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#it still wouldn't so much as make you consider the thought they might have a point
createdbytragedy · 3 days
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MY GIRLFRIEND (3),(2),(1)
Pairing: Choi Beomgyu x reader Genre: Fluff, crack, established relationship Warning: Mention of marking, Gyu loves being marked with lipstick, that's it, i think A/N: This was a bit rushed and not my best work. I might edit it but bear with me right now
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Beomgyu ironically considered himself an introvert.
That would be the biggest bullshit you and the members have ever heard. Him? An introvert? It was like his mouth was running from a battery that could never tire out! At least that was what Yeonjun said. You never mind the way Beomgyu blabbers. It was, in fact, the thing that made you fall in love with him. And right now it's also the reason you were in trouble.
It was common for Beomgyu to talk about you to his members and anyone within the radius of 10 feet and most of the time, it wasn't much of a problem. Not that anyone ever said it wasn't a problem at all. But it was getting hard trying to shut his mouth infront of the cameras. They needed to live a rather heedful life than the normal people but in the end, they were still humans. One among us. So, You can excuse Beomgyu for accidentally letting your name slip every once in a while, right?
In an interview
"Beomgyu - ssi, I personally love your necklace. Where did you get it?"
"Oh, I love it too!! it's so pretty, right?! my girlfriend--," a loud slap on his thighs made him hiss and stop mid sentence to glare at the boy beside him. "Me, me. I bought it for him! I'm the girlfriend!! Beomgyu and I have been dating since our trainee days, right Gyu?," Yeonjun asked, glaring at the male through a fake smile plastered across his face. "I wouldn't date you even if you were the last girl standing on earth......," Beomgyu muttered under his breath, rubbing at his thighs where there was a noticeable red handprint of Yeonjun. "You wanna say that louder, Jagi, it didn't quite reached the camera," Yeonjun said through gritted teeth, squeezing the boy's thighs and purposefully digging his fingernails into his skin. Beomgyu hisses, making eye contact with Yeonjun who innocently smiled at him ," I was saying, thank you," Beomgyu's hands rested on his knee, pinching the skin with his oh, so long nails ," very much for the necklace, Hyung," he smiled, seeing how Yeonjun's face scrunched up in pain, " but, I think you it messed up because someone else got this for me." "We have no idea what they're doing." Taehyun commented, looking at the camera. With Beomgyu's carelessness, your relationship was at risk of publicity. But, can you really stay mad at him when he looks at you like that? With those big, brown, puppy like eyes, saying he's sorry and that he'll be careful next time. How can you not give into that? It should've been no surprise when you come across his new Instagram post. Beomgyu was not sorry about his actions at all. He have always wanted to reveal his relationship with you. Wanted to show the world that you're his and he's yours. He was intentionally dropping hints.' Accidentally' mentioning your name, showing off your matching necklace, wearing low necklines to make sure the red lipstick stain on his collarbone was vaguely shown. He wanted to tell the world he was taken and you were off limits. And maybe this time, he really let his heart win. The picture was taken by him. Both of you staring at each other instead of the camera, lost in each other's eyes. His face was covered with your lipstick stain because Beomgyu loves being marked. And the photo itself was enough the shake the world. And for once, you didn't care about the consequences of his action, instead smiling when his name popped in your notification. MY LOVE <3 "Oops, sorry, accidentally posted that. Didn't mean to :(" "But, don't we look cute?" "Kinda want you to come over and mark my face all over again." Well, you could read the comments and think about the aftermath later. Right now you had priorities. You thought as you took your lipstick out from the drawer and headed for the door.
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Saw your requests were open so thought i'd give it a shot for the Obey Me crew.
Depsite the game, imagine an MC that will avoid conflict, either by appeasing or avoiding, just any way to not argue or fight with anyone. What would that look like?
Thanks for the request!!! I tried my best to do your request justice, but I didn’t really know how you wanted me to write it. (ಥ _ ಥ) So, if you do ask for anymore requests, please tell me the format {I think that’s what it’s called at least.} you’d like, THANK YOU!!! {Oh! And spoilers for Obey Me.} 
If MC was like this and was actually successful, it would definitely change the whole story. Like in lesson 4 when MC was trying to find a way into the attic by taking Levi’s TSL soundtrack and giving it to Lucifer to distract him. I feel like this MC could maybe find some way to get the soundtrack without setting Levi’s demon form off and without injuring their wrist. (But at the same time that needs to happen so Levi makes a pact with MC, right?)  Although that's only if MC is actually good at avoiding conflict which I doubt considering the story. Poor MC. I also don't think MC would be able to avoid DEATH in lesson 16 since like how are you supposed to avoid that. So, in summary, MC would probably be able to get past some stuff but most things I don’t think are really avoidable.
Lucifer would definitely like this MC at the start compared to our normal MC. I mean the whole reason Lucifer didn’t like MC at first was because they were too noisy and troublesome. He probably still wouldn't really like this MC, but he'd probably like them more than our usual MC, at least a little bit.
Mammon’s feelings wouldn't really change for this MC. In my professional opinion. He’s just a simp and if your name is MC you're a victim of his simping. Just like Lucifer and most of the other brothers, he would probably like this Mc a bit more at the very start before he catches feelings but he would also think this MC is a little bit of a wimp.
As I’ve said before, if this MC could avoid the whole lesson 4 situation, Levi and MC might have a better relationship at the start but at the same time I have no idea how MC would be able to make a pact with Levi without the whole incident. (I honestly don't have much to say about Levi or Satan since I don’t really focus on him a lot, sorry Levi fans.) 
