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farfromstrange · 10 months

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Chaos Theory | Michael Kinsella x Reader

Chapter 20: You Showed Me Colors You Know I Can’t See With Anyone Else

Masterlist ° Chapter List

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Reader (she/her)

Summary: You tell Michael about the conversation with Birdy and deal with the aftermath.

Warnings: ANGST, this chapter hints at PTSD and mental health, Smut (18+), slight cockwarming, not proof read

Word Count: ~5.5k

A/n: I was waiting for the right moment to write smut again, and I thought why not now? There will never be a perfect time. But the angst train is also still very much in the station. Sorry for the long wait. Enjoy! (Or don’t)

(this gif does some things to me. holy mother of jesus i can’t even-)

Michael is still asleep when you walk back into the bedroom with the coffee and the bag carrying what you can now tell are the café’s best scones.

Your thoughts are scrambled. You can’t sort them. You want to stay positive because that’s the kind of person you taught yourself to be. Misplaced hope is better than no hope at all.

You force yourself not to think too much, but that is a near impossibility in your current state. There is too much going on inside of you, holding it all back will only drain you, and that not even in the long run but as soon as you set foot out of the door.

There’s a reason you put down the pessimism a long time ago, but the reality of your situation seeps in and destroys it. It destroys everything good you’ve built for yourself; now you’re just confused and maybe a little angry, but mostly the former. Your mind has always been your worst enemy.

You place the food and the coffee down on the nightstand and turn to Michael. He doesn’t seem to notice you. He’s either too exhausted to dream, or he did the same as you and pushed all the bad thoughts away to rest a little easier. He’s out cold.

You run a hand through his unruly hair. “Mikey,” you murmur.

He stirs under your touch, his eyes fluttering. It takes him a few seconds to wake up and take in his surroundings, his face contorting in a sense of panic before his eyes fall on you, and he relaxes visibly.

“Mornin’,” he grumbles.

You greet him with a soft smile. “Hey.”

He ruffles his hair. “Wha time is it?”

“Just a little after seven,” you answer.

“Oh.” Michael looks around. He notices you sitting on the edge of the bed instead of lying next to him, and he frowns. “Why’d ya get up then?” he asks.

“Couldn’t sleep,” it’s not a complete lie, but he can tell you’re holding back.

He purses his lips, clearly not happy with you falling back into old patterns, but he can’t force you to talk.

You disguise your feelings as something they often are not, mostly because growing up, you had to play an act at the circus that was your family, and you taught yourself to be kind, to smile and wave, to never disobey and to never question, so you disguised who you truly were and what you truly felt with a layer of pretense. You weren’t allowed to speak up or talk about your struggles, and you took that belief with you into adulthood. And although you know now that feeling and sharing those feelings isn��t a bad thing, you come with a built-in defense mechanism that grew during childhood and that can only be removed fully if someone reconstructs you and flicks the switch completely. It’s a complicated task a normal person can’t achieve; you would need help for that, help Michael alone can’t provide you because he, too, struggles with built-in mechanisms of his own that never had a chance of dismembering themselves.

When you escaped home, the circus ended, but you made it a habit to please everyone, to just get them to see you as something more than this godforsaken mess that you grew up to be deep inside, and you can’t deny that it feels like you’re nothing more than a clown most of the time. You’re walking the tightrope so close to the edge, you could fall any minute, but at least you tried. It’s always been just you trying your hardest, but it never felt like it was enough before, and it surely doesn’t feel like it now. It’s a losing game.

You can shine for Michael all you want, but he can see the darkness inside of you. He accepts it. He embraces it. He wants to love you regardless, you just don’t know how to let him.

Your lips turn down. He sees right through you. Wordlessly, he reads you like an open book and his eyes bore through your soul like piercing daggers. He takes you apart and puts you back together all at once, trying to show you that he cares and you don’t have to be afraid around him, but it’s not that easy, is it? It can’t be.

You can’t hide the truth from him forever, and you don’t want to. You physically can’t. It’s exhausting. You’re overwhelmed. You need someone to lean on or the storm will drag you under and drown you in an ocean of endless despair. You tried keeping everything far away from him before and it didn’t work. He assured you he would never judge you, so why are you holding back? Old habits die hard, but you have to learn to beat them before they kill you.

You crawl back under the blanket and place your head on his chest. “I had a nightmare,” you admit quietly.

He nods, seemingly satisfied with the answer, and wraps his arms around you. “‘Bout what?” he asks.

He still holds you, even though you are a million shattered pieces of broken glass and he could easily cut himself. But if being there for you makes him bleed, he would gladly bleed out for you.

You shrug. “You died.”

His hand strokes through your hair. “But I’m here,” he tells you. “I’m alive.”

“I know, it’s just…” Your wide eyes focus on the wall across from you. “I’m so scared.”

There it is. The three words he had been waiting for.

“Fear’s human, love. Nightmares are human, but they’re not real. They’re just dreams. And fears are just yer body tryin’ ta protect itself from danger, but that doesn’t mean ya have to face it alone, y’know?”

You wonder if he used to tell his daughter the same when she was little. It sounds like something he has said many times before, maybe even to convince himself. You’re not sure, but you appreciate it.

“But you died,” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper. “And I couldn’t save you.” Your lip quivers. “It was my fault you died because he said–he told me to stay away from my sister and I didn’t listen, and then you died. To save me. ‘Cause you said you’d always protect me and you jumped in front of the gun for me and…and you died.”

“Hey,” he tilts your chin up, “I’m here. I’m alright.”

But it’s not as easy as he makes it out to be, you both know it.

“You were shot at last night, Michael!” Your voice holds a lot of force with its honesty. “What if you hadn’t been alright? What if you’d died?” you say. “I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself. I know I’m the last person who gets to say that after the shit I put you through, but it’s true. I’m selfish. I know I’m selfish because I want you alive for me, but it’s better than not having you at all.”

His brown eyes slip from yours and he looks away. He can’t face you. The truth hurts, and you have a way of hitting the knife right where he doesn’t want it. Now he knows what it feels like when he reads you so openly.

You let out a shaky breath. “I feel so bad because Jamie died and he was your son, but you also could have died and I can’t bear the thought of that. So forgive me for being scared of losing you. Forgive me for being glad you’re alive, but for being afraid of something like last night happening again and this time, it won’t be someone else!” Your voice breaks.

He only holds you tighter, your broken edges tearing deeper holes into the parts of his soul that had been barely hanging on by a thread; and now Michael’s falling apart completely, too.

“Shh, I know,” he whispers.

You shake your head. You begin to think he doesn’t know because he doesn’t value his life as much as you do, and that hurts. Physically and mentally, it’s scarring to love someone who is so prepared to die.

But it’s the same with you, isn’t it? You would die for the people you love too, with no hesitation, and that’s what makes you so eerily similar. Pretending to be a good girl is one thing, but showing your true colors in every version there is to someone just as damaged as you holds a different kind of depth that already feels painful again, while at the same time being the only thing you could ever need. You need him.

“People die,” you whisper. “This is your life, I know, but it scares me…It shouldn’t be like this.”

You’re crying without actually crying, and it hurts even more than being able to let it all out. Your body restricts you. It’s a dry sob that burns through your throat and chest, and your soul suffers in the process.

Michael is silent for a moment as you bury your face in his chest. The sound of your dry sobs shakes him to his core.

It’s his turn to take a deep breath. “Even though I told ya this is the kinda life I was born into and shit like this can happen, I didn’t anticipate this,” he says, his voice breathy and barely audible. “I distanced myself. I tried t’keep the people I love safe. I focused on other things. I tried…but it still happened. And I couldn’t even protect my own son.”

You close your eyes in agony. “It’s not fair that you have to live like this,” you say.

“It’s not, you’re right. None of this is fuckin’ fair to anybody, but they’re my family.”

“This isn’t about family–”

He cuts you off, “I’ve been a target before. I’m used to it. But Jamie…he never did anythin’ wrong. He was innocent,” he says. “And I can’t reassure ya that it won’t happen again ‘cause it will. I know it, my brother knows it, everyone in this family knows it. And that’s wha makes this so fucked right now. We don’t know what’s goin’ on, but we know the risk.”

You shake your head. “That’s not fucking okay,” you snap.

He doesn’t snap back, he simply shushed you again. “I know,” he says. “Jamie was unfortunate enough t’be there with me last night, but he wasn’t the target. That’s why it hurts so much. It might have been Eric or me or someone else, but yer right. People die.”

“Children die. No one should have to accept shit like this to be the norm.”

His jaw tightens.

“This is so fucking unfair,” you hiss under your breath. “Why is it so unfair?”

“You’re right, it’s not fair,” he answers, tears of his own building up in his eyes now, “but I can’t tell ya what you wanna hear from me. It’d be a lie.”

“I don’t wanna hear anything from you other than that you’ll be okay,” you shoot back with a sniffle that breaks his heart.

He looks down, the honesty breaking your own heart in the process. “I can’t tell you tha and you know it.”

His words hang heavy in the air. You take a deep breath, but it shudders in your chest and gets trapped in your lungs. You try to block out the truth, but the truth is a cruel bastard. It manifests.

Eventually, you break the silence. “You’re shitty at comforting me today,” you say, but you’re not serious, not really. He told you the truth, which is what you needed, and you appreciate it.

It still sucks though because it doesn’t make you feel much better.

“I know,” he says, regret lacing his voice. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I wanna keep ya safe, I do. And I wanna make sure your father never lays a hand on you again. I’ll kill him myself if I have ta, and I wanna make sure ya get to fight for your sister. I need to protect Anna and you. Neither of you deserve t’be a part of any o’ this,” he says, his voice wavering ever so slightly. “You’re my priority, but what happened last night is gonna have consequences and things are gonna get messy, even though I don’t want ‘em to. It’s dangerous, and I can’t tell ya how things are gonna work out because I don’t know.”

You nod, your eyes still closed. His fingers trail up your spine. This is why you fell in love with him, and there’s not even a proper word for it. He’s the man you’ve been looking for without ever knowing what you were looking for.

You slowly lift your head to look at him. “This is your life,” you say, “and I wanna be a part of your life. I just…I can’t lose someone I love again. I can’t lose you, and it terrifies me that I might.”

You don’t care that he killed people or that his family deals drugs and regularly hurts others for a living. You thought you would care, but you love this man with all of your heart, and if you know one thing it’s that Michael Kinsella is not a bad person. He fights for those he loves. It’s not his fault he was born into this family, or that he is still loyal to them. You know he’s trying to be better for his daughter, but you can’t change the fact that he’s a Kinsella, and you no longer want to.

You don’t have to like his family, you only need to love him, and he deserves it more than anyone to have someone by his side now.

Your life is a mess too, and he’s there for you because he sees something in you that’s worth fighting for. He loves you. He wants to protect you from the demons of your past, and you bring your fair share of dangers into this relationship, so perhaps he is the only man who could ever truly understand. And you don’t want to fight alone anymore, either. You can’t.

Fate put you in each other’s paths for a reason, now you have to somehow deal with your lives crossing and find a way out of the woods to maybe have somewhat of a happy ending one day where everyone you care about and love is safe and taken care of, and you have both dealt with your respective grievances.

Michael cups your cheek. “You are my life,” he says. “Gives me a reason to live for.”

“But what if you die?” you ask.

“I won’t.”

“But you can’t promise me that, can you?”

He shakes his head. “Trust me,” he says. “We’ll make it through this. Just promise me ya’ll stay. No matter how hard things get...just stay, please.”

You don’t have to think twice. “Always,” you answer without missing a beat.

“I love ya,” he says.

“I love you too,” you echo. You reach out and intertwine your fingers with his. “Always, right?”

He nods, his thumb stroking your cheek. “Always,” he says.

You lean forward to capture his lips in a kiss. His grip tightens and he draws you closer. His hands remain close to your body, grabbing every last inch of skin they can reach, and you melt.

“You taste like smoke,” he pants between kisses.

You bite down on his bottom lip, making him groan into your mouth. “Had a cigarette,” you say, but it’s nowhere near a confession. You don’t owe him an explanation. “Is that a problem?”

He shakes his head. “Just surprised me, is all,” he says.

You force your tongue into his mouth. At first, he fights back, but he eventually lets you take control of the kiss. It’s the first time you do so.

Struggling for breath, you both reluctantly pull away from each other. His lips move to your forehead, your hand still holding onto his. The comfortable silence between you wraps around you like a blanket.

Michael is the first one to break the serenity, but only because he catches the familiar scent of coffee and scones in the air. His eyes fall on the bag on the bedside table. “Did ya go t’work just for breakfast?” he asks.

You completely forgot about Birdy’s surprise visit, and all the calm he infused you with disappears. You’re nervous about telling him the truth, but he would see right through you if you chose to lie.

You sit up, grab one of the coffee cups, and hand it to him. “No,” you say, “Birdy…Uh, she came by earlier.”

Michael’s wide awake within seconds, sitting up against the headboard. His hazel eyes trail over you, taking in each sign of discomfort and the fear in your eyes that doesn’t just come from the nerves that threaten to consume you, and it’s not just anxiety or trauma. When you say Birdy’s name, there is a slight shift in your demeanor, and he picks up on that.

“She’s nice, by the way,” you try to talk yourself out of it. “She…she brought this for you. Well, for us, but mostly for you because she wanted to check up on you. She said she came to pick you up at the station last night, but I was there and she figured you’d be in good hands, and you were, right? You still are. I guess she just wanted to do a wellness check this morning.”

His eyes darken a little and he reaches out to grasp your hand again. “Birdy came here?” he asks to clarify.

You nod, nursing your cup of coffee. She surprisingly chose the right kind, and your heart beats twice as fast again. You shudder.

A million thoughts run through your head, and you think back to the strange customer that threatened you a while back; you want to puke, but you haven’t eaten so that would be counterproductive. Your stomach is just as upset as your mental state, which never ends well for you. You need to calm your breathing before it’s too late.

“She knocked and I let her in because she asked nicely and she didn’t seem like a threat to me,” you say, almost as if you’re defending yourself. “She knew my name, but I didn’t think it’d be that serious.”

“Yeah, I told her ‘bout ya, but–” Michael looks at the logo on the coffee cup, the blue butterfly appearing all too familiar. He swallows. “I never told her where I work now,” he says. “Damn it!” Running a hand over his face, he sighs. “Did she ask you anythin’?”

You bite your lip guiltily. “Well, yeah…Isn’t that what family does?”

“I need to know what she said to ya. What did she ask?”

“Well, um…Nothing too detailed. I mean, you know I don’t like talking about details. I…She asked some things about me and the job when I saw the logo on the bag. I told her about the Butterfly Effect, how long I’ve been working there, and stuff like that. But that’s it, I promise!”

“And what did you tell her?”

“I–”

“Tell me.”

You flinch a little at his tone. “I didn’t tell her any details about my life or–or anything about my family. Or about you,” you insist. “I just said you were resting and you needed time, and that I’d tell you that she came by so you could tell her how you are yourself. She told me you guys have to support each other now, a-and she mentioned Jimmy. Especially him. I don't know, it was weird, and I found it even weirder that she knew about the café. For a moment, I thought she was trying to pry, but she left when she noticed I was uncomfortable. She was nice to me, Michael,” you say. “And she brought breakfast. That’s not an evil act, right?”

Who are you trying to convince now, you wonder. Not him, surely. It’s more like you trying to tell yourself that you didn’t make a mistake when he clearly thinks it was, and you’re not sure who you’re supposed to trust in this case. You can’t trust your own judgment, that’s for sure. You have a horrible dating history to account for it.

“Jesus,” Michael curses under his breath. “Why–How could you be so foolish?”

His words strike you hard. “I thought she was just trying to be kind,” your voice sounds higher now, and your eyes are wider than usual. “I’m sorry,” you whisper.

All color has faded from your skin. The way you look at him reminds him of a deer once again, but this time a frightened one, and he stops himself.

Your lip quivers. “I’m sorry,” you repeat again, “I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought I was doing the right thing. But you told me to stay away from your family and I didn’t listen. Please, don’t be mad at me.”

You’re begging him even though he isn’t even mad at you, and that’s when he realizes that you misinterpreted his worry for something else.

Michael's expression softens as he watches the distress on your face. “Hey, hey,” he murmurs, grabbing your chin. “I’m sorry. I’m not mad. I was just…worried. I’m sorry.”

“I wanted to be nice to her,” you say. “Because you said she was good and you cared about her.”

“I know, and Birdy isn’t…she isn’t evil,” he clarifies, “but she’s still a Kinsella and when she asks questions, she asks them to make sure you aren’t a threat. It’s nothin’ personal, she just wants t’keep this family safe. I thought…I thought she trusted me, but maybe I was wrong. I dunno. I’ll talk to her and make sure she keeps her nose out of any of yer business.”

You sniffle. “I’m still sorry.”

Michael glares at you in return, but it’s more of a gentle warning than meant in a threatening way. He assures you, “I've been tryin' to keep ya away from my family's business fer a reason, and I fear tha involvin' you in any way might put ya in danger, so I'll make sure it won't happen,” he says. “And I'll make sure your father won't catch wind of his 'til we can ensure Maya's safety, too.”

“I…” You meet his eyes. “I don’t deserve you,” you say.

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.”

“No,” he lays back down and pulls you with him, “It’s not true.”

“How can you say that so confidently?” you retort.

“‘Cause you are worth everythin' to me. And you deserve so much better.” He brushes a strand of hair away from your face and traces his thumb along your cheek. “I've made mistakes in my life, and I've done things I'm not proud of, but you've seen the best in me,” he says. “Ya’ve brought out the goodness in my heart, and I'll spend the rest of my days showin' ya how much ya mean to me. That’s what you deserve and nothin’ short of that.”

Instead of answering, you force him down to your level and press your lips against his. He closes his eyes, pulling you into his lip, and you use the added space to press yourself closer to him. His hands continue traveling the path of your spine, eventually resting on your lower back.

You stay that way for a while, your lips moving lazily against each other. Time seems to stand still. You lose yourself in him, and you taste too good for him to keep a clear mind when you’re so close to him. You become one, and he makes sure you won’t go anywhere by keeping his hands locked to your hips.

Michael manages to bring the coffee cups to safety before he sits up against the headboard, pulling you with him. His tongue asks for permission and you open your mouth to him, allowing him to explore the depth of your mouth further as you search for leverage on his broad shoulders.

“What about breakfast?” you ask when his lips move to your neck, brushing over your pulse point.

“That’s not what I’m hungry for,” he says.

His hands slide up your sides underneath your shirt, his touch igniting a trail of fire on your skin. His lips find yours once again, capturing them in a passionate kiss that leaves you breathless. The taste of him lingers on your lips. You moan, involuntarily so.

“Can we…” He trails off, pulling away enough to meet your eyes. “I wanna forget. Just fer a few minutes.”

You lick your lips. There is nothing you want more. “It’s not gonna be just a few minutes though,” you murmur.

“I don’t care.”

If he doesn’t care, you can't find it in yourself to care either, so you cave. It doesn’t take much convincing for you to give yourself over to him and trust him fully. It’s human nature at this point.

He is so desperate, he doesn’t even waste time to take your shirt off. Michael slides it up enough to reveal your breasts, encapsulating one of your nipples with his wet lips, and you throw your head back.

Usually, his movements are calculated, but this morning, he’s following instinct. The boxers you borrowed join his shirt on the floor, and you help his aching cock out of his underwear. Giving him a few good pumps, you spit into your hand to add some more lube. Sucking your nipples isn’t much foreplay, but he does it well enough to get you worked up.

He pulls you down in one swift motion and you let out a collective gasp. Your hand finds the headboard. You shouldn’t be doing this, but here you are, and you don’t intend on stopping.

Michael moans into the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping around you. He’s silently asking for you to take the lead, and how can you deny him this much-needed release?

You straighten your back and begin to move your hips slowly. His cock is hard, thick, and achingly buried between your velvety walls. Your breaths soon turn into little whimpers before transcending into a crescendo of moans.

Your hearts start beating in sync, and your connection deepens with every touch, every kiss, every whispered promise. You move your hips in a rhythm of your choosing, and he goes along with it, occasionally helping out when you get tired, and you can't help but succumb to the power of pleasure that is dragging you down.

As you lose yourselves in each other, the world is reduced to the rhythm of your bodies.

You circle your hips, chasing your high by chasing the sweet spot inside of you. The head of his cock bumps against it, and you moan. You continue moving just like that.

He presses open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder, licking the salty skin over your shoulder blade, and he sucks a deep purple mark in the same place the last hickey has disappeared from.

You run your fingers through his hair. He rests his forehead against your shoulder, his hands gripping your hips a little tighter.

“Michael,” you breathe.

He whispers your name back. He’s somewhere else, sweat running down his back, and the sweetest sounds come out of his mouth. He’s a mess underneath you, but he looks even more beautiful like this.

“I love you,” you tell him. “So much.”

His cock brushes against your G-spot, your clit bumping against his pelvis over and over again, and the pleasure mixes with the conflicted pain in your soul. It’s a lot. You love him so much, it’s overwhelming, and knowing about the danger you might be in makes it even worse, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. It’s your body that makes all the decisions for you right now, not your mind. Your heart is screaming for more, and you give it what it wants.

Michael grabs the back of your head and pulls you in for a searing kiss. You grab his face to pull him impossibly closer.

“I love ya too,” he tells you.

You lift your arms so he can take your shirt off. It’s getting hotter and therefore harder to breathe.

Happy with the new playground, he leans in to suck one of your nipples back into his mouth. His hand rests on the other, making sure it won’t feel neglected. He pushes all your buttons at once, eliciting moan after moan from you. It’s like you were never apart.

Sex between you has flowed effortlessly from the start, and it’s no different now. Maybe it’s because Michael knows exactly what to do, or maybe you’re just so in sync that it works; either way, you have never felt this much pleasure even from a sloppy fuck as this one, and you still manage to find it in yourselves to tell each other how much you love each other because this is not just sex, this is more. It always is more when it comes to you. You need to forget, but that’s not all. This is more than desperation. This is love.

You dig your nails into his back when he hits the sweet spot inside of you again with his cock, and the wave crashes into you almost unexpectedly. You were too focused on the way his body feels against yours that you ignored the pleasure completely.

You throw your head back. When you come, the room fills with the call of his name, followed by a string of curses and your name, and then, silence.

You remain in his arms, his cock still buried deep inside of you, his cum staining not only your insides but your thighs as well, but you’re finally close again, and you don’t want him to be anywhere else but where he is now.

Sweat stains your temple. Michael wipes it away with his thumb, caressing your face as he looks at you, his cheeks flushed. He always looks so good after sex.

You lean into his touch, closing your eyes. This is where you want and need to be. You’re alive with him. Without him, there is no you anymore.

He woke up the person that had been asleep inside of you for so long. You found yourself, and in his arms, you can be the person you should be without fearing judgment. You can just be yourself, no questions asks. He accepts and loves you unconditionally. He worships your body like a goddess, and he’s kneeling at the altar of your love.

He takes a shaky breath. “I hope I didn’t imagine that ya just came,” he says.

Your face contorts into a smile. “Trust me,” you say, “you weren’t imagining anything.”

“Good,” Michael pulls you closer, “‘cause I don’t wanna be selfish.”

“Don’t worry about me. With you, I always come.”

“Only with me, huh?” He raises his eyebrows. “No one ever made ya come before?”

You meet his eyes, your blush deepening. “I...I've never felt this way with anyone else in general. Not just with orgasms, although you win those,” you admit softly. “You just have a way of making me feel things I never thought possible, you know? It's like you have this innate understanding of my mind, body and soul. It's...it's crazy,” you bite your lip, “but, like, in a good way.”

His hand is on your arm, stroking the sensitive skin there the same way his thumb caresses your cheek, and it manages to leave goosebumps in its wake. “Yer not alone in tha, love,” he says. “You've opened up a whole new world for me too. Everything about you drives me wild. You have a spell on me, I think.” He leans in to press a tender kiss against your lips. “Witch.”

You snort. “Hey!”

He playfully bites your bottom lip. “I’m jokin’. It’s not just physical,” Michael continues, his fingers continuing to stroke your arm. “It's the way we understand each other. It's the way ya make me feel alive...like I'm truly seen and accepted for who I am. I've been so lost, but…now I feel a little less like that,” he says.

Your eyes flutter closed. He’s everywhere, all over you, and it’s hard to think straight. “Yeah, me too,” you respond, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Not much makes sense lately…”

“But you have me.”

“Yeah,” he nuzzles his nose against yours, “I do.”

You smile, your eyes still closed. You don’t need to see him, you only need to feel him close. “You should ask for a few days off to deal with things,” you say, changing the subject in a different way.

His nose rubs against yours again. “Yeah, maybe.”

“And I’m gonna stay with you for a few days to make sure you’re okay.”

“Sounds good t’me.”

“But I have work today,” you add. “Late shift.”

He sighs, cradling your head in the crook of his neck. It’s an intimate hug in the position you’re in, but you can feel his heart pounding from his chest to yours. “Money doesn’t grow on trees, does it?” he says.

You shake your head. You don’t want to leave him, but as he said, money doesn’t grow on trees and you can’t lose your job.

Your breath fans hotly across his shoulder, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

He holds you tighter. “There’s no reason ya’d have to.”

You can feel him against your temple when he presses a kiss right on the scar he found the night before. You shiver slightly, but it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. Even looking at it seemed terrifying before; his kiss works like a bandaid, keeping the memories from spilling out through the broken skin.

“I don’t want ya to lose your job ‘cause o’ me,” Michael says. “We’ll figure it out.”

You nod against his shoulder. It’s not easy juggling the demands of work and personal life, especially in times of crisis. You’re tired, mentally and physically drained, and you might as well be on the verge of slipping into depression, but that doesn’t stop life from happening.

