asks for help with his homework after dinner, and Tommy and Darnold sit down with him for that. Benrey joins Gordon at the sink while he’s pouring dish soap into one of the large bowls they used. He doesn’t know what to do but blink at him, dumbfounded.
“Check this out,” Benrey says, and spits lime green into the sink. When the light clears, the dishes have become spotless.
Gordon stares at the sink. “I- you- th- is that- you can do that? ” He points at the plates. leaning on the sink’s edge.
Benrey grins. “New… new skill acquired bro. Just got the EXP for it.”
“You spent your EXP on dish cleaning ?”
“We should conserve water, Gordon!” Coomer declares from behind him next to the kitchen table. “Water shortage is caused by corporate greed, but with certain individual actions we can improve the situation ourselves!”
“Please don’t kill Mark Schneider.”
“Worry not, Doctor Freeman! His death will not be by my hand directly!”
Gordon laughs, helplessly. “Everything happens so much,” he laments, only semi-jokingly, as he takes off the cleaning gloves and puts the plates on the rack.
“Keep up, Doctor Freeman,” Bubby says.
“They certainly do,” Coomer says, much more nicely. “I’ve heard your plan is soon coming to fruition!”
Gordon nods. “Yeah, it’s. Yeah. We were,” he swallows, “Darnold and I, we were about to ask for Bubby to let us test his fire. Figure out if he can reach the ignition point we need.”
“Well now, that sounds like a challenge,” Bubby says.
Gordon finds a price tag still stuck on one of the bowls that he’s very sure wasn’t there when it was brought out. “Benrey,” he groans. Benrey just gives him a shit eating grin. “You’ll need to hold a temperature for about three minutes, and then the mixture takes care of the rest,” he says to Bubby, while swatting Benrey on the shoulder.
“Just three minutes, isn’t it.”
“Do not try and stay for more. I’m serious. When it explodes it’s gonna turn seriously corrosive. You’re gonna be sludge ten seconds after it gets on you.”
Gordon can hear Bubby blink. “Oh- oh. This is serious huh. We are blowing Xen up.”
“We are, darling,” Coomer affirms.
Bubby shifts on his chair. “I’ll need. A minute.”
When Gordon’s done with the dishes, he turns back to the kitchen table to catch Bubby letting go of Coomer after a hug. “Son of a bitch, you went for it, you motherfucker,” Bubby says, a bit too loudly, fixing his glasses.
Benrey sings a very high note over his voice. “Language!” Gordon hisses.
“Oh, sorry.” Bubby pats his own mouth. “Forgive a man, I’m still working through it.” He switches to a mumble, seemingly only to himself. “It’s real. I’m gonna set Xen on fire. Gonna show Black Mesa what for. It’s really gonna happen…”
Coomer pats Bubby on the back lightly, making him almost hit his face on the table. “We’ll finally move fully away from the game, my dear Professor,” he says, and he’s smiling. He’s smiling very wide.
“I can be your Professor,” Bubby mumbles. “I can blow Xen up.”
“ We can blow Xen up,” Gordon corrects him. “Me and Darnold didn’t agonize over a- darn modifier for a week and a half so you can set our work on fire and take all the credits.”
“Hush, let me process things, you rude bastard.” Benrey censors bastard with another burst of pinkish light.
“I can see the other end,” Coomer says, cheerfully. “Now, Gordon, I’ve heard you need help digging into the core of a few asteroids?”
---
They mark a date for the excursion.
He ‘woke up’ early, and made himself and Joshua an actual breakfast for a change while Benrey finished off the box of cereal that was open. “Dad’s got a work thing coming up,” he told Joshua while scooping extra egg onto his plate. “I’m gonna have to stay on site for a night.”
“So you’re not going home tonight?” Joshua asked, taking the plate handed to him by Gordon, but making no move to go back to his chair.
Gordon nodded. “I’ll be home tomorrow though, but you’re gonna have to stay at your grandparents’ tonight. I’m gonna come pick you up at their place tomorrow afternoon. You should pack a spare change of clothes and your pajamas to bring to school.”
“Okay,” Joshua said. And then, “What’re you staying on-site for?”
“I’m,” Gordon said, “Okay, you can’t tell anyone this, yeah? I’m blowing asteroids up.”
He could see Joshua’s eyes brighten. It was visible . “ In space ?”
“Yes,” Gordon laughed. “But it’s very experimental, which means…”
“It’s not ready for the public eye yet,” Joshua whispered, almost reverently.
Gordon laughed again, and took off the mitten on his hand to ruffle Joshua’s hair. “You’re gonna be okay staying at your grandparents’ place? If you don’t like that I can ask someone else to come over instead.”
“It’s okay,” Joshua said, finally content to go sit down again. “Can I bring my skate shoes?”
“Sure thing, put them in a bag.”
Gordon called Joshua’s grandparents to let them know to pick him up at five (Joshua chimed in to ask them to remind him about the roller skates), and then Joshua got his backpack and spare clothes and bag for the shoes and the house was once again vacant.
They don’t have a vehicle, but Tommy sings and Bubby joins in and Darnold keeps a beat and after a while Benrey starts playing songs out of the shitty speaker on his phone. Gordon’s even spent the day before sleepless, but that’s kind of everyday now. He hadn’t anticipated having to get used to a day having twenty four hours again, but well. He hadn’t anticipated anything while going through Black Mesa, really. It wasn’t really ideal thinking-far-ahead environment.
Benrey seems bouncier when he’s on Xen. Gordon didn’t think about it, but when he steps through the portal he has a flash of that image from what feels like a lifetime ago: Benrey giant as the Earth itself, blocking everything else in sight, his form longing to catch up with his already immense, oppressive presence. Taller than any walls, any mountains, any barriers between himself and a measly human’s fleeting existence.
Gordon shakes his head. At his least incomprehensible, Benrey’s said it was “a show”. “Like. Cable TV. A television series,” Gordon’s asked.
“Like a cutscene,” Benrey’s replied, as if Gordon was the one too slow for the course.
Benrey now felt nothing like whatever that was that happened to him and the Science Team last year. Benrey now felt just… like a dude. Doing a barrel roll, while saying “Ooooo barrel roll” with a straight face. While his Nokia 2700’s still crushing whatever song it’s playing into oblivion.
Gordon doesn’t deal in implications anymore, so he starts singing along to whatever everyone else’s singing as well, and focuses on carrying their homemade Xen-specific dynamite blocks to where they’re going to dig their largest hole into the core of this wretched piece of rock.
It takes a day, kind of; he doesn’t sleep, out here in the thin atmosphere of Xen, where the stars don’t blink and red light comes in a hue from inside the dirt. He doesn’t have to force himself to go lay down at midnight like back home, he just sits down, at the edge of the portal, when the explosives have all been installed, and watch Coomer and Bubby ready themselves.
They can hear Bubby’s cackles ringing in Xen’s air and also in their comms, as he lays in Coomer’s arms and they race the fire, starting from the outer ring of asteroids to the main Xen island. They jump from rock to rock, red light trailing after them while the dirt itself breaks apart, not with a boom, but with the sound of bubbles breaking after a wave crashes on the shore. Xen glows brighter than it probably ever has, in its disintegration.
Benrey sings a few vacant notes, standing on nothingness; the light from his mouth blends in almost perfectly with Xen’s dying light.
“You got all of your belongings outta there?” Gordon asks, half as a jab, half serious. “Didn’t leave anything important in your old apartment?”
Benrey doesn’t answer, for a moment. When he does, it’s just to mumble, “oh look, there’s fireworks.”
---
They got home early from it.
Gordon takes a nap on the couch; he only wakes up from Benrey turning the sound up to max and then shooting a rocket at a truck in Far Cry 3. “Dude,” he throws an arm up over his face, and winces when it’s the plastic arm. “What the fuck.”
“Go pick Joshua up,” Benrey says, definitely too conversationally, and barely understandable under the noises from the game. “Gordon. Sleepman.”
“You’re slipping,” Gordon comments as he wrestles himself out of Tommy’s quilt. He forgot to give it back to Tommy, he realizes sleepily, picking up the phone he left charging on the living room table. It’s seven already.
The drive to Joshua’s grandparents’ place is not a long one. He finds Joshua sitting at the porch of the little house, backpack and the bag with the roller skates at his feet. Joshua jumps up at the sight of Gordon’s car, and before he can walk through the gate he’s already found his arms full of his son.