Satan would definitely get along with this MC. If MC avoids conflict, then there's less things to make Satan mad. Happy Satan = Happy times. 
With Asmo I doubt anything would really change much. I mean, this is Asmo we're talking about. There hasn't been any moments where I feel like a MC like this would change much between them. (At Least from where I’m at in the game.) He would still love MC no matter what they’re like. 
Once again with Beel I don’t think much would change….. Actually, scratch that. In lesson 4-5 MC probably would not eat Beel’s custard even under Mammon’s pressure so Beel wouldn't go demon mode on them. So, that would change the story a little bit.
Now Belphie is a special case. MC can’t avoid conflict if Belphie has any chance of getting out of the attic, so that's why I think MC would try to avoid conflict but wouldn't really be effective. And if Belphie’s is out of the attic that means MC dies, they can’t really do anything about that. So, I doubt anything would really change at all in their relationship whatsoever. MC still has to get traumatized for THE PLOT!
I kinda rushed this because I was like “OH NO!!! I still haven't done any of the requests yet! I need to finish at least one NOW!!!” So, apologies if there are spelling mistakes or it’s not the best, I tried. I also haven't really played Obey Me in a little while until recently, so I was having a hard time “capturing” the brothers' personalities...? But I hope it was at least kind of decent. And if anyone would like me to redo this with a different writing format or whatever, please tell me.  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
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a-b-riddle · 19 days
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Part Four
Can't stop thinking about reader losing her cool.
"So we're closed, John." You said, trying to be cordial.
"Is that all you have to fucking say?" He practically growled before huffing. A humorless chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "I suppose not since you won't respond to any of us."
"Don't do that." You said taking a step back. Trying to create some distance between you and him. John would never physically hurt you. That much you knew.
"What?" He asked. His voice rising as he stepped closer to you. "Be angry that you pulled that shit and then left? Stopped talking to us. Changed your fucking locks. Last thing we even knew about you was that you got on a fucking plane and left. Even your friends wouldn't tell us anything besides that you were okay." "Which considering this came out of bloody nowhere, I find it highly unlikely that you are in any way 'okay'."
You took a deep breath. You wouldn't be intimidated. You wouldn't clam up. You wouldn't cry. You won't go back on your decision. You will be cordial and polite and not unleash everything you want to.
"I understand you might be upset, but it's for the best. It wasn't working out and I wanted to end on somewhat good terms. I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice and stopped speaking to me in that way." You could barely recognize your voice. It sounded so scripted. So robotic. But it was something you had been telling yourself. Excuses you had been telling yourself.
Because if you told yourself the truth. The picture you would paint would tell a different story. It wouldn't highlight the fact that John spoke to you like he was one of your men or that Johnny had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. It wouldn't show what a flake Kyle was or that Simon was well and truly a mean-spirited person.
It would show how you weren't worth it. Four possible men. Four possibilities of happily ever after and none of them chose you. That no one ever did and no one ever would. You weren't worth it. You weren't loveable.
It wasn't right, but it was what the voices had been telling you late in the night. When you would crawl into your cold bed. The silence of the room not filled with John's steady breathing or the sound of Kyle's heartbeat as you laid you head on his chest. The absence of Johnny's occasional snoring or whatever Simon was watching playing in the background of your dreams.
In the void, all your dark thoughts came back at you.
"Upset?" He asked, his voice still louder than you would have liked. "An understatement considering the stunt you pulled."
"You think it was a stunt?"
"So Johnny thought with his dick and didn't plan things out. You should have told him instead of crying to Simon and then pulling this shit." "Christ, I knew you were still young, but I didn't take you for that immature."
"You know what?" "I'm done." "I am so fucking sick of making excuses for you all." "You want to act like I'm the immature one, John?" "You are 35-year-old man who cannot separate his work from his work like. You have continuously talked to and down to me like I am one of your men, only to turn around and always blame your shitty fucking attitude on work. I get that your job is stressful, but I did not sign up to be your verbal fucking punching bag."
"And this come and fucking go incident with Johnny. It has been a consistent issue with him coming over just to fuck. I've asked him for that last six months that 'hey, we've been seeing each other for a year and a half, I would love to meet your family' and suddenly the dates stop. He doesn't ask to see me until after 7 PM. He brings food occasionally, fucks me and leaves. Sometimes before I even wake up."
"And the only reason Kyle is the person I am the least pissed off with is because I haven't even seen him." You took a step closer, not noticing how the anger in John's eyes had softened. "I have not seen Kyle in weeks, to no fault of my own. I stopped reaching out to make dinner plans after the third time he canceled on a date night when I was either on my way or already at the restaurant."
"And Simon?" You scoffed. "Well, it doesn't really matter. After all, as he said I get mine. You all make me cum which is supposed to magically erase how shitty you've all been as partners. It's supposed to erase the nights I've cried myself to sleep debating on whether or not there was something wrong with me. How I'm not good enough to meet anyone else in your lives like some dirty fucking secret. How none of you can even bother to pencil me for a group dinner so I can tell you a publishing house picked up my book. How at some point you all stopped caring or maybe never did."
You took a breath. Blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay.
You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't cry.
"As Simon said it best, I should have known that spreading my legs wouldn’t end with one of you putting a ring on your finger.”
For once, John was silent. Unsure of what to say. An apology starting to form at the tip of his tongue before realizing 'sorry' wouldn't cut it. Not this time.
Had he really been that sharp with you? He knew that there were times he had gotten short, but he almost always apologized immediately after. If not at the very moment he took in your crest-fallen face, then definitely later. But he almost always told you he was sorry. Didn't he?