You have to suck it up for today. Maybe you can talk to Ava about using your remaining overtime to take a day or two off to deal with stuff, but you know shit is going to hit the fan even more soon, it always does, and you’ll need even more time then. You need a whole year off to just focus on yourself, but that’s not possible. So you have to learn how to live with it. You lived in delusion before, you just have to find a way to return to this pretentious picture of a perfect life for a few hours.

You’re determined to find a way to support Michael, and he’s determined to find a way to support and protect you. You know he will, so you’re a little less scared. Even the thing with Birdy seems like something he has under control. He’ll take care of it.

One thing he can’t take away though are the demons and the memories, and that’s what keeps your mind occupied.

It’s the same you told Anthony; it hurts, and when something hurts, cigarettes and alcohol only offer a momentary relief. That’s why they’re so addictive. Your love for tequila is a dangerous game you’re playing.

You’re thinking too much and it’s starting to show.

Michael brushes the hair out of your face. “Hey, I’ll be okay,” he tells you, his voice gentle yet firm. “You take care of yourself and do what ya need t’do. I can fend for myself. We’ll have plenty of time together once yer done with work. I have things to take care of myself that can’t wait.”

You partly know what he means by that. So, you nod. You take a deep breath, trying to ease the tension in your body by rolling your shoulders, and you remember his cock is still buried deep inside of you.

You blush, a little flustered now. “Thank you,” you whisper.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, not phased in the slightest that your walls are still hugging him, keeping him warm. “Always,” he says.

With a final kiss, you reluctantly pull off of him and begin to prepare for the day ahead. As you leave the room, you take comfort in the knowledge that no matter the challenges you face, you have each other’s unwavering support. And that, in itself, gives you the strength to carry on.

Tagging: (let me know if you want to be tagged, too!) @bellaxgiornata @mattmurdocksscars @ms-murdockswift @your-not-invisible-to-me @shouldbestudying41 @glowstick-lesbian @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @norestfortheshelbywicked @1988-fiend @loveroftoomanyfandoms @mattkinsella @schneeflocky @harperdoodle @ravenclaw617 @lunaticgurly

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella x female reader #kin amc #michael kinsella angst #michael kinsella fluff #michael kinsella smut #charlie cox #chaos theory #reader insert #no y/n

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fritextramole · 2 months

Text

moments i play in the dark

part 3 of a Serena van der Woodsen playlist - best heard in order

tracklist and quotes under the cut

Writer In The Dark ~ Lorde

I still feel you, now and then Slow like pseudo-ephedrine When you see me, will you say I've changed?

Dancing With Tears In My Eyes ~ Kesha

It's all my fault I'm dancing with tears in my eyes Just fighting to get through the night I'm losing it With every move I die

Wildest Dreams ~ Taylor Swift

Say you'll remember me Standing in a nice dress Staring at the sunset, babe Red lips and rosy cheeks Say you'll see me again Even if it's just in your wildest dreams

Tomb ~ Angelo De Augustine

I walked into your life at the wrong time Never quite been perceptive of real life It was not your fault or a fault of mine But it's hard to let you go this time

Lookalike ~ Conan Gray

Don't you know we're done? And I'll admit that I sometimes, maybe, might Think about you at night, well, almost every night No matter how I try to hide And erase you from my mind I'm dying To find a lookalike

Supercut ~ Lorde

Cause in my head (In my head, I do everything right) When you call (When you call, I'll forgive and not fight)

Better in My Memory ~ Rebecca Black

Cause I've had way too much I'm gonna turn it off, turn it off Reprogramming our history so it's perfect in my mind Changing the way it ended so you never see me cry

Other Lives ~ Hazel English

I'm going under Get out of my head I'm running away From things that don't make sense

Golden Touch ~ Razorlight

That kind of girl, yes, she's never alone You leave a thousand messages on her phone But you know you never get through And you could have it all if you wanted, girl You could have it all if it matters to you

Alphabet Boy ~ Melanie Martinez

You think you're smarter than me with all your bad poetry Fuck all your ABC's, alphabet boy

Tears Dry On Their Own ~ Amy Winehouse

Even if I stop wanting you A perspective pushes through I'll be some next man's other woman soon I cannot play myself again I should just be my own best friend Not fuck myself in the head with stupid men

Heart Of Glass ~ Blondie

Once I had a love and it was divine Soon found out I was losing my mind It seemed like the real thing, but I was so blind Mucho mistrust, love's gone behind

Funplex ~ The B-52’s

Faster pussycat, thrill, thrill I'm at the mall on a diet pill Oh, broke my heart at the Funplex Yes you did, yes you did

Circus ~ Britney Spears

Don't like the back seat, gotta be first I'm like the ring leader, I call the shots I'm like a firecracker, I make it hot

Pretty ~ Coco & Clair Clair

Yeah, I'm sitting pretty but I'll leave you scarred 'Bout to pop some bottles on the fuckin' boulevard

So Good ~ Klischée

Lost inside the hype, I can taste it as I move You want to join the ride, don’t be scared to break the rules Roller coastin’ flippin’ minds around Tell me why it’s wrong if it feels so good Can’t help being bad, I got no excuse

Bubblegum Bitch ~ MARINA

Don't care if you think I'm dumb, I don't care at all Candy bear, sweetie pie, wanna be adored I'm the girl you'd die for I'll chew you up and I'll spit you out 'Cause that's what young love is all about

Liquid Smooth ~ Mitski

I'm pulsing, my blood is red and unafraid of living Beginning to end I'm liquid smooth, come touch me, too And feel my skin is plump and full of life I'm in my prime

Get This (Bang Bang) ~ Klischée

It gets me high, sweet sugar bang bang Won’t let me down, gold trigger bang bang Living life in luxury Want it all right now Think you can keep up with me? You should try and chase me down

Actors, Rappers & Wrestlers ~ Kari Faux

Only sip tequila, thirsty for the limelight Claim he wanna settle down but only when the time's right But he can’t pin me down, cause I'm not the wife type I might just spend the night or shit I might just catch a flight

Show & Tell ~ Melanie Martinez

I'm just like you, you're like me Imperfect and human, are we? Show and tell I'm on display for all you fuckers to see

The Family Jewels ~ MARINA

Family said that I decided to live a loveless life Is it my fault we stay divided? 'Cause I got too much pride Pass the parcel, wrap, unwrap, and open up the locks Out come flying all the secrets of Pandora's box

3am ~ Halsey

My insecurities are hurting me Someone, please come and flirt with me I really need a mirror that'll come along and tell me that I'm fine I do it every time I keep on hanging on the line Ignoring every warning sign Come on and make me feel alright again

Bang Bang Bang Bang ~ Sohodolls

So we put on our eyeliner And a bit of glitter dust Life at night is always finer Neon streets are full of lust

Sea Hearts ~ Honeyblood

Creatures that live just for the night I can stay out as long as I like 'Cause no one's calling me to come back inside So what we put off the rest They're so awkward in our presence We don't give a fuck, they're not our friends

The Passenger ~ Siouxsie and the Banshees

I am the passenger I stay under glass I look through my window so bright I see the stars come out tonight I see the bright and hollow sky Over the city's ripped backsides

#gg #ggplaylists #serena van der woodsen #gossip girl #source: senamarais

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ken-dala · 2 years

Text

Insomnia

♡ Patrick McKinney x f! reader ♡

You never interacted with Patrick so much, only communicated on business. Lucas Sinclair is your brother and you got to know this team through him, although you were a cheerleader, you supported the whole team but during game you could only scream your brother's name.

One time you were watching a game, you noticed that Patrick was nowhere to be found. You decided to look around the whole hall to see him, you saw him, but you had one question why he sits on replacement, he always he always played but what happened? You decided to approach Patrick and ask what happened to him.

- Patrick? Patrick

- M? Oh Y/n hey

- Everything is fine?

You decided to examine it and maybe you will notice something. Black eye because of this? Is he sitting because of the bruise?

- Are you sitting here because of the bruise?

- It seems like yes

- After the match, I'll bring you a cola

- What for? Why do I need cola

- Patrick you are like a little child

Patrick looked at me with a chuckle. You wanted to touch his bruise but he stopped you just in time by taking your wrist.

- Don't, forget about that bruise, it's nothing.

- Okay .. maybe then after the match you will tell

You expected an answer from him but he is not the kind of person who will tell everything to a stranger. Only Lucas.

Match over, team won, etc.

You wanted to approach your other team. Eddie, Erica, Dustin and Mike. To pick up Erica and just come up to say hello

But you felt the grip that held you. Someone held your wrist, it is strong but not rude, you decided to quickly turn around and see who it is

- Yo Y/n where are you going?

- Jason I'm just quick to take my little sister

- Yes, of course, I'm sorry if I scared you, will you come with us? Your brother will be there

- Yes of course it would be nice

- Great, see you

- Bye

You quickly went to the company you greeted everyone and said that you came here to pick up Erica.

- Bye Erica

- Byee!!

- Bye lady applejack.

- Lady applejack huh? Not a bad name

- This freak called me a gnome, so I told the facts

- Wow, now I see our Erica.

You see her smirk when you said it she always liked it when you gave her praise, after that she felt like a god.

You quickly got into the car, the ride was quiet and you decided that she needed a little cheer up

- So how did you play

After this question, the trip was fun and even good Erica could talk endlessly until you came home

- Well lady applejack, i need to go

- Wait what? Why?

- Basketball team

- Ugh okay bye.

- Bye!

You arrived at your destination and you saw Lucas and Patrick talking

- Lukiii

- Heh heey

You quickly approached your brother and hugged him, kissing his cheek.

- Well done, you scored in the last seconds!

- Aha!

Poor Patrick thinks what a circus I've just done in front of him.

- I'll be inside Luki if you need anything ask me

- Yea okay.

- Haha she cherishes you you are not a bad couple.

- Dude we are not a couple we are brother and sister

- Oh sorry Sinclair

- It's getting cold in here, let's go inside

- Mhm.

It was fun to spend time with them they are all kind and do nothing wrong. But somehow you don’t want to drink alcohol, your head will be spinning and the smell will be unpleasant.

It was already 2 am, there was a terrible smell of alcohol, etc. And your brother most likely tried alcohol now lies like the most drunk person. You decided to freshen up with air and quickly went outside, the moon was beautiful,and the air is just a thrill. You enjoyed this view until you felt the whisper

- Boo.

- What the hell, Patrick?! Why you do not sleep?

- To be honest, I have insomnia and I just can't sleep.

- oh..i'm sorry

- It's ok, I'm used to it. Why are you not sleeping? he asked with a laugh

- I woke up abruptly and decided to just get some air.

- Oh

- You know, I already want to sleep, I'll probably go

- Umm Sinclair?

- Yes?

- You're the only one who doesn't sleep, and I'm embarrassed to ask, but... can you help me with my insomnia?

- Uhm.. yea okay..

- Thanks..

You went inside and made a bed for Patrick so he could sleep. You did everything and Patrick immediately began to lie down and enjoy how soft this bed is.

- Everything is fine?

- Mm yes, thanks again..

- If you need anything, wake me up okay?

- Yes yes good night.

- Good night!

You are already asleep, the dream was great! Everything is fine, simple, but what is Patrick doing in this dream?

- Y/n wake up.

Patrick wouldn't wake you up, would he? But no, slowly you begin to hear his whisper and how he shakes you.

- Mm.. Yes?

- I'm sorry, but I'm ashamed again

- Spread it.

- Uhm can you lay down with me a little bit..?

- What?

- Yes, I know sorry...

- No no all is well...

- Oh. Thanks..

- You can lie down and I'll sit next to you and when you fall asleep I'll go back to my bed

- Mhm

These are the last words you remember after you fell asleep. You were awakened by the voice of Jason who woke you up. You came to your senses and decided to take a look. Damn, lying next to Patrick was awkward. You quickly got out of bed and went to the restroom. Did you hear someone knocking

- Sinclair you good?

- Yea Jason everything is good!

- Mhm..

You quickly left the restroom and when you left all eyes were on you but only Patrick was asleep.

- I understand you were having fun with Patrick

- No no he just couldn't sleep and I-I You began to stutter as everyone's attention was on you, Patrick abruptly stood up and heard everything. Good thing he got up. And then there would be so many questions

- Patrick Patrick..

- Mhm?

- What did you do last time?

- I couldn't sleep and I - He abruptly remembered everything he asked for and quickly looked at you

You explained everything and now it was clear to everyone. Well, good!

- Okay, Sinclair, I'll believe it.

- Yeah.. You know, school will start soon, we should hurry!

You are already at school and looking for your sister and her team. Mike, Eddie and Dustin eat while Erica is elsewhere.

- Sinclair!

- ?

- Can we talk about yesterday?

- Mhm..

- So.. Did i really asked for you to stay by my side because of my insomnia?

- Yep..

He came up to you and hugged you, although his arms were powerful, he tried not to press too hard against you.

- Thank you.

SORRY THAT I WRITE WITH SUCH CHARACTERS PATRICK I LIKE IT SO MUCH!!!

#patrick mckinney #lucas sinclair #stranger things x reader #stranger things #jason carver #erica sinclair

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hadesrise · 2 years

Text

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕿𝖜𝖔 — 𝙁𝙄𝙍𝙀 𝘽𝙀𝘼𝙐𝙏𝙔 𝘼𝙏 𝘾𝙄𝙍𝘾𝙐𝙎.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER｜NEXT CHAPTER

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞. dick thought going to a well known circus for an important mission will only make him feel nauseous due to the death of his parents, but he ends up feeling something else instead.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘. dick grayson x phoenix!male reader

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘. fluff, strong language, torture (reader’s being shot), protective dick, soulmate bond, murderous urges, circus leader is a fucking asshole, rich bruce wayne strikes again, very little sexual jokes at the end, what the fuck is this romance it’s cute

𝖈𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖊𝖓 𝖆𝖚. soulmate au.

“Tell me why did I agree to this?” Dick anxiously fiddled with his fingers after five minutes have passed since he and Bruce left the manor in one of Bruce’s cars.

“Because you were the only one available and you know plenty about circus than I do.” Bruce replied, giving him a side eye as his hand gripped the wheel.

They found an article that a journalist has written about the circus that recently started rising to popularity after their animal show went successful. The article stated it wasn’t a pleasant kind of circus, it was a hell circus where the leader treats his members cruelly and horribly, both on show and behind the curtains, and people had grown concerned over the health of its members, including animals. However, the people’s reports are seemed to be ignored by anyone who could help put the end to cruelty as the leader shuts them down with everything he can, going as far as threatening those who try to shut his circus down.

Diana informed Bruce that he might be the only one who could help setting the circus members free from their captor due to being a billionaire who most likely intimidates everyone.

Agreeing to look after the case, Bruce asked Dick to join him on investigating this circus, knowing Dick has more knowledge about circus than he does. The only problem is that Dick is reluctant on watching a circus because of what happened to his parents, and he cannot handle seeing other person experience what he did.

“Well, yeah... I agreed to this, but...” Dick trails off, unsure.

Bruce stops at the red traffic lights and turned to look at him, concern written on his face. “If you don’t want to do this we can go back. I’m not going to force you to come with me.” He squeezed Dick’s shoulder reassuringly.

Biting his lips, Dick went silent as he thinks for a while.

Out of everyone in Wayne manor, it’s not a surprise that he’s the only one who’s a lot knowledgeable about circus considering he grew up in one. But that also came with his trauma of seeing his parents fall to their demise. If Dick was asked if he wanted to go to a circus just to watch, he’d probably say no.

However, this is a mission and not personal matters. Bruce isn’t taking him there to watch a show. They will be there to check if what the article said was true, and if the leader is really responsible for everything.

So Dick takes a deep breath, and subconsciously rubs the phoenix tattoo on his wrist, right above his pulse.

He had this tattoo since birth.

When Dick was young, he would often trace it before the Flying Grayson’s show to calm his nerves down and it always helped soothe his overwhelmed feelings. He doesn’t know why, but the phoenix tattoo never failed to provide him comfort that he wanted and needed. Touching it made him feel safe all the time, no matter what, when or where.

His mother said it must be his soulmate making sure he’s feeling okay and that he’s out of danger, looking after him with every chance they get.

The tattoo is always warm for some unknown reason, and Dick thinks his mother might be right. They never figured out why it’s a phoenix, though.

Finally, Dick lets out a relieved sigh after feeling his phoenix tattoo’s warmness. “I’m fine. Let’s just continue.”

Bruce glanced at Dick’s wrist and looks back ahead, moving the car again seeing the red light turn green. The corners of his lips twitched to form a subtle smile as he recalls the occurrence from a month ago, when Jason found his unique yet adorable soulmate.

They ended up building a human sized, ridiculously large fish tank in Jason’s room which cost less than even one half of Bruce’s wallet so his amphibian soulmate could stay, and the two are now peacefully living at the manor together; with Jason sometimes joining his soulmate in the tank to swim around.

They’re awfully, unbelievably and disgustingly in love, according to Damian.

“What are you smiling at?” Dick asked, eyes narrowed suspiciously. It’s sort of creepy seeing his adoptive father smile all of a sudden, even if it’s barely a smile.

Bruce chuckles, shaking his head. “I just remembered how your brother found his soulmate a month ago. He used to say he didn’t want a soulmate, but look at him now.”

Dick snorts, “Are you kidding me? I caught him reading Princess and the Frog when he was fourteen.” The bigger male beside him barks a laughter at that, to which he followed soon after. “It’s kind of a miracle his soulmate turned out to be a sea creature which is his favorite more than anything.”

“Maybe that’s why he’s so smitten.” Bruce jokes, earning a laughter from him.

But then, he abruptly grows silent that made the older Wayne question as he shifted his gaze from the road to Dick, who seemed to be suddenly deep in thought.

“Dick, what is it?”

Looking at Bruce, Dick frowns after snapping himself out of his thoughts. “I’m just wondering when I’ll get to meet my soulmate. I mean, I’ve had this phoenix tattoo my whole life and Jason didn’t have any marks, but he found his before me.” His tone drops into a sad one.

“They’ve been giving me comfort and sense of safety since I was a kid, and with our line of work... I just want to see or meet them before it’s too late.”

Bruce’s eyes softened.

He caught Dick multiple times trying to search the meaning behind his phoenix tattoo and how to find his destined soulmate fast after Jason met the amphibian god. No results were found regarding his tattoo due to all human beings having different ways of indication that they have a soulmate.

He understands why Dick feels anxious.

They’re vigilantes and put themselves in danger almost all the time — Dick wants to feel what it feels like to have his soulmate close by while he’s alive.

It’s inevitable that he feels envious of Jason; Dick has always wanted to meet his soulmate ever since his parents told him the tattoo meant he had someone he’s destined to be with. Almost every day, Dick longed to meet the person who always makes sure he’s safe and is feeling okay even after he became Nightwing. The longing never left his heart.

He’s happy for his brother, though. Don’t get him wrong. It’s not Jason’s fault that he hasn’t yet to meet his soulmate anyway. The universe is the one who decides that.

“You will meet your soulmate soon, Dick. Don’t lose hope.” Bruce brings his hand up to pat his son’s head. “They might just be out there, waiting for you to save them like how Jason did.”

Dick stares at his father’s eyes and upon seeing the sincerity and effort to give a comfort, smiles.

“You think so?”

He nods. “Not impossible, is it?”

Dick shakes his head, subconsciously rubbing the phoenix tattoo again. “It’s not impossible. But if that’s true...” He looks at the tattoo, “I’ll do whatever it takes to save them.”

“I knew you would say that.” Bruce chuckled, ruffling Dick’s hair as the younger smiled at him. “There’s no need to rush anything, Dick. The universe will let you find your soulmate whenever it wants you to. You just have to be patient.”

“Thanks, Bruce.”

A sudden call ringing throughout the car stopped their peaceful conversation, both of their smiles dropping after the caller ID displayed Tim’s name. They’ve asked him to do a quick research regarding the circus on the way there for more informations, since there were not enough evidence of the leader being out right cruel.

Receiving Tim’s call only ten minutes after leaving the manor meant emergency and that he found something urgent or important.

Body tensing, Dick anxiously watches as Bruce answered the call using his car’s monitor. He honestly did not want it to be a bad news, but an urgent call from Tim usually meant bad news.

“Bruce?” Tim’s voice echoed from the other line.

“What did you find?” Bruce asks, eyeing his son sideways when he starts to stare at his tattoo.

A sigh comes before Tim’s voice dropped, tone darkening. “This is a serious matter, Bruce. There are several reports of animal cruelty, extreme discrimination and mistreatment towards circus members, and slavery. All of these reports came from people that went to see the circus out of curiosity and ended up leaving halfway through because they can’t stand it.”

Dick’s breath hitches.

The circus he used to be in was a peaceful place. Anyone treated everyone equally and with kindness, even animals that they had to train.

It feels heavy on his shoulders and his chest felt like being squeezed when he realizes not all circus are as kind as his used to be. There are cruel people no matter what, and it was upsetting.

“Why do people still come and watch the circus?” Bruce asked, nearing to their destination.

“Because of the phoenix show.” Tim’s answer was simple that made both Bruce and Dick furrow their brows. Phoenix is supposed to be a myth, even though Dick had the exact creature tattooed on his wrist.

“What do you mean the phoenix show?”

“From what the circus leader told the audience, he was blessed and was given a phoenix as a gift when he was young.” A mouse click was heard on the other line. “But what people found odd is that the phoenix isn’t a bird creature, it’s a human with phoenix features.”

Dick widened his eyes as he shared a look with Bruce.

Could it be...?

But maybe the fact that this person’s close to phoenix doesn’t have anything to do with his tattoo. And they’re not even certain what this person looks like, or if he’s actually Dick’s soulmate. There’s nothing that could prove this phoenix is his soulmate.

But then, his tattoo might be a hint of who his soulmate could be. It might’ve been an indication that his soulmate isn’t particularly and fully human just like Jason’s wasn’t.

Perhaps, the universe have given him a clue since he was born that his soulmate is extraordinary, so he could prepare himself. And perhaps, the universe made Jason find his soulmate first so Dick would understand that a very different specie can be destined to be with another specie.

Dick used to believe all humans had humans as soulmate. Now that Jason has an amphibian one, his belief changed drastically and he has come to envy their connection somehow; as if he wanted an extraordinary love himself. The universe’s plan must have worked well.

“The people came to watch particularly the phoenix show expected something exciting and wonderful, but they got horrors and regret instead. This one report says it’s the worst show a circus could ever have.” Tim sighed, breath shaky as if he’s holding back his rage and both of the men caught up to it. “You know phoenix is known to come back to life after it dies, right?”

Dick’s heart drops to his stomach. I don’t like where this is going.

“Yes.” Bruce said, his tone low.

“Well... You probably guessed it right. This phoenix show is called Rebirth. Basically, the leader shoots the phoenix to death so he comes back to life, thus rebirth. They do this repeatedly to the point many people walks out.”

“Fucking bastard.” Dick mutters under his breath, fists clenching as he shifts his gaze at the phoenix tattoo. If this person is really his soulmate, he’d never forgive the circus leader for everything he did.

“This circus has to stop, Bruce.” Tim convinced. “It’s practically a murder! Not to mention the tortures those animals and circus members endured. You two need to save them.”

“You don’t need to ask, Tim.” Dick’s voice come out low and menacing, unable to contain the utmost rage bubbling inside him. Is this what Jason felt when he saw that scientist torture his soulmate? Almost murderous, like he wants to kill the circus leader, wants him to suffer the most painful death, wants him gone.

That would break Bruce’s rules, but does he really have the self-control to not beat the fuck out of that leader?

No, he does not. And certainly, he will never regret it if he was to kill him.

Bruce meet his dark eyes and shakes his head, “Contain yourself, Dick. Killing this circus leader will do no good to you nor to anyone else.”

The Grayson avoided his eyes and instead chooses to look out the window, keeping his clenched fists from hitting anything. He was clearly in distress, wanting to save the phoenix even though it’s uncertain if he’s Dick’s soulmate.

However, his distress was mixed with something else he can’t exactly pinpoint. There’s panic, anxiety, worry, and fear. The worst thing is they weren’t coming from him — those emotions came from the phoenix tattoo on his wrist, rushing throughout his body like a big flood. The negative emotions were mixing in, and Dick couldn’t help but realize it was his soulmate feeling all of this.

He looks over, and notices the tattoo looks a lot different than before. The phoenix is supposed to be raising both of its wings high in his tattoo, but now it had its wings wrapped around itself, like it was scared.

The blood drains from his face.

“Dick? Bruce?” Tim’s voice called out from the monitor.

“My soulmate’s in danger.” Dick blurts out, making Bruce immediately shift his eyes to the tattoo on his wrist. “They’re asking for help, Bruce. What if the phoenix in this circus is my soulmate?”

“We can’t jump into conclusions.” Bruce calmly decides, “But it could be possible.” He speeds up the car more despite his protest to Dick’s conclusion because of the higher possibility that this phoenix could be his soulmate.

The tattoo was already a hint, if the phoenix isn’t his soulmate, then who else?

Dick takes a deep breath to calm himself before rubbing the tattoo in a comforting manner, wanting his soulmate to feel and know that he’s there. He doesn’t know how his soulmate were able to calm his nerves down whenever he needed it, but it never hurts to try.

Closing his eyes, he starts to talk in his mind hoping his soulmate would feel at least a thing of what he was saying.

I’m here. Please know I’m here.

Don’t be scared, I’ll do anything I can to help you. Please, hold on. Hold on just a little bit more.

“Bruce, I just got a news.” Tim’s voice came from the monitor again. “The cops are already in the circus undercover. Most of the audience are cops and not civilians. The journalist gave enough evidence. They’re just waiting something to happen so they could arrest the leader.”