Joshua clings to his neck with a death grip. “I’m sorry I’m late,” Gordon says. “I was tired, so I took a nap, and forgot the time.”
“It’s okay,” Joshua mumbles, “you were tired.”
“I blew up so many asteroids though.” Gordon says, and Joshua laughs.
They drive home after saying goodbye to Joshua’s grandparents (Joshua’s grandpa put a wrapped up pot pie in Gordon’s hands with an iron grip and a gaze that communicated clearly what would happen if he refused it), and Joshua agreed to take a detour to the Roswell airport for the night. Gordon absentmindedly texts Benrey taking the kid to watch airplanes, get your own food , and puts his phone away for the drive. The radio’s on, but Joshua doesn’t sing along. Gordon’s vocal cord’s still tired from Xen (no more, Xen-no-more it is, there’s just a vast of empty space inbetween dimensions there now) so he also stays silent.
They get ice cream at a drive-thru on the way, and then they’re at the highway, parking on the roadside, looking over the rail at the airport. A plane leaves the ground there and goes into the air. Gordon’s struck by how different it is from a bird or a moth; nothing about the plane communicates any internal movement, it just. Moves. Up and up. Like a JPEG sliding across the screen under someone’s puppeteering with a mouse.
Joshua stares at the plane, unblinking. “Is it dangerous in space, Dad?” He asks.
Gordon taps his hand on the steering wheel. “It’s.” He starts saying, but stops to clear his throat. “It can be. There’s a lot of math going into making things that bring a human into space, and a lot of different people doing different parts of that math, and. Sometimes some people do their math wrong. Sometimes they try something new, and we don’t have the good math for that new thing yet. Sometimes new things break into the old math, and we need to. Work around that new thing.”
“What happens if,” Joshua swallows, “someone does the math wrong?”
“We try to catch it,” Gordon says. “That’s why there are so many people doing the math. So if someone gives the wrong answer, they can spot it early, and fix it.”
“What if nobody does,” Joshua says. He’s still looking through the car’s window, at the stroke of cloud the plane’s long flown past.
Gordon puts his hands on the gear stick. “That’s very, very rare to happen,” he intones carefully. “They have to check, over and over, before they send a ship into space.”
Joshua turns from the window to Gordon. He looks at Gordon’s prosthetic hand, on the gear stick. “I’ve only found books about spaceships that have gone to space,” he says, quiet.
Gordon turns over, and holds out that hand. Joshua climbs over the gear stick to give him another hug. “Experiments are important to those ships too,” Gordon says. “They give the people who make the ships important information to make them safe.”
Joshua just buries himself in Gordon’s arms.
“I’m really sorry I came home late and didn’t call you, Joshua,” Gordon says, and hugs his son tighter. “I won’t do that again. I’ll always call when I’m home late.”
“I don’t have to be an astronaut,” Joshua mumbles.
“Oh, no- nononono, listen,” Gordon says into his hair, with all the determination he can muster up. “Listen, Joshua, you become whoever you want to, okay? You don’t have to be anything, but you don’t have to not be anything either. That’s my mistake, you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re good. You’re good. You’ll be an incredible astronaut. You’ll be the first man on Mars. Jupiter, even.”
“Jupiter is a gas giant,” Joshua mumbles. “There isn't any land to land on.”
Gordon nods. “That’s why it’s called landing , I get it.”
---
They drive home after, and Joshua asks to sit with Gordon while he and Benrey play Mario Kart. Gordon agrees, which means he has to clamp down on any curse he almost lets out when someone bumps him off the damn road, while Benrey does some magic or whatever on his screen. Who the hell knows.
After their third match, Benrey elbows Gordon in the arm to signify a break. “Beddy bye hour,” he says, not even looking at Gordon, “for… babies. Hattrick means I make the rules.”
“You didn’t come first in the second match,” Gordon argues, but quiets down when he looks down to see Joshua asleep leaning on him. “Okay, don’t fucking choose Toon Link for me again while I’m away,” he points a finger at Benrey, who’s residing smugly in the to-be-chaos of his own making. “I’m fucking serious.”
He carries Joshua to his bedroom and tucks him in, and then detours to the kitchen for some water.
“Ooh, hydration,” Benrey comments idly.
“What d’you know about it,” Gordon mumbles when he settles back down on the couch. He looks at the TV screen to find Inkling on one of the shitty bikes. “What the hell man, this bike sucks ass. Fucking Shit Taste McGee over here.”
Benrey laughs.
Gordon plays the game, while thinking about the sendoff party they’re throwing for Bubby and Coomer next week, before the grandpas go off gallivanting in yet another forbidden corner of the Earth. Coomer lovingly calls it their “honeymoon”, but Gordon has full faith this is gonna be what they do forever. Or at least until they’re bored of Earth, and start aiming for the Moon instead. Probably not a bad place to be in.
“Thinking Xen thoughts, aren’t’cha,” Benrey says, while sending a shell after some poor computer character.
Gordon grins. “Ha! Sike! I’m not even thinking about Xen.” He pauses, catching the full force of a fireball a Mario shoots at him. “I haven’t thought about Xen at all actually. Since I got home with Joshua.”
“Achievement unlocked,” Benrey says, and extends a hand. Gordon stares at it.
“Wh- huh?”
“High five, idiot.”
“Oh,” Gordon says, and slaps that hand. Benrey’s eyes widen at the noise.
“Yo that’s a. Crunchy noise.” He claps his hands together, and he’s laughing now, light flowing out in a thread of something like baby blue. “This rules,” he says happily.
Gordon smiles, and then some motherfucker flings a shell at him, so he falls off the road again.
He stays up way too late again, and time doesn’t stop slipping, and when Darnold gives him a vial of neutralizer for the Potion of Not Telling at their little party the week after it gives him something like mania and he hugs Coomer like an idiot while the old man slaps his back in a motion that’s supposed to be comforting. He sleeps that off as well afterwards, and wakes up to Tommy surfing the channels on his TV, complaining about lack of daytime talk shows. When he forgets about the scheduled blackout a month after, he still calls the concierge with shaking hands and then climbs into his bed like he’s four again and there’s a storm outside. He still thinks about Black Mesa, and about Xen.
There’s just a little addendum now, that he can remind myself of.
It’s weird how quickly it blends into everything else, but. Well. It’s weird everything .
He makes cookies again, comes the winter, and teaches himself how to decorate cookies, just to have something to do. Joshua throws his pencil onto the notebook one day to go dig out the lumpy, supposedly-ISS-shaped cookie cutters from the tool cabinet.
“Careful,” Gordon calls after him.
Joshua toddles back with the cookie cutters in hand. “Can we have ISS cookies?” He asks.
Gordon says yes. He also looks up a buncha references, prints them out, and tries to get the cookies exactly correct, making two “outside” cookies and an “inside” one, with schematics of the inner chambers of the ISS drawn on. Joshua loves it.
“Here’s where the astronauts sleep,” He points at the spot that’s supposed to be the service module, and Gordon’s proud of getting that part right on the cookie.
He ruffles Joshua’s hair again. “Hey, maybe you’ll sleep there in twenty years,” he says, and marvels at the levity to that sentence. Just a little bit. It’s washed away with Joshua’s smile, and then they busy themselves with folding bags for the cookies instead.
#hlvrai#gordon feetman#joshua freeman#benrey#tommy coolatta#dr. harold coomer#bubby#darnold pepper#fanfiction#ask to tag#+ one art inside but it mostly has to do with the fic#I will. draw more from this fic and put them in as time goes on#the formatting's a bit wack bc I just copied the formatting from ao3#I will come back to fix stuff up later#okay now I take more naps#have a good day! and also thank you for reading this fic if you do!
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Jealous Minds Part 2
Author: Hannahc56
Word Count: 3,391
Request: Hi! Can I put in a request for a dean x reader? Dean and the reader are friends with benefits and neither want a relationship because they’re too much pressure for both of them being hunters. But then during a case, YN runs into an old boyfriend and they actually had a great relationship and broke up because he had to move for work and they both got out to catch up and Dean is super jealous because he wants that same type of relationship with her. (Sorry if it’s too much. LOVE YOUR WORK!!!)