"So as I said," you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I'm closed. We're done. Now get out." Your face held no sadness. Even though your eyes were nearly full to the brim with unshed tears, you weren't sad.
You were finally angry.
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kalims · 3 months
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scribbles
"( – ⌓ – ) ⎯⎯ he lets you draw on his skin, yeah thats pretty much it.
ft. malleus, vil
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malleus
it was... a breach of your patience.
the lesson, was awfully boring. the more you listened to the apparent 'heroic' doings of certain individuals. the more it strips away your attentiveness to the words spilling out of professor trein's mouth. no matter how many times you will your ears to make out the incoherent lecturing of the man... it remains deaf.
so you decide to sate said boredom.
how? of course you need to bother your seatmate!
your intentions remained within the circle of yourself of course. your eyes stuck to the stray marker over your paper so you silently twisted the cap off and scribbled on your paper—then it was your palm—and now, malleus' arm.
"child of...?" man. malleus finishes in his mind, his attention suddenly snapped away at the sudden tug of his arm. definitely not his own decision to even make it move in the first place. usually it would remain stiffly beside his body like usual and even if someone tried to pry it to them it would remain still. but without his attention, his body lets you.
without another word. you peel open his fingers, palm open to you and it's a notion he allows. and he stays silent when you tug his gloves off. perhaps with a curious huff, malleus drifts closer to you. to accommodate your actions that he's yet to get an explanation for.
... and suddenly there's very bright flowers drawn on his palm.
said owner of the palm might just be toe darkest person in the room so it's quite out of place.
but it's from you so he likes it.
he peeks at it, with a fond smile on his face. I should enchant it to remain there forever. he thinks to himself, the curve of his lips growing wider at his thoughts, like he'd proud of the idea. the idea of being able to carry around something made exclusively by you might as well shove him into a cannonball and send him to cloud nine.
it's adorable. you're adorable.
his world grows a little more blue the more he stares at you. and if it weren't for the searing glances the professor sends your way malleus would just let his eyes engrave you into his memory forever, so he laments over it and reluctantly peels his gaze off you. mind speaking a thousand memories, the very same reason he somehow can't hear anything trein says.
you draw a strange looking lizard beneath his ring finger, one that looks a little like him and he thinks that you're asking him for marriage.
that can be arranged... he ponders, oblivious.
vil
drawings, doodles, painting— art. a reflection of the soul.
vil is great at makeup.
every brush on your face, a step to beauty. that is his reflection. you are his soul. he wants to make you look—no, make you feel like you're beautiful cause the canvas he's standing in front of is his greatest piece of art, he'd want to put you on the tallest pedestal there is. the grandest one just so the rest knows your beauty is parallel to none, something they can see and admire but not reach.
but he also wants to keep you in his own room, because only he knows what he felt when he painted you. only he should be the one given the grace.
this... he doesn't know what to consider.
perhaps vil should be bothered, if not then a little peeved at the several colors across his skin. a myriad of doodles, some words, and some simple drawings. a poor portrait of him is drawn next to one he assumes yours, the 'fairest' word on the right side of his hand, and flowers.
he's sure though. you're definitely no artist.
the thought cracks a smile at him, and you steal a glance midst the cool tip of the pen dancing along his skin. "I'd thought you wouldn't even let me do this," you admit, chair having been moved over closer to him so you wouldn't have any leaning problems. a suggestion by vil you gratefully took up, though you doubt it was just another excuse to have you closer.
"why?"
"dunno," you shrug. "it looks unseemly compared to you."
he huffs, flashing you a light smirk. "so my face is, hmmm..." vil ponders for a moment, and your face twists to the realization that you possibly just exposed what you think. but you suppose it isn't really a problem since it was basically common sense that vil is...
"gorgeous." you finish for him.
his aura brightens. (probably will be for the rest of the week.)
your hand retracts from him, the marker gripped between your fingers. and he takes a look at your 'art.' he doesn't know if he should consider it as one since there are a heap of sloppy lines, and the color bleeds into his skin. some smudges that you accidentally brushed against that makes it seem like a messy picture of chaos.
vil strives for perfection, but it's only natural there are flaws. to love oneself, you must love all parts. and to love you, he loves whatever the ink on his skin is.
well, what the heck.
"pass it to me," he stretches his hand, and you quirk a brow. questioning but curious so he indulges you. "I'll show you how it's done."
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note. ngl idk what I wrote for vil it's currently 12 AM rn ☠ <- newer note, this has been rotting in my drafts for weeks and I couldn't decide whether to post it cause I wasn't sure about vil's but here hehehe
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Of Oblivious Minds (4)
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Angst
a/n: Thank you for reading and sorry for the wait!! I hope you enjoy :) Let me know what you think ❤️
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
~~
You were leaving today, and suddenly—with your bags at your feet and the air around you filled with stagnant silence—a few days seemed so juvenile. So… inconsequential in the grand scheme. 
You would leave, and when you returned everything would be the same. Azriel would still love another and you would still be left with the bleak realization that you had spent the last few centuries denying a love that you knew to be fruitless. 
Nothing would change if you were to be gone only a few measly days. 
But if you were to be gone a month? A year, even? 
Much of your work for Rhysand could be done from afar, especially with the library in Day Court. Helion wouldn’t mind; he’d asked you to consider an extended stay in the past. And maybe there could even be something there, something to take your mind off of your true home. 
The home that wasn’t Velaris. 
You saw him every time you closed your eyes. His rare smiles, his even rarer laughs; you saw the way his watchful eyes skated across every room you entered and reminisced on each twitch of his hands—the way you could feel it against your fingers when you grabbed for him in the busy streets of Velaris. 