“Is the journalist also there?” Bruce asked, occasionally glancing at Dick who still had his eyes closed, internally talking to his soulmate.

“She is.”

“Well then, we can settle this fast.”

Dick and Bruce arrived at the circus a little while after the show has started, and they can’t help but notice few people leaving with a look of disbelief on their faces, presumably due to the shows they’ve watched.

It’s sad how they all came to enjoy a show, but ended up getting horrified instead.

A loud, pained scream erupted from the circus, making the people leaving and the father-son duo to flinch upon hearing it. Some of the people even crouched down and covered their ears with their eyes closed, body shaking violently, tears on the corners of their eyes.

They must feel helpless, hearing the screams of poor circus members that got dragged into this madness. Knowing they can’t help in any way because the circus leader is a freak, who has more money than average.

But of course, his money cannot come close to Bruce’s.

The pair immediately rushed to the entrance, finding two guards there, covering their eyes as if they were crying. And indeed, they were because one of them sniffled. However, when they looked up and saw Bruce Wayne, the famous billionaire, their cries seemed to grow more.

“Mr. Wayne! Please, help the circus members. They need to be free.” One of them cried, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Specially (Y/n). He has it hard more than anyone. Please, you’re a billionaire, you can do a thing or two to stop this cruelty.” The other guard also begs as he shot a glance inside.

Bruce nodded. “That’s why we’re here.”

The guards looked at each other with hope shining in their eyes and they were quick to let both of them in before entering themselves and closing the curtains behind them, knowing what kind of commotion is going to follow.

Almost immediately, Dick’s hand flies over to cover his mouth in disbelief and wonder as soon as he saw what’s in front of them. Bruce freezes as well, both of their eyes widening.

There was a man with gigantic, red wings standing in the middle of the circus, alongside who seemed like the leader. Your red wings wrapped around you for protection, but the fear inside doesn’t disappear. Your tattoo was giving you comfort before, but now that it’s gone, you feel fear completely spread throughout your body.

Where could your soulmate be?

Are they safe?

You asked yourself weakly in your mind, feeling exhaustion take over your consciousness, probably due to dying and coming back to life multiple times. Even though you had the ability to do that, it was exhausting repeating the same thing over and over again for two whole years.

Hearing the click of a gun, you shift your gaze from the ground to the leader. He had a menacing glare, as if to tell you to push yourself.

By this time, Dick and Bruce had rushed down the stairs towards the front row — Dick’s attention fully focused on you, his eyes trying to search for something.

You shake your head at the leader, “S-stop, Blake... Please. I’m- I’m weak already. If you shoot me one more time, I might not come back to life anymore.”

“I don’t fucking care.” Blake spat and disbelief spreads across your face. “I make money out of you and I’ll use you for as long as I can.”

You could see his finger moving to pull the trigger and closed your eyes, embracing yourself for yet another pain that’ll come from being shot. However, when the gunshot echoed all throughout the circus, you find yourself flinching but not losing consciousness. Instead, you heard a struggling noise and opened your eyes to see someone trying to knock the gun off the leader’s hands.

Suddenly, most of the audience stood up and pulled a gun out of nowhere, all of them rushing down the steps to surround Dick and Blake. You watched nervously as Dick knees him in the stomach before kicking the gun out of his hand and landing a hard punch on his face. Blake stumbles back, who got both of his arms held immediately by the undercover cops.

Bruce approaches with a smug look, smirking. “Your leadership skill is the worst one I’ve ever seen.”

“What the fuck are you doing!?” Blake struggles against the cops. “You can’t fucking do this to me, I own this circus!” He yells angrily.

“I’ll buy this circus.” Bruce just casually said. “And I was approved beforehand, so you have no choice but to give it to me. You’re going to jail anyway.”

You watch the cops drag him away and a relieved sigh leaves your lips. Just then, the exhaustion finally takes over as you feel yourself dropping, but being caught by Dick before you could hit the ground.

He gently sets you down while other circus members rushed out from the backstage to check your state, surrounding the two of you. Dick’s concerned blue eyes were the first thing that caught your eyes, meeting each other and though exausted, you felt your sleepiness slowly fade away as you look into his eyes.

“Are you okay?” His voice was soft and gentle, more gentle than anyone had ever been with you.

You raise your hand up to weakly cup his cheek, staring into that bright blue eyes of his. “I can see the sky... in your eyes.” You say breathlessly. There’s no care that exhaution is washing over your body, you wanted to stare at his eyes for as long as you can.

Dick smiles a soft one, helping you sit up in his arms while being careful not to touch your wings. “I see a fire beauty, even though he’s exhausted.”

His little joke brought a smile to your face. Dick slowly brings his hand up to brush a strand of hair away from your forehead and you saw the phoenix tattoo on his wrist, making you suddenly grasp his hand.

He stops, worried if he did something wrong until he noticed you’re staring at his tattoo. “I had that tattoo since I was born. My mother said it’s an indication that I have a soulmate.”

You look at him, eyes shining brighter.

Dick could feel his heart being tugged as he stares into your eyes. There’s definitely a spark between you; he can’t stop himself from admiring your features and feels like he can stare at you forever. His chest feels warm and butterflies are filling his stomach.

Could you really be his soulmate?

Before he could speak further more, the sound of wings flapping reached his ears as he felt warmth surround the both of you. He looks up to see your gigantic, beautiful red wings spread around like a nest, protecting you and him. Then, you gently take a hold of his hand before showing your wrist, which had the tattoo of a boy doing handstand in front of the Nightwing symbol that Dick has in his suits.

His blue eyes widened, but you saw a glimpse of joy and comfort flash in them, as if he was comforted by the idea of finally finding his soulmate.

You smile with a sigh of relief, the cloud of heaviness in your chest dissolving into a fit of nothing.

Somewhere deep inside, you always feared you won’t get to see your soulmate — that you will be stuck in this cruel circus forever. It’s why you always made sure to let them know you’re here for them.

Dick slips his hand to yours and intertwines your fingers together so your tattoos can touch. Warmth surrounded you and Dick as the tattoos glowed a bright golden, and you looked at each other before resting your forehead on his. The golden glow starts to spread outwards, from the start of your wings — where your spine and the bone of your wings meet — to the tip of the feathers.

The circus members let out a noise of surprise and awe in sync, even the cops and Bruce can’t help but stare at the beauty of your glowing wings.

You and Dick pulled away from each other just as your wings begin to turn back into its natural color; burning red. Fluttering your wings, you gently let them rest behind your back, lips curling up to form a smile.

“Pleasure to meet you, my soulmate.”

Dick almost melted because of your voice right then and there. He was still holding you, but he wants to hold you more closer.

“I’d say I hit a jackpot.” He smirks, “You’re one beautiful man.”

A pink tint spreads across your cheek as you shift your gaze on anything but him, not used to receiving compliments. Many people complimented you for your wings and never you in general; they only found them beautiful but not yourself.

It feels tingly hearing “you’re one beautiful man” instead of “your wings are beautiful” that people often say.

“Don’t look away. I love your eyes.” Dick’s statement made you look back at him.

You raise one eyebrow before one of your wings moved, brushing a strand of hair that fell on his forehead. Dick’s heartbeat sped up at the feeling of soft feathers touching his skin.

“You’re the one to talk with that bright blue eyes.”

Oops. It came off more flirtatious than you intended it to be.

Dick chuckles, biting his lip. As if hypnotized, your gaze shifts down to his lips and then back to his eyes, with Dick doing exactly the same as you start to feel connected with each other.

Suddenly, Bruce clears his throat to snap you and Dick out of the daze you surrounded yourself with. “I’m sorry to ruin this moment, but we still have things to do. It needs to be decided whether this circus will remain as it is or not,” He looks at other circus members present and nods reassuringly. “And everyone will decide together.”

All of them grinned widely and exchanges a joyful look, some even cheering, absolutely thrilled that they’ll finally be free after years and years of cruelty.

Dick stands up and holds his hand out for you to take, but you only stare at it. He wonders why you don’t move until he hears the whooshing sound of your wings, gracefully moving against the gravity to lift yourself up in the air.

Smirking, your soulmate gives you an impressed look. “That’s one way to stand up.”

You shrugged as you landed on the ground. “I adore using my wings. My only purpose was to die and come back to life ever since I came here, but now that I’m free, I can use it.” Dick admires the absolute cheerful and happy look on your face, practically smitten over your beautiful smile.

He knows you’re a phoenix, but damn, you might just be an angel with red gigantic wings.

At least to him, you are.

Noticing the adoring look he’s giving, you bite the inside of your mouth to keep yourself from smiling as a blush formed on your cheeks, wings fluttering due to the happiness and warmth you felt just by being close to your soulmate.

The life in circus was nothing but hell; getting starved, being beaten or shot, getting tortured, having to watch other members die because of all the cruelty without being able to do anything, fearing the leader everyday— everything made you question if it’s worth living.

However, seeing Dick right in front of you all in his glory made you feel thankful that you hadn’t chosen your own fate. If you had, you wouldn’t have met him and he’d probably be alone all his life.

It was right choosing to live, even though it might be the hardest choice you had to ever make.

Approaching Dick with slow steps, you stopped in front of him to stare into his eyes first. He has the most gorgeous eyes you’ve ever seen — not that you saw many.

“What is it?” He asks softly, rubbing your cheek very gently with the back of his fingers.

You smiled, not saying a word as you wrapped your arms around him, followed by your gigantic wings that engulfed him fully. Burying your face on the crook of his neck, you felt Dick take a second to process before hugging you back, being careful not to touch your wings, probably assuming they’re sensitive and easy to be hurt.

You inhaled his scent and felt at peace in his arms, like it’s the place where you belong. “Thank you for saving me.”

“You’re my soulmate. It’s what I always wanted to do.” Dick’s soothing voice said and starts petting your head, which made your sleepiness return due to how comforting it was. And because you’ve been exhausted few minutes ago before the soulmate bond gave you enough energy, it’s no surprise you need a good sleep, considering you’ve been tortured most of your life.

“I’m getting sleepy... So tired.” You mutter, voice muffled.

He tightens his hold on you, “Then sleep on me. I promise everything will be fine after you wake up...” Trailing off, Dick internally cursed himself for not asking your name first. He totally forgot to because of the soulmate bond — it made him focus on you completely.

You chuckle quietly, realizing you thanked him without asking for his name. That should’ve been first priority. “It’s (Y/n).” You answer and can’t keep the yawn from coming out.

“(Y/n)... That’s a nice name.” He compliments and you smiled at the tender sound of his voice that didn’t forget to talk softly in fear of startling you. “I’m Dick Grayson.”

“You have a unique name.”

He snorted, “It’s short for Richard, (Y/n).”

For a moment, you feel your breath stop at the sound of your name falling from his lips, but it quickly returns to normal as you nuzzled on his shoulder. “I think it’s wonderful. However, I’m really starting to get sleepy. Will you carry me, please?” You pull away only enough to look at his eyes which held the beauty of morning sky you’ve always wanted to see.

It’s freedom. He is freedom.

“Sure! Come on, jump.” His answer was fast, slipping his hands down from your hips to your thighs and squeezing them to give you a signal.

Grinning, you do as he says and jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist while your arms around his neck. Dick’s hands immediately goes to support you by the thighs, gripping them just enough so you wouldn’t slip and fall to the ground. You fluttered your wings a little before letting them rest completely to relax. Burying your face into the crook of his neck, you finally let the sleepiness take over as your eyes closed and you relaxed against his shoulder.

His presence alone was comforting. It’s probably the power of your soulmate bond, but you were too much sleepy and at peace to care.

A warm smile spreads across Dick’s lips at hearing your slow yet calm breathing and he starts to pet your head, wanting to add more comfort. Given how you were treated by the leader, he wants you to feel loved, appreciated, adored and cherished.

He wants to make you feel something you’ve never felt before, just like you did to him.

Bruce approached with an amused look. “Fast asleep?”

“Yeah, you saw how that leader treated them. I’m surprised he even came this far.” Dick muttered enough for Bruce to hear. The last thing he wants is to wake you up when you finally got the rest you well deserved.

Nodding with a smile, Bruce glances at you and shifts his gaze up to his son, who already plastered a loving look.

Dick was content with his soulmate. Dick found what he was looking for all this years. It makes the Batman happy, yet something’s tugging on his heart, like... longing?

If only he could find a soulmate like this.

If only he knew how to figure out if he was blessed with a soulmate or not.

“I’ll just bring him to the car so he can lay down.” Dick’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts and he shakes them off, giving Dick a short reply while nodding.

“Make sure the seats are comfortable. He might wake up before we could finish here if they’re not.”

“I know, Bruce.”

You wake up to the unfamiliar feeling of someone holding you close and opened your eyes to see Dick sleeping peacefully by your side. His arm rested on your waist, probably because he can’t wrap it around you without hurting or crushing your wings.

A smile grows on your lips.

They weren’t that fragile, in fact, they’re strong enough to land a harsh smack to someone’s gut and produce an intense wind by swinging them strongly in the air, so there would be no problem with him touching them.

Though, you could agree they’re sensitive, specially where your wings and body meet. That’s one place which isn’t allowed to be touch since, well, it could get a different reaction out of you, but we will not talk about that.

Raising your hand, you gently brush away a strand of his hair that fell on his face so you could stare more at him. Dick is the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, no one can blame you if you love staring too much.

Soon, a groan escapes his throat as he wakes up, eyes opening to show his bright blue orbs. And as soon as he meets eye contact with you, such an adorable smile spreads across his sleepy face.

You also notice a faint blush forming on your soulmate’s cheeks, causing a giggle to be forced out of your lips.

God, even your giggle sounded elegant and amazing to his ears. It’s like angels singing in heaven.

“Good morning, (Y/n).” Dick greets and clears his throat, voice a little raspy due to just being out of sleep. He honestly still sounds good even if he just woke up.

“Good morning to you too, my dearest.” You lean in to kiss his forehead before laying on your stomach, chin resting on the pillow as your wings flapped softly. They immediately fold back to its original place. “Coming from my curiosity, may I ask how did the circus go?”

He smiled and takes your hand to play with it. “Everything went well, Bruce and I talked to the journalist that made an article about the situation at your circus, and she said she wanted to take the circus’s place to build a pet shop.”

Happiness flashed in your eyes, “Really?”

“Really.” Dick confirms. “Apparently, she’s been wanting to buy the circus out so she can fulfill her dream, but have been unsuccessful until now. Bruce is helping her in building the biggest and most helpful pet shop in Gotham. Though, you could say she’s an independent woman. She had everything planned before and now Bruce’s just there to give her enough money for pet shops ‘cause she helped taking down the shittiest man on planet earth.”

You chuckle, “How does she feel about Bruce giving her money?”

“She hates it.” Dick shrugs his shoulders, “But Bruce’s too persistent so she doesn’t really have much of a choice.”

You look at each other with a smile before slowly bursting into laughter.

It feels easy to be yourself around Dick just as he feels easy to be himself around you, and that’s probably the great thing about this soulmate bond. Although you just met like yesterday, having him feels very special and your heart obviously desires to be with him for the rest of your life. Dick’s in the same situation as well, feeling lightheaded just by being close to you, the urge to protect his soulmate with everything he can growing as he looks into your eyes.

The laughter comes to quiet down when Dick brings his hand up to caress your face and you take an opportunity to admire his features.

“You have a unique beauty, (Y/n).” He says, voice barely above a whisper, as if fearing you might go away if he talks any more louder. “Everything about you... They’re what I longed for. All my life I’ve been wondering whether I’ll get to meet my soulmate or not before it’s too late, because you’ve been bringing peace and comfort to me everytime I was feeling down.”

He then grabs your hand to place a tender kiss on the back of it, “Thank you for looking after me all this years. Now, it’s my turn to look after you.”

You smile and slip your hand through his, pushing yourself forward to capture his lips in the most softest and gentle way Dick has ever experienced.

Suddenly, he feels like his heart would pop out of the ribcage any moment from how rapid it was beating. The pump of your pulse coming from your intertwined hands let him know your heart is beating just as loud as his was, making butterflies fill his stomach as he closes his eyes to cherish the feeling and taste of your lips.

However, the moment was cut short when the door to his room opened with an all too familiar voice ruining the peaceful atmosphere.

“Dicky can’t find his soulmate after just a month of me meeting mine. That’s—” Jason finally shifts his gaze from Tim to Dick’s room and cuts himself off after seeing his adoptive brother kissing a... bird-human hybrid.

As a matter of fact, phoenix-human hybrid.

Embarrassed by being caught and the sudden interruption, you quickly pulled away to hide yourself in your wings, covering your face with them, but actually covering your entire body from how gigantic they were.

“Holy shit.”

“I told you.” Tim stated smugly. He finds amusement in surprising Jason and seeing his jaw drop.

Dick groans, grabbing a pillow to throw at them. “Cockblocker.” He muttered under his breath. You gently smacked him with a look.

Jason caught the pillow easily before it could hit his face, still surprised. “I can’t fucking believe this.”

The disbelief in his tone made you frown, negative thoughts lacing your mind that he might not be fond of his brother having an inhuman soulmate.

What am I gonna do? However, your worry was cut short at his next sentence.

“I already have an inhuman soulmate, Dick. Can’t you have originality?” Jason says while shooting him a look, one brow raised. Tim snorted and coughs to cover it up as Jason glared at him. Sometimes, the Todd’s pettiness was childish and pretty funny.

Dick rolled his eyes, “I can’t choose my soulmate, Jay. And even if I could, I would still choose him. Just deal with it.”

Jason crossed his arms and huffs childishly. “Not a chance. My soulmate should remain as the superior inhuman soulmate.”

“Jason, your soulmate’s literally a god. I don’t think anyone could be more superior than him.” The younger one out of the three deadpanned. “Phoenix is a divine being, but they can’t come close to a god so you dodged a bullet there.”

Your eyebrows raised at that, curiosity bubbling inside you all of a sudden at the mention of another inhuman soulmate. Aside from curiosity, you felt relieved hearing you’re not gonna be the only inhuman one in this manor full of humans.

“I won.” Jason smirks.

“Since when was this even a competition?” Dick tilts his head, giving him a look. “And you saw mine already, can you get out and give us some privacy?”

The green eyed brother rolled his eyes, “Whatever. It’s time for breakfast so Alfred’s asking you to come down. Bring your lover along.” He says, gagging jokingly.

“Shut up, you amphibian fucker.”

Jason gasped and places his hand over his chest in feigned hurt, offended a little, and Tim snickered. “Ooh.”

“We haven’t even done anything!”

“Oh really, Jay?”

“That’s it, I’m gonna tell Alfred not to give you any breakfast ‘cause you want to fuck your birdy longer.” That’s all Jason declared and quickly runs off, rushing through the hallway to reach the stairs.

Dick let out a gasp and shoots up almost immediately to sprint after his brother. “JASON!!!” The Todd’s evil and mischievous cackling could be heard from afar along with their running footsteps.

Your chuckle turns into laughter as you heard Jason curse before a loud smack followed, along with Jason’s yell of pain. Dick must’ve caught up to him.

“I heard about what happened.” Tim spoke and approached you, making your laughter die down. He sits on the bed on your side, “I’m sorry about everything you had to go through.”

You shake your head, smiling. “It must have happened for a reason. You don’t have to be sorry. And although I suffered more than I should have, I’m thankful I was in that circus because it’s what brought us together.”

Tim gives you a warm smile at that, bringing his hand up to gently squeeze your shoulder. “Your suffering is over now. You’re safe here and I’m sure Dick will protect you no matter what.” He then stood up and you mimicked him, standing up as well so you could join them in breakfast.

“We said this a month ago to Jason’s soulmate, but welcome to the family, (Y/n).”

Your wings waved behind you. A sign that Tim took as happiness, and he smiled. You were quite expressive with your wings.

“Thank you.”

What you went through was hell, but you gained more than what you asked for — a soulmate, love and possibly family. You couldn’t be more excited with what the future holds on both you and Dick.

Oh, and meeting this other inhuman soulmate as well.

Now, that’s the first on your excitement list.

593 notes · View notes

butwhyduh · 3 years

Note

"There is only one bed" "Exes forced to work together" and "Accidentally cuddling in sleep" with homeboy Dickie please <3

There were certain members of the Titans who said Dick’s superpower was being friends with his exes. Not very many of them had ill feelings for him after breakup despite everything that happened in their relationship. You tried to be like them. Kori could laugh at his jokes while he dated Barbara. Zatanna would often give him an open mouth kiss when she saw him and yet had no interest in dating him again.

But you weren’t like that. You didn’t know how to act around him. Possibly because you didn’t exactly break up normally, or at all. He just disappeared. It had been for a mission but still. He could have called or talked to you afterwards. That’s why you were mad. It was inconsiderate, you thought as you ignored the tiny voice that told you that you couldn’t be normal around him because you still liked him.

And currently you were dying because you had teamed up with Dick on a mission. Both of your skill sets matched for the mission’s needs and so this is how you ended up at the front counter of a Swiss hotel high in the mountain trying to get 2 hotel rooms instead of one. Or even just another bed.

“Madame, I apologize but there is no other room at this hotel. We are very sorry for the mix up but this is all we have. The nearest hotel is 30 kilometers north so I have very little I can do. Again, I apologize,” said the man. “It is the busy season.”

You sighed. “That’s fine. I’m tired. It’ll be fine,” you said grabbing the keys a little rougher than necessary. Dick looked at the man apologetically before following you.

The hotel was actually really nice. Very traditional with red ornamental patterned rugs and golden brown beaded board halfway up the wall. A gold chandelier hung in the front entry. A bellboy carried your bags up to the room and let you in.

The room was just as nice but tiny. Barely had enough room for the bed and a small table with 2 chairs and a tv stand. A little closet sat behind door and the tiny window with covered in thick curtains.

You tossed your bag in the closet without a care and pulled off your shoes. You groaned and stretched your toes before flopping on the bed.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Dick said grabbing a pillow.

“No just get in bed. There isn’t enough floor to sleep on. It’ll kill your back to sleep weird,” you said with a yawn. Dick stood awkwardly. You hadn’t thought about it but you were probably his only awkward ex and he didn’t know what to do about it.

“You sure? I don’t wanna be in your space,” Dick said tentatively laying down the pillow. You patted the mattress.

“You could sleep in the room beside me and I think you’d still be in my face with how tiny these rooms are,” you said and he chuckled.

“Yeah, this hotel is probably like 500 years old or something,” he said laying down. He was on his edge of the bed and you on yours. “Did I ever tell you that we toured out here when I was a kid in the circus?”

You turned to look at him. “No you haven’t. What was it like?”

“It was cold but fun. My mom got mad when I tried to do flips barefoot in the snow,” he said with a laugh. “I was probably 6. She thought I was going to get deathly sick from the cold.”

“That sounds exactly like something a mom would say,” you said with a smile.

“I also remember one of the sword swallowers tried to learn the language to speak to all the pretty women that came to the shows but he learned Swedish instead,” Dick said and you both laughed.

“I bet that didn’t go well.”

“He got lucky and the first woman he talked to spoke Swedish! It was pretty funny,” Dick said with a yawn. “We should probably get some sleep.”

“Yeah,” you said and the pillow felt like heaven. Your eyelids felt heavy and before you knew it, you were asleep. Hours later you woke to light hitting your eyes through the curtains so you snuggled closer to get it out of your eyes. Arms that wrapped around you tightened a little and you felt a humming noise that threatened to put you back to sleep.

Hot breath against your cheek made you move again. This time you woke up to take in your surroundings. A collarbone. Arms around your back. Legs tangled in your own. You hadn’t taken anyone home last night. Who was that? You blinked before realizing that you were in Dick’s arms.

You pulled back a little and he whined in his sleep and held you tighter. His touch was warm and comforting and you almost wanted to be lulled back to sleep with him. But Dick wasn’t your boyfriend and you needed to move. You shifted again and he opened his eyes to look at you in surprise.

“Oh,” he said. You both froze. “Sorry,” Dick muttered before moving his hands away slowly. His didn’t scoot away from you.

You looked at him and the way he looked at you stopped you from moving. It was raw and unfiltered in the mornin light and he clearly wasn’t over you. He looked down at your lips before looking back at your eyes.

“Morning,” you said softly. You looked down as he licked his lips. They looked soft and shiny. You slid your hand to his arm. Almost painfully slow, Dick scooted closer to where your lips were almost touching. You inhaled a little faster than normal.

“Can I,” he said already hold his head slightly turned. You leaned up to meet his lips. Dick’s hands went back around to grip your waist. The kiss started out tentative but didn’t take long to deepen. He tasted the same as you remember and his touch was familiar and comforting.

After a little bit of you both laying on your sides, Dick laid back and pulled you on top of him. You straddled his hips and kissed him hard. Dick made a moan against your lips and gripped your thighs. You rubbed down against him. You could feel him grow hard in his thin sleep pants. Dick pulled back to breathe.

“Fuck baby,” he panted. You huffed out a laugh. “What?” He asked and you grinned.

“Still has the same weaknesses, I see,” you whispered and he chuckled before shrugging. You ground down on him and he inhaled quickly.

“Yeah but so do you,” he said before flipping you over and pinning your hands above your head. You gasped into a moan as he nipped at the spot behind your ear. Dick smirked against your skin. “Yep the same spot.”

“Hmmm using it against me,” you asked and he nodded.

“Always take advantage of weaknesses. That how I was taught,” Dick said. He bent and sucked hard on the spot and you pulled at his hands, wanting to put your hands in his hair. Dick kissed down your neck to your collar and nipped at your collarbone. You made a keening sound.