PART ONE
A few hours had passed and you found yourself eagerly waiting for Daryn to pull into the gravel parking lot of the motel. You had put on a nice pair of jeans, without blood or holes, and a nice black tank top. You’d popped in a pair of earrings you always had sitting in the bottom of your bag that you never got to wear. With a few quick swipes of mascara, you were as dolled up as you were going to get. It wasn’t much, but you felt alright and put together for once and a small part of yourself wish you could do this more often. It was nice to feel pretty every now and then, but your lifestyle didn’t call for a nice manicure or decent clothes. Loud pounding on the door pulled you out of your thoughts, as you took one more look at yourself in the mirror before running to open it. The smile fell off your lips when the door revealed Dean. His face was hard, it was obvious he was in deep thought. When he looked up and saw you, his expression softened. The two of you stood there while he took every inch of you in. A heat rose to your cheeks and you cleared your throat.
“Can I help you with something?” You asked, leaning your arm on the door. Dean’s eyes shot up to yours and he slightly shook his head.
“I-I just wanted to come and,” he hesitated, licking his lips, “Wish you good luck on your date.” He finished. You rolled your eyes and sighed.
“Funny, Dean. See ya.” You turned to shut the door, but his hand sprawled across it.
“No, I mean it,” He nodded, “I know how much you cared about Daryn, I-I hope that it goes alright.” He said, letting his hand fall away from the door. You stared at him, your brows crunched in confusion of what sort of scheme he was playing at. His eyes darted back and forth between yours as your brain searched for words to string together to respond. When you didn’t say anything, his eyes fell to the ground and he nodded slow. “You look nice.” He said, his lips in a tight smile, “Anyways, have fun.” He finished, before turning and walking away, leaving you standing in the doorway. You blinked, trying to process the words that’d just come from his lips. Your heart felt like a cinder block in your chest. You let your hand fall to the door knob and slowly pushed the door shut. You leaned against it, your mind running a million miles a minute. Across the room from you was a dusty mirror, only your reflection stared back at you. Why was your heart pounding in your chest? Why were you even going on this date? Was this even to be considered a date? Before you could answer any of the questions that rattled around in your mind, a loud knock from behind the door you were leaning against shook you out of the deep consciousness you’d fallen into with a jump. Maybe Dean was back - maybe he was going to tell you not to go, that the two of you would spend the rest of the night tangled up in the scratchy motel sheets, whispering throughout the night, stealing kisses on exposed skin. The thought alone had you ready to bolt out of your room to find him. You turned and opened the door, Dean’s name about to fall off your tongue, when your eyes fell on Daryn.
His eyes shimmered when he saw you, a smile lighting up his face. Your expression dropped for a moment, before you forced a smile. He pulled a small bouquet of roses from behind his back and flashed his picture perfect grin at you.
“Daryn, these are beautiful,” You shook your head and accepted the gesture, “You shouldn’t have.” You turned and set them down on the table beside you. He threw a hand up and waved.
“Hey, it’s the least I could do,” He laughed, as you pulled the door shut, locking it behind you. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at you as if he was memorizing every detail of your face. Color rose to your cheeks and you looked down. “You ready?” He asked, your eyes floating up to meet his again. You nodded and followed him as he walked over to his car, a new sporty car that surely was meant to be impressive. He walked with you to the passenger side and held open the door for you as you got in. Right as you sat down, you heard someone call your name from down the motel strip. You looked around, scanning for someone underneath the overhead flicking lights of the walkway until your gaze fell on Dean. He waved a hand at Daryn, who hesitantly waved in return.
“Have her back by midnight alright? Trust me, you don’t wanna see what she looks like when the fairy godmother’s spell wears off.” He laughed, throwing a wink in your direction sarcastically before turning towards the motel room door and walking in. Daryn pulled open the driver side door and slide in the low-riding seat. His eyebrows were crunched in confusion as he looked over at you.
“So, do you guys usually share rooms or?” He trailed off, the awkward tension in the air filling the small cabin quickly. You felt embarrassment rise to your face as you shook your head, trying to laugh it off.
“No, no, most definitely not, he just was probably grabbing something from the room, I guess,” You struggled to string together a sentence and rubbed your hands against your thighs nervously. Daryn let out a strangled laugh and started the car without saying anything more. You looked out your window, silently cursing the older Winchester as your heart fluttered at the thought of the things the two of you did behind locked motel room doors.
The ride to the bar was mostly quiet, the sound of the radio filling the spaces where neither of you could manage the right words to say. When you pulled up, Daryn escorted you to a booth in the corner. The place was packed. It was loud, lights strobing every second, making it hard for you to make out where you were walking, and you struggled to imagine how fun it would be to actually get drunk in this type of atmosphere. The bass music of the loud rap made your chest rumble and you found yourself yearning for a biker bar, squeezed between the boys at the bar while classic rock played from a jukebox.
“Y/N? Y/N/N?” Daryn said your name and you shook yourself out of your daydream.
“I-I am so sorry, was I spacing out?” You ran a hand through your hair and took a breath, letting out a light laugh, “Long day, you know how it goes.” You gave him a grin. He nodded and waved down the bartender before turning his attention back to you.
“I was just saying how great you looked tonight,” He said, his tone genuine and inviting. You couldn’t fight the smile that rose to your face thinking of the memories the two of you shared.
“Well thank you Daryn,” You tucked the hair behind your ears and leaned forward on the table, “You don’t look half bad yourself.” You beamed at him. Before he could answer, the bartender stepped up and asked for your orders.
“I’ll take a-” You began, but Daryn reached out and laid his hand on top of yours, effectively stopping you in your tracks.
“I’ll take a beer and the beautiful lady will have a Vodka Cranberry please, extra cranberry.” He told the bartender as she nodded and walked off. A feeling you couldn’t put a name to filled your chest. Was it nostalgia? Or was it disappointment? You flashed him a quick smile. “Not too bad for not seeing you for this long, I still remember your favorite drink.” He laughed, reaching over and grabbing your other hand with his other hand, focusing entirely on you.
“No, I’m impressed, that was pretty good. I gotta tell you though, I’m more of a whiskey bourbon kinda gal these past few years.” You said, trying not to visibly shiver as the thought of a Long Island Iced Tea hangover. His eyes grew wide for a moment before he let out a breath.
“Wow, you?” He shook his head, “Now that surprises me. You could hardly keep it down when we were younger.” He chuckled, bringing back memories of your high school days, sneaking around drinking your parents alcohol.
“Well yeah,” You snorted, “We were drinking rubbing alcohol it seemed like, we had the nastiest stuff.” You felt yourself thinking of all the times you’d use a fake ID to get the cheapest vodka you could find, only for it to taste twice as bad the second time later on in the night.
“Yeah, yeah, that led to some pretty rough nights,” He agreed, squeezing your hands softly, “But also some of the best nights too, you know?” He finished, his voice softening as his expression did. And there it was - that same pang in your chest. The more it happened, the more it began to feel like disappointment seeping through your lungs. He stared at you, his iri’s moving from your E/C eyes to your lips. You nodded and pulled your hands out of his, pretending to scratch the back of your neck. He leaned back in the booth, your mind grasping for things to talk about.
“So, what have you been up to? You were at State College for half the first year then disappeared off the face of the earth, no one knew where you went.” He pried, your heart sinking to the bottom of your chest. God, anything but that question. You cleared your throat and tried to force eye contact, but the topic proved too difficult.
“T-That’s a very fair question,” You let out a laugh that came out more like a sigh, “I-I just needed some time off, I traveled for a while,” You said slowly, which wasn;t necessarily a lie, “And just needed to figure out what I wanted to do with my life.” You finished, trying to tell him as much of the half truth that was possible without getting too much into the nitty-gritty. It was true, technically. You did travel while hunting monsters with the brothers and you did struggle with what you wanted to do for awhile; keep fighting the good fight or take a stab at the apple pie life. He nodded slow, as if he was ingesting what you were telling him and you prayed he wasn’t overanalyzing it too much. The holes in your story would be too large for him not to notice how it didn’t add up. “Anyways,” You scrambled to try to change the subject, “What made you want to become a ranger? I never would have pegged you for the type.” You asked right as the bartender brought over your drinks. He smiled while looking down the neck of his beer, thinking of his answer. Before he had the chance, you phone rang in your pocket. You struggled to get it out of the small compartment of your tight jeans and threw a hand up to him and he nodded. The phone vibrated as Dean’s name flashed across the screen. Throwing your legs off the side of the booth, you made your way outside to answer.