Azriel was inescapable, even when you battled against your vision and attempted to drift to sleep. 
He was everywhere, everything. 
But he wouldn’t be in Day Court, and although that wouldn't stop your thoughts, it would be something. It would be distance. 
With a flick of your wrist, you sent your bags away to Day Court and heaved in an uncomfortably large breath. You knew he would do little to deny you, but you still needed to ask Rhys. He was your High Lord and employer, above all your friend, and you knew it would take a little persuading. 
Maybe tears. Yes, tears were very moving and equally as conjurable at the moment.
It only took one step before the knock on your door left you still. Your shoes made a dent in the carpet and you could hear him breathing on the other side of the ornately carved wood. You could always tell when it was Azriel. 
You shifted your weight from one knee to the next, gripping your skirts at the thigh. Azriel knocked again, this time in a faster pattern—more rushed. 
You bit into your lip. You hadn’t planned to see him again, not before you left. You would deal with the repercussions of such an act later on, but not now. Not when you had finally gotten your emotions under control for long enough to have a conversation with Rhys. 
It made sense to you now why you had repressed this for so long. 
The sound of your voice was startling. “Come in.” 
The door creaked, but the sound was overpowered by Azriel’s boot clicking against shining marble. The shadowsinger entered before his shadows, but the wisps followed close behind, quickly abandoning their master in favor of darting toward you. They twisted up your legs and elbows, rolling into your hair and dancing along your fingertips. 
Something like fear, love, crushing defeat tugged and tugged at your chest. 
“Azriel,” you greeted, aiming for a surprised tone and failing. “Have you come to see me off?” 
The spymaster didn’t smile. “Rhys sent me. He said you might have a message for him.” 
That cauldron-damned meddler. Of course he somehow knew about your reservations. You doubted he knew exactly what you had to say, but you had been dragging your feet all morning and were currently about an hour late for your own departure. 
And of course he had sent Azriel of all people. 
“Oh! Well, I suppose I could go and—” 
“Why is half of your vanity gone?” 
You blinked, startled by the words. If Azriel was anything, he was polite and never one to cut someone off. You went to search Azriel’s expression but found him zeroed in on the table pushed into the corner of your room. 
“What?” It was all you could think to formulate. 
But Azriel was quick to respond. “Almost all of your things are gone. Your perfumes and the pots of cream you keep on the side. You’ve only left the items you don’t use anymore.” 
“How do you know—” you cut yourself off this time, ignoring the glaring question that tried to blind you. “Azriel, I’m going away… to Day Court. You know this.”
But Azriel only shook his head, stalking over to the table and yanking the drawer open so harshly it shook the mirror. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he went to your closet, throwing open the door, shoulders rising and falling with more effort. 
“Azriel—” 
“You’ve packed too much.” He turned to you, some of his shadows returning to wind around his chest. “You’ve taken most of your clothes.” 
“You know I always overpack,” you laughed, but the laugh sounded fake, painful. 
You fought the urge to cower under Azriel’s scrutinizing gaze. It was as if he was on fire, as if he was aflame and filled with something that had been pent up for far too long. If someone, anyone, were to look inside of you, they would see the same thing. 
Which is why you needed to get far, far away from this situation. Away from him.
But the longer you looked back at him—the longer you tried to slap that easygoing smile on your face—the longer he stared back with the same steady intensity. 
“Is something the matter?” you tried. 
Azriel’s hand twitched. 
That feeling crept along the edges of your ribs once again. 
“Is something the matter?” he parroted, jaw so impossibly tight the words came out pinched. 
You finally looked away, playing with your fingers. “Yes?” 
He started laughing. But it wasn’t the kind of laugh that made you feel light. It didn’t fill you with pride for eliciting such a sound from him, nor did it make you want to laugh in return. It made you feel dark; as Azriel laughed, you wanted to heave the sound back within the depths it flowed from. 
“There are several things that are the matter, y/n, but I’d say the most pressing is that you have been avoiding me for weeks. That every moment I’ve tried to spend with you has been promptly evaded and now you’re leaving and you had no intention of saying goodbye.” 
“I was going to—” 
“Please,” he pleaded, eyes soft yet so achingly desperate. “Don’t lie to me. Not right now.” 
The indent in the carpet was becoming permanent; you couldn’t seem to move. 
“I’ve been… I’ve been going through a hard time. Leaving seemed like it was the best for me. Just for a little while. Just until I could sort a few things out.” 
“For how long?” he asked, voice cracking along the precipice of the last word. 
You paused then, staring hard into his eyes. “A while.”
A shaky breath left the shadowsinger, his chest reflecting the sound. He ran a hand into his hair and tugged at the roots, an action you hadn’t seen him do in years. A sickening sort of pity ran through you—a sort of responsibility. 
Because Azriel was your friend, and he was going through something, too. You had no idea if his mate reciprocated his feelings. You found it hard to believe that anyone wouldn’t love Azriel, but the conversation you’d overheard last week gave nothing away. 
Maybe Azriel hadn’t told her yet because she didn’t love him. And maybe you were being a bad friend by not being there for him. 
Tossing your hurt to the side, you took a step forward. Azriel watched the movement, eyes flickering behind you to catch the previous imprint of your feet on the carpet. 
“I’m sorry,” you began, resolute. “I’m sorry that you felt you couldn’t tell me. And that you’ve been… having a hard time. I know I’m not leaving at the most opportune time, but you can write to me and I can help you.” 
Some of the brokenness on Azriel’s face morphed into confusion. “Help me?” 
“With your mate.” 
And it was as if Azriel had been shot. He physically recoiled, his right foot coming down to catch him as he fixed his imbalance. 