“Not fair Grayson, not fair,” you said breathlessly and he chuckled.

“I could always stop,” Dick said, his breath was hot on your skin. You groaned and he chuckled. Dick slid his hands under your shirt and pulled back to slide it off. His fingers traced a new scar that you had gotten since the last time you had been together.

“Two Face,” you commented and he nodded before kissing the arcing curvature of lighter skin. You pulled at his shirt and he pulled it off too. He had some more scars too. A pair of red healing marks on his forearm that looked like claws you touched with your thumb.

“Killer Croc,” he said before kissing the valley between your breasts. You hummed in agreement before realizing what he said.

“Killer Croc? You got very lucky,” you said and he pulled back a little.

“Yeah. I mean, it got mad infected and I was out for 2 weeks but yeah, he could have ripped my arm off,” Dick said. He ran his hand along the waistband of your sleep shorts. You inhaled quickly.

“You’re too casual for a man that almost died,” you said.

“Yeah, I know,” Dick answered sliding his hand in your shorts to play in your folds. Your eyes closed and you forgot all about scars and Killer Croc as he fingered you.

“Condoms?” You gasped. He grinned as he kissed along the column of your neck.

“One minute,” Dick said getting up. You watched him move around the room. His boner extremely obvious in his sleep pants. He came back with a few attached together.

“3?”

“Let’s start with one and go from there,” he smirked and you laughed. That was Dick for you. Cheeky no matter what. He pushed down his pants and rolled it on as you slid out of your panties and shorts. Dick stared down at your wet pussy. He already knew from fingering you but he certainly wasn’t complaining about the sight.

Dick climbed back over you and kissed you soundly. “Ready?” He asked and you nodded. Dick slowly thrust in and you made a soft sound. He started moving and found a good pace. It was great for missionary but it wasn’t like either of you didn’t have the ability to be a little more flexible in positions.

“I want to try something,” you whispered in his ear and he looked at you with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Go on,” Dick said excitedly. You pushed him off of you and he eagerly complied. You stood up and bent at the waist and wrapped your arms around the back of your knees with your legs closed giving Dick one hell of a show.

“Oh fuck,” he whispered. Dick moved behind you. “Like this?” He asked and you nodded. Dick slowly slid in with his hands on your hips making all kinds of little noises. “You look fucking amazing baby. Truly.”

You let Dick move for a while in this position. He alternated between holding your hips and grabbing your ass to slightly spread it to watch better. It was possible he’d never been that horny in his life. It felt amazing on your part but there was something you wanted to try without telling him.

You slowly moved your hands to the floor and put your weight on one leg. And with a smirk, you lifted one leg up and Dick inhaled deeply as you lifted it up to his shoulder. He held your leg and moaned loudly. His hips stopped and he was panting.

“Fuck, you almost made me cum right then,” he groaned. His hips started moving and all of took was a little shake of your ass for him to cum despite himself. “Fuck,” he groaned while burying himself deep. As soon as he was done, he pulled out and helped you stand up. You noted a little dusting of pink in his cheeks and ears.

“I’ll get you back. Lay down,” he said and you nodded and laid on the bed. It was no time at all that he had his lips wrapped around your clit and fingers in your core as your grabbed his hair in pleasure.

“Fuck! Dick! Fuck!” You cried, completely ignoring the fact that it was 7 am and you were in a hotel. He seemed to be hell bent on making up for the fact that he came first. Your thighs shook and you weren’t even sure but you probably screamed when you came. Dick peppered kisses up your body with a smirk as you heaved in breaths.

“Like that,” he said wryly, pulling you into his arms.

“You already know that,” you answered. He ran a finger along your arm and kissed your hair.

“So this...” he started but trailed off.

“Yeah...”

“Do you wanna... try again? Us?” He asked.

“Maybe,” you said biting your lip.

“Give it a shot?” He asked hopeful. You sat in silence for a second.

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“Yeah?” He said with a smile.

“Yeah,” you answered shyly. He grinned and kissed you again. He rolled on top of you.

“Since I fucked up the first round, I should make it up to you,” he said playfully. You rolled your eyes with a smile.

“If. You. Can,” you whispered in his ear. By the end of the morning, the hotel security had come to knock on your door to quiet down.

#friday night smut #dick Grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dick Grayson smut #batboy smut #batboy x reader

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goodnightmemes · 3 years

Text

DEXTER SEASON TWO SENTENCE STARTERS (PART TWO)

Lines taken from 2x07-2x12 of the show Dexter. Feel free to change pronouns or edit in any way to better fit your needs. Here is part one.

❛ I thrive on chaos. But this is good, too. ❜

❛ I had to do a little creative problem-solving at someone else's expense. ❜

❛ Pardon my tits. ❜

❛ Are you trying to fuck her or set her on fire? ❜

❛ Sometimes the truth speaks from a peaceful place. It's taken me a long time to find that place, but I think I have, and it's telling me you're not the right one for me. I'm so sorry. ❜

❛ Is that what I am? Clean? 'cause I don't feel that way at all. ❜

❛ No, I won't do that. I won't let you turn me into you. ❜

❛ Hope you don't expect me to comment on that so you can record it on your hidden tape recorder. I wasn't born yesterday. ❜

❛ Your past is a bigger mystery than fucking Jimmy Hoffa. ❜

❛ No matter what you try, no matter when, no matter how hard you work, I'll always be a step ahead of you for one simple reason. I own you. ❜

❛ When I'm alone and it's quiet, I get scared shitless, like I start hearing what's really going on inside. ❜

❛ 'Cause when you're around, I kind of feel like I can deal with anything, you know? ❜

❛ I've always worked best in the shadows, and that's where I have to stay. ❜

❛ You can't go back. You know that. ❜

❛ You are not allowed to talk about anyone I date as long as you're seeing little Miss "pardon my tits." ❜

❛ She is obviously a vampire. A gross english-titty vampire. ❜

❛ Can't change who I am. I'm crass and dirty, and...I have a very filthy mind. ❜

❛ Jesus Christ. They sell anyone a gun in Florida, won't they? ❜

❛ That man. He wasn't trying to rob you. He was trying to kill you. ❜

❛ Nothing you could do,___, would scare me. ❜

❛ Whatever comes, we'll get through this together. I'm not leaving your side. ❜

❛ I need to embrace who I am, who I've always been. ❜

❛ It's like I've been living underwater, holding my breath, and now I can finally breathe. ❜

❛ ___ almost had me believing it was possible to change, to become something else, as if that ever really happens. I've always known what I am. ❜

❛ I'm finding it's best to accept things you can't change, you know? ❜

❛ Is this the monster that you keep telling me about? ❜

❛ Trust me, when you meet the monster, you'll know. ❜

❛ Nice. My subconscious isn't even bothering with symbolism. ❜

❛ I feel...such regret, which is rare for me. But not that I don't mess up. I do...just never so stupendously. ❜

❛ If they're looking for proof, they won't find it. Not here at least. ❜

❛ Then maybe you should come with us, because who knows what secrets will come ❜ pouring out of me once the drinks start flowing. ❜

❛ I'm done with it and you. Did I not make that clear last night? ❜

❛ Those friends of yours, they didn't even know you. They just see the mask, but I see it all. ❜

❛ Can't live with her. Can't kill her. ❜

❛ Fuck! I'm talking about my feelings. What the fuck is your problem? ❜

❛ I've always sensed there was something... off about him. Like he's hiding in plain sight. ❜

❛ If you got in the middle of this and you got hurt… ❜

❛ The only way I can help you is if you turn yourself in. ❜

❛ Don't you disappear on me. ❜

❛ I want you to know that you meant a lot to me, more than you know, and... I just want to thank you for that. ❜

❛ If I never see her again, it'll be too soon. ❜

❛ Sleep would be nice, but there's too much to do. ❜

❛ Okay, I may be sleeping with him, but it doesn't mean he tells me shit or listens to me about anything, so stop asking! ❜

❛ That's right, motherfucker! It's over. ❜

❛ I knew there was something with you. But this shit? ❜

❛ What can I say? You were right about me. I never held it against you. I don't now. ❜

❛ It's a graze wound. Minor tissue abrasion. No hemorrhage along the bullet track. Sorry. I think I'm gonna live. ❜

❛ If you're not gonna let me go, then kill me now. Just get it over with. ❜

❛ You're a killer. I catch killers. ❜

❛ So it's okay to take a life as long as you get a paycheck for it? ❜

❛ Either kill me or set me free. ❜

❛ Taking a life is one thing, but the care and feeding of it is another. ❜

❛ I'm generally confused most of the time. ❜

❛ You ever care about anyone? Then you shouldn't have to ask. 'Cause when you care about someone, you do what you have to do. ❜

❛ I remember when life was easy, when the only question I worried about was "who's next?" Now it's: "How can I dodge my protective detail? "What should I do with my hostage?" These are not easy questions. ❜

❛ It's not about what I think. It's all about the evidence. ❜

❛ Hair-pulling may not be manly, but it's very effective. ❜

❛ If he wanted me dead, I'd be dead by now. ❜

❛ You are the only one I can count on, jackass. ❜

❛ It puts a pit in my stomach that I can only interpret as... sadness. ❜

❛ You working on an exit strategy? I'm afraid that's not gonna happen. ❜

❛ How come there's never a circus when you need one? ❜

❛ What was that shit last night? Some kind of fucking scare tactic? ❜

❛ Don't test me. I could have killed you. I didn't. ❜

❛ You're actually angry. I've never seen you angry. This is good. ❜

❛ I should warn you. You can't play on my feelings. I don't have any. ❜

❛ It's a tough job. It can wear on even the best of us. ❜

❛ I yell a lot...and bitch and complain, and I keep expecting people to guess what I want, but I never really say it. ❜

❛ And that was exciting, you know? The not knowing. What might happen, what could be. It was all possibility. ❜

❛ Your life is going to rest in the hands of the criminal justice system you put all your faith in. I wish you the best of luck. ❜

❛ You need help. Let me help you. ❜

❛ You don't have to do this! You don't have to kill this man! ❜

❛ Sorry it had to go down like this. But there really was no other way. ❜

❛ Stay away. Just stay away from me. ❜

❛ Did you happen to be stuffing a human leg into a garbage bag at that point? ❜

❛ There's that anger again. You got to let that out. ❜

❛ You're spinning. Let me help you. It's only a matter of time before you'll hurt someone else. ❜

❛ Take responsibility for who you are. ❜

❛ Why can't you just let me go? ❜

❛ If I got to choose a person... A real person... to be like, out of anyone, it'd be you. ❜

❛ Who joined who in the shower this morning? ❜

❛ For such a neat monster, I'm making an awfully big mess. ❜

❛ Maybe this is how evil works. Destroying everything it touches. ❜

❛ I've been held prisoner in a cabin for two fucking days. Fucking hellhole. ❜

❛ After everything we've been through lately, I just want... to be together with you guys. ❜

❛ You told me to take responsibility for what I am. You were right. ❜

❛ I can't live in this house of cards anymore, waiting for it all to fall down. I need to do something, you know? ❜

❛ If I do this, I need a day to get my affairs in order. ❜

❛ Mention that when they interview you for the story of my life. ❜

❛ Don't leave me in this cage, anything could happen. ❜

❛ I lie to everyone I know... except my victims right before I kill them. It's hard to establish much of a rapport there. ❜

❛ Sorry about the cage. ❜

❛ I've always been curious to try. Do you have any weed? ❜

❛ Love's a battlefield. Or in your case, a restraining order. ❜

❛ When a pretty girl smiles and bats her eyelashes, we're powerless to resist. ❜

❛ I met with a lawyer yesterday. He helped me prepare a living trust that gives you control of all my assets in the event of my death or... certain other situations. ❜

❛ God. Go away. This is creepy. ❜

❛ I'm free tonight, you wanna stop by? We'll have beer, a couple of steaks? I wanna talk to you about something. ❜

❛ I just need you to know that... you and the kids are very important to me. No matter what happens, I want you to always know that. ❜

❛ I know I've been taking things slow with us, but it's not because I don't have feelings for you. It's more like I have too many feelings, and I just wanna make sure to get it right. ❜

❛ I want you gone. Tonight. ❜

❛ I've spent a lifetime keeping up my guard, watching my back, wearing my mask. Relief was never in sight until now. ❜

❛ Lately, I was starting to feel like I had my head pretty far up my ass. ❜

❛ You decide who you are, who you want to be...and you hold onto that and ride it out. ❜

❛ I need some help! Just open the door! I'm being held captive. ❜

❛ Damn, it's good to see another face. I never thought I would. ❜

❛ When something beyond reason happens, it turns skeptics into believers. ❜

❛ If you believe that God makes miracles, you have to wonder if Satan has a few up his sleeve. ❜

❛ I can't exactly feel their pain, but I can appreciate it. ❜

❛ I kinda forgot who I was. I got it straight now. ❜

❛ The term is homicidal maniac. Not that I'm judging. ❜

❛ A public place. You thought I was gonna...That I would slip my needle into your neck? ❜

❛ You're afraid of me now, aren't you? ❜

❛ You're emotionally color-blind. You use the right words, you pantomime the right behavior, but feelings never come to pass. ❜

❛ You know the dictionary definition of emotions: longing, joy, sorrow...You have no idea of what any of those things actually feel like. ❜

❛ I created a monster of my own. ❜

❛ What did you do to make her so pathetically crazy for you? Does your dick dance? ❜

❛ What're we doing home in the middle of the day? She asked, hoping for sex. ❜

❛ Why? Why do I have to make up my mind? ❜

❛ I've never put much weight onto the idea of a higher power. But if I didn't know better, I'd have to believe that some force out there wants me to keep doing what I'm doing. ❜

❛ As it turns out, nobody mourns the wicked. ❜

❛ Am I evil? Am I good? I'm done asking those questions. I don't have the answers. ❜

#sentence starters #sentence meme #rp meme #inbox meme #ask meme #rp memes #*tv #*dexter #*mine

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extasiswings · 3 years

Text

Get in, clowns. We’re going to the circus. On ao3.

Eddie’s palms are sweaty.

It’s warm outside, the sun beating down on the park bench where he’s sitting, but it’s the nerves that have his hands clammy as he turns his water bottle over between them.

When Buck had walked in the house earlier, he’d taken one look at Eddie and rolled his eyes before shoving him back into his bedroom.

“You can’t wear that,” Buck said, rifling through Eddie’s dresser. He emerged with Eddie’s tightest pair of jeans and shoved them at his chest before turning to the drawers with shirts.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Eddie asked, baffled as he looked down at himself and then, skeptically, at the jeans.

“You look like a dad.” Buck’s voice went muffled for a moment before he made a noise of victory and pulled out a deep red, long-sleeved shirt that Eddie’s pretty sure is at least a size too small.

“Kind of hard not to. Since I am one and all. That’s not exactly a secret.”

“Yeah, but you can look like a hot dad who is making an effort instead of a regular dad going to the grocery store or something. You’ll thank me later.”

After Eddie had changed and walked out of the bathroom, Buck’s face shifted—Eddie could have sworn his eyes darkened, that his voice was rougher as he pronounced Eddie much better.

So Eddie knows he looks good.

But his palms are still sweaty. He uncaps the water bottle and takes a sip more to have something to do than because he needs it. And then he starts drumming his fingers against his thigh, needing something to occupy them, some way to move.

He’s tempted to pull out his phone, to reread the latest texts from Bobby or even the shameless teasing in the group text that Buck started with his sisters—and boy, was that a mistake, putting the three of them in touch, because Eddie never in a million years would have told them he was going on a date if he hadn’t done it by accident because Buck’s direct messages happened to be right below the group—

He’s still not sure he should be, is the thing. Dating. He still feels like he can’t quite breathe right when he thinks too hard about it. Can still play that last dinner with Shannon over on loop, from her asking for a divorce to the implication that really being with him again would be so terrible she would have to run for the hills and leave their child behind.

He didn’t exactly have great self-esteem to begin with.

Eddie wipes his palms on his jeans—he’s in the middle of debating whether it’s bad parenting to make up an emergency involving your kid to get out of a date, when—

“Eddie! Hi,” Ana greets, walking up the path.

The anxiety in his chest twists tighter as he gets up from the bench and waves.

“Hey. You, uh—you look really nice,” he says, because it’s true and also the easiest thing he can remember from the last time he did this.

Ana smiles. “So do you.”

There’s a pause that lingers a little too long and then they both start trying to speak at once, cutting off abruptly when they realize. Eddie rubs self-consciously at the back of his neck.

“Should we walk?” Ana offers, nodding down the path where it leads into the trees.

“Sure, yeah,” Eddie agrees.

It’s actually not...bad. She asks him about work and that’s a safe enough topic that he’s comfortable spending a few minutes telling her stories from the station. She shares a little about the challenges of virtual teaching. And then she asks about Chris, and, well, that’s an easy subject—Eddie could talk about Chris all day.

He just finishes the story about the actual building of Christopher’s skateboard—which involved no small amount of comical trial and error on the part of two decidedly not Chris-sized grown men—when Ana gets a thoughtful look on her face and glances sideways at him.

“Can I ask you something personal?” She asks.

Eddie rocks back on his heels and hooks his thumbs in his pockets. “Sure.”

“How long has it been for you?”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Since...the last time I dated?”

Ana nods.

“Well…” He wets his lips to stall. “The last person I dated was my wife. And I’m not sure it was really dating in the same way after we were married so...I guess...eleven years give or take?”

He laughs and he can hear the edge of self-deprecation. “That obvious I’m out of practice?”

“No,” Ana says. “No, that wasn’t—it’s really not actually. Although it does explain some things.”

“Things?”

She bites her lip. “Nothing bad,” she insists. “Just—”

“Have you ever been on a date where the other person talked about their ex the whole time and it was kind of obvious they still had feelings for them and you couldn’t help wondering why they weren’t with the ex when they clearly wanted to be?” She asks.

Eddie blinks, scrolling back through their conversation trying to think—he’s pretty sure he hasn’t mentioned Shannon except for the once. And he’s not still—

“In high school, maybe?” He answers. “But I’m not sure—”

“I was trying to figure out if you and Buck ever dated,” she clarifies, and Eddie stops in his tracks, his mind shorting out as he takes that in.

“I—what?”

They’re back at the parking lot anyway, and although they could take another loop around the park, Ana stops by the closest bench and smiles as she leans against it.

“Look, I like you, Eddie,” she says. “And if I’m totally off base and you want to see me again, I will definitely pick up the phone. But if I’m not? I couldn’t not say something.”

“Buck’s my best friend,” Eddie replies. His head is swimming but it surprisingly doesn’t feel bad. More like he’s been handed the clue card for a puzzle he was trying to solve and while the pieces haven’t quite come together fully, they’re getting there.

“You talk about him like he’s your partner. Like the three of you are a family. And when you talk about him you look like…” Ana shakes her head and laughs, but it’s not unkind. Just soft and maybe a little longing. “I would love for someone to look like that when they’re talking about me. Thinking about me. So, I thought you should know. Just in case you didn’t.”

Another puzzle piece falls into place and Eddie sucks in a breath.

“I do like you,” he says.

“Yeah...but you’re in love with him. Right?” Eddie’s quiet and Ana nods.

“I’m gonna go,” she decides. “This was nice, for the record. Maybe we can do it again. As friends next time.”

“Ana—” Eddie calls after her. When she looks back over her shoulder though, he’s not sure what to say except, “...thank you.”

“Let me know how it works out?” She asks. “I’m a little invested now.”

Eddie laughs and runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah...sure.”

He drives home in a daze, so much of the past two years—maybe even longer—suddenly thrown into new light. Everything he’s been afraid of, everything that’s been holding him back—all of the baggage and insecurities that Shannon left behind, that have made him feel like he’s not good enough, like he can’t be a partner to anyone—

He never stopped and looked too hard at what he already had. What he was already doing.

What he has. What he is doing.

With Buck.

In the stark glare of hindsight, it’s easy to see—he was still married when they met, was worn down and bruised and not looking for anything. He needed a friend and Buck slipped in to fill that void and Eddie...put him in a box. Put them in a box. Carefully compartmentalizing every aspect of his life because it was easier that way, because it allowed him to sort through the tangled knots of expectation from any number of other sides, any number of other identities—husband, father, son.

There was no baggage attached to friend. No forgive and forget and take your wife back because kids need their mothers or you’ll drag him down with you or I wasn’t enough.

There was just...Buck. Present. Supportive. Caring about him. Believing in him. The real him—masks off, walls down, warts and all.

The longer Eddie thinks, the clearer things become. His mind flips through memories like a scrapbook—panic attacks and phone calls at two in the morning, nights on the couch playing video games with Christopher and the slower, lingering moments with just the two of them after they put him to bed, all those months sharing a bed in Buck’s apartment while he despaired over being away from his son and Buck reminded him he was a good dad—

How many of those nights had Eddie wanted to kiss him? How many times had he felt that buzz under his skin, the whisper of it would be so easy, only to shove it down because it was too dangerous to deal with.

And when he thinks now about the future, about having someone in his home, in his bed, in his life, when he pictures it, all he can see is Buck.

It feels right.

“I love him,” Eddie says out loud, tasting the words on his tongue, letting them linger.

I love him.

His pulse spikes with his anxiety, but it calms down as he sits with it. Because he knows Buck’s not going to leave. He trusts that. Buck’s seen him at his worst and none of that has ever driven him away. So maybe…

Eddie’s mind flicks back to earlier in the day, to the dark heat in Buck’s gaze as it dragged over him before he looked away.

...yeah. They’ll be okay.

He’s home before he even really registers and takes a few slow breaths before he shuts off the truck and gets out. When he steps through the door, it’s a strange feeling. The space is familiar but not. More...settled somehow. Home.

Home.

Eddie closes the door behind him and follows the sound of running water to the kitchen. He stops in the doorway, leaning against the frame, and spends a moment just watching Buck scrub potatoes in the sink until the other man glances up and notices him.

“Hey,” Buck greets. “Chris is reading in his room, I’m just working on dinner. How was the date?”

God, I love you, Eddie thinks, and nearly has to bite his tongue to keep it to himself.

Yeah. It’s right.

He shrugs. “It was fine. Ana’s nice.”

“When’s the next date then?” There’s an odd note in Buck’s voice that makes Eddie push off the frame and step closer.

“There’s not going to be one,” he replies. “Ana’s nice...but I don’t want to date her.”

Buck stops. Shuts off the water and turns, leaning back against the sink.

“No?” Buck’s brow furrows. “It’s not—do you still feel like you’re not ready?”

“No, it’s not that,” Eddie replies. “I do think I’m ready. But with the right person.”

His heart is pounding in his chest, but it’s not fear. More...anticipation.

He swallows hard.

“Ana said something that made me realize that...I don’t want to start from scratch with some stranger.”

Eddie takes another step closer and Buck inhales sharply, emotions shifting across his face too quickly for Eddie to name them all.

“Eddie…” Buck sounds hoarse, a little disbelieving. He leans forward for a moment before shaking his head, clearing his throat.

“I can’t—I need you to be specific,” he says. “Because I can’t make assumptions here, I can’t—”

Eddie kisses him. Steps in far enough that Buck’s body presses flush against his, slides his hand around the back of Buck’s neck, and kisses him. Buck makes a small noise and grips him right back, his hands curving around Eddie’s hips nearly tight enough to bruise in sharp contrast to the way Eddie’s mouth feathers against his, soft as anything.

“Specific enough?” Eddie breathes, staying close enough that their lips brush again. Buck surges up and uses his grip on Eddie’s hips to turn them, pinning Eddie against the counter as he kisses him again in response. Once, twice, three times, and Eddie shivers.

He hasn’t been kissed in so long, hasn’t been touched with intention like this—he’d forgotten what it felt like. His body floods with heat as Buck’s hands slip under his shirt, spreading wide over his rib cage, and he parts his lips eagerly for Buck’s tongue.

Down the hall, a door closes, and Buck jumps back, Eddie slumping against the counter to keep himself upright. Buck is flushed and panting and Eddie’s pretty sure he can’t look much better, too warm and electric, wanting, wanting, wanting—

Both of them catch their breath and watch the door, but Christopher doesn’t appear. After a minute Eddie catches the faint sound of a toilet flushing and he looks back at Buck.

And he laughs. It bubbles up from his chest like champagne fizz, bright and warm and right, and apparently it’s contagious because Buck starts up as well, stepping in again and sliding his arms around Eddie’s waist, ducking his head to laugh breathlessly against Eddie’s neck.

When they calm down, Buck stays close, his lips feathering over Eddie’s pulse. Eddie hums and closes his eyes as he tips his head back to give Buck better access.

“I’m in love with you,” he says. “In case that wasn’t clear.”

Buck’s lips curve up against Eddie’s skin.

“Well that’s convenient,” he replies. “Since Chris was asking me earlier why you couldn’t just date me if you were going to date again.”

Eddie’s startled into another laugh. “Really?”

“Really.”

Eddie grins and opens his eyes again. “Hey Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“Go out with me?”

Buck snorts and pushes him out of the way so he can go back to the potatoes.

“Help me finish getting dinner together and we’ll see.” But the second Eddie turns away, Buck snags him by a belt loop and reels him back in for another kiss.

“Yes,” Buck says. “Yes.”

And it’s right.

#chapel writes #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie fic #911 fic

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anika-ann · 3 years

Text

My Timid Hello, My Clumsy Goodbye (S.R.)

Type: one-shot, canon semi-compliant?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Barton!reader Word count: 8900 (...sorry)

Summary: You’re spending the evening and the night before your wedding with the two most important men of your life.

When the sun rises again, you’ll say your ‘I do’ in a close circle of friends and family. It’s not a goodbye to your old life and it’s not a hello to some enormous change; but you will no longer be a Barton. You will be a Rogers. Why not reminisce a bit?