“Dean?” You tried, holding the phone to one ear while you pressed a hand over the other. Mumbles came through the other end that sounded like gibberish. “Dean, I can’t hear you, gimme a second.” You said, hoping he could make out your words better than you could of his. As soon as your reached the parlor doors to the outside, you called his name again through the phone. “Okay, sorry about that, what’s up?” You asked, shoving your hand in your pocket.
“Y/N,” Dean said, his voice raw, causing your heart to plummet, “Something’s wrong, you need to get back here,” He coughed, hardly audible on the other end.
“Dean, talk to me, what’s going on?” You asked, panic rising in your tone.
“J-Just come home,” He wheezed before the line went dead. Your hands shook slightly, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You turned on your heel and ran through the crowd, bumping into people and elbowing your way through them. When you reached Daryn, his soft expression had turned to a look of confusion.
“Daryn, I have to get back, something’s wrong.” You shook your head, trying to settle your hands as Daryn quickly got up from his seat and threw a few bills down next to your untouched drinks. Without making sure he was following, you raced back to the front doors, beelining to his car. When the both of your reached it, you strapped yourself in and he drove off, leaving dust in the rearview. The drive back to the motel felt like it took hours. When you pulled up to the strip, you noticed the Impala still sitting outside and your feet were on the ground before the car was in park. Your heartbeat thumped in your ears, your eyes scanning the surroundings. You noticed your motel room light was on. You turned to Daryn.
“Listen, I really appreciate you taking me out tonight and I-I’m sorry it had to be cut short, but I need to make sure everythings alright.” You rushed through your words while you managed to throw him a smile over your shoulder.
“Y/N, I can stay and make sure- '' He bega, but the thought of what unnatural force could be inflicting pain onto Dean was enough to make you cut his speech off short.
“No, no, I got it under control - I can call you, you still have the same number?” You spoke fast, trying to politely get to your motel room as quickly as possible. Daryn looked at a loss for words. To see him scrambling to try to spend another minute with you made your chest heavy with guilt, but this was Dean at stake. You turned before he could answer and opened the door so quick, you almost hit the wall behind it yourself. You were in fight mode, ready to rip apart whatever was wreaking havoc, ready to patch up Dean if he needed it, a million thoughts going through your head. Taking in the scene in front of you, the breath you had in your lungs slipped from your lips.
The room was dimly lit by dozens of small candles of all different colors and heights. On the table next to you was the beautiful bouquet from Daryn and a simple rose sitting next to it. Dean sat on the edge of the bed, nervously rubbing his hands down his thighs. Your hand fell to your chest as you took a deep breath in.
“Dean,” Your eyes filled with tears that you begged not to slip down your face, “You scared the shit outta me.” You shook your head, running a hand through your hair. Dean looked down at his hands.
“I-I know, I didn’t know how else to get you to come back,” He said, his voice low. You couldn’t believe the sight before you and you stood still, taking it all in. “Y/N, I should’ve done this a long time ago, but seeing you with Daryn” He said, shaking his head as he looked up at you, “ I couldn’t take it, watching you leave with him.” He stood up and crossed the small room to you, his hands picking up yours and rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand. “I don’t have the fast car and the big bouquet and all that crap - but the way I feel about you,” He struggled to find the words and you knew that all of the effort he’d already put into this gesture was big for him, “What I can offer you is to always be there for you, to always stitch you up, to make sure you’re not alone when you wake up in the mornings - We don’t have to do this stuff alone Y/N and we’re crazy for thinking we had to.” He shook his head and his warm hand cupped your cheek. “I wanna do this with you, I mean it.” He finished, his eyes anxiously looking into yours, waiting for your response. Even in this lighting, his eyes were bright and lively, his nose peppered with the freckles you’ve loved since you noticed them the day you met him. Bringing your hand up to his other cheek, you pulled him in, your lips colliding together as if it were the first time. His other hand found its way to the side of your head and his fingers tangled in your hair as he pulled you in, passion filling your every movement. You pulled away, a few tears making their way down your flush cheeks.
“I would love to Dean,” You leaned forward and pressed your forehead against his, “I’ve been in love with you since I laid eyes on you.” You smiled, your heart beating loudly at the confessions the two of you were sharing. He leaned back and pressed a kiss onto your forehead.
“God, me too sweetheart.” He mumbled into the kiss, before pulling away and taking in every inch of your face before letting go of your hands and moving to the bed. Out of a small plastic bag, he pulled out a few styrofoam containers. “Got you your favorite,” He spoke as he opened the containers, spreading them around the bed. Two burgers sat in their separate containers with fries, and a few slices of pie in the other. You walked over and sat on the bed with him as he laid the food out and sat next to you.
“Mhhh, bacon cheeseburger.” You took a deep breath in, the aroma of the greasy food filling the room. He rubbed your back, smiling.
“Extra bacon, the usual.” He laughed, still looking at you. You turned to him and kissed him once more, the feeling of his lips against yours making your heart drop to your toes. When you pulled away, his eyes were still shut, savoring every kiss the two of you shared.
“I am so in love with you, I hope you know.” You whispered, still close to his face. He blinked slow and a lazy grin crossed his features.
“I know.” He replied, his sarcasm causing you to throw your head back and let out a laugh.
“Good, I’m glad.” You replied, smacking his shoulder. He took a deep breath and looked at the candles around you.
“Now can I blow these out? It’s starting to smell like a friggin’ hallmark movie in here it’s nauseating.” He grumbled, your laugh filling the room as you shook your head at him.You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing as he went around to each of the candles and huffed them out.
You put on the tv and played the first movie that popped up and thought about all of the choices you’ve made in your life that got you to this exact moment. Life with the Winchester boys isn't for everyone. The life you lived was fast and dangerous, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. With Dean’s arms around you, shitty take out food in front of you and a whole life to share with him ahead, you found yourself filled with the sort of peace you didn’t think you’d ever get your hands on.
----
Hope you guys liked it! My requests are always open!
#spn#supernatural#dean winchester#sam winchester#supernatural fanfic#supernatural fanfiction#spn fanfic#spn fanfiction#dean x reader#dean winchester x reader#sam x reader#sam winchester x reader#dean#sam#dean dream imagines#hannahc56#jensen and jared#jared and jensen#j2#jared#jensen#jensen ackles#jared padalecki#dean x y/n#sam x y/n#dean winchester x y/n#sam winchester x y/n
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notable moments from The Three Days of The Hunter Job
leverage 2.05
hunt for the truth = fox news
you can’t change my mind, sorry
- - - - -
Nate: Here's what we can do. We can probably get you enough money to save the house and pay for medical bills--
Sarah: We aren't interested in money, Mr. Ford. This woman took my father's self-esteem. She took his reputation. She took his good name. That's what he needs back.
someone needs to make a compilation of their clients being noble as hell
- - - - -
Sophie: I wanna take the lead on this one. I wanna do what you do.
Nate: Yeah, listen, I know breakups can be very difficult, Sophie.
Sophie: Whoa. No, that's not what this is about.
Nate: I know that you have this need to be in control right now, you know.
Sophie: I don't have any such need.
Nate: But you can't project that onto the con.
Sophie: Excuse me? This, coming from the man who spent an entire year drunk, working out his obsessive vengeance on every dimwit in a suit who happened to cross our line of vision.
Nate: Hey, you put some thought into that one, didn't you?
Sophie: You know, I'm not tryin' to control the universe just because some guy dumped me. I-I appreciate the concern. I just, I need a new challenge.
Nate: Okay. (hands Sophie the files) This is your job.
Sophie: Thanks. Now, let's go get this bitch. (walks away)
Nate: Oh, boy
fucking get rekt nate you’re the literal last one to talk
- - - - -
huh nate is wearing flannel in this one
- - - - -
Sophie: Exactly. And then to protect themselves, they issue an apology to Mr. Pennington and then they throw Monica Hunter into the jaws of the very media machine that she bent to her own malicious will.
Parker: Wow. I gotta say, Sophie's briefings are much more dramatic.
Eliot: And poetic.
parker and eliot are cute
- - - - -
Sophie: But we can sell a story that commands respect. A story that she's gonna chase to get the respect she craves. Hm? Pack your bags, everyone. We're going to D.C. to make news.
(everyone continues sitting, looking uncomfortable)
Nate: That's when you wanna...
Sophie: I wanna do that bit again. Pack your bags, everyone. We're going to D.C. to make news. (leaves room)
Nate: She's walking into the closet
SOPHIE ITS OKAY YOU DONT NEED TO GO IN THE CLOSET
- - - - -
Parker: I got the pass. Easy.