“I know you wanted to keep it private, but I overheard. Azriel—” You swallowed. Hard. “—It’s so wonderful that you’ve found your mate.” 
Something was set in motion, and Azriel was shaking his head. His gaze was fixed on you and his eyebrows were pushed together in a painful expression and he just kept shaking his head as your chest caved and it became hard to breathe. Something pulled from within and it felt like your heart was unraveling. 
Couldn’t he see how hard this was? How much it took from you just to acknowledge that he was destined for someone else? 
The shadowsinger seemed unaware of your inner turmoil, instead taking long steps across the room until he reached you. He leaned down, brought his hands up to your face, and he broke another piece of you as his forehead touched yours. 
He was whispering something, words so low even your fae ears couldn’t catch them, but you knew they were fast. Fast and incoherent and you weren’t even able to find their meaning in his expression because his eyes were squeezed so tightly. 
“Please, just notice. See it, angel, it’s there.” 
Your jaw quivered. He was so close to you. The few words you were able to make out were confusing. 
“My oblivious girl. Please.” 
“Azriel—” 
When he opened his eyes, the world fell off its axis. The fear in your chest—the feeling that had been unraveling you and leaving you weak—alighted. It pulled and pulled but this time it didn’t hurt. It no longer left splinters embedded in your ribs or took the breath from your lungs. 
As you looked up at Azriel, it was only soothing and warm and—
Mate. Azriel was your mate. 
You pushed back from him, stumbling and catching on the rug as you went toppling down to the floor. There was no pain from the fall; a numbness overtook your body where the warmth once flowed. 
“You’re my—Azriel, you—” 
There were no endings to the sentences you began. Azriel tried reaching a hand down, but when you wouldn’t take it he joined you on the floor. He sat with you between his legs, bringing you forward until your knees curled against his chest. And then he wrapped you in his arms and then his wings, taking calming breaths as yours ran rampant. 
“I am your mate,” he finished for you, so much more soothing than you had ever heard him speak.
“But Elain,” you gasped out, finding solace against his chest. You leaned your forehead against him and relished in the heat. 
“What of Elain?” Azriel asked, bringing a hand up against the back of your head. 
“You love Elain.” 
“I do not love Elain.” 
“And Mor?” 
“I do not love Mor, either.” 
You nodded against him. This would take longer for you to come to terms with later, but only simple answers were getting through to you now. And the bond—the bond—sang as you touched Azriel. The bond didn’t care if you were confused or hurt or disbelieving.
Your mind swam as a new influx of emotions filled you, but there was a distinction to them and you knew they weren’t your own. At first, it was hard to pick through them all; there were so many that they all blended together. There was an obvious tender love, but also a crippling fear that mingled with a darkness you couldn’t place. There was adoration and hopefulness and a sense of peace that lay at the bottom of all else. 
But you could tell this peace was new. It wasn’t as deeply ingrained as the others. 
Azriel leaned back, craning his neck down to catch your gaze. “Do you feel that?” he asked. When you nodded, he continued. “Those feelings have always belonged to you. All of them. I know there is not a lot of proof of that, and I will spend the rest of my life making up for that, but they have always belonged to you.” 
“Have you always felt mine?” you asked, voice sounding unused. 
“Since I’ve felt the bond,” he nodded. 
“How long have you…” 
Azriel sighed, but it wasn’t out of irritation. The bond told you as much. “Months.” 
Tears burned at the back of your eyes. “Then why did you never—” 
Azriel shushed you as your voice cracked. He ran both hands behind your head and held you steady as his lips pressed to your forehead. 
“I didn’t want to lose you.” 
Throat still closed, words still choked, you replied, “That is idiotic.” 
This time, when Azriel laughed, you felt that pride spark up in your chest. “I know, angel. Gods, do I know that.” 
There was a brief pause, a respite to the revelations and emotions in the room. You counted your breaths as you pressed against Azriel, and he ran his hands up and down the length of your spine, chaste kisses pressed to your head as the minutes ticked by. 
“Don’t leave.” Azriel broke the silence. “Stay. Please.” 
When you didn’t answer, he kept talking. 
“You don’t have to love me. I know that is a lot to ask and there are still so many questions left unanswered. But, y/n, I have loved you for a long, long time. I couldn’t bear it if you left. It has been difficult to even function this past week with you avoiding me. If you were to leave—”
“I only avoided you because I thought it wasn’t me,” you interrupted, pulling back once again to meet his gaze. “I thought you didn’t love me and I couldn’t stand it, so I wanted to leave.”
A grim line set into Azriel’s mouth. The desperation returned to his eyes. “We have wasted so much time.” 
“I wouldn’t say wasted. Not when you were here. Not when I was still with you.” 
“Angel.” The word came out like a plea, and then his lips were on yours. His hands pressed you closer and his mouth was hot against yours and it was everything you’d spent three centuries ignoring. You loved him, gods did you love him, and in this kiss was every proof that he loved you. 
You tangled your fingers in his hair, musing the already displaced strands. His wings quivered as you kissed him more, the action sending little pools of light into the bubble he had created. They felt warm against your eyelids, and when you pulled away to see the cause, Azriel moved his attention to your jaw, your cheek, your neck. 
“You are my mate,” he affirmed against your skin, low and gravelly. “Mine.” 
You pulled his head away, leaning your forehead against his own. “And you are mine.” 
“I love you,” he said. 
And you couldn’t say it back, not yet. Azriel seemed unperturbed by this and accepted your small smile as a reply, reciprocating it tenfold. His smile shone in the pockets of light created by his wings and his eyes no longer looked sad. It made you want to say it back.