Warnings: mention of an abandoned baby, blood and injuries, alcohol, implied possibly rougher sex (nothing graphic) ...mature?, language, so much sappiness... let me know if I missed any

A/N: For what-is-your-backupplan-today 10th anniversary of CA:TFA challenge. Prompts in bold. Thank you for coming up with this wonderful theme and hosting this challenge! Long live CA:TFA!

A/N: Throughout the fic, you’ll find snippets of lyrics from SYML’s "Everything All At Once”. Honestly, the song has a completely different meaning to me, but tearing it out of context works for this story just fine :) When you’re done reading, I recommend the music video. It friggin’ broke me in the worst and best ways. Enjoy!

This is my hello This is my clumsy goodbye I'm putting my glass down I wanna remember tonight

Tony rented an island for you. Clint nearly passed out learning about it and grumbled for days about having a hard time to top that, which, no arguing, was understandable.

It was an incredibly extravagant thing to do, throwing around money that could have been used for a much more honourable cause, but you couldn’t complain. One should not look a gifted horse into mouth – and so you didn’t.

Because Tony Stark renting an island was his premature wedding gift. The fact that your brother bitched about not being able to top that, well, that was his problem. You were certain that deep down, he knew you didn’t need any fancy gifts like that.

Then again, Tony’s gift might have been epically overpriced, but not exactly unthoughtful; along with a private island came a private jet and you being literally flied under radar so no single paparazzi knew where you and America’s golden boy Steve Rogers would seal the deal with your ‘I do.’ So, you were everything but ungrateful to your friend that he succeeded at pulling off such covert operation; and frankly, this place was nothing short of wonderful.

The golden sand was pleasantly warm under your toes as you as you and Clint walked towards the two single beach chairs facing the ocean. Wearing bikini under the baggy t-shirt and a pair of shorts, sunglasses on top of your head, because why would you deprive yourself the gorgeous view of the sun beginning to set down, you followed your brother – not in blood but in every other sense – to the seats, allured by the view, the serenity and the cold sixpack in his hand.

You had already had a traditional bachelorette party with your girls – with the team, with your family. Natasha, Wanda, Pepper, Sharon and Maria. The night had been the perfect blend of what was considered typically feminine, dress up, fanciness and wine and gossip, and a fun night out with shots, dancing, karaoke and pool. That particular night sadly was interrupted shortly by an annoying photographer, but he soon understood it was not very clever to annoy three and a half Avengers or the CEO of Stark Industries for that matter.

Clint however… Clint deserved a special evening with you. With the rest of the team in various state of chilling out, scattered around the luxurious small houses and gorgeous beaches, you two were left the privacy such moment required.

Even if the special moment consisted of simple talking and drinking beer while watching the sun set, a symbolic end of one phase of your life – a phase that was undeniably tied to the famous and yet barely known archer, one of the seven defenders who rushed into the Battle of New York to save the Earth.

One of the seven had been your brother, having previously been controlled by the monster who brought an army from outer space; there was no questioning whether you would join the fight or not, no matter how you preferred the latter part of your field medic job title to the former.

Another of these brave people, as it turned out, was your future husband. A man you had met for the first time that day, but whom you didn’t hesitate to push back down when he got hit by a freaking alien weapon and stood up, wanting to shake it off as if it was nothing. Your medical training told you not to let him; and your stubbornness had been just a touch stronger than his that day.

Apparently, Steve found you always standing your ground to be one of your most endearing qualities.

What a fancy way to express it instead of simply calling you a stubborn pain in his ass.

“You’re lost in your head, Twinkie,” Clint hummed, playfully nudging your ribs with an elbow, bringing you back to the present.

Your nose automatically scrunched at the childhood nickname.

“You gotta stop calling me that, Bobo,” you retorted, a grin spreading on your face as it was his turn to grimace.

You knew it was nothing but an act and that he in fact loved that nickname, because it held so much sentiment, so many memories… as did his endearment for you.

Bobo had been your first word or so Clint always claimed. Obviously, you wouldn’t remember.

You wouldn’t remember your parents, having been only two days old when your mother left you with a damn circus which was in your hometown at the time. You couldn’t recall how you wouldn’t stop crying until you heard a seven-year-old Clint humming a lullaby for you, with silly replacements of lyrics that always made you laugh later on when you could understand them.

How he started calling you Twinkie, because he was a sugar addict and apparently, you were sweet and small and he liked you; so much that he soon appointed himself to be your brother, your bro, your Bobo.

Once you were older and learned that your involuntary nickname for him also meant ‘crazy’ in Spanish, you were sold to that Bobo endearment forever.

Including the night before your wedding.

“You keep zoning out on me, Kid. Getting cold feet?” Clint hummed, casually handing you a can of beer, opening it up for you.

You automatically reached out and took a sip, eyes fixed on the warm colour on the horizon. What a ridiculous question… but kind and caring, with a hidden promise of getting you out of here if you just asked. Your amazing, protective, crazy brother.

You couldn’t but smile widely, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

“You offering to kidnap the bride, Clint? I’d like to see you try. You were always better at trapeze than at being an escape artist.”

Clint scoffed. “Please. These are amateurs. I bet I could pull it off.”

That drew a laugh from you.

“Are you calling the Avengers amateurs? Better yet, are you calling your wife an amateur?” you teased him, watching his face lose colour when he realized that he did exactly that. You leaned over and patted his thigh. “Don’t worry, Bobo. I won’t tell Nat.”

Clint visibly relaxed, but a shadow of worry twisting his expression.

“Seriously though. Where’s your head at, Kid?”

You just shrugged, smile resting on your lips as you wondered if you ever felt so relaxed. It went along well with the reminiscing of the past and despite the fact that tomorrow was a big day and you should probably be nervous, you weren’t. Not in the slightest, more like the opposite. You were giddy even; it dawned to you that nothing in your life had ever felt so right.

No moment in your life offered you such serenity to your heart, your shoulders free of any weight, body light as air.

“Just taking a trip down the memory lane. Thinking about how lucky I was to be dropped at your circus of all circuses of the world,” you grinned at Clint, your tone remaining completely serious.

Because you were being serious – words couldn’t express how grateful for everything that led to this moment you were. How grateful you were to your brother for watching over you, making sure you would always see the light of a new day, guiding you when you found yourself in a dark.

Clint didn’t react beside his fingers twitching and you knew he was giving you the chance to say what you needed to say.

“About how you taught me pretty much everything I know. About how while I might not be the best person in the world, my brother, who is the best brother ever, made me into a decent person and I owe him everything I am. And how I should probably feel guilty for tying myself to another guy who just swept in and whisked away your little sister.”

Clint stared at you, gulping as his eyes gradually filled with tears. You found yourself in a very cheesy moment, bordering on absurd and it was almost too much to handle – but Clint took a deep breath, cleared his throat and swallowed his tears.

“Well, that bastard did steal my greatest life achievement with way too little effort,” he remarked, voice cracking slightly, the image of him causing your eyes to burn as well even if his words made you both tear up and burst out laughing.

“Dammit, Clint, stop making me laugh and cry at the same time…”

“You started it!” he pointed his index finger at you accusingly, taking a large sip of his beer to drown his sentiment. “But for the record, you should not feel guilty. It’s not like you’re leaving me.”

“I know, but-“

“And if you were, you’d be leaving me in good hands.”

“That’s true, Natasha does have a grip on you and might keep you outta trouble-“

“She’s the one who gets me into trouble half of the time!” Clint cried out in protest and you would have argued if it wasn’t the truth.

But before he had met her, Clint was able to make up his own trouble just fine – he was more than half of a reason why while doing a bit of trapeze yourself, you also grew interested in medical care. Because who else than the little sister should treat her big brother’s wounds when he got too crazy?

“In all seriousness, I’m proud of you, Twinkie,” he said sincerely, one corner of his lips raised in a lopsided smile. “You’re entirely entitled to have your own life and if there’s one guy in this whole damn world I’m willing to trust to have you… well, I guess it’s that big blond dumbass.”

“He can be a bit dumb of ass occasionally, can’t he?” you mused lovingly. “I guess it’s right what they say… we do pick our partners similar to our parents, maybe not only in looks. I didn’t really have a dad, I had you, so…”

Clint sighed, smile widening, before it slipped from his face as he caught up on the not-so-hidden insult.

“Hey!”

You couldn’t but laugh at his shocked expression, accidently spilling a splosh of beer on the sand.

“Just… maybe make sure that even married, you still find time to hang out with your big dumb of ass brother every once in a while?” Clint suggested, sounding surprisingly vulnerable.

Your whole demander softened, a little pang of guilt stinging in your heart as he took your words too seriously – and at his worry.

“Clint… I will always find time for my amazing brother.”

“Well, you’re marrying a pretty amazing guy too, so, you know, I understand the dilemma…”

You snorted when he seemed to genuinely fawn over your future husband, shaking your head before downing the rest of your drink.

“As amazing as Steve might be – and gosh, he is, don’t get me started – you still own a pretty big chunk of my heart.”

“Good. You are a Barton at heart,” Clint hummed, pretending that a few tears didn’t roll down his cheeks, leaning towards you as his expression once again grew serious.

Your chest tightened. Oh no. He was gonna say something to make you cry too – as if you already weren’t at verge of crying, emotions bubbling under the surface.

“Clint-“ you warned him silently, but he spoke up anyway and you gulped, bracing yourself.

“Just… whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing. That you will stay who you are. Not a perfect housewife, but a good woman.”

That was not what you were prepared for, as touching as the sentiment was.

You burst out laughing, head thrown back, hands clutching at your stomach as it actually hurt with the sudden clench. Tears did spring from your eyes, a perfect blend of touched and infinitely amused at your brother’s words.

“Har, har, that’s what I get from trying to speak from heart…” Clint muttered grumpily and you willed yourself to calm your hitching breaths as you looked at him, the pout of his mouth causing you to cackle again.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just… I am moved, I really am. Thank you. But me? A perfect housewife? And you realize I’m marrying Steve Rogers, right? The epitome of a good man? He would probably threaten to sock me in a jaw if I tried to change into something I’m not just for his sake and actually sock me in my jaw if I turned into a bad woman.”

Clint’s eyebrows jumped, a smirk appearing on his face. “That’s a lot of punching.”

“My thoughts exactly,” you agreed, reaching for another can, pausing when a thought occurred to you. “Just so we’re clear, I might turn into a bit of a housewife when we have kids, alright? And I want to be a good wife, a good partner to Steve, which is what I’m trying to do even now.”

“I mean, yeah, sure, wouldn’t expect anything less. But… just promise me you’ll stay you and that you’ll keep giving him a run for his money, keep him on his toes a bit,” Clint shrugged with a grin, drawing another chuckle from you.

You saw his point – and you fully intended to keep Steve on his toes. You had a good reason to believe that your future husband enjoyed when you did.

“Oh Clinton… I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He nodded contentedly, picking up another beer and raising it for a toast, his can clinking with yours.

“Cheers to that!”

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you then, a quiet joy wrapped in one moment; the sun ending its quest, the warm breeze in your hair, the waves whispering of a journey you were about to take off to. And all that with a wordless comforting presence of your family, ready to offer you a shelter if a storm rocked your boat and the wind caused you to lose course.

As your mind wandered, you had to laugh at yourself – it was almost as if you were raised by pirates and not circus performers. Perhaps it was the little bit of free cheeky spirit these life journeys had in common what brought the metaphor to your mind. It was a bit like working with the Avengers too, always on a road, adrenaline in your veins even as you mostly stayed on the jet, ready to assist them… yet here you were pondering that maybe, you were yearning for settling down a bit more.

“Cap wouldn’t punch you anyway, right?” Clint remarked, breaking the silence and you blinked yourself back into reality, taking a moment to figure out what he was talking about.

Oh. Right. Steve punching you if you changed yourself significantly for his benefit.

You smiled softly, heart swelling in affection when the answer to that question appeared obvious.

“No, he wouldn’t.”

“Good. He’d try once and I’d put an arrow straight between his eyes,” Clint promised darkly, almost causing you to choke at the sudden violent note. He quickly fixed it with a ramble, lightening the atmosphere yet again. “Minus training of course. He’s allowed to try in order to improve your hand-to-hand. Not that he would ever land a hand on you anyway. Always so soft on you…” he grinned, seemingly alright with that attitude if not slightly calling the big strong supersoldier out.

Oh you could be cheeky too alright if that was what your brother wanted.

“That you know of.”

A confused huh was the only reaction you got – that and a puzzled look.

“He’s always soft on me,” you repeated Clint’s words, turning to him, lips slowly spreading in a wicked smirk. “That you know of.”

Clint’s brows furrowed for a short moment and then his features twisted in a disgusted grimace, face growing a tint crimson.

“Gross!” he complained, more blood rushing to his cheeks. “You know what, I changed my mind. We’re leaving. You’re not marrying him. I’m kidnapping the bride and never returning her, locking her somewhere far far away-“

You snorted at his indignation, your grin undoubtedly battling the one of the Cheshire cat.

“No will do, Bobo. I’m marrying Steve and you can’t stop me.”

This time, Clint didn’t even protest, eyes misted over, nose still scrunched at the mental image, lamenting as the night slowly settled over the paradise-like island.

“Oh god, please help, I can’t unsee it, can’t unhear it--- ew-”

Your laughter was carried away by the breeze as Clint seemed to be unable to look at you.

You swung your beer around, thinking that yes – nothing quite ever felt so right as being here in this moment. Relaxing with your brother, teasing him relentlessly and counting down hours to when you’d say ‘I do’ to the only man who in your eyes ever battled the mantle of the best man in the universe.

In one unending moment You fall within my reach I'm close enough to whisper Hold on to me Hold on to me

You weren’t sure what time it was when you snuck into the beach house, one of few, which had been wisely chosen to be occupied by you and Steve only. You attempted to be quiet and liked to think you succeeded, in your even barely tipsy state, but your effort turned out to be in vain as you found Steve perched against headboard of your bed; reading a book, thin white t-shirt and sleep shorts on display as the soft sheet had been kicked away, scrunched up by his feet.

He was gorgeous – he was gorgeous and yours, a momentary picture perfect of peace, appearing to feel just as light as you did and somehow the dullness of the moment, just him relaxing in bed with a good read as you came home… it was more alluring than one would think.

Steve looked up from the book when you wavered in the doorway, soft lopsided smile spreading on his face.

God, that smile. It might be over two years since you saw it for the first time, but it could still make you weak in your knees.

And somehow, it was now even more charming now than the day you met, more tender than just before you kissed for the first time, sweeter than when he proposed.

“Hey sweetheart,” he greeted you, appreciative gaze roaming your figure and the little too much skin on display – something you regretted when the warm sunrays had bid you goodbye, raising goosebumps. And Steve, the attentive man he was, noticed, his smile earning a teasing edge. “You look a bit cold in there.”

You resisted the urge to stick your tongue out.

“And you look pretty cosy in there. Thought you’d be either asleep or with Bucky.”

Steve shrugged, not letting go of his unfinished chapter just yet, knowing you had a routine to go through before joining him.

“Maybe I missed you. Maybe Bucky is an old man and needs his sleep.”

You chuckled, not rising to the bait – you knew what would follow if you dared to say Steve was just as old. Not that you would complain about Steve trying to convince you about the opposite. You could never.

“Well, I bet he still made you a promise of breaking a bone of mine or two if I ever hurt you. He’ll find energy for that, centenarian or not,” you hummed nonchalantly as you bounced off the doorframe, heading to the bathroom and leaving Steve puzzled by your remark.

“How did you know?” he called out after you, endearingly confused.

“That’s what big brothers do, love!”

Short silence was your answer as you reached for your toothbrush and begun your nighty ritual.

Steve must have figure out what did it mean for him, considering you had a protective brother of your own, because a moment later, his half-amused “noted!” reached your ears.

You chuckled and shook your head, smile spread on your face which you didn’t think could be erased as long as you were in this paradise – free of worry, full of joy. And why wouldn’t you be? You were about to marry one of the smartest, kindest, sassiest and most beautiful men that ever walked the Earth. What was not to love?

You couldn’t but let your mind wander again; if you had only known the day you met, right from that moment, that you’d end up here…. well. It felt a little surreal, knowing that by this time tomorrow, you’d be Steve’s wife; then again, Steve’s life story was surreal enough on its own.

Who would have thought that the stubborn handsome man in the ridiculous suit and you, equally stubborn about you at least checking on the wound upon half-dragging him to a quiet corner in a middle of a battlefield, would grow so close?

It hadn’t been simple. Steve wasn’t the most open guy and while friendly enough, he wasn’t exactly offering his heart on his sleeve, not to strangers. But it hadn’t been too hard, once you were meeting on regular basis. Piece by piece he revealed his true colours and soon after he did… you started falling; hard and fast.

Not necessarily swooning, not on the outside at least; you were a professional, after all. The safety and the well-being of the team was your priority.

It was just too bad – or the best thing, you supposed – that Steve had the same goal as you with one significant difference; as far as he was concerned, the responsibility to look after his team sometimes excluded him.

Oh, was he wrong about that.

And boy, did you let him know you thought so. You still kept proving him wrong to this day and was planning on nurturing his own acknowledgement of his self-worth till your last breath…

“Get your ass in here, Steve!” you called out after him, slowly losing patience as you had tried asking politely the previous two times with no result but being dismissed.

The change of tone and language made his head snap to you from where he was talking to Sam, an offended scowl on his face.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Captain. Don’t be a stubborn jerk and get your ass in here so I can clean your cuts.”

A few months ago, you wouldn’t have been able to talk to him like that; to the great legend, Captain America. At least you certainly wouldn’t have called him his first name and maybe, just maybe, you’d be a little less crass. But now? He might be Captain America still, a hero who deserved all the good things for the sacrifices he made for the world’s safety, but first and foremost, he was just Steve to you.

A colleague, a teammate, a friend. You might not be a part of the team per se, not the way Clint, Natasha or Steve were, but you still belonged. And you were all friends.

Friends irritated each other sometimes and frankly, Steve was often battling with Tony for the mantle of the most infuriating one.

Friends also needed to call each other out on their bullshit by any means necessary when the time was right and now the time was as good as any.

Usually, Steve slipped through your fingers, because he was a supersoldier and the others weren’t, so their injuries took precedence; today, it was only Natasha, Sam and Steve, and the captain was the only one whom you hadn’t checked yet. And you knew there were things to check, the trickle of blood from his eyebrow probably the least of your concerns.

“I wouldn’t argue with her, Steve. She can be pretty stubborn. Clint wouldn’t stop complaining about it,” Natasha supported you from the pilot seat and you fought yourself so you wouldn’t grin at her in victory – it would only irritated Steve further. “She’s almost as bull-headed as you are.”

At that, your smile would have slipped. But honestly, she wasn’t wrong.

“Don’t I know it,” Steve grunted, sparing Sam another glance and when the Falcon himself beckoned to you as well, wordlessly asking Steve to get himself checked up.

The captain sighed irately, but made his way back to the separate and well-lit space of your examination room.

He didn’t try to hide his annoyance – in fact, he squared his shoulders and his steps sounded a bit loud for anyone to believe it was a coincidence. Also, the scowl of exasperation never left his otherwise handsome face.

“This is completely unnecessary. A stupid waste of time,” he hissed as he walked past you and you took a deep calming breath, exchanging an eyeroll with Sam before you disappeared from sight.

“Captain. I respect you and your position, but you say one more time that my job here is unnecessary and stupid, you’ll be looking for a new medic,” you retorted as he stripped the upper part of his uniform angrily, revealing his white-tank-top-clad torso.

Well, at least the fabric used to be white – now a blood stain the size of both of your palms was seeping into the material at Steve’s right side, gushing from what definitely appeared to be a knife wound.

You were gonna murder him one of those days... unless he got killed himself first.

“Seriously?!”

“It’s just a graze-” he started to argue but you cut him off when you tore the fabric away. He winced as some of the dried blood had acted as a glue, having stuck the cloth into the wound, and now was violently ripped off.

“Tr to insinuate again that I’m incompetent at recognizing what’s just a graze, Steve. I dare you. This is a cut wide and deep enough for stitches! Haven’t you had the serum, you could have been bleeding out to death on this table!”

“But I do have it-“

“Or for fuck’s SAKE, stop being a baby and let me treat the bloody gash in your right mesogastric area! The serum accelerates your healing, but it doesn’t make you invincible OR immortal as far as I know--- Jesus fucking Christ-!”

He bristled, taking a deep breath to fight back, but he never got the chance, because you started working and the words died in his throat. Surprisingly, inspecting the damage, poking around a knife wound that might have already begin to seal itself thanks to Erskine’s formula but had not been just a graze hurt and coincidentally, it pulled the rug from under his feet.

To his credit, Steve barely even hissed at the pain.

“Just so you know, I’ll be using the disinfection that stings worse,” you noted, voice dripping venom, because you were genuinely done with Steve’s bullshit.

You lied through your teeth though. You wouldn’t. No matter how infuriating Steve was and how difficult he made your life – causing you to fall for his stupid martyr ass and pine after him among other things – you would never purposely hurt him.

And he must have sensed that, because your remark didn’t earn you a murderous glare or a retort – much to your surprise.

In fact, Steve fell entirely quiet, watching you work without protest, not even objecting when you applied enough local anaesthetic to knock out an elephant and sewed the tissue together so it healed easier. He let you inspect the rest of his torso and bandage his ribs, vigorously shaking his head when you asked him if he was injured anywhere below the waist.

He observed you as you kept an eye on his face for any minute sign of pain he’d be hiding, but all you could see were his irises, startlingly bright blue, pools of honesty and something you had trouble decoding. He seemed… humbled almost. It silenced the anger inside you, the flames of rage – and fear for his well-being, if you were being honest with yourself – turning into a barely smouldering pile of ash.

When you moved on to his head, gently pushing away the strands which obscured the gash on his eyebrow, his eyelids slid shut. You knew how unpleasant facial injuries were, especially around one’s eyes and so you took care to be extra careful as you cleaned the wound and the area surrounding it, most definitely not using the stingy disinfectant.

Not that Steve could get an infection as far as you knew. It was more force of a habit than anything else… and it made you feel better. He had this idiotic mask of an invincible hero he put up sometimes and it drove you insane, because you knew he was only human, a beautiful kind soul, but god, could he be an ass.

“Almost done,” you whispered soothingly when you noticed his jaw tightening as you had to apply a bit more pressure to get a tiny piece of gravel from the cut. You certainly didn’t want that to stay under the newly healing skin.

The moment you retreated with the bloody gauze, Steve’s eyes were back on you, wide and regretful.

“I’m sorry,” he offered quietly, a genuine apology that sounded almost absurd after you two were hissing at each other like damn hellcats. “I didn’t mean to--- I’m sorry for being rude and ungrateful. Thank you for taking care of my injuries.”

One glance into those deep irises and benign hesitant smile and you were done for. How could you stay mad at him? Well, you were still mad at him for the absolute disregard of his own health, but… well. You also understood he felt like he needed to stay strong for the team and put them first and how he actually was in pain.

Pretty much everyone was a pain in the ass when in pain.

You sighed as you searched for few band-aid strips to cover the cut.

“It’s alright, Steve. I’m used to old men being grumpy and not meaning things they say when they are,” you offered lightly and he hung his head with a chuckle, clearly not taking the old man remark personally – and understanding you were referring to your brother.

His smile was wider when he looked up again. “You shouldn’t have to be used to it.”

You shrugged, carefully slipping two fingers under his chin to angle his face so you could stick the strips over the wound.

“Well, I deserve it sometimes. I don’t mean to… to be overbearing and make you feel like you’re incompetent or something,” you added hesitantly, worrying your teeth over your lower lip as the tone you’d been handling him with caught up with you. Perhaps you could have been nicer.

You smoothened the stripes of band-aid, gulping as you felt Steve’s gaze boring into your face while you continued.

“I know you’re not incompetent. You’re very capable, you’re the best. It’s just… I still--- worry- for all of you. For the full-time Earth’s mightiest heroes. Silly, huh?” you muttered self-depreciatingly and when your eyes met, you were startled by the intensity he watched you with as you laid your fears bare in front of him, leaving you vulnerable. You swiftly looked away and dropped your hands. “Here, almost as good as new.”

A lump grew in your throat as you stripped your gloves, tossing them into the bin. Did you reveal too much? Didn’t it sound silly indeed as you said it out loud? Yes, you were all friendly with each other, but you were supposed to be a professional, focused on your task, not getting distracted by-

-by Steve gently grasping your wrist, causing your heart to skip a startled beat. Definitely not getting weak in the knees when you shot him a surprised glance and he just… brought your hand to his face, lips briefly skimming over your knuckles.

Jesus Christ, Lord have mercy with me.

“Don’t you ever apologize for caring. Don’t stop caring. Silly is the last thing I’d call it.”

Your cheeks felt like set on fire, stomach fluttering as well as your heart. You could feel the ghost of Steve’s lips on your skin, sending your heartrate sky-high, causing your head to spin a bit, your body hot all over.

Did he really—did he just-? And did it mean that… did it mean anything at all?

He let go of your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles, but held your gaze adamantly as he gave you a sad smile and rose to his feet, clearly ready to leave.

You, on the hand, stood there frozen, mind racing.

Why had he done that? Was he really just trying to express gratitude and say sorry for his previous behaviour? Because that was not the way it was supposed to be done, because such tenderness left you entirely bewildered. Was he trying to tell you he was somehow interested in something more than friendship? Was he just high from the anaesthetic, mind you, local one that was not supposed to mess with his brain? Was there any sign of a head injury you missed?

“Thank you, again,” he whispered softly, moving to sidestep you and your hand instinctively shot out, latching onto his forearm… gently.