Sophie: Parker, we went over this.
[Exterior Studio]
Sophie: You're not supposed to take it. Get caught with it.
Parker: I don't know how to get caught.
Sophie: Yeah, I know it's difficult to steal badly. Just, just try
- - - - -
Monica (grabs Parker): Hey. Hey. I will have you arrested for trespassing if you do not tell me what you are doing here.
Parker: Technically, you can't have me arrested for trespassing because you don't own the station.
Sophie: Parker, tell her the story
parker: TRY ME BITCH
- - - - -
hardison doing crazy tinfoil hat guy is iconic
+ parker and hardison’s high five and “that’s what I’m talkin about!” ADORABLE
- - - - -
Parker: Eliot, these conspiracies aren't real, right?
Eliot: What do you mean?
Parker: Like that one over there that says all the major wars of the past 50 years were ordered by members of The Council.
Eliot: Parker, I'm not at liberty to discuss that with you. (walks away)
Parker: You're not a member of The Council, are you? Eliot? Is he?
Nate: Oh, I don't know. (walks away)
Parker: Huh? Uh, Nate, is he?
parker looked so vulnerable asking it and eliot’s just like,,, imma fuck with her LMFAO
also this is another chaotic ot3 scene that I’d die for
- - - - -
eliot taking the general’s id with his pencil and handing it off to hardison? SMOOTH AS FUCK
- - - - -
Parker: But what if he won't talk to us?
Monica: Then we celebrate.
Parker: Celebrate?
Monica: Denial means guilt. Refusal means more guilt. Punch out my cameraman, and I'll kiss you on the mouth.
Camera Man: Mm-hm.
parker: 👀👀👀
- - - - -
parker gets hit with a car ,,, how many times in this series does she get hit with a car ??
- - - - -
monica’s face when she sees parker get hit by a car is LITERALLY the exact same as the surprised pikachu face
+
bruh imagine you see this happening ,,, like a girl get hit by a car, a suit running out, grabbing stuff of her body, then running away ???
her playing dead on the ground for a hot minute before “waking up”, dusting herself off and walking away ???
- - - - -
Hardison: Move. Don't stop. Come on.
Monica: They ran her over.
Hardison: I know, but we gotta go. Security cameras, the ATM cameras, the traffic cameras. We're always being watched. Just put your head down. Act natural.
Monica: Why are you dressed like a mailman?
Hardison: Invisible man, mailman, nobody notices the mailman. He blends right in. Just like a circus clown.
- - - - -
Parker: We totally went to the moon.
Eliot: Movie sets. I've seen 'em. They're outside of Albuquerque.
Parker: Why would there still be sets there?
Eliot: Because they're gonna reuse 'em for the Mars mission. Repaint it all red.
her bumping shoulders with eliot and leaning on him? the casual intimacy that nourishes my S O U L
- - - - -
Sophie: She has to have corroboration from her own sources. She has to craft the narrative. Monica Hunter has to be the author of her own personal nightmare.
Nate: Do I sound that creepy when I...?
Eliot: Hell yes.
Parker: Mm-hm.
Nate: Really?
Eliot: You do
- - - - -
Sophie: The only question is whether Hardison guessed her sources right.
Hardison: G-guess? Guess?
Sophie: Well, you know.
Hardison: Woman, my name Alec Hardison. I do not guess, OK? Look, journalists, they're lazy. They always go back to the same sources. I compared Monica Hunter's stories for the last ten years and created a heuristic model based on her sources. I-I filtered by story type, priority and evidentiary chain. Look, (pulls up info on laptop) sex scandal: 87 percent chance she goes to these sources. Serial killer scare: 90 percent she contacts these sources for confirmation. Government secrets and health scare intersects: Ninety-five percent chance she goes to these sources. Look, look. Right there. She's emailing them right now. Look.
- - - - -
Hardison: Get me out of here.
Sophie: Yeah, I'm working on it.
Parker (comes out of back room pulling on jacket): I'm on it.
Sophie: No, no, no, no, no, you cannot go. You're dead. Monica Hunter sees you and the whole con is blown.
Parker: Right
PARKER WAS R E A D Y TO GO IN AFTER HIM WE LOVE A PROTECTIVE OT3
- - - - -
Hardison: Damn the con. I'm a black man caught on an Army base with a video camera. I am going to jail forever.
the realest part of the show
- - - - -
Hardison: Eliot, get me everything you can on a Lieutenant Abbot.
[Apartment]
Hardison: Just-just do what I taught you.
Eliot (typing on laptop): Now, the "http" thing comes before—
[Interrogation Room 2]
Eliot: --the "www-dot," right?
Hardison: Eliot!
[Apartment]
Eliot: Which one's the forward slash?
Sophie: Oh, come on.
[Interrogation Room 2]
Hardison: It ain't the time, Eliot. It ain't the time.
[Apartment]
Eliot: It's not fun when you're hanging out there in the wind and there's a dude behind a laptop cracking jokes, is there?
Parker: (holding a gas mask over her face before looking over it) I like it when we switch jobs. It's exciting
someone PLEASE make an eliot-being-bad-at-technology compilation I’m begging
also it’s officially canon that hardison tries teaching eliot about technology
- - - - -
Eliot: No, that's everything on this guy.
Lieutenant: Sir, I need to know why you're on this base.
Hardison: Yes. Why am I on this base?
Lieutenant: I'm asking you.
Hardison: No, I'm asking you. Why am I on this base? Why am I in this room?
Lieutenant: So I can ask you questions.
Hardison: Or maybe it's so I can ask you questions, Lieutenant Kyle Abbot, Social Security 823-24-6270?
Lieutenant: I don't know what you're up to.
Hardison: Maybe you’re not cleared to know. Two disciplinary actions? That one in Germany? Maybe you're just too much of a security risk.
(lieutenant goes to leave and Hardison slams his fist on the table)
Hardison: Did I say you could leave?
(lieutenant swallows nervously)
T H I S
S C E N E
T H O
- - - - -
[Army Base Gate]
Nate: Not gonna work.
Eliot: It's all in the salute, man.
[Apartment]
Sophie: Just work the stars and bars. Nobody wants to--
[Army Base Gate]
(a soldier moves to the side of the car and leans in, saluting Nate)
Sophie: --look a general in the eye.
Nate: Uh, good form soldier. As you were.
Soldier: Clear.
(the gate goes up and Nate pulls into the base, parking near a building. He gets out of the car and walks toward the door)
- - - - -
Nate: We hunt for the truth through many dark places. (approaches Monica menacingly) I am a patriot, Ms. Hunter. I'm sorry. (to Eliot) Earl.
(Monica takes a can of pepper spray from her purse and sprays it in Nate’s face, driving him back. She runs out the door as he groans in pain. Eliot goes to pat his back)
Eliot: Good thing Parker switched that with water.
Nate: Didn't! Didn't switch. (they both start coughing)
LMFAO
- - - - -
Monica: My friends, this is the enemy. Our water has been poisoned.
(an aide spits out a mouthful of water)
JFNSKDKEJWJNFJ
- - - - -
(Eliot is cutting vegetables while Nate opens a bottle of wine and Hardison swirls orange soda in a wine glass)
hardison is literally swirling his neon orange soda in a wine glass as eliot cooks actual food for the fam I CANNOT
- - - - -
Parker (holds up photo): Loch Ness Monster.
Hardison: Loch Ness submarine.
Parker: No!
Eliot: Scottish waters are cold and deep. It's a perfect place to test.
Parker (holds up photo): Area 51.
Eliot: True.
Hardison: False.
Eliot: That's true.
Hardison: False. She said Area 51, 51.
Eliot: I'm sorry. False. Area 52.
Hardison: Been there.
Eliot: Yep
I’m crying the ot3 was top tier chaotic this entire episode and parker was having A Time™ with all these conspiracies
someone make a compilation of these scenes overlayed with the wii music. pls.
#leverage#leverage 2.05#leverage 2x05#the three days of hunter job#leverage season 2#season 2#notable moments#mine
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Fanfiction: New York (part 7)
Anonymous submitted part 7 of their fanfic “New York”! I’m posting it under the cut. You can find the other parts under the fanfic tag.