When that guilt flooded you and your mouth parted, there was a tug at the bond instead. You gasped at the feeling, blinking up at Azriel with owlish eyes. 
“I’ve wanted to do that for months,” he admitted, smile softening as he ran scarred fingers along your cheeks. “Every time I felt your doubt or fear. I figured I could startle it out of you.” 
You rubbed at your chest. “It feels warm. And…” You couldn’t find the words.
“It feels good, angel. This bond was cold and it hurt, but it—it feels good. Like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.” 
A breathy, awestruck laugh escaped you. “You know, I still have to go to Day for the weekend. It’s court-appointed.” 
Azriel groaned, burying his face in your neck. “Then I will come with you,” he grumbled, words muffled against your skin. 
“You cannot. But you can wait for me to return and I will come right back here.”
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anantaru · 8 months
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EX HUSBAND NEUVILLETTE
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— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — ex! husband neuvillette headcanons
— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, fluff, crack lmao, he‘s trying his best, very rough like he’s feral!!!!, fucks you like there’s no tomorrow, but the sweetest man, a little possessive without him realising
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ex! husband neuvillette, who— as was wildly anticipated, would not instantly vanish from your life nor leave you stranded alone beside the mental toll that a separation would leave on the both of you— even after the grief-stricken divorce was at last, ultimately finalized and carried out.
ex! husband neuvillette who thought that— with the fullness of his devastated heart, that in his own very eyes, it was beyond a doubt commonplace to aid and assist his ex-wife in the so called "aftermath" of your troubling divorce, whilst more urgently, be in no qualms that you're being cared for with everything and anything you could possible need.
ex! husband neuvillette, who of course, would double check with you to not suddenly overstep any boundaries or take up space that you might need— yet bare in mind, if you were to ask him for help on any matter really, he'd immediately leave everything behind to fulfill your wishes first, considering he is used to it, but the man will tend to forget about his own personal needs which he needed so he could function properly— yet now with you out of the picture, walking back to his current reality was becoming a taxing task.
ex! husband neuvillette, who, aside from his own separate challenges and demands, would never dare to cast aside his important work of practically running the nation of hydro. much obliged, he was a prestigious, praiseworthy man, thus the reason for him to pull more effort and sleepless nights into his occupation.
ex! husband neuvillette who couldn't believe that you both were divorced in the first place because in all seriousness, there wasn't much changing and aside from a couple instances, for example that he wasn't seeing you frequently, it felt the same way to him.
ex! husband neuvillette who, after a couple weeks into your divorce, will suddenly become a little more distant, not responding to letters you would occasionally send to make sure he was okay— with the immediate turbulent, overcast weather in fontaine adding to the closing eeriness of the entire situation. it's constant, clouded and gray, a mirage of cold rain and an incoming storm, and the people of fontaine will begin to question what had happened or if it was simply an unlucky past couple of weeks.
ex! husband neuvillette who doesn't like the idea of divorce, as might be expected he understands it, but in his own regard, he does not approve of it, but he accepts it— additionally, he wouldn't force you to stay with him, again, why he had agreed on it in the first place. the man would lie to himself if he'd say that it doesn't break his heart, the unclouded thought of wholly erasing the person he referred to as his 'wife' off his entire life was a frightening pondering.
ex! husband neuvillette wasn't willing to accept it, ever, but he did it for your sake and the small possibility of you becoming close again, in the future? perhaps, he was willing to wait endlessly, condemning himself to a lifetime in darkness, knowing full on well that his most desired dream to reconcile arguably wouldn't come true— on top of that, after careful, deep talks on how to properly navigate your divorce and being separated from now on, you have both ultimately agreed on remaining 'friends' in a sense, such was easy to state of course but you longed to make the best out of it, or at least try.
ex! husband neuvillette who will against all odds, still keep his wedding ring put on its designated place. granted, he had gotten quite accustomed to the feeling of it being wrapped around his finger and doesn't want to take it off. if you do decide to ask him about it, given that you aren't wearing yours anymore, he will plainly state that he got used to it way too much and it had grown on him, really, becoming a part of his person so ultimately taking it off would result in the same as him severing a limb off his body.
ex! husband neuvillette who still calls you his wife unintentionally, in the beginning of the first couple of weeks, it will happen almost all the time. be that as it may, he doesn't do it on purpose to somehow hurt you or make you uncomfortable, and he was aware of the fact that he needed to get accustomed to the feeling of being single again, of not being married anymore but calling you his wife just warmths his chest and hugs him from inside and out.
ex! husband neuvillette bets on it, it's like his whole day could be stacked with work on end, without a second of tranquility in sight, rain droplets covering the nation of hydro, but when he thinks about you, only you, a smile coruscates over his soft lips, increasing his heart beat, it's all so painful but he wouldn't want it any other way because nothing, and he emphasizes it deeply, nothing would be as painful as having you gone form his life.
ex! husband neuvillette who, and pay attention now, this would only happen if his strong, rational thinking skills and durable emotions towards keeping the laws of this world truthful were somewhat altered in an instance of weakness, but he would adore to throw and punish every new person you would date after him behind bars, yet not before properly dragging them to a trail that they cannot win, for him to look down on them— again, it's a small fantasy he wouldn't bring into life, he honored his noble work.
ex! husband neuvillette who knows that even day dreaming about such wrongful ideas were full of holes and malice, yet beyond it, he keeps himself restrained in not interfering in your new relationships— which he had thought must be a lot, you could say he believed that you were already out and about in the dating world, overthinking the worst out of all possibilities that could happen.
