David Dastmalchian X Reader - Blog Posts
★The Little Ordinary Things That Everyone Ought To Do★
Drabble: [I/XXX]
✧ Genre/Prompt: Fluff
✧ Pairing: Abner Krill x [Gender Neutral] Reader
✧ Word Count: 1,008 Words
✧ A/N: This isn’t a series exactly, but these drabbles can be considered to exist in the same universe. Feelin like this fic doesn’t flow as much as I’d like, but hopefully it does our boy justice. Abner Appreciators Do Interact!!
Now, say what you will about Belle Reve, but on some days it had its benefits. That is, you thought it had its benefits. Most prisoners, and any sane person for that matter, knew that nothing good came from the deadliest prison in the entire country. Entire world for that matter. It held all the people society deemed unfavorable as well as every super-villain that the authorities could catch.
And despite all that, you still found the small slivers of good buried within its decrepit walls. Most notably being the person you found yourself wanting to spend every waking second with. Your favorite person in the whole world. A person named Abner Krill.
Though a tad reserved, you found yourself subtly charmed by the, admittedly, attractive ‘villain.’ It had taken years of forced conversations, shared food, and small gifts but, sooner or later, Abner had warmed up to you. You were the only person he had known that had ever shown him kindness just for the sake of being kind. This sense of security and trust you two created over the years only served to strengthen your bond and, over time, Abner began to see less and less of his mother in you; finally being able to appreciate you as your full self. Looks and all.
And while he appreciated your love and beauty with every fibre of his being, it was the little domestic moments you two shared that he loved the most. The moments where he felt the most human. The moments where he was normal and not looked at and analyzed clinically. The moments where he could pretend he wasn’t locked up like some piece of discarded trash and rather, at home with you by his side.
Moments like this.
“Soooo, which one you want? We got gold, black, teal...I think?, and this nice shade of red.”
Abner peered at the various bottles of colored liquid you had spread out around the both of you and thought about which one would be a good choice for you two.
They all looked nice....but which would be a good fit for this month?
....
More importantly, how could a decision so small be so frustrating?
He picked at the remnants of the emerald green nail polish stuck to the edges of his thumb (a choice you had made last month) and gave you a pensive look.
“Ah geez....I don’t know......What d’you think?”
Wagging your finger at him, you let out a disagreeing noise.
“Nuh-uh, not fair. I picked last month’s color. It’s your turn now dippin’ dots.”
This only made him more frustrated.
“C’mon, please? Give me something to work off at least??”
Although seemingly harmless, situations such as there were a sad reality between you and Abner.
Whenever a decision had to be made you were usually the one who had to make ‘em. Abner, out of no fault of his own, always had this underlying fear that you would somehow hate whatever choice slipped out of his mouth; perhaps looking to berate him like all the others. Unsurprisingly, that had not been the case. You had, in fact, enthusiastically supported whatever he chose to do in every situation. [As long as it was morally correct that is...] And throughout both of your sentences at Belle Reve you had slowly, but surely, gotten him out of the habit of using self-depreciating humor. A trait picked up through his countless trauma responses. Not unlike that of his undying cynicism.
That being said, it was during mundane, domestic situations like this that his trauma occasionally resurfaced; the comfort being a little too foreign and unwelcoming for his taste.
With a reluctant sigh, you pushed the gold and black bottles together. The clink of the glasses breaking the momentary silence.
“Well, I’m pretty sure that rumor of Waller picking us for the new suicide mission is true. So if that’s the case....these two might match best with our costumes.”
Pushing the red bottle over to the others, you continued your sentiment...
“Buuuttt, this might be a little more flattering if that’s the look you’re going for.”
Your opinion seemed to do the trick and it appeared as though Abner had finally made up his mind.
“How about all three..?”
He scratched his chin out of nervousness, but ultimately looked content with his choice; looking up to see if you approved as well. Which you did.
“Why not! It’ll go perfect with your polka-dot man persona. Gotta love a man who stays in uniform.”
With a suppressed smirk he shook his head and hid his head in his chest, a
“Yeah, yeah okay Captain Cold..like you’re one to talk,” being let out underneath his breath.
Huffing, you kicked his shin playfully.
“I heard that y’know. You keep that up and you’ll be painting your own nails buster.”
That seemed to humble him enough and soon the fake groveling began; praying for your forgiveness so he wouldn’t fuck up his nails like he had countless times before.
Laughing at the stupidity of the situation, you both lamented on the grey cloud that was closing in on the distance. Neither of you knew what would eventually happen on the suicide mission you would no doubt be forced to attend, but at very least you had moments like these to live off of. Ones where you both could live as domestically as you could, knowing that, despite your situation, you had each other.
Each waiting out the storm with the other. Each holding each other when things got rough. Each fantasizing about what could’ve happened had things been different.
And while it would take some time before Abner would fully grow into his own, at least you could go to sleep peacefully knowing you were one of the rare few that got to see him at his best.
All you knew for certain at the moment though was that you had a lot of work to do if you wanted to get you guys’ nails done before dinner.