Zeffer left that evening, taking to the city streets under the cover of night. Even at nighttime the city still seemed so lively and bright. It hurt his eyes, He deciding it be better to check the alleyways and darker corners of city, hoping he’d have better luck. Aside from afew homeless and passed out drunk people he found nobody of interest in the ally’s. That’s was about to change rather soon as the night went onward.
Outside the back of a dumpster by what looked like the back of a store he found three young humans just smoking and hanging out. All three wearing dark attire, black hair and makeup with piercings. Being the first sober people he saw, Zeffer decided to ask if they have seen anything. He walked up to them silently, startling them alittle by his approach. They greeted him, he ask if they’ve seen anyone matching Evans description. They say no but the group stares oddly at Zeffer.
Zeffer wondered why they where staring at him? Their stares where not that of fear or disgust but more curiosity with a large does of excitement. “He are you like, a vampire or something”? The short pudgy women of the group asked. “What”! Zeffer thought to himself, could they really see threw his illusion! Granted he wasn’t that great at illusions but still he Atleast thought he put it. Damn how he really wished he had the ability lie right now!
Zeffer tried but failed to dodge the question, as the tall, lanky guy with shaggy hair and way too thick eyeliner chimed in. “Yeah man, it’s cool if your a vampire dude, we’ve been dying to met one for real ! “. Okay what kind of freaks show has Zeffer walked in on? Why would anyone be happy to see a vampire, an evil blood guzzling corpse that feeds on the living? He get his answer whether he wanted to or not.
The shorter guy in the group, having long black hair with more metal in his face then in a zareen refinery piped in. “Hey man, could you turn us into vampires too!” Wait…. WHAT!!! Did Zeffer hear that right or was he just going crazy? Did this human seriously just ask to become an undead abomination!? His brain near shut down in pure shock. “Why the fuck you want this curse!” He blurted out in angry confusion, this was gonna be a bad night.
Each member of the group excitedly listed off the reasons for wanting to be a vampire, immortality, super strength, shapeshifting, etc… for as ridiculously stupid as wanting to be a vampire already was, some of their answers didn’t even make any sense? Last Zeffer checked vampires can’t turn into bats or mist, or survive decapitation. Zeffer just went off on them, going into a massive rant that vampirism was nothing but a curse of the worst kind and how all vampires are evil monsters.
His ranting against vampirism only seemed to encourage them. Them all being super happy to meet a real deal vampire and where enamored by his raving against his own kind. In an effort to shoot them down he let them know humans can’t become vampires, only fey can. They seemed confused, asking what fairies have anything to do with vampires? He didn’t know himself, just saying it was some magic stuff like how only commoners can become werewolves. Wrong answer.
They became even more ecstatic finding out werewolves where real too. Asking Zeffer if he knows any werewolves, how the eternal war between vampires and werewolves is going, and the shorter guy asking since he can’t be a vampire can he become werewolf instead? These humans really have lost their minds Zeffer thought. He finally got their names, the tall guy, Dillion introducing them, the fat girl being his gf Morgan and the short guy being their friend Alex.
Some how it got even crazier when the three rolled down their sleeves, offering their arms to him. Dillon spoke up saying that if he can’t turn them into vampires then at the very least they could offer themselves as his servants, forming a coven and performing dark rituals at his side. Zeffers brain had completely broke at this request, this outdoing their asking to become vampires in levels of sheer stupidity. He didn’t even know how to respond other then a resounding no.
Zeffer just stared in pure confusion, his eyes twitching. Okay he was done with these three. Zeffer just told them no, I’m not your dark master and I’m not gonna drink from you. They where genuinely upset by this, asking why not and where asking if he even was a real vampire? He sarcastically apologized for not being whatever image they had of vampires in their heads and just told them he’s not interested in creating some blood cult, besides humans can’t do magic.
“Can Too” Morgan told him indignantly, pouting. The three told Zeffer they really knew about magic and they could be so useful as his dark disciples and, and. Zeffer didn’t care to listen, he just walked away not wanting to be a part of this madness anymore, he had better things to do then argue with a bunch of idiots. What kind of strange, fucked up world has Evan gotten himself into where people actually WANT to be vampires and werewolves!? Zeffer just shivered and continued his search.
Zeffer had no luck finding his lover or any trace of him. Every allyway he searched had nothing of interest, again. In the backstreet he currently going down he found something interesting, a back ally vendor he could guess. An obese, dark skinned man wearing a jersey and sun glasses at night sat in a plastic chair overlooking a large vehicle. It’s back doors where open and showing what he had. This guy could be useful Zeffer thought to himself and decided to approach.
The man didn’t see him coming, jumping and shouting at him upon suddenly seeing him. “God damn man! Don’t sneak up on a brother like that with your crack head, skin diseased ass! Made me near shit my pants”! Judging by his reaction this guy could see through Zeffers disguise too and had a more ‘normal’ reaction thankfully. The man just glared at Zeffer, told him he don’t sell rocks and was asking what the hell he wanted. Zeffer just decided to ask his name and what he does sell.
The man introduced himself as fat tony with an f-a-t and is the sole owner and distributor of the little store in front of him. Handling all your night time needs, illegal or not. He also told Zeffer he don’t allow window shopping, so he can either buy something or leave. Zeffer asked if he sold phones and knew how to get ids? “Burner phones and fake id’s, that I most certainly can do” fat tony told him. Zeffer asked for phones and id’s for his full crew, minus one id for Elska.
He would have to pay upfront and in cash for this of course. He heard from the crew that gold coins don’t work here but did hear from Issac and Jeimos that they got a store owner to accept it after telling them it was solid gold. Taking a long shot Zeffer handed fat tony his coin purse as payment, he just looked in the bag and saw all the gold and silver coins and angrily asked “what the fuck is this”?.
Tony just threw the coins back at Zeffer and told him he’s not taking no Halloween props. Zeffer told him their real gold and silver but that didn’t sway him. Tony just asked if he looked like some kind of medieval merchant and told him he can either pay up or leave, it didn’t matter as long as it got Zeffer away from him faster.
Zeffer just left, realizing he wasn’t gonna get anywhere. The sun was rising so he was gonna have to go back to base, he also hadn’t drank that night and the blood thirst was basing at him. He always hated this but he was gonna needs to find a drink on the way back to bases. That’s when he noticed that a hooded figure was following him.
The hooded figure was walking behind him, a small distance but gaining. His hands where in his pockets and face covered, eyes staring directly at Zeffer. He knew this guy was gonna be trouble Zeffer looked at him he’d suddenly stop and just look around, but would continue his pursuit once Zeffer stopped looking.
The more Zeffer walked the faster the guy got, he was almost directly behind him now. He could hear the mans breathing and could see he was pulling something out of his pocket. The man grabbed Zeffer from behind, putting a gun to his head and told him he’s gonna hand over all his money or he’s gonna splatter his brain across the pavement.
Zeffer just laughed at him, that’s when the wanna be robber noticed Zeffers ghostly pale skins and glowing red eyes. He froze in a moment of hesitation, all the time Zeffer needed to break free and knock the gun out of his hand. His vampiric instincts took over as he bite the robber, deciding he will be his drink for tonight.
The man kicked and screamed trying to escape Zeffers grasp. His efforts where futile as Zeffer drank from him, his body falling lifeless to the ground after he was done with his feast. He always hated this, no matter who the victim was.
Curiously he checked his not so innocent victims pockets and didn’t find much but some cash. Deciding he wouldn’t be needing it anymore he pocketed the cash and went back to base for tonight.
*
I already stan Fat Tony. I love that Zeffer has this little cult of goth kids looking up to him, that’s hilarious! I’m imagining them trying to break into the hospital and save Evan for him or something, but who knows what will happen at this point. Things are getting really interesting! TO BE CONTINUED...?
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trust fund baby ~ Timothée Chalamet (song drabble) - version 2.0
my masterlist │ my song drabbles
song i used as inspiration: why don't we ~ trust fund baby
words: 1.7K
approximate reading time: about 10 mins
a/n: okay so when brainstorming about this song's lyrics i came up with an idea (a different one than this written below) but as i started writing it, another possible, quite similar situation came to my head and since i couldn't decide which one i liked better, i figured i let you guys decide and wrote both. anyway i'm not an expert in cars and repairing them, so excuse my lack of knowledge please. i hope you still like it though! please leave feedback, it means the absolute world to me. love youu
here's version 1.0, the original idea
"Damn it." Timothée cursed out loud, slamming his palms against the steering wheel.