ex! husband neuvillette who will oftentimes send the melusines out to check up on you and tell him how you're doing— no, don't misunderstand, he doesn't want to know if you were dating again, he wouldn't, after all, this was your personal life and he wasn't your husband anymore. but then again, surely checking every now and then wouldn't hurt a soul, right?
ex! husband neuvillette will send you freshly picked flowers frequently, or have your favorite dish made by a professional chef. how can i forget to mention that he tends to buy a small, cute souvenir that would remind him of you and send it your way instantly. at how things were slowly progressing, the man will be quite embarrassed in facing you again, granted that you had promised to remain friends, he fears that the constant raining and pouring around fontaine would make it desperately obvious on how he was truly feeling, what can there be left anyways, nothing but the untouchable part of him, his aching soul begging for closeness.
but ex! husband neuvillette does not want to trouble you, fearing he might become overbearing in his doings, but he misses you, this time it's more raw than that, more exposed, more pure. he longes for a moment where he can see and feel you again, his mind circling through emotions and pondering, sinful dreams stitching his psyche together and calming down his heart.
ex! husband neuvillette who will be surprised, yet overly thrilled as if he was about to jump off his chair, when you ask the sweet melusines to hand him over a letter— the scent of the thin paper reminding him of your fragrance, a similar one he noticed whenever he kissed your neck. beyond question, they couldn't have told him fast enough, he finishes up the necessary work load for the day, at once forging ahead to your once shared house. you know it by now but he does not falter, he wants this to be perfect, carefully picking up a bouquet of flowers, with the flowers in questions being the very ones that have been decorating your wedding venue back in the day, oh sweet memories, he hopes he doesn't come off as crazy.
ex! husband neuvillette who tries to play it cool, it's not a big deal, but why were his hands sweating? his breathing was fast too, burgeoning, each following step towards your home, his limbs and muscles would begin to tremble, it's evident and almost aflame, but the weather has been nice again all of a sudden, for once in fontaine and he couldn't wait to see you.
ex! husband neuvillette who cannot say anything when you open the door for him, all these miles with the memories of your passionate time together pouring back into his mind. it's silly, but so real, and there was a silence, although not of an uncomfortable kind, it was overthrowing the hefty atmosphere.
and honestly, you think ex! husband neuvillette was cute when he was all overwhelmed and bereft of speech, even cuter when he’s silently walking past the door, your hands slowly wrapping around the bouquet of flowers to place them aside, on top of a wooden drawer before panning your eyes back into his grasp— which was his piercing, conquering gaze.
you could perceive the cutting tautness, how the reinforced pressure alone couldn't be torn, not with a sharp knife, no sword, no blade, because forthrightly— there wasn't anything on this planet that was able to part this emerging and crashing body chemistry.
all fairness to the situation— your captivation was off the charts, two people unable to coexist while parted, searching within your souls to understand what was happening. yet then it hit you, that maybe— heavily placed on a single maybe, that there might've been a cruel mistake in how things ended between you both;
or did they end?
because like a bullet piercing through soft flesh, it gave the impression away as if you were both moving closer to your sweet frames until you could clearly feel his warm, clothed chest pushed against your own— hopeful eyes remained locked within your gazes as you carefully slide your hands behind his neck without breaking his stares.
ex! husband neuvillette whose breathing was all fast and hasty, yet much swifter was his never ending intention to kiss you again and taste your lips in the process, he cannot stop himself anymore, but he must— for some reason, he cannot fathom that this might be reality and that you both would have a second chance in this life after all.
"kiss me." you suddenly whisper, eyes aglow with his own enlarging at the nervous utterance, subtle touches weaving together and showing your open truths.
ex! husband neuvillette feels how tense he has gotten and tries to relax— on top of that, he was reminiscing about the past and the bare memories of your writhing body splayed under his large one, his entire weight on top of you, just the whisper of his sinful imagination made his mouth water— he truly believes he was in fact dreaming right now, especially when you tell him to kiss him again.
there were no thoughts to process anymore, no focus he could grasp on to remain clearness— what was left were true, unfaltering desires and the scalding pain of waiting. that‘s when you kiss him instead, his body immediately welcoming your fervid warmth, pulling his head towards your own in a heart beat.
ex! husband neuvillette felt a heavy hardship being lifted off his shoulders the moment your lips touch his, and each one of the words he had planned to spell out to you, they form into a sting that was beating into his heart, repeatedly, the sharp stitches seeping into his veins slowly. and he refuses to cry in front of you, or expose to you that everything that had happened after your separation was covered in nothing but a silent numbness.
swallowing the lump in his throat, ex! husband neuvillette guides you to the bedroom, it was hard to decipher what was real or not, each motion of your lips rounding across his own felt like he was dreaming the most beautiful dream of them all. the whisper of cold air brushes across your bodies when he opens the door to the cold room, his own imagination going wild when he peeks at the neatly made bed, or the wooden drawer next to it, still having your wedding picture on display.
ex! husband neuvillette who takes his time in undressing you, the fear of someone taking you away from him again, even now, was still there and he wanted, no, needed to relish in this as good as possible. neuvillette wets his lips, nervous, "my love.. are you sure about this?" and he hesitated for a second— but when you tug at his own sleeves now, fondling with the expensive garment, nodding your head and expertly wrapping your digits into the thin fabric to help him out of it, he knows you wanted it as badly as he did, popping his arms back so you could pull his coat down, your mouth twisting into a subtle smile.
ex! husband neuvillette who touches you featherlight, slowly parting your legs to settle in between, and butterflies expand in your belly when you admire his beauty from up close again, his muscles twitching when you decide to lightly graze his skin with your fingertips, smoothly sliding over his chest before wrapping your arms around his neck. 