You gulped, heart stuttering when he glanced at you, puzzled.

One part of you wanted to sink into the floor in embarrassment at your unwitting reaction. Another part of you observed him so closely that you would swear that there was another emotion in his eyes and it was neither apology nor gratitude. You wistfully hoped for longing, the same longing you felt when you were near him, sometimes distant and barely there, other times so acute it hurt.

With your stomach somersaulting in doubt, you willed yourself to raise your free hand slowly, purposely giving him a chance – Lord, please, don’t let him take it – to stop you before your palm settled on his cheek.

You were certain you experienced a small cardiac arrest when Steve not only didn’t avoid the touch, but actually leaned into it, gaze fixed on your face, eyes brighter and softer than you ever remembered seeing. Your gaze flickered to his mouth deliberately, throat turning dry. Too daring? He kissed you knuckles, surely you could reciprocate some affection?

Swallowing against your dry throat, you leaned in before you could change your mind and dropped the briefest peck to his lips, causing his eyelids to flutter shut.

Oh no. Oh no no no no, you totally crossed a line-

You went to retreat your hands from him, but the second you moved, his eyes were snapping open, hand covering yours on his face to keep it there, the other cradling your face and then there was a warm and soft sensation on your own lips as he seized them with his.

Your mind went completely blank save two single thoughts: Steve is kissing me. I really like that.

A small sound escaped you, a blend of surprise and contentment, breaking you from your trance and turning you into an actual participant of the pleasant and entirely unexpected activity.

You drew in a small breath, head spinning from the scent of Steve’s shampoo, disinfectant, sweat and something you couldn’t quite put your finger on and not caring.

He tasted faintly of blood, but otherwise was nothing but sweet as his lips caressed yours, gently tugging at your lower lip and then the upper, the lightest graze of teeth and tease of tongue, finger pressing into your jaw to pull you closer, thumb stroking your cheek.

You whimpered involuntarily when his lips parted from yours, soothing as they returned for a short peck, to drop a brief kiss to the corner of your mouth, to brush your cheek.

Your name was a breathy whisper between the two of you, barely audible as all you could hear was your heartbeat pulsing frantically in your ears, growing aware of your fingers clutching at Steve’s still unzipped armour and nearly sinking in his hair, his hot breath tickling your skin.

You didn’t dare to open your eyes – what if you dreamed it up? What if you looked at him and saw regret – it didn’t feel like he would be regretting it, but… still. Insecurity tugged at your mind as it slowly cleared from the literally breath-taking kiss.

Steve repeated your name with urgency that was unheard of, the single word sounding almost as a plea.

“Please say something.”

Oh.

You blinked your eyes open, surprised to be met with his searching gaze, a minute furrow of his brows. It seemed you weren’t the only one whose mind was being the worst of one’s enemies.

Perhaps your brain was being stupid. Perhaps you both wanted this. Perhaps you felt exactly the same.

As you forced yourself to move, fingers actually slipping into his hair to caress his nape, Steve inhaled shakily, shoulders slumping. The tinniest of smiles tugged at his mouth, tempting red and minutely swollen from the kiss; you had to resist the urge to just taste it again.

Instead, you licked your lips only, savouring the previous sensations, smiling unwittingly.

“That’s… uhm, that’s a really creative new way of driving me crazy.”

Steve’s eyebrows rose along with one corner of his mouth, relief written all over his face.

“Oh? There are other ways in which I’m driving you crazy? Because I couldn’t tell...”

You narrowed your eyes, but you didn’t think he bought you unconvincing act of being irritated with him at such remark.

“Don’t push it, Captain,” you warned him, but your treacherous mouth kept curling up in a smile, your body still buzzing with aftershocks of the kiss.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Uh-huh… s-sure,” you stuttered briefly as his thumb caressed your cheek, bright smiling eyes watching only inches from your face – and yet it felt like he was too far.

“You’re driving me crazy too, you know,” he noted in a breathy voice, causing you to gulp as his gaze flickered to your mouth, clearly implying how you do so… among other ways… like your stubbornness practically matching his.

“Oh really? I do? I couldn’t tell…”

He chuckled, his hand slipping to your nape, soft tickle of his fingers making you squirm.

“I’m gonna kiss you again now if that’s okay,” he whispered, not waiting for your permission and erasing the distance between your lips again.

Still, you whispered your approval to his mouth.

“So okay…”

Long moments later when Sam called out to warn you that you’d be landing soon, you said yes to the grumpy old man’s request to let him treat you dinner.

Oh if you only knew by then how far you’d come…

Lost in thought, goofy smile on your face, you exited the bathroom, ready to snuggle your future husband… and to fully take the opportunity to make love, last night before you officially became his and he became yours.

You had a brief second to register that the bed was empty, your heart skipping a started and disappointed beat. The second you stepped out though, you were literally swept off your feet.

A yelp erupted from your throat as you found yourself with no ground under your feet and high in the air, one of Steve’s arms under your knees, the other under your back. Your hands frantically gripped at the nearest firm point, Steve’s shoulder and arm as you finally realized what the hell happened and was met with a cheeky grin and sparkling blue of his eyes.

That traitor was waiting just by the door to ambush you! Why?

You slapped his very much bare shoulder playfully, hissing a curse, not unaware of the heat radiating of him and seeping into your skin.

“You jerk! You almost gave me a heart attack!” you complained, but he didn’t even have the decency to look apologetic.

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

“No, you’re not.”

Steve grinned wider, shrugging and pulling you closer to his torso, nuzzling your temple and dropping a placatory kiss there.

“Still looking a little cold.”

“No, I look like this because you scared me,” you emphasized, vainly trying to resist the seduction; a mixture of playfulness, sweetness and blatant display of strength as he still held you with ease. It was hard not to be temped. “And you look like you’re awfully warm, parading here without a shirt.”

“Well, I’d call us even since you’re parading around in these absolutely sinful shorts. Makes me hot. I can warm you up,” he mumbled to your skin, lips moving to your ear, causing you to shudder.

How was it so easy for him to make you all hot and bothered? You guessed that at least, as he said, it made you even... it wasn’t difficult to get him riled up either.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Driving you crazy?” Steve offered, sounding awfully delighted at the idea and you only melted into him further at the reminiscence of your first kiss and what followed.

“Always,” you confirmed, deadly serious, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips or the mewl that escaped you when his teeth grazed the shell of your ear, warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of your neck.

“But you love it.”

“Uh-huh…”

“I can live with that with that then,” he said, stalking to the bed determinately. “Now let me drive you so crazy you can barely speak and the only sound you’re making is whimpering my name.”

He all but tossed you on the bed, a yelp of his name in fact erupting from your throat, followed by a fit of giggles that only died when his mouth seized yours, his lips only leaving when heading south to indeed drive you crazy.

And yes; you loved it.

And you loved him too.

In one unending moment I fall within your reach My song a sweet surrender Hold on to me Hold on to me

Before the girls could steal you from him, Steve decided – with your enthusiastic agreement – that you should once again try how it felt to make some morning lovin’ outside marriage. With the ceremony planned for the late afternoon, you had plenty of time; and needless to say, it was bliss. Then again, you believed that marital sex with Steve would be just as delightfully pleasant, thank you very much.

Then, it was a whirlwind – make up, hair, dress, a tear or two spilled when you saw the result in the mirror.

More tears spilled when you glanced out of the window and saw the tastefully and modestly decorated arch, the path created by few scattered rose petals, the male part of your almost family sans Clint in the suits, effectively hiding Steve from you; and you from his just in case, because no one wanted any bad luck.

Your staring was interrupted when your brother went to pick you up to lead you down the aisle.

Upon entering the room and setting his gaze on you, he promptly looked away with a sniffle. It both warmed your heart and made you laugh as did his remark.

“Nope, not giving you to him. In fact, I’m never giving you to anyone. No one will ever be worthy, so I’m keeping you.”

“Hush, Clinton, you’ll still have me,” Natasha winked at him as he took a deep calming breath before carefully eyeing you again.

Clearly, it hadn’t done the job, because few tears still found their way down his cheeks.

“You’re a knock-out, sis,” he sputtered hastily, but no less honestly – clearly moved to tears.

And yet… you snorted at his choice of words and he rolled his eyes, quick to compliment your beauty instead.

You wouldn’t have it any other way though, even appreciating his first remark more for it came from the bottom of his heart rather than from what convention required.

Embracing you carefully in fear he would mess up the work of art his wife and other girls created, he held you in his arms for a moment, as you retuned the hug, clutching at his suit with a little too force. From the corner of your eye, you noticed the bridesmaids clearing the room.

“It’s not like I’m leaving you, Bobo,” you hummed with a smile, throwing his own words from last night at him.

And you weren’t leaving him; your heart swelled with love for your brother, your father figure, your long-life friend.

With sniffle, he let go of you and looked you up and down, proud smile spreading on his lips.

“It’s okay. If you are, I have the best spy in the world for a wife, we’ll drag your ass back home.”

You just slapped his chest playfully and took a deep breath – it was time. Clint grasped your hand firmly then, elbows interlocking, and went to step out just a moment after the bridesmaids left to join the groomsmen.

Well-aware everyone was going to stare and that Steve awaited you at the end of the aisle to marry you, your legs were shaking minutely as the magnitude of the event finally dawned to you.

“Getting second thoughts now?” Clint teased you, eliciting a chuckle from you and shake of your head.

What a question.

“No. Just… please don’t let me fall,” you muttered to him, entirely serious and grateful for your choice of footwear – simple flats hidden by the long flowing skirt of your dress. Better chance of not spraining your ankle on your wedding day.

“Never.”

Clint squeezed your hand under his warm palm and you took a deep breath, stepping into the doorway. Soft melody welcomed you, your very own wedding march Bruce was playing on a mouth organ – something you had previously had no idea he was capable of.

Looking up from your skirt, you feasted your eyes on the company and the beautiful scenery for only a regretfully short moment, grateful for Sam’s Redwing programmed to record and take photos.

Your gaze instinctively searched the small crowd instead, until it fell under the arch where three men stood.

One of them was Sam himself, having obtained a licence so he could be your wedding registrar; he looked positively dashing. So did Bucky, who patted his best friend dressed in his old-fashioned green captain uniform on the shoulder, his smirk visible even from tens feet away as he stepped back.

Naturally, your gaze lingered on Steve, your feet acting of their own accord and following your brother’s lead.

Gosh, your future husband was the most handsome and absolutely hottest specimen to ever walk the Earth. Hair combed neatly to one side and in his old army uniform, he truly looked like the gentleman from another era he was and yet, he undeniably belonged exactly where he was. His eyes were bright and blue just like the sky, lips slightly parting before curling up into a brilliant smile which somehow still carried the tenderness he treated you with when he felt particularly affectionate.

He must have uttered something under his breath, because Bucky pressed his lips together as if he was holding back laugh. The absolutely best best man, ladies and gentleman.

Your found yourself smiling just as widely, a stray tear tickling the corner of your eye and you had to fight the sudden urge to ditch Clint in order to gather your skirts and run the rest of the way just to jump into Steve’s arms.

But in reality, there was no rush – here, on the damn island Tony rented, there was so much time that one short walk meant nothing in comparison.

“Alright, maybe I’ll give you to him,” Clint whispered, making you bite the inside of your cheek so you would cackle.

Leave it to your brother he would find Steve Rogers so fine he’d be willing to give you out just to have him become a part of your family.

One corner of Steve’s lips twitched in amusement – supersoldier hearing didn’t miss the remark then. Good. Then Bucky heard it too and you had a witness just in case Clint would change his mind. Again.

Finally, with your heart almost in your throat, you reached the end of the aisle, Clint gently putting your hand into Steve’s… without letting go.

“You be nice to her, Cap. And I mean really nice, you hear? Or else-“

“Hush,” you hissed good-naturedly in your brother’s direction, winking at him before you returned your gaze to Steve. “Hey there, handsome.”

Steve chuckled under his breath when Clint stepped back. He returned the greeting with soft ‘hey there, beautiful’ and then proceeded to lift your joined hands, brushing your knuckles with his lips – just like the day you shared your first kiss.

Well now you truly found yourself on the verge of crying. And Lord, you wanted to kiss him so much-

Sam cleared his throat loudly, casting you both a meaningful look as if he could read your mind and wanted to remind you that there were a few things to go through before that could happen.

Ugh. Formalities. Just let me kiss him…

Steve licked his lips – the audacity! – and turned, lightly tugging at your hand so you both faced your friend who held a little leather book open, beckoning towards the guests: Bucky and Natasha, the best man and the best woman, Clint, Bruce, Tony, Vision, Wanda, Sharon, Pepper. Just your closest friends and family.

Sam cleared his throat again.

“Alright. We all know why we gathered here today. To get these two amazing people married, so they could officially become a special team within our team.”

You grinned, peripherally noticing Steve eyeing you as well. Team indeed.

“This is the part where I would ask all of you, bride and groom included, to speak up now if you’re aware of anything standing in the way of this wedlock or to remain silent forever. But frankly, if you have something to say, right now is the perfect time to keep it to yourself. Just let these lovebirds get married…”

Muffled laughter and giggles erupted from your group. Honestly, you wouldn’t say it better. You noticed Clint shifting and Natasha forcefully holding his hand down; you bit down on your lip so you wouldn’t laugh and sent her a grateful smile instead. The best maid of honour ever.

“Good, that’s what I wanted to hear, folks. We have the rings, correct? Great. Just so you know, these two saps asked me to read one vow which they are making to each other, because they didn’t trust themselves to say theirs individually without bursting into tears. So now it’s left to me to cry instead. Thanks for that.”

Your cheeks were honestly starting to hurt from smiling so wide, but tears prickled in your eyes acutely just at the thought of the vow you agreed on. You spent countless hours thinking about what you wanted to say and realized that your vow would be too long and that you would in fact start crying and that you could never name all the things you loved Steve for. It had been a relief to find out that Steve shared the sentiment and the deal was made.

Natasha and Bucky dutifully laid the rings on the pillow Wanda’s powers held levitating by your and Steve’s side – not without Bucky finding a split second to compliment your appearance and earning a brief smirk from Steve.

“I know,” Steve uttered and you wondered if there was a dare going around as to who would make you burst out laughing first.

This was your wedding dammit. You could be at least a bit a lady and remain collected.

Hardly.

“With this ring,” Sam started, breathing in and out and you knew you already lost, first tear rolling down your cheek as you gazed into Steve’s inviting eyes, “I give myself to you without giving up myself. With this ring, I surrender to you for I have faith you understand the value of wielding such power and for I deem you worthy of it. With this ring, I promise to love you, to respect you and to support you to be your best self as I trust you to do the same for me, for us.”

You blinked away the waterfalls, reaching almost blindly for Steve’s ring and with fingers trembling – with giddiness, not nerves – you somehow succeeded at slipping it on his left ring finger.

“I do,” you whispered, your voice cracking even in such simple sentence and the watery smile Steve graced you with made your ribcage feel too small for your swelling heart.

Fingers equally clumsy, he slipped a ring on you as well, shoulders squaring as if in pride.

“I do,” he said firmly, the damp path down his left cheek only adding severity to his vow.

“You may-- uhm, okay, you may kiss the bride, your wife--- I mean, Mrs. Rogers. You may kiss the groom, your husband…” Sam mumbled under his breath until he didn’t, because Steve pulled you in for a kiss the same moment Sam said the first ‘may’ and incidentally, the same moment you practically threw yourself at Steve.

Laughter and whistles erupted from the group of your friends as Steve bend you back dramatically, the determined press of his lips to yours not at all disrupted by the change of angle, claiming your mouth in ways that made you shudder and stirred flames in your belly.

Years and years later, you’d recall that kiss and realized an amazing thing; how it felt just like your first kiss, your last one, and every single one in between.

With you still practically horizontal, Steve’s crinkling eyes met yours, delighted smile on his kiss-swollen lips.

“I love you, Mrs. Rogers,” he hummed, adding a cheeky grin. “You’re stuck with me now.”

“The horror,” you muttered back teasingly, pulling at his nape, demanding another kiss, your own declaration whispered to his mouth. “I love you too, Mr. Rogers.”

And you did. Gosh, you did.

S.R. masterlist

(divider by firefly-graphics)

Well. This turned out SO DIFFERENTLY than I anticipated and SO MUCH LONGER. If you feel like leaving feedback, I’ll be grateful. If not, well. *shurgs*

Excuse me while I go and continue dreaming of ONE fictional man. Ugh. Anyway.

Thank you for reading!

And once again, thanks to WIYBUPT for hosting and for just being awesome in general :)

#catfa 10th anniversary challenge #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff #barton reader #barton reader fic #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america imagine #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers fafiction #steve rogers fanfic #my timid hello my clumsy goodbye #anika ann

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yesimwriting · 3 years

Text

Falling Angels: chapter two

A/n took me longer to get around to writing part 2 than i thought!! i didn’t know there was an audience for this idea but im glad you guys liked it!!

Im adding a country to the grishaverse to make my story work,, def not a big deal i just needed a country in which i could control the history of without worrying about conflicting with cannon lol

Link to part one: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/yesimwriting/652318577650696192 (lmk if this works ive never linked something to a tumblr post lol)

Series Summary: Y/n is a rising star in the most famous circus in Ketterdam because of her ability to see the future. Unfortunately for her, Kaz Brekker knows more of her backstory than he should, and he’s willing to use that to his advantage. The one thing he’s not betting on? That he doesn’t know her entire story

Chapter summary: Y/n gets a visitor before getting tricked into the most dangerous show of her life.

Pairng: SOC x reader, Kaz Brekker x sunshine-y! Psychic! Reader

My father seemed to love me more after two glasses of something amber. It was after these two glasses that he would tell me realities his inebriated self believed I needed to internalize. He’d pat my head affectionately and smiled at me as he told me that the world was a bad place. Most of his lessons are lost in my mind, but the one I remember most clearly is that there’s no such thing as a kept secret. There’s always a leak or a flaw or a factor you could not account for. He told me that if I wanted to keep a secret, I would have to decide what I was willing to risk for it.

I know from Seria’s reaction to his presence that listening to Kaz is a risk, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take for my secret. “I don’t know what you think I am, but you’re mistaken.” It doesn’t really matter that he believes me. I have the paperwork I need to disprove him. “I have to get to my tent.”

“The princess gets her own tent?” His words are saturated by mock casualness but I can feel his pride on how he delivered that line.

My body is still tense from balancing over flames and his confidence only adds to my desire to unravel. I can’t get angry here. Not at him. Not with the way he grips that cane of his. “I don’t understand what--”

“You may be able to play pretend here where no one wants to look twice at you, but I know what you are.” His stiffness leaves my skin prickling. “I know who you are.”

I swallow back my panic. “Then who am I?”

“You’re that king’s bastard--the one with a high bounty on her head.” Don’t back down. Even the smallest crack will confirm his story. “As long as she’s returned alive.”

Thoughts of what my father would do to me if ever given the chance strike me with more anxiety than his presence does. “I’ve heard of the girl you’re talking about,” I admit, the lie leaving me as easily as the air leaves my lungs when I exhale. “But I’m not her.”

“You’re not from Ketterdam, if you were you would have known who I was after you friend referred to me as Dirtyhands.” I have no defense, but I never claimed to be from Ketterdam. “You make your business claiming to be a psychic.” I am a psychic, but now is not the time to make that argument. “Elkosa is a relatively small and self efficient port kingdom, the island is nothing more than a jagged coastline barely larger than Ketterdam, but I have connections in all places.” He knows someone from Elkosa? I have to fight the instinct to move all of my weight on the balls of my feet, prepared to run. “A captain of the royal fleet told me the story of the night the King’s bastard ran into the meeting room the night before ten ships were meant to sail to Ravka.”

He studies my reaction as I struggle to keep my expression blank. “None of that seems connected.”

“Patience is a virtue most Saints are familiar with.” I roll my eyes. “The bastard couldn’t have been more than nine at the time, but the guards did not want to let her in. The King told them to let her interrupt. The sailor noted this because he had never made an exception to his meeting before. The girl described a nightmare to her father, a nightmare of a storm and ten dead birds. The king did not comfort her, she finished her story by saying that he asked to know about all of her dreams. She went back upstairs and the King continued the meeting as normal but the next day the King cancelled the trip.”

I remember that night as the night I realized that if I’m not careful, I’ll feel what I see in my visions. It felt like I was drowning. I felt the death of each of those men and instead of comforting me, my father nodded once like I had offered him advice and sent me back to my room. “And?” My defense is weak, my mind too lost in the memories of drowning. “Many smaller countries are superstitious.”

“The next day the worst storm to have impacted that ocean occurred. For four nights and three days the storm continued.”

I press my nails into my palms. “You don’t believe that I am precognitive, so that sailor’s unverified story has nothing to do with me.”

“A princess that can see the future disappears at the same time a failing circus hires a girl who has no business in this city who claims to be able to see the future.” He adjusts his stance, taking pressure off the cane as if he’s preparing to need to use it for something else. “I am not fool enough to believe in coincidence.”

“And I am not fool enough to crack beneath the vague threats of a man. In my experience, men always threaten with a blade when really all they’re in possession of is a butter knife. Try to drag me from here kicking and screaming, find a way to incapacitate me and put me on a ship to Elkosa, but when the King sees that you brought him a stranger he will have your head.”

He blinks, expression hard as stone. I tense, preparing for a physical blow. “I didn’t expect you to be a half-decent liar, but I should have.” I bite my tongue to avoid resorting to something I can’t take back. Like begging. “Even if it’s in only half your blood.”

“I am not her.” My stubbornness burns more than the need to survive. I inhale, hoping to shake the grasp of the sensation but it only worsens. The pinch of dread in my chest is heavy and familiar. A vision.

No. Not now--not in front of him. I push against it even though I know that only makes it worse. Not now. Not now. I should be grounding myself but all I can think about is how stupid I am and how bad this situation is.

“I’m not an idiot, I know to be quiet. I see myself crouched somewhere dark.

“Being defensive doesn’t make you any more intelligent.” It takes me a minute to recognize Kaz in the darkness.

We’re somewhere small, our backs against the same wall but our shoulders do not touch. This vision is enshrouded by the feel of panic.

This other me grimaces, but her eyes lack anger, “Remind me why I agreed to help you again?”

“You never told me why,” he admits, “you can change your mind on participating and I can change my mind on whether or not you're more useful than your father’s money.”

Something loud crashes from behind the door we’re both staring at. “You’ll have no use for me or my father’s money if we die here.” I squeeze my hands together.

He hesitates, “My ghost will.”

The future-me almost smiles. “I wonder if I’ll be able to see ghost futures.” I hesitate, something strange behind my eyes. “I wonder if that can exist, if there’s a future beyond endings.”

Future-Kaz is silent for a long second. “There should be,” he says, “for someone like you, at least.”

I watch the way I take in his words. “You’d be there, too,” my voice is low, “your ghost at least.” I turn my head, staring at the door instead of him, “If you weren’t, I’d miss the brooding.”

The vision leaves me with sweaty palms and swirling thoughts. All of my visions do that. Not all of them make me feel so confused. Apparently, he needs help and I agree to do so. At one point we’ll be pushed into a life or death situation and I won’t loathe him.

I blink twice, forcing myself to hold onto the reality in front of me. I don’t have to agree--the future isn’t set in stone. For all I know tomorrow morning I’ll have a vision in which he kills me.

“Are you ignoring me?”

Shaking my head, I turn to face him. “You need help.” I don’t wait for his reaction. “You’re not here to return someone to the King of Elkosa, you’re here because you need someone that can see the future.”

“I--”

“It’s not that you won’t take me to Elkosa, it’s that you’d rather use my abilities for something.”

I’m confusing him again, but that’s okay. I’d rather deal with him confused than angry. “I need to know how a certain business deal of mine is going to be worth what it costs.”

He’s spent the entire time claiming he doesn’t believe in my power. Was that some kind of tactic? In the vision I saw, despite the panic surrounding the situation I didn’t feel panicked around him. The probability of that future occurring is probably low. I’ve been wrong before, the future changes too much for me to know everything.

“That’s not how readings work,” I admit, “I don’t have that much control on them. Most of them come to me randomly. The events I see always involve me or someone I care about to a certain capacity. I can give someone a general glimpse into their future but I can’t promise I’ll see what they want. Sometimes I can see the general vision by just focusing on their energy but usually I need some physical contact for it to work.” That seems like a fair explanation. “Oh--and not all of my predictions come true, most are blurry, few are solid--the future is always moving.”

Wait...the vision I saw where I was with Kaz wasn’t blurry. Those can be wrong, but it’s much rarer. Do I really agree to this?

“Then maybe I should make it involve you.” His aggression has me forcing myself to stand my ground. He can threaten me all he wants but that won’t change things. “Or take the money your father would give me and cut my losses.”

Every time I’ve purposefully destroyed a solid vision, something bad has happened. I’m genuinely considering it. “What do you need a psychic for, anyways?”

“To get through the Fold.”

Despite everything, I laugh. “I’ve never seen anyone get through the Fold, literally or in my visions.”

He’s unphased by my doubt. “It’s happened.”

I really don’t want to help him. “Well then good luck, I’m happy to part ways here.”

I manage one step forward before he moves his cane in front of my path. I’m getting tired of this. “You’re assisting me one way or the other, whether that aid will be financial or through your services is up to you.”

Anger pinches in my stomach the way it often does when I’m told what to do. The one thing centering me is the vision still reflecting in my thoughts. There’s no denying it--I had felt comfortable with him. There is a future in which I feel comfortable with him and I’m not sure I’ll be able to avoid it.

“I won’t get in trouble for you,” I tell him, “The Ringmaster holds onto those indentured to him, especially the commodities that bring him profit.”