He couldn't figure out what was wrong or if accidentally he did something that caused the problem, but here he was in the absolute middle of nowhere, all alone with a slightly smoking engine hood.
He had no clue only that something really bad was going on. He grabbed his phone and opened the browser to search for the closest garage.
"Really?" He muttered to the device in his hand in disbelief. The closest one was about an hour away. It would take forever for a breakdown truck to come here for him.
He contemplated waiting for a little while, see if it went back to normal, maybe he could drive to the garage himself if the situation got better. The two sides in his mind reasoned against each other non-stop as he tried to figure out what was the best solution.
In the deep thinking he was doing he didn't hear the sound of an approaching vehicle from behind him until the image of it in the rearview mirror caught his eyes and the engine's roar entering his ears couldn't be mistaken.
He watched the slightly worn-out jeep get to him frozen in his seat, the idea to somehow stop it and ask the driver to tow him to the garage forming in his head but he did nothing to carry it out, still surprised by the sudden appearance of another car on the road.
The jeep passed him with reduced speed before eventually pulling up short in front of his car. Timothée's eyes widened as the car door opened and someone jumped out of the vehicle. His fingers shakily searched for the handle so he could get out on the road as well.
When he straightened his back and his eyes fell back on the approaching person he was taken aback by the sight. A beautiful girl around his age wearing a well-worn pair of jean shorts and a baggy, retro t-shirt, a worried expression on her face.
"Is everything alright?" She spoke up, rambling on without a pause, not even waiting for a reply from the boy. "I saw you parking here and I was thinking maybe you're just taking a break from driving but I was like, it's better to check if something's wrong."
Gosh, stop rattling, (y/n) thought to herself. You're not making a very nice first impression right now.
"Yeah, everything's fine," Timothée answered subvonsciously, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly before realising what he had just said, then swiftly shook his head and corrected himself. "I mean, no, not everything's fine. There's a little smoke coming out of my engine hood and the closest service station is quite far and I don't really know what to do."
Hearing the boy answer with a similar amount of gabbling slightly calmed the girl down, he probably found the situation quite odd likewise.
"Can I look at it?" She pointed at the car.
"Look at...?" He frowned in confusion. Why would she want to look at it? "I mean, sure, if you wanna."
"Great!" She half-exclaimed, already making her way towards the car, opening the car hood, her torso disappearing in it fully in no time.
Timothée watched her shocked, he was sure that the process would've taken a minute or even more for him, still the girl did it like it was nothing extraordinary.
"Okay, I think I know what's the problem, and lucky for you I happen to have the needed equipment with me," she straightened back up, turning back towards the boy.
He watched her pass him on her way back to her car and after a little packing around she got out a toolbox from the trunk and made her way to the other car again, swinging the tools in her hand like it's no big deal that she kept such things in her car.
She casted a glance at the brown haired boy, a chuckle erupting from her throat when she saw the expression on his face.
"My dad owns a service in my hometown and he taught me how to repair the most common problems," she explained, placing the box down on the ground as she reached the car. "And he has always insisted on me carrying around a toolbox in my own car in case anything happens."
Timothée felt his jaw drop to the ground in surprise and was quite thankful that the girl had already turned back towards the engine with a tool he could have sworn he had never seen in her hand, this way not seeing his reaction.
In his mind flashbacks of high school and even college parties and talks played non-stop as he watched her work. All his life, at least the part where dating was already a subject, he always told everyone that if he had ever dated a girl, it'd be an independent, smart and skilled woman. Someone who could fix anything whether it was changing a lightbulb or repairing a car.
And as it seemed in that moment, the girl he had always been describing was standing right in front of him. All he knew was that he couldn't let her slip away now that he found her.
"Okay, I think it's done. Can I sit in and start it to see how it is?" Her voice awoke him from his thinking.
"Yeah, sure."
On the way to the car door (y/n) tried to clean her oil-stained hands as good as she could with more or less success, pressing her skin in the worn jean material on the front of her thighs before climbing in the car. The engine growled loudly a moment later, and they both waited curiously if smoke's going to appear again.
When nothing happened, the young girl swiftly got out of the car, leaving the engine going as she approached the boy again.
"Would it be alright if I took it for a tiny ride? I wanna see if the smoke comes back after using it again," she explained. "I'll leave my car key and wallet and all my stuff with you as warrant."
Pulling the mentioned things out of her jean pockets, (y/n) held it out towards him, waiting for a response. He silently nodded, a bit taken aback by the sudden suggestion but eventually taking the stuff from her, watching as she got in his car again, passing him and speeding off into the distance.
Maybe he was foolish to trust someone this easily, but she left all her belonging with him, why would she run away, stealing his car? Otherwise, she had a pretty nice car herself, compared to his older, simple car even the (already dried) mud-stained jeep seemed fancy.
It took all self-control he had in himself not to open her wallet and search for her ID so he could learn her name, but it felt wrong, finding it out without her knowledge. He could just ask her when she got back.
The figure of his car started growing again, signaling that she had turned around and started driving back, and indeed his car arrived back to the starting point a few minutes later. The girl carefully wheeled the car around so it faced its original direction again before stopping the engine and getting out.
"It's working absolutely alright by far. And even if it somehow starts doing it again, you'll get close to the garage by then."
"Wow," he muttered, feeling speechless. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, I'm glad I could help," the girl leant down to pack her equipment laying on the ground.
"How much do I owe you?"
"Oh, no, nothing. You don't have to pay me for this. I'm not even a professional," she quickly straightened her back, laughing at his suggestion as her hands waved it away.
"But I feel like I should pay you, you deserve something in exchange for stopping even though you didn't have to and offering to repair my car. And actually repairing it."
"No, really, please. I'm doing this because I like helping people, what is more people who happen to need my special knowledge about fixing car problems."
"Then at least let me buy you dinner or something in the nearest diner. If you have the time and would like to do so, of course."
Smooth, she thought giddily, watching him nervously creasing the hem of his shirt. The thought that such an attractive young man would be interested in a girl like her felt extra heartwarming.
"Okay, I can accept that," she giggled in the end.
"Amazing!" Timothée exclaimed, heart bursting with happiness that his sudden and absolutely not thought over plan worked out well.
"Then, are we gonna drive separately and stop at the first diner that comes in sight?" (y/n) visualised the scene appearing in her head.
"Yeah, probably," he chuckled. "Though what do you think about exchanging phone numbers and staying in a call while we drive there?"
"Great idea!" (y/n) grinned at him, amusement in her eyes. The boy truly had some pretty good thoughts in his head.
They both pulled out their mentioned smart devices from their pockets and switched them, typing in their respective numbers before saying temporary goodbyes and climbing inside their own cars. Just in time with (y/n)'s engine starting roaring, her phone in her hand started ringing.
She glanced at the screen for a short moment before erupting in loud laughter as her eyes took in the nickname he set for himself.
"Heya, Timmy T," she answered suggestively, still giggling, making the boy let out a chuckle as well.
"Hi, (y/n)," he answered a second later. "Nice to meet you."
"You too."
(y/n) tapped on her screen to put the call on speaker before putting the device down and slowly starting make the car roll forward. Glancing in the rearview mirror she made sure the boy was following her before picking up a faster speed.
For the next two hours they went from the first small talk to deeper, more serious subjects, getting to know the other more. Minutes spent with laughing loudly or silently listening to the other's stories went by.
In the first half an hour Timothée sped up out of nowhere and caught up to (y/n)'s car in the opposing traffic's lane so they could cast momentarily glances at each other until another car appeared on the road and the boy had to slow back down to swerve back in the normal lane behind her car.
The strange but nice attraction they both felt towards each other only grew stronger with every passing minute and by the time they arrived to the first diner in their way, they were already something close to best friends, or maybe even more.
.::the end::.
my masterlist
#timothée chalamet#song drabble#timothée chalamet imagine#timothée chalamet fanfiction#timothée chalamet x reader#x reader#fanfiction#alex turner imagine#fanfic#trust fund baby#why don't we#wdw#dune#call me by your name#cmbyn#interstellar#the king#nonstoplover#masterlist
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Marvel Gender Headcanons
because i doubt some of these people are cis
Peter:
i claim this man for the trans community
he realised he was trans at around present time (15-16 years old)
he knows his family and friends will accept him
he’s still N E R V O U S
but he still wants to be true to his identity
so he wears the trans flag colours!!