There’s something stiff about his silence. I wonder if he’s always like this, pushing the weight of his presence onto those around him without saying a word. “When I have a goal, it is achieved. I’ll speak to him.”

I cannot imagine a conversation I want to be involved in less. The Ringmaster and this man that Seria had labeled ‘Dirtyhands’. “I just had a vision--I saw your entire conversation and it ends with you missing an arm.” His stoic expression does not shift. “Okay, I’m aware that it wasn’t the funniest joke, but throw me a bone--you threatened to kidnap me and sell me to my father in order to extort me and I’ve been nothing but polite to you.”

He’s quiet for a moment, something in his expression changing in a way I can’t read. “All you’ve done is lie since the moment you started to speak to me.”

The optimist in me would like to think that his annoyance counts for banter. I shrug, feeling a little lighter than I did a second ago. I’m certainly not comfortable but I’m starting to see how to put up with the tension without letting it strain me. “Well, polite for my standards.”

I let him brood. “You must have done well as a royal.”

My past cuts through the peace I managed to grab onto. It’s not his fault, he has no way of knowing what the castle was like for me. I open my mouth, but I don’t know what I’m going to say. “I had my moments,” I finally settle on, hoping the echo of pain isn’t visible behind my eyes.

I guess it doesn’t matter if he sees me bleed. He’s heartless, and I hate sympathy.

“Y/n,” Seria’s voice is genuine anger, “You’ve turned into an idiot--first the tightrope walk and now entertaining whatever deal he’s trying to coax from you.” I love Seria, she’s the reason I didn’t die in the street when I first arrived in Ketterdam, but she sees me as a mindless child. “Whatever he told you, whatever he promised you--it’s a lie.”

“He hasn’t promised me anything.” I need to calm her down. Once she’s calm, everything will be normal again. “And he knows.” I don’t have to turn to feel the way Seria gapes at me. “He knows who I am, so I have to do what he wants.”

“You never have to do anything a man is forcing onto you, y/n. We’ll find a way--”

“Seria, it’s fine,” I reach to touch her arm, “I’ll be fine, you can’t protect me from everything and you don’t have to.”

Kaz throws a pointed glare at the man who was with him earlier. When did the stranger get here? “Boss, she’s faster than she looked, but I have what we need to get the girl--”

“You’re late,” Kaz sighs, bored, “she’s agreed.”

Wait--what was he going to do if I didn’t agree? “Out of curiosity, what are you talking about?” The man blinks twice, squeezing a rag between his ring-clad fingers. “You were going to use chloroform to kidnap me, weren’t you?”

For some reason I don’t understand, the stranger gives me a look that’s a cross between sheepish and charming. “Nothing personal.”

“Or original.”

Seria pinches my arm. “Y/n,” she scolds, “your sense of humor is going to kill me one of these days.”

I cringe, pulling my arm away. “When I met you, you were pickpocketing in the pleasure district, please remember that.”

She rolls her eyes. “An attitude like that is going to leave you without a place to sleep at night.”

I take her comment for the empty threat it is. Every other day she’s threatening to kick me out of her private trailer so that I’m forced to fight for cots or speak to the Ringmaster about my lodging arrangements. He’d give me what I want, but speaking to him feels so slimy I’d sleep in the woods before trying it.

“Kaz.” I turn my head in time to see the girl that gave me the advice about the tightrope walker. “We need to go, he’s coming soon--you’ll do better to speak to him in the morning after she’s gone, that way he has nothing to hold over your head.”

“Once I’m gone?” The girl had called me a Saint. I can appeal to her. “I’m not--I’m not going anywhere, I said I’d help.”

Her eyes widen, sympathy reflected clearly in her dark irises. “There was never a version of this in which you ended up staying here.” I hear a hint of apology in her voice. “You won’t believe me, but I promise this will be better for you.” All of her pity is gone with those, replaced by something hard.

Seria responds for me, “I think you should go.”

“What?”

She almost smiles, but her eyes are painfully sad. “I never wanted you to be here forever. I don’t trust these people, but I trust their ability to get you out of here, even if only for a little while. Bad things are coming, and I think you’ll miss the worst of it if you go now.”

What she alludes to is a blade in my heart. “You want me to leave you here to deal with it?”

“Y/n, I’ve been hurt here more times than I can count--”

“No, I won’t leave y--”

Seria squeezes my shoulder, “It’s not forever.” When she wants something, it’s almost impossible to get around it. “Besides, if I need you, you’ll see it.”

My world feels to have lost the vibrance of color. I’ve left so much, but I let myself believe I wouldn’t leave her. I pull her into the hug. “The moment I see a vision of you in any type of danger, I’m coming back.” I hug her even tighter when she tries to pull away so that I can whisper something in her ear, “I’ll use this opportunity to leave the Ringmaster and then I’ll get you out, and together we’ll leave Ketterdam. We’ll find your child, like you always wanted to and they’ll know that they're lucky because they’re the only kid in the world to have you as a mother.”

She squeezes me so tightly I find it hard to take full breaths. “Two,” Seria whispers, “I have two children.”

My eyes burn as her words find their way into my heart. “I love you, Seria.”

“I love you too, my star,” she pulls away enough so that I can look her in the eye, “you don’t like being called a Saint, but I can’t think of anyone more deserving of the title.”

Tears prick my eyes as she releases me. “I’ll find you.”

“He’ll be coming soon,” the girl warns, “He spoke to an advisor about wanting to find you after the show.”

No doubt to praise the fire stunt he forced onto me. Bastard. I nod once but I don’t move. I can’t bring myself to leave Seria until the girl places a hand on my elbow.

Falling Angels Taglist: @glowstick-lesbian @cashlum @whatiswrongwithpeople @pass-me-jeez-it @thecraziestcrayon

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karls-writing-space · 3 years

Note

Eyo!! Can I be ⭐ Anon? Also, I'd like a request where Sarvente, C!Sapnap and Updike(if you can) comforting a reader who vurnt their hand by a candle on accident? I just got burnt by candle wax and it still hurts 😥😥 [⭐]

Absolutely - three comfort things coming up! I hope these are good!

Heya, mate!!

Ofc you can be ⭐ Anon. That's chill with me!

And owch, that sounds painful. I hope your hand feels better soon!

— ☆ — ☆ — ☆ — ☆ — ☆ — ☆ — ☆ — ☆ — ☆ — ☆ — ☆ — ☆ — ☆ — ☆—

Sarvente, C!Sapnap, and Updike Comforting A Reader That Burnt Their Hand Via A Candle

— ☆ — ☆ — ☆ — ☆ — ☆ — ☆ — ☆ — ☆ — ☆ — ☆ — ☆ — ☆ — ☆ — ☆—

Sarvente

Mom mode has been activated.

Sarv will drop anything she's doing when she's doing to come and help you.

This angel of a demon would ask to look at your hand. If you allow her to, she will be glad that you are co-operating with her, and will take a look at the burn.

If you refuse to let her look at your hand, she will persist that she needs to take a look. You're injured, and she's worried about your well-being. She will not stop until you show her your hand.

She would then rush you to the kitchen sink to run your hand under some cool water. As she leads you to the sink, Sarv asks you questions about the injury you sustained.

"How did you burn your hand love? Were you playing with the candle? Did any wax drip on you? Were you trying to put it out? Wait - why would someone put out a candle with their hand?"

As you tell her, she clearly gets more worried about you. Sarv would glance at your burnt hand every few seconds to see if it was blistering or if you needed to be taken to the hospital.

As she turns on the sink, she would gently place your hand under the running water. If you were to hiss in pain, she would try to comfort you with her words.

"I know it hurts, darling. We just have to keep it under the water for a little bit."

In a way to try and comfort you, Sarv would pull you into a sideways hug, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. She would ask if you needed anything as your hand remained under the water.

If you wanted to listen to some music, she would pull out her phone and (try to) navigate her way through some online music apps to play some music you like.

If you were hungry or thirsty, she would supply you with the food or beverage that you wanted.

If you wanted to talk about something, she will start a conversation about something you like. A book or show series? She'll ask questions about it. Randoms topics? She'll be happy to supply.

Once your hand was finished running under the water, Sarv will almost run to the medicine cabinet that was located a few rooms over to grab some antibacterial ointment, telling you to wait there at the sink.

Sarvente would then grab the first aid kit kept in the kitchen, grabbing some gauze and an adhesive bandage wrap. This wasn't her first time dealing with something like this. Ruv actually had gotten minor burns before, and who treated him? Sarvente, that's who.

As she continues to treat your wound, she looks at you gently. She knows that getting burnt isn't fun

"Is there anything that I can do to lighten your mood, love?"

If you want to cuddle, she will be down for that! Sarv will lead you to either your room, her room, or the common room, and carefully wrap her arms around you. She'll want to be the bigger spoon, but if you want to be the big spoon, she won't argue.

She will be cautious of your hand. She doesn't want to put you in more pain and wants to make sure you are comfortable.

Sarvente is a loving girlfriend, and she cares about you. A lot.

C!Sapnap

"Ohhh, shit-"

That was his first reaction when he saw your hand.

He's worried about you. Then again - who wouldn't? You burned your hand.

Sapnap would lead you to the tap to run your hand under some cool water for a little bit. To try and be somewhat comforting, he would gently rub your shoulders or back in a soothing manner. If he was to hear you hiss in pain, his breath would hitch momentarily. He hates hearing that you're in pain.

"I know, I know. It's almost over, hon."

He would then stop rubbing your back/shoulders and plant a kiss on your forehead before claiming that he was going to get something to try and lessen the pain and walking out of the room for a moment.

Sappinappi then returned to the kitchen with a cold compress and some ointment, gauze, and an adhesive bandage to help fix up your hand. The noirette would turn off the tap and gently move your hand to put it on the counter.

"Alright. This is gonna sting."

He would gently place the cold compress on your hand, moving his free hand under yours as to kind of hold it in place so it wouldn't flinch away.

After he places the compress on your hand, Sap begins to think of a way to try and comfort you or to get your mind off of the pain temporarily.

"Sooo... Did you hear about the fire at the circus? It was pretty ... intents."

A small grin spread across Sapnap's face as he told the punchline, earning a light punch to the arm, followed by a slight deadpan look.

"Really?"

"C'mon, that was a good one."

You lightheartedly rolled your eyes at your boyfriend's joke. The joke little ironic, as you were currently dealing with a fire-related injury at the moment. Sapnap chuckled lightly, deciding to joke around a bit with you.

From decent jokes to the downright dumb ones, Sapnap was feeding you jokes in hope that it would distract you from the pain.

"A man walks into the doctor's office. 'Doc', he says, 'I think I'm addicted to Twitter.' 'Sorry', the doctor replies, "I don't follow you."

"Uh... what do you call a rich elf? Welfy."

"What did the green grape say to the purple grape? 'Breathe, you idiot, breathe!'"

He does earn a few laughs from you, and it's enough to make him smile. He likes that this method seems to be working and that you're laughing. He really loves your laugh.

Once he removes that cold compress from your hand, he moves your hand onto the flat surface that is the countertop, having had moved his hand from under yours.

He applies the ointment and gauze onto your hand, then wraps it up in the bandage. All while pressing kisses onto your cheeks every now and again. When he finishes, he gently holds your bandaged hand in his hand, his eyes shifting back up at your face.

"So, you wanna mess around with Karl and Big Q? Do you wanna cuddle or...? Because I don't mind what we do."

You thought about it for a moment or so before coming up with a decision. "Cuddles." You reply.

The bandana-wearing man nodded, his arms picking you up from the ground, holding you bridal-style. Holding you close. All while being wary of your hand. He was being a bit of a playful dummy. But hey, you loved him. He loved you. It all worked out.

With a hum, Sapnap carried you into the living room. "Let the cuddles commence!"

Updike

"How... Did you burn your hand from a candle?"

The cloud guy may look calm, he's worried about the state your hand is in your hand. He's already leading you into the kitchen. He isn't trying to run, but he really isn't walking either.

On the way to the kitchen, Updike grabs an aloe vera plant that he had growing in his hallway. It's to soothe the burn.

As the two of you enter the kitchen and place your hand under running water, he places a hand on your shoulder and looks at you.

"Is there anything right now? I'll grab anything you need. Food, water, a book, a chair - anything."

"Can I have a hug?"

Updike blinks a few times, surprised by the sudden request. He nods, as he gently pulls you into his embrace. He's mindful of your hand and is careful not to move it all that much while it's under the tap.

Your free arm wraps around his shoulders, a soft smile forming on your face. You then move your hand to pat his (rather fluffy) head.

A rosy hue colors Updike's cheeks as he lightly melts into your touch.

"You're soft... And fluffy."

"Oh? Am I now?" He would respond with a soft chuckle.

"Mhm. Soft and fluffy like a ..." You tried to compare his fluffiness to another thing, but ended up saying "A cloud."

Updike cocks a brow, his smile growing a tad more. "Why am I not surprised?"

You snicker, which just makes Updike smile. He's glad that you're laughing a bit.

The two of you remain in each other's arms, both of you basking in the presence of the other. When the time comes for you to remove your hand from the water, Updike releases you from his arms, turns of the tap, and gently places your hand under his on the countertop.

The male takes a piece of the aloe vera plant off of the plant itself and opens the piece to expose the gel inside of it. He then rubs it on your hand, humming a soft, tuneless tune.

I think he would keep a first aid kit in a closet in his living room. It's used when he has to tend to some minor injuries from his occupation. Right now, you need it.

Updike leads you into the living room and sits you down on the couch, patting your head gently before going to grab his kit.

He's very gentle when he applies the ointment and gauze to your hand.

When wrapping your hand up, he asks if it is tight enough, too loose, or too tight on your hand.

Once Updike finishes maintenance on your hand, he puts everything away back where it was. He then returns over to you, asking what you'd want to do now.

"Can you read to me? Please?"

Updike doesn't deny your request and nods, asking if you have a preferred book or genre you wish to have read to you. If you do, he'll grab it for you. If you don't, he'll grab a book that he thinks you'd like.

He would let you rest your head on his shoulder as he reads. He would run his hands through your hair every once in a while as well.

#fnf headcanons #fnf hcs #fnf fanfic #dream smp fanfiction #dream smp fandom #dsmp fandom #dsmp sapnap #dream smp headcanons #dream smp fanfic #sapnap x y/n #sapnap x reader #fnf sarvente #fnf mid fight masses #sarvente mid fight masses #sarvente x reader #updike x reader #fnf updike #dsmp fanfic #vix writes stuff

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talkfastromance4 · 3 years

Text

fun day with uncles//Luke&Lily special feat Ashton and Calum

a/n: I want to expand on the relationships the girls have with their uncles (and soon Oliver and Michael) so I hope you enjoy!

word count: 2.1 k

warnings: none, just fun and fluff with our girls and Cashton :)

Luke&Lily Masterlist

Enjoy!

***

You and Luke were going to the doctor’s office for Oliver’s routine check-ups and Calum and Ashton offered to take the girls out for a day. Lily and Posy were talking nonstop about it during breakfast asking where they were going and what they were going to do.

“Will Duke be with us?” Lily asks while you’re styling her hair in her room. Luke has Posy in her room getting her dressed and Oliver is in his swing sucking on his fingers.

“I don’t know, honey. I guess we’ll see when they come pick you up,” you kiss her head watching her pull on her socks.

That was the one request Ashton and Calum had for you and Luke; the girls had to wear shoes and socks. You had packed sunscreen, goldfish crackers, and some extra pull-ups for Posy in case she had an accident. She’s been doing really well going potty on the toilet but accidents happen. You packed an extra outfit and sweaters just in case and placed them in one of Luke’s backpacks.

You figured Ashton and Calum wouldn’t want to carry around the baby bag that you have.

“I ready! Let’s go!” Posy announces skidding to a stop in Lily’s doorway.

“Uncle Ash and Uncle Cal aren’t here yet, bug,” Luke laughs poking at her cheeks from behind.

The girls busied themselves with their toys as you and Luke made sure you had everything you needed for Oliver. Then there was a knock on the door followed by Petunia barking and the girls screaming in excitement running down the hall.

When it opens, Posy rushes to Ashton’s legs and Lily grabs hold of Calum’s hands pulling him inside the house.

“Hey, hey, let them get in the door,” Luke laughs entering the living room behind you.

Oliver woke up from the loud noises and you scooped him up into your arms, rocking him slightly until he calmed down.

“I want to be greeted like this everywhere I go,” Calum laughs, lifting Lily in his arms. “Are you ready for a day of fun, Lils?”

“Yes! Where are we going?” Lily asks.

“Up, up, up Unca Ash!” Posy is trying to climb her way up Ashton’s legs. He picks her up easily as well and pokes her nose.

“Hi little one,” he grins then turns to Lily. “It’s a surprise, but there’s rides, animals, and yummy food.”

You and Luke exchange a look. Rides?

“What kind of rides?” Luke asks, his eyes moving to Lily who’s always been the most cautious with certain things.

“A carousel and pony rides,” Calum eases.

“Ponies?” Lily’s eyes widened.

“Do not let them out of your sight,” Luke warns, lifting the backpack you packed and handing it to Ashton.

“We won’t. How long do you think you’ll be at the doctor’s?” Ashton asks. Calum moves forward towards you and gazes lovingly at Oliver.

“No idea. They’ll probably check his oxygen levels, weigh him, take some blood...a few hours at least,” you respond. “I packed extra clothes and some snacks for them.”

“We’ll be back before dinnertime,” Ashton informs. “You girls ready to go?”

“Bye mama! Bye Daddy!” Posy waves.

“Have fun and listen to your uncles, okay?” you tell them. “And hold their hands.”

“We will mama. Bye Olly!” Calum sets her back on the ground and she touches Oliver’s arm softly.

***

Ashton carries Posy along the grounds of where the circus is in town. There’s a train painted in bright colors with animals drawn all over it and clowns are walking around. Lily is holding onto Calum’s hand taking in all of the sights around her.

“Where should we go first?” Ashton asks, looking at the booths of face painting, jewelry, t-shirts, concessions, and games with colorful stuffed animals.

“Let’s just start on one end and work our way around,” Calum shrugs.

And so they did. First, they ordered a large lemonade that was shared amongst the four of them and looked at the animals. Lily and Posy wanted to feed them so Calum bought the food from a machine that usually holds pieces of gum. He took photos and videos of the girls laughing at the tickling sensation from the goats’ whiskers.

“Goats are pretty cute,” Ashton muses, scratching one on the head.

“No way are you going to get a goat,” Calum shakes his head.

“I want a goat!” Posy claps her hands.

“Ask your daddy that, little one,” Ashton giggles.

They wash their hands and look at the rest of the animals for a bit longer until Posy whispers something in Ashton’s ear.

“She needs to use the potty,” Ashton tells Calum with wide eyes.

“Oh, okay. Uhh…” Calum looks around but all he sees are portable ones. “Looks like those are our best option.”

“Those are disgusting,” Ashton crinkles his nose. “There has to be an actual bathroom somewhere. Let’s ask someone.”

Calum and Lily follow him to a worker and shockingly enough, there is an actual bathroom building but it’s way in the back.

“Can you hold it until we’re at the bathrooms, little one?” Ashton asks, already walking towards the back at a brisk pace. Calum and Lily follow.

They push through the crowds of people muttering their apologies. At long last, they’re in front of the building and thankfully see a door that’s labeled as ‘family’ restroom.

“Here we go,” Ashton says and Calum stops him.

“Do you even know what to do?”

“I’m not dumb, it can’t be that hard. Have some faith, man,” Ashton shakes his head and moves into the restroom.

Calum looks down at Lily who gives him a nervous smile.

“Do you think Uncle Ash will drop her in the toilet?” Calum asks and she giggles.

“I hope not. Dada always sings when she’s on the potty to help.”

Calum looks to the restroom door and approaches it. He knocks lightly.

“Occupied!”

“It’s me!” Calum shouts. “Lily says Luke sings to her to help her go.”

“Sings what?”

Calum looks down at Lily.

“Wheels on the bus.”

“Wheels on the bus!” Calum shouts.

“Got it! Thanks!”

Calum notices a bench against the wall and he pulls Lily onto his lap.

“You’re such a great big sister, you know that? You remind me of my big sister,” he says then realizes Mali hasn’t officially met the girls or Oliver.

“Who?”

“My big sister, Mali.”

“Mama showed me Mali! She sings pretty.”

“Yeah, she does,” Calum grins, “she’d love to meet you someday. I’ll see if she can come visit me soon.”

“Can we ride the ponies next?” Lily asks and Ashton comes out with Posy with a triumphant smile.

“Did it all go well, then?” Calum asks.

“She did such a good job,” Ashton praises and Posy is grinning like he is. “Your mama and daddy are going to be so proud of you, Posy.”

“Way to go Posy!” Calum and Lily clap their hands. “Lils wants to go on the pony rides next.”

“Then let’s go see some ponies!”

Calum and Ashton were able to walk alongside the ponies to make sure the girls didn’t fall off. There was a strap that could be secured around their waists. Calum held onto Lily who kept petting at the pony’s mane and neck as he strutted around the circle.

Ashton was speaking in a southern accent trying to sound like a cowboy and Posy was laughing the whole ride.

After the ponies, they had lunch which consisted of a slice of pizza and some fruit that was sold as a side. Games were next and Posy loved watching Ashton do the hammer one to test his strength. Her peels of laughter encouraged him to keep trying until he finally hit the bell at the top.

He asked Posy which toy she wanted as a prize and chose a purple looking monster with orange teeth and green hair. Lily looked at it apprehensively so Calum towed her along to the water games. She had a good shot with the water guns being aimed at the spinning target as it ascended up the pole, but she didn’t beat the buzzer.

“It’s okay Lils, let’s try this one over here.”

They walk over to the ping pong toss over small fish bowls while Ashton and Posy are throwing balls at glass bottles. Calum buys a bucketful of ping pongs and tries to help Lily with her throws. He loves how dainty she holds the white ball in her hand and she sticks her tongue out in concentration. One of her eyebrows quirks up and she looks so much like Y/N when she does it it throws Calum for a loop.

“Try not to aim for one certain one,” Calum says. “Just throw it and I’m sure you’ll make one in.”

“Okay…” Lily tosses a ball.

She and Calum watch it in slow motion as it hits one bowl then falls into the one next to it. Lily lets out a scream and Calum whoops in excitement as the attendant shouts out “WINNER TO THE LITTLE GIRL IN PINK!”

“I won! Unca Cal I won!” she jumps up and down clutching Calum's fingers.

“Way to go, Lils!” He congratulates and Ashton and Posy come by.

“What’s going on?” Ashton asks just as the attendant comes forward with a bag of water and a small pink fish.

“Lily won a fish,” Calum explains proudly and takes the bag.

“No way! Lily, that’s awesome!”

“I thought she’d like this pink one,” the attendant smiles.

“She loves pink, thank you,” Calum grins and bends down to Lily’s height. “What do you think, Lils?”

“He’s pretty,” she smiles, poking the bag lightly where the small fish is poking in the corner. “Will mama let me keep him?”

“I don’t see why not, you don’t have to walk them.”

“I love him. His name is Bruno.”

“That’s the perfect name,” Calum grins.

“Po, look at my fish.”

Posy scrambles down from Ashton’s arms and presses her nose to the bag.

“He’s tiny!” Posy crinkles her nose.

The rest of the day Calum carried Bruno and Lily would check on him periodically. Posy started to get fussy and they ended the day at the pet store to get some supplies for Bruno. The clerk informed them that Bruno was a male betta fish and about 6 months old.

Calum bought a small tank with gray stones and a lily pad for the fish to sleep on; Lily loved knowing that bit of information that betta fish like to nestle. He bought food and some colorful fake plants.

Ashton stayed with Posy in the car because she fell asleep on the ride to the pet store.

“He won’t...die right away will he?” Calum asks nervously as Lily inspects some more water accessories.

“No, as long as you feed him and change the water periodically he should live for about four years.”

“Four?”

“That’s the average lifespan of betta’s. He’ll be a good starter fish for her if she wants to get another one. When the time comes.”

Calum feels saddened by that because he doesn’t want Lily to be sad when the fish will die. But she’s so enamored by him there’s no way he’ll tell her any of this.

He’ll just tell Luke.

***

“Mama! Look what I got!” Lily runs through the door with Bruno in his bag. She stops in the kitchen where you’re making dinner, Oliver is held against you in the wrap around your body. “I won him! His name is Bruno and Uncle Cal got him a nice home and some food!”

“He did? Wow, he’s so pretty sweetie,” you smile looking at the pink fish.

“What’s with all the noise, is there a circus in town?” Luke asks, coming up from the stairs. “Hey bug, are you still sleepy?” He takes Posy from Ashton’s arms, Posy rests her head in Luke’s neck.

“Look dada! I got a fish!” Lily spins around and shows Luke Bruno.

“Oh wow, and he’s pink! Did you have fun at the circus?”

“Yeah, Po used the potty and won a monster. We had lemonade and pizza and cotton candy. Can Uncle Cal help me with Bruno’s tank?” Lily looks up at you and Luke.

“Absolutely. Thanks for buying everything Uncle Cal,” you smile at him and Lily runs to her room. Luke follows to put Posy down to finish her nap and Ashton crashes on the couch sighing heavily. “Busy day, huh?”

“I don’t know how you and Luke do it,” Calum shakes his head. “And now with three? You’re super human.”

“I’m just a mom.”

“You’re the best mom, lovie,” Luke reappears with a smile. “I take it you two are staying for dinner? Need us to bathe you and tuck you into bed as well?”

“The only one I’ll let bathe me is Y/N,” Ashton sighs, closing his eyes and you laugh loudly.

“Sorry mate, she’s all mine,” Luke gives you a kiss on the cheek and Calum goes to Lily’s room. “Can’t wait to spend the weekend with you, soon.”

Taglist: @calumance @in-superbloom @calpalirwin @karajaynetoday @wiiildflowerrr @sunshineeeluke @littledrummeraussie @suchalonelysunflower @hoodhoran @Fobodob @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @sunshineeashton @ashtonsunflower @mymindwide @itjustkindahappenedreally @seanna313 @fivesecondsofonedirection

Luke&Lily: @prentisswrites

#luke & lily #uncle!sos #uncle ashton #uncle calum #luke&lily oneshot #luke&lily fluff

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fancyfade · 3 years

Text

Okay, a lonely place of dying thoughts. This will be long

So, I just finished re-reading a lonely place of dying. before I get to far into it: This is specifically to analyze the way the character and information is presented to the reader. It’s not to say “so and so is a bad character” or “this is a bad plotline”.

Starting off: they were definitely playing it super safe for the comic reader when they introduced Tim. It feels as if he is introduced literally as an audience avatar. For a large portion of the time before we meet him, we literally are seeing through his eyes -- the panel is positioned so that we would be at his head height, looking at whatever he’s looking at. we never see him except for his hands (so the audience can presumably imagine themselves in his shoes).

this isn’t the way they usually frame unknown characters or characters whose identity is obscured to create an air of mystery -- and there’s an excellent comparison in this same plotline, because there is a character with their identity obscured, who was framed a different way

[image: first two panels are of two face, who is wearing a trench coat and a fedora that casts a shadodw and obscures his face so we cannot tell who he is. His face is completely in shadow. he is talking to someone behind him. he says "Tomorrow. The zwei brothers warehouse. Two am. Now go back to your wife. the fat lady's about to sing." in the next panel, we see him from behind. the back of his head is entirely in shadow to avoid giving us any hints as to who he is. the man he's talking to, Gerry sky, says "whatever it is -- later." two face says "now. 'payroll activation'" and gerry says "okay, okay -- now."

next there's a panel with the dialogue whited out. We still see two face, wearing gloves and having nearly all of his skin (except for his face, which is always in shadow) covered. First we look at him from above and he is small against a dark room with a bookshelf in the background. Then there's a closeup of only his gloved hand as he turns off the radio. We see him from behind (thighs up) as he stands in front of a window, then another shot of his gloved hand trying to touch the radio. and both his hands clench in fists. He hits the radio, breaking it (his body is still off screen except for his arm and hand) and then at his feet we see the broken radio. end image]

end image/begin commentary - Framing of two face on panel

Notice: The presumed “camera angle” is dynamic around Two face. We see him from multiple angles -- from both in front and behind. When we are looking at the same thing he's looking at, we are positioned behind him, like we're looking over his shoulder. the close ups on his hand are not positioned as if he's looking at his own hand and we are in his head pay special attention to the panel he's adjusting the radio on and the fourth panel of the page -- we're looking from the side of him or from behind him and under his elbow there.

Two face is our mysterious bad guy. This is how they visually frame a character they want an air of mystery around.

compare that to the framing around tim

[image: first, we are looking through a camera that is continuously taking pictures of Batman as he stumbles down a slide, walks shakily to his batmobile, and takes off. then the camera is lowered (we see the hand that is lowering the camera in the view, it is below us as if we were looking through this person's eyes) and put inside a duffle bag. after that, we see something in the conrer of the screen -- an arm wearing a jacket?) and puddles of blood, then a bike tire -- but not the rest of the bike, which is off panel -- cutting through the puddles of blood. next pages shows a bunch of internal monologue that has been blockedo ut. a series of batman and robin pictures from the newspapers and a picture of batman swinging on a line in a scrap book. (in the first panel, batman and robin looking victorious in pictures, the second panel some headlines: “batman attacks mom” and “batman on the rampage” and “batman collars dope ring”. the third a picture of reporters interviewing gordon captioned with “batman batters bandits”. we can see the hand grabbing this picture as if we were holding it.

then we appear to be behind whoever is on the page, looking at his elbow, as he opens up a drawer, then we're back "inside" his head again as he holds up a photo with the graysons (john, dick, mary) and the drakes (tim and his parents). 3 year old tim is sitting on 12 year old dick's leg. end image]

end image/begin commentary - Framing of Tim in Panel

okay sorry forgive me but this is fucking fascinating in my opinion. Notice that for two face, most of the close ups on his hands were specifically away from his point of view -- we weren’t positioned where his eyes were, but looking from the outside in.

For tim, we’re almost always looking through his eyes, contrasting to two face

and for tim, even when we were not looking through his eyes, in the very first page, he wasn’t even on panel -- we knew nothing about him, we just saw the edge of his bike. the second page we saw a bit of his arm but we never zoom out far enough to see his whole body and definitely not his face -- even if it would be obscured by shadow.

The first read through, I assumed they were going for an air of mystery, but the contrast between how they handle two face and tim to me makes it clear that they weren’t -- it might have been an unintended side effect, or a bonus effect, but it wasn’t the main purpose. The audience is literally viewing most of the panels Tim is in through Tim’s eyes. He is almost literally an audience avatar.

My general hypothesis here (which I think I am supplying proof of) is that Tim is intended to be an avatar in universe for the “average comic reader" (with some assumptions made by the writer about the average comic reader re: race, age, gender, socioeconomic class)

For more support of this, let’s see how Tim talks about batman and robin --

[image: 3 comic panels from batman 440 featuring newspaper clippings (in the first panel, batman and robin looking victorious in pictures, the second panel some headlines: “batman attacks mom” and “batman on the rampage” and “batman collars dope ring”. the third a picture of reporters interviewing gordon captioned with “batman batters bandits”. there is internal monologue from (the framing of the scene implies tim drake, but at this point he is unknown to the audience) reading “He seemed happier with dick. Now, I guess it’s like he just doesn’t care. But I want him to care again. I want him to be the batman I remember.” then, we have panels from the new titans 61 dick, as nightwing, is reaching in to talk to tim. he grabs tim's arm. dick says, “I don't believe this. that man raised me. I've gone through hell with him and because of him. Don't lecture me about him until you've cared for him and loved him as long as I have”. dick puts his helmet on and drives off on his bike. before leaving, he says "when jason died, he took robin with him." Tim cries and calls after him: "I... I was only thinking of the team... of what Batman and Robin meant! You can't let a legend die like that, Dick..." end image]

end image/begin comment - Tim’s perception of Batman & Robin

Notice in the first panels (with the newspaper clippings) that Tim is reminiscent, he specifically talks about ‘teh batman and robin’ that he remembers. The narrative puts more significance for tim on the fact that batman is not happy and he is not the batman tim remembers, rather than the fact that batman is beating people nearly to death (tim notices this, and it seems to be a “because batman is so clearly sad” thing -- which this is not I believe intended to be a commentary on tim’s priorities, since the general narrative seems to be using bruce’s ultra-violence as a sign he’s angsty).

Then, compare dick’s reaction to bruce with Tim’s.

Dick’s connection to Bruce is extremely personal. Bruce, Batman, whatever, is his dad and raised him and, like he said, put him through hell sometimes. His connection to Jason’s death is similarly personal.

Tim’s connection to Batman and Robin is extremely abstract and idealized. He is thinking of them as, say, a comics reader might think of them. As a crimefighting team who are not together anymore, and this is bad.

this is just bulletpoint 2 in “tim is supposed to represent the audience”, not intending to be a condemnation of tim.

Thirdly

[image: first, a comic panel from Batman 440 showing a close up of Tim’s hand as he reads a paper and him thinking ‘No! the haly circus is closing?’ then, a series of comic panels from the new titans # 60. first, we see mr haly (off screen) and his cigar (on screen) as haly gestures at a photo of the flying grayson's on the wall. then he says "Yeah. Cost us a fortune and brought down our selling price. You know, sometimes I sit here and just remember the good old days. We were barely breaking even back then, too -- but man, were we having fun. then, we see dick grayson wearing jeans and a red shirt, walking through the circus ground. first, he looks kind of dejected and his hands are in his pockets. the narration box reads "he leaves, trying to reconcile the past and the present. Kids grow up and change. but why should everything do the same? The animal cages stink with waste. Was it always this way? At times like now, he wishes for never-never land." then, dick turns as he hears something and says "Hunh? That scream?" end image]

end image/begin comment - Nostalgia as a Theme

Nostalgia is an EXTREMELY strong theme in this comic. Batman is different, he’s not like he used to be. Haley’s circus is different and at risk, but Dick goes back and meets the performers he used to know -- some are still the same, some are in a more rough situation (alcoholic clown). Someone’s trying to kill his friends in the circus, it’s not really a place of childhood innocence for Dick. Dick explicitly wishes to be in never-never land (the imaginary far off place where you never grow up)

How things should be -- both in Tim’s mind and Dick’s mind, Haly’s mind -- is the idealistic past, but we clearly can’t go back to it -- Dick says that the first thing Bruce taught him was how to grow up.

Next bulletpoint:

[image: first are some comic panels showing Tim Drake talking to Dick Grayson and Alfred Pennyworth in wayne manor. Tim says “You know, since I was able to read, I clipped every article I could about Batman and Robin. Heck, I used to fantasize about what it would be like to be robin. I study hard. I get mostly A’s. I work out. I’m no circus acrobat, but I’m pretty good, I guess. But mostly, I read aobut you two. You’ve both been so important to me in so many ways. And when I see that without Robin Batman is going off hte deep end, I know there’s serious trouble.” next, we see Dick stepping forward and talking to Tim. he says "But you haven't told me anything I don't already know. I want the rest of it. All of it." end image]

end image/ begin commentary - textually a fanboy

Textually, Tim is presented as a Batman and Robin fanboy -- that’s how he found Batman’s secret identity (link)

He studies Batman and Robin from afar. He reads about them. Kind of like a comics reader would. he wants to be Robin. Again, superhero comics have some wish fulfillment element and definitely wanting to imagine yourself in a character’s shoes is an appeal for many fans. Tim wanted to imagine himself in robin’s shoes and fantasized about being him -- there’s kind of two layers here, one is the presumed audience member reading tim, wanting to imagine themselves in his shoes as he interacts with his heroes, the other is tim, who wanted to imagine himself in dick’s shoes.

re: the second posted image in this set: Tim hasn’t told dick anything that dick doesn’t know, because tim doesn’t know anything dick doesn’t know -- he is the comic reader here. That’s also why he’s so up-to-date on all of the other comic character’s stuff -- we see him list off all of the teen titans, he talks about jason’s death casually, he knows that alfred is batman’s confident -- he pretty much has all of the information that a reader of DC comics would have if they just got beamed into the DC universe at this point.

[image: first, two panels, one showing tim smiling and thinking "Wow! And I thought Harry did it. Man, Dick is good". tehn we see dick holding some photos and talking ot tim, who is at his bike. dick says "These pictures, two face is back in town, isn't he?" Tim says "You can tell, just from them? Wow! You're even better than I thought." the next scene is in the batcave. Dick is nightwing and is about to leave on his motor cycle, alfred and tim are behind him. tim says "no, not nightwing, Dick. don't you understand -- Batman needs Robin!" he turns to look at alfred and says "Doesn't anyone understand?" Alfred says "Perhaps, young man. Perhaps master Dick understands profoundly -- perhaps that is why he brought you here." tim looks surprised. end image]

end image/begin commentary: The old robin’s approval

another very important thing here: DC plays it as safe as possible with tim’s introduction, trying to make the audience like him, and one is definitely establishing that Tim both looks up to dick and thinks he’s cool (first two panels) and that he has dick’s presumed approval/blessing to be robin (last three panels). it’s also important to note that while tim is portrayed as competent, he never shows up Batman and Nightwing -- he rescues them because two-face lured them into an expert trap, but he doesn’t outdo either of them on fighting or detective work. this has an in universe explanation -- he is 13 years old, just starting out -- and an out of universe explanation -- if he’s not showing up anyone’s favorite character, he is presumably more palatable and less threatening for the presumed reader.

that’s what i mean when I say taht DC played their intro of tim very safe -- he falls in with the established characters, already likes them, is practically already a fan of them with full fanboy connotations. The idealized past is presented as something as desirable, both to the reader and to the characters themselves, and there is a strong current of nostalgia and returning things to how they “should” be with Batman having a robin. Tim voices what many readers may feel: That batman lost his way, that he needs Robin, and he gets to act out those feelings in the comic. the text acknowledges that they can’t just force dick back into it, that people have to grow up, and dick passes the mantle to tim.

overall I think that tim’s employment here was effective, but I look forward to seeing more when he’s allowed to be himself rather than an audience avatar. I understand lots of people like audience avatars and he was wildly popular presumably for those reasons, but I personally found the plotline lackluster at points.

#okay here it is #fade reads dc comics #dc comics #a lonely place of dying #batman 1940 #dick grayson #tim drake #batfam #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #character meta #or more of like #comic meta

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

Text

Okay, long time followers will probably remember having read this, but I can’t find the original post and I’m trying to like.....force-reboot/jumpstart me working on my ‘Kings of the Sky’ AU again because I haven’t touched it in awhile and I have like literally eight different installments in various stages of completion and that’s ridiculous even for me. So here’s a repost of the first part of “Teachable Moments” the canon-divergence point of that AU series, where Jason calls Dick for advice after the Garzonas case and everything changes from there.

******

The way Jason Todd warily eyed the device in his hand, one might think it was an instrument of great and terrible destructive power, rather than just…his own personal cell-phone.

To be fair, he was Robin, and pretty used to the idea that even the most unlikely of things could be used for evil in Gotham. It could’ve been stolen and replaced at some point by a henchperson of Mr. Freeze, and using it could unleash some kind of cryogenic freeze ray that would turn him into a Robinsicle. Mad Hatter could be up to shit again, and dialing the phone at this very minute might mean syncing it up with a remote radio signal that would override his natural brainwaves and turn him into Tetch’s mindless minion of like…doom and stuff. Or…or…

Or sometimes, even in Gotham a phone is just a phone, and Freud is still a dumbass. And neither of the above possibilities had anything to do with why Jason was being a giant freaking pansy about entering the last digit of the phone number he would never ever admit to having had memorized for months now.

Nightwing had said to call if he ever needed to talk. He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t actually want Jason to call, right? Like, its not as if Jason had remotely been expecting him to do that, so its not the sort of thing someone did just because it was ‘expected’ or shit. He was pretty sure. Rich people manners were weird though. Had to factor that in.

But Nightwing had also even made a point to say not talking to people about stuff was Bruce’s problem and that Jason shouldn’t let it be his problem too, and even though months ago Jason had been a starry-eyed dumbass who was totally drunk on the Bruce is the Bestest Kool-Aid or whatever, ‘Wing had definitely known what he was talking about there. So maybe he’d get it, and having this conversation with him wouldn’t be. Like. The actual worst idea in the history of ever.

Deductive logic said that Jason was getting worked up over nothing and there was no rational reason for him to be this nervous about dialing a fucking phone number. And he’d gotten pretty good at the whole deduction shit, given all the work he and Bruce had put into training his mind to view the world through entirely new paradigms, so Jason was pretty sure his math on that checked out. But on the other hand, Bruce was a hypocritical asshat that Jason was currently not speaking to, so what the fuck did he know about anything?

Aaaaand he was back to square one. Well damn. This was excellent. Very productive. Good hustle out there, Jay.

Sighing gustily, Jason flopped back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and trying to pretend he hadn’t gotten used to how luxurious and cushion-y his ridiculously expensive mattress was. He’d gotten soft, he told himself. Then he scoffed at the idea that the past year and a half of rigorous Robin training and patrols had made him less tough than the pipsqueak he’d been back when living on the street, getting his ass kicked by bigger and badder on the regular. That hadn’t been hardness, that had been bravado.

But it had gotten him this far in life, so maybe there was something to be said for it after all?

Ugh. Decisions were hard. He objected on principle. He also really wanted to understand why he was this nervous…if he could literally fill the guy’s shoes and kick supervillain ass as Robin, what freaking sense did it make that he couldn’t even call him up on the phone?

Maybe you just know better than to ask him questions you don’t really want to hear his answer to, a smug voice said in the back of his mind. It sounded suspiciously like Willis Todd, which was all kinds of weird and fucked up, cuz Jason was damn sure his abusive a-hole of a deadbeat dad had never said anything that insightful in his life.

Which meant it was his own screwed up subconscious - presenting in the voice of his not so dearly departed douchebag dad, no less - that had Jason reacting out of spite, entering the last number and hitting Talk, all while totally on autopilot. Because apparently we’re all making healthy life choices in this Chili’s tonight, Jason snickered somewhat hysterically while his phone rang once, twice, three times.

Ugh. Was he always this fucked up in the head and he just never noticed, or was it a side effect of running around rooftops in a cape. Inquiring minds wanted to know.

“Hello?” Someone said then, answering on the fourth ring. Jason sat bolt upright, his nervous humor vanishing as quickly and unexpectedly as it’d hijacked him in the first place. For all that he’d only actually interacted with the older man a few times, his voice was instantly recognizable. As was his slight confusion.

Right. Because why would Nightwing have the untraceable number of the latest burner phone Bruce had given Jason, when the ever paranoid Bat had him swapping out phones every freaking week? Duh, Jay.

“Uh, its me,” Jason said hastily, as if he could somehow catch up to and overtake the epically long ten second silence he let lapse before his mouth started making words again. “Jason?”

“Jaybird! Hey! What’s going on?” The older vigilante’s tone instantly morphed into one of surprised delight, so apparent even across the phone that Jason actually pulled it away from his ear and stared at it, as if that could explain Nightwing’s inexplicable giddiness. He’d literally only met the dude three times. Give or take a concussion he was forgetting about maybe? Weird.

Then again, the older man was a circus performer from birth. Might just be good at faking being super excited to hear from people? Whatever. Still weird.

“Uh, you said to call if I was ever having, I dunno, issues with Bruce I guess? So I kinda had a question? I mean, if you’re not busy or anything.”

Just one question? Willis’ voice asked snidely, echoing in time with the rapid tripartite beat of Jason’s heart. Since apparently everything Jason said was trying to come out with a question mark attached to the end of it at the moment. Ugh, fuck you, subconscious, Jason thought forcefully, even as he ransacked the recesses of his mind for that bravado he was thinking about earlier. It had to be in here somewhere…

“No worries dude, I’ve got time. Hit me!” Nightwing said cheerfully. His lighthearted cadences were so at odds with the sweat suddenly breaking out on Jason’s forehead, the younger teen couldn’t help but wince in anticipation of its inevitable change once he got his actual question out. This was a bad idea, he decided, way too fucking late for it to make a difference. He had a hunch Nightwing wouldn’t be content to ‘just forget it’ or whatever even if Jason chickened out now.

So he took a deep breath, shrugged and did what Jason Todd did best. Said fuck it, put pedal to the metal, and drove at full speed for the metaphorical police barricade that was his way of picturing all the things telling him He Should Definitely Just Not.

“Do you think I’m someone who could kill somebody in like, cold blood?”

Aaaaand there went the lightheartedness. Well, he’d definitely stone cold killed that, Jason thought grimly into the silence that followed.

“Huh,” Nightwing said at last. “You’re gonna have to give me a second to switch gears here, Jay. I was kinda expecting something along the lines of ‘how do I avoid Bruce giving me the safe sex talk.’”

Jason flushed and nodded jerkily, not that the older man could see it. Still, it’d been enough of a workout just getting to this point. He didn’t trust what might come out of his mouth next if he kept trying to force it. Thankfully Nightwing didn’t make him wait too long before continuing.

“I think anyone’s capable of killing somebody in the right circumstances,” Jason’s predecessor began carefully. Except that was not remotely what he wanted to hear. Or helpful.

“I’m not looking for platitudes,” Jason grit out, not angry at the other vigilante so much as the whole fucked up mess and his inability to think about anything else at this point. “It’s just a simple fucking question. You’ve met me, do you think like, I’d be capable of just killing somebody or not.”

“I’m not offering platitudes,” Nightwing continued calmly, as if he wasn’t phased by the younger boy’s interruption or sudden aggression at all. “And its not a simple question at all. Speaking from experience, most people wouldn’t think of an eight year old as a cold-blooded killer, but that’s what I could have been if Bruce hadn’t stopped me from killing my parents’ murderer when I first tracked him down. And yet that’s still totally different from when I held a gun on Two-Face barely a couple years later, about to shoot him because somebody else told me to, and because I wanted to hurt him like he’d hurt me. Wouldn’t you agree those are two different situations and two different ‘kinds’ of cold-blooded killer? Context is kinda a big deal here.”

Huh. First off…what the fuck? Jason stared blankly up at the ceiling, trying to hurry up the processing functions of his brain because, again, what the fuck? He was like ninety nine percent positive none of that had been in the Dick Grayson Is The Greatest and Here Are All The Reasons Why brochure he’d had read to him every time someone new found out he was Wayne’s newest stray, and like. Uh. Yeah, that part would have definitely stood out. Because once more, with feeling:

“What the fuck?”

Oops. That hadn’t been supposed to be out loud. Bad mouth. Bad.

Nightwing just did a weird kinda half laugh half sigh combo. Rueful, Jason would describe it, if he were describing it to someone else, which it kind of felt like he was, relaying the conversation to himself now that it’d taken a hard right turn into the surreal.

“Blindsided you with that, huh? Sorry, should’ve figured neither of those are the kinda stories Bruce would want to share with you. Then again, I don’t really have any idea what Bruce has told you about me.”

“Not much,” Jason admitted. Which was a major source of irritation, if he was being honest. The much sung praises of Dick Grayson came from literally everyone he met except for Bruce. Who usually just got a pinched expression whenever Jason brought him up, and a rapid subject change that was not nearly as subtle as Bruce seemed to think it was.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Nightwing sighed. “I hope you haven’t put too much stock in anything else you’ve heard about me then. I’ll admit to a bad habit of enjoying my mystique, so secondhand hearsay tends to lose my best nuances.”

Despite himself, Jason’s lips curved up and he let out a rueful huff of his own. “I mean, this definitely isn’t where I saw this conversation going.”

The older man chuckled. “Thought I was going to just assume the worst and chuck the book at you?”

“Well. Yeah.” Jason shrugged, even though he knew it wouldn’t come across. “Bruce did.”

Nightwing heaved an exasperated breath. “Yeah, that’s kinda the thing about B. Sometimes, he’s great. Other times, he’s an ass. Its kinda an either or thing. He’s never really mastered the art of finding a midpoint between two extremes. Mostly because he’s never seen the point of aiming for middle ground.”

“Well its not like he’s ever really had to,” Jason griped. It just slipped out before he could stop it, leaving him feeling guilty for bad-mouthing B when he wasn’t around to defend himself. Especially since he knew Nightwing wasn’t the guy’s biggest fan these days. But he couldn’t deny it also felt good, in a way.

To his surprise, Nightwing just laughed. And not even in a malicious, spiteful kind of way, but almost relieved.

“God, thank you. You’d think that ‘hey, so my billionaire guardian kinda has entitlement issues’ would be a water is wet kind of revelation, but try saying something like that to pretty much anyone else…”

“And they look at you like you’re an ungrateful asshole?” Jason finished for him. Not that he’d ever actually tried saying that to anyone before, though he’d definitely thought it a time or two. But he could all too easily imagine the reactions he’d get, which was pretty much why he’d never gone so far as to speak the words.

“Yup,” Nightwing drawled, dragging out the p and popping it with emphasis. “And its not about being grateful or not, its just…there are some parts of everyone that just aren’t up for grabs, for other people to weigh in on or take charge of, you know? And a lot of people just don’t get that…because nobody’s ever tried it with them, or had to deal with expectations that…overstep, let’s call it?”

“Is that why you left?”

Jason winced the second it left his mouth. Too far. Definitely way too far, but he’d just gotten unexpectedly comfortable with the back and forth, and now he’d done the overstepping thing himself and was left with just dead air.

But ten seconds of heavy silence stretched into twenty, and went no further, as Nightwing sighed into his side of the phone again.

“The spiteful part of me wants to say it was more of a push than me just up and leaving,” he laughed again, but this time with unmistakable bitterness. “But even while that’s true, its not really the right answer to your question, because no matter how much of a clusterfuck that was at the time, its not…I mean, I knew at the time how to fix it. Where and how I needed to cave in order to make up with him and let things get back not quite to normal, but at least close enough.”

The pause wasn’t as heavy or tense this time, as Jason could almost sense the older man gathering his thoughts, trying to put them into words. He bit his lip rather than risk any more unexpected utterances escaping. This might not have been where he’d thought his phone call would lead, but now that he was here, hearing the answers to questions he’d wanted to ask for over a year and finding them almost comfortably familiar, he wasn’t going to risk distracting Nightwing or shutting him up for well. Anything.

“But it would have meant me caving. Settling in ways that I just…couldn’t. So in a way, yeah, I did leave, it was still my choice. And all of that was definitely a big part of it. I love Bruce, I do. I just couldn’t live with him anymore. Not without feeling like I had to give up my own autonomy and just be what he wanted. Or what he’d expected me to grow up to be, back when he first took me in. And as grateful as I am to him for that, I can’t honestly say I would have stuck around back then if I knew that was the price tag attached. I’m not…I don’t do well with people trying to force me to stick to one place, one thing. I was born on the road, you know? When I was a kid, I expected to spend the rest of my life living like that. Home was people. Not places. And so Gotham…its never fit me quite right, the way it does him, or even Barbara. Its not like I was miserable there, its just.”

“It wouldn’t have been your first choice,” Jason finished again, quietly. There was silence again for awhile.

“No. No, it wouldn’t have been. Not then.”

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