Ned obvs catches on, but doesn’t say anything
Tony’s the first one Peter comes out to, bc i’m soft and irondad owns my heart
Tony gets him a spider suit with a binder built in
Peter is absolutely the kind of trans guy who forgets to take off his binder (i’m not projecting what do you mean)
he comes out to his aunt May next, and she breaks out the scissors
the other eventually figure it out, and they accept him immediately
Peter: Hey Clint?
Clint: Yo
Peter: I’m trans
Clint: *takes a gulp of his soda* wig
Peter: ???
they love him though let’s be real
Natasha Punches A Transphobe
someone calls Peter a tr*nny
Natasha sends them on a one way trip to space :)
Peter absolutely decides to go on T
and he is a handsome!! boy!!
he eventually tells Ned and MJ, and they accept him too
Ned buys him a trans flag
NED BUYS HIM A TRANS FLAG
by the time they’re graduating high school, Peter passes as cis very well
Tony:
i’m claiming Tony as trans too
i promise there’s other gender identities here jdsfhkhsdfkjh
Tony came out in the 80s of all times
we know Howard
it didn’t go over well
Maria didn’t say much about it, but Howard was actively against it
Tony didn’t care at all
he literally snuck out and got a fake ID so he could start on T
Tony was almost 18 at that point, but he still used Howard’s money
just to piss him off
well Howard ended up dying like 3 years later
Maria survived because fuck you
but Tony never ended up getting any surgeries because he ended up getting busy with the company
he just didn’t have time, with all the recovery that goes into it
he’s still on T though!!
mans has tiddies and a beard, the boomers get confused
he tends to keep it more private though
Pepper knows, how could she not?
Pepper is the sole reason Tony survived to adulthood lbr
Peter found out accidentally
Tony got oil on a shirt while fixing one of his machines, and Peter walked in while he had it off
he saw the binder and boyyy was that a surprise
but it totally explained how Tony already knew so much about supporting Peter in his transition
the problem with being an ADHD workaholic??
hyperfocusing
when Tony hyperfocuses, he forgets to take off his binder
Jarvis: Sir, you need to take off your binder
Tony: Gimme like five more minutes, I need to finish this
Jarvis: Sir, it’s been 38 hours??
Tony: *already moving onto the next task* What’s your point?
his ribs are so fucked
Pepper and Peter remind him too
my boy is a mess
Thor:
this is solely because my nb loml claimed thor as nb and it’s super fucking valid
i love you babe 🥺
so Thor learned about different genders from Loki
and also from Peter tbh
but Thor LOVED the idea of being in between
it just made him really happy!!
he started using those labels a lot, even though he didn’t know much about what they meant
being on Earth more, he started to learn more about them
mostly because they replaced cops at pride (Peter’s idea)
so Thor decided to learn more
he knew he liked boys, that wasn’t uncommon on Asgard
gender expression was very open, but that blurred the lines a lot for him
when he got to non-binary, it clicked
“oh that sounds like me”
“THATS ME”
he was excited he’d figured it out
his immediate instinct?
he went to tell Loki
the only problem was Loki was asleep
“LOKI LOKI LOKI-”
“what do you wANT-”
“I’M NON-LIBRARY!!”
“WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN-”
it took like ten minutes for Loki to figure out what he meant
Loki was tired give him a break
he just kinda pushed Thor’s face away and went back to sleep
they talked about it again in the morning
after Loki got some coffee he was more receptive
“I accept you, just please stop waking me up at 2 am”
Thor’s just trying his best
he doesn’t know how to be non-binary though
(there is no right way to be enby though)
so Loki tried a few example sentences using they/them pronouns
Thor LOVED it
so now Thor wanted to use they/them pronouns
Loki isn’t a brain cell by any means
but he sure feels like one sometimes
and he’s tired of it
ANYWAYS
Thor announced it to everyone they saw
some people heard it multiple times
“GUYS I’M NON-BINARY!! :D”
they were happy for their thude
and Thor wore an enby flag to their first pride!!
now the protector of the lesbians says non-library rights
Loki:
Loki basically always knew he was genderfluid
it just seemed really obvious to him?
he realised he wasn’t cis when he was 7
he transformed into a girl for fun
and she was like “oh i like this-”
so she experimented with that
and she fucking loved all of them
so she turned back into a boy and went to Frigga
that’s how he found out about the word genderfluid
so he basically just grew up shapeshifting as much as he wanted
when they eventually went to earth, Loki couldn’t shapeshift as much
after he was redeemed, he still needed to be recognisable so they wouldn’t think he was to pull a fast one on them
he was uncomfy
Loki stays in his room a lot
he just really doesn’t wanna deal with it
he still shapeshifts in private!
Thor ends up being the one to catch on
but he kinda knows that Loki won’t talk to him
so he sends in the spider child!
Loki and Peter have a pretty close bond
so on one of the nights they hang out, it’s a she/her day
and Loki just kinda snapped and went on a bit of a rant
and she ended up coming out to Peter
Loki totally didn’t end up crying what do you mean
she just needs a hug
obvs Peter was accepting
he gave her that hug don’t worry
this was all on a rooftop eating bad street food jhshkfhjfkhkd
he did ask if he could tell the others, and Loki reluctantly agreed
yeah, the others felt kinda bad
so they ended up compromising!!
Loki could shapeshift, but not into other people
and she could wear whatever she wanted
they also gave her bracelets so she could express her pronouns
its a long road
and it takes a long time to build trust
but Loki really does appreciate Thor and Peter’s efforts
Bucky:
trans enby rights. send tweet
let’s jump back to 1930s
Bucky was transitioning before the war
he had the surgeries and was on T
Steve was the only one who really knew
it was right when HRT was starting to become a thing
he was one of the first people to try it
and it worked pretty well!
Bucky passed easily after ~2 years on T
but then he died
RIP Bucky :(
when he comes back as a Hydra agent, they use T supplements to make his body stronger
“Jokes on you, I like that shit”
yeah no the others end up rescuing him from there
but Bucky still takes T
everyone is a bit worried about it
they think he’s still under Hydra’s control
Steve has to explain it (with Bucky’s permission)
but Bucky really starts feeling a disconnect with being a male
it’s mostly due to the trauma from Hydra
he knows he’s not a girl anymore
but he hates the idea of being a boy now
so he has no idea what he is
he ends up drawing the parallel between himself and Thor
but Bucky still sees some masculinity in Thor, which confuses him a LOT
Bucky’s always confused lbr
so he ends up finding the term Agender
and he understands it!! and likes it!!
he’s too nervous to tell the others, so he writes sentences using they/them pronouns
“Their name is Bucky Barnes”
“Bucky is tired, they need a nap”
“Bucky’s best friend is Steve. They’ve known Steve since the beginning”
Bucky is WAY happier with they/them pronouns
the problem is they don’t know how to communicate that
even to Steve, they’re just nervous
Steve ends up finding the paper, which now has over 100 sentences
so the next time they’re alone, Steve brings it up, and after a little bit of avoiding answering, Bucky tells him about it
Steve is super accepting 🥺
“Do you want me to tell the others for you?”
“Yes please, I have no idea what I’m doing-”
“I don’t think any of us do”
so Steve lets the others know, and they start using they/them pronouns
Bucky’s IMMEDIATELY so much happier
i just think they’re neat-
MJ:
MJ isn’t cis, fuck you
MJ is a demigirl
and no one even figured it out for the longest time
she kinda groups herself on the more non-binary side
Peter finds out because someone calls her by they/them pronouns
“MJ?? Are you?? Non-binary??”
“Nope”
“Are you still a girl??”
“Nope”
after like 20 mins Peter figures it out
and boy is he confused
“Why didn’t you just say it?”
“I couldn’t. Gotta keep ‘em on their toes”
“Who??”
“:)”
the M in MJ stands for mystery
anyways!!
she switches from lesbian to the term Trixic (NBLW)
MJ goes to pride with Peter and Ned that year
MJ gets a girlfriend there!!
she comes out to her girlfriend upfront. she doesn’t feel like waiting
yeah she gets intense
she gets it from her moms
who can blame her
MJ sometimes wears a binder
she wore one on the first day of school, because Peter was nervous about being out (he’d come out over the summer)
MJ will punch transphobes and homophobes
even just for fun tbh
but she won’t do it immediately
she heard someone make a comment about Ned and his boyfriend and waited a few days
and then came out of nowhere
B O N K
the douchebag kinda knew why though
in conclusion, MJ is elite
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