ex! husband neuvillette who could honestly cry the moment he first slides his cock into you again, kissing you again and again, more deeply, more feral and in need before licking into your mouth, leaving his large hand to wander down to the plush of your ass and push you into the mattress when he first bottoms out of you. you're so warm, wet and comfortable while you're clamping down on him. and neuvillette pistols his hips like an electric light, hoping he'd be able to hit so deep inside your warm cunt till you practically feel him stir up your guts.
and a moan slowly builds up in your throat as your tits brush against his strong chest— whilst neuvillette places a delicious, fast pace on you, the bare strength of his thrusts making the headboard bounce back and forth the wall as he nibbles on your bottom lip while fucking his cock into you, your gummy walls squelching at each well received pump.
ex! husband neuvillette who roughly palms your tits and plays with your nipples with his hips moving in a feral tempo— whilst those breathy, wet pleas of your name, the ones he whispered against your ear, evolve into gluttonous, hungry groans, whilst the thought about losing all of this made it more difficult for him to say anything at all, his throat acting as a trap for that one sentence he intended to spell out, the sound of it awaiting to break free— but the nervousness couldn't be surpassed as he takes a hold of your hand, desperately clutching on it before grinding his erection back into you, a pulse surging through the entirety of your walls.
ex! husband neuvillette who finds it mesmerizing on how you were so responsive to his every nibble and touch, his thudding cock diving between your legs while he fists your tits in his warm hand, your lips parting with cries and begs while meeting his hungry pace.
his hips, much bigger than yours, keep hitting into you, a lustful gaze on your facial expression clouding your mind as he makes you feel so unbelievably good, soaking your sheets as you kiss him, famished and hot, feeling his needy grunts exhaling through his lips as you clench down hard, gazes meeting once and for all, "i love you." you say, almost cry it out, and neuvillette wanted to be patient with you, claim your body to its full exhaustion afterwards, but not now, he cannot keep his cool this time— not anymore, not after you said those very three words he wasn't able to utter out all night.
you're truly driving him insane, and his body was pressing hotly against yours as you wiggle and writhe under him, puppy eyes watching him please you from under your lashes while you’re requiring more of his cock in you, please please, you say, your pussy clamping around his girth and milking him for good.
ex! husband neuvillette who tells you, "i love you too, i love you too.." in quick, fast paced syllables, and the burning veins in his body turn numb when you begin to cry out of joy and pleasure, hastily pushing your heels into his back to signal him to fuck you harder as he pounds away into your creamy pussy, dragging his hard erection along your sore walls and burning pleasure spots.
now— your nails simmer over his defined back, both sweetly indulging in each others company and the feeling of being one again, nothing else but solid, fast paced pleasure which was turning him on, so fucking much, his breathing puffed and winded, throwing his head back as you're doing your best to match his insane rhythm.
your pussy swallows him up like magic, your damp lashes tickling his shoulders as he buries his face against your neck to suck on the wet flesh, in accessory to the numerous amount of praises, declarations of love and filthy curses plastering your sweaty skin. or how about the swallowing screams and begs of your name that ripple through him as you moan out fervently, twitching under his towering body and arching your back.
oh, well? it's now or never your “ex” husband fears, and he decides to push his pulsing cock deep into your hole, deeper, just a little bit more, please! until you're desperately screaming into his shoulder, as far as it can fit into your little pussy, sending you over an intoxicating edge.
and ex! husband neuvillette was, at long last, back at where he should be, where he should've been all along, with you, making passionate and meaningful love to each other, because the man needed it, needed you close to him, and he cannot and will never again, paint the world without you in it.
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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starryeyedjanai · 1 month
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Steve and Eddie meet through their local buy-nothing-sell-nothing group when Steve’s getting ready to move in with Robin and he realizes he can't keep everything he owns while trying to merge households with her.
The first time they meet, Steve hadn't even been meaning to actually meet the person picking up the free toaster oven he’s giving away.
He’s setting his toaster oven outside his house on the porch when Eddie hops out of his van to pick it up and it would be rude to duck back inside without saying anything since he obviously sees him coming up, so they make small talk for a minute and Steve has to keep his eyeballs in check because they keep wanting to rake all the way down this guy’s body.
He’s covered in tattoos and so extremely Steve's type, but he knows better than to hit on someone who lives in his neighborhood and is not here for that reason.
He laments to Robin about it the next day, about the hot guy who’s probably using Steve's toaster oven as they speak, who he’ll probably never see again.
Robin rolls her eyes fondly at him and tells him that maybe if he puts more stuff up for grabs on the facebook group, he might see him again, but Steve suspects she just wants him to get rid of more of his stuff so it doesn't overcrowd their new apartment.
The set of items he puts up in the group next is an old blender and a butcher block that has three of the knives missing—seriously where did those knives go? He has yet to find them.
He tries to pretend he isn't secretly hoping Eddie will comment under his post that he wants the items, but he isn't fooling himself when his heart literally skips a beat when the first comment is from Eddie. He messages him and tells him to stop by later that day.
When Eddie shows up, they talk for longer than last time, Eddie asking why Steve needs to get rid of so much stuff and Steve asking why Eddie needs all this stuff—especially considering Steve snooped through the group and saw that Eddie joined over a year ago and hadn't once commented before now (he doesn't mention that thought, but he is thinking it real hard).
Eddie laughs and says he was in the market for a toaster oven when Steve posted one and wouldn't you know it? He also needs a blender—the knife set is just a bonus, he says.
Steve tries not to read too much into it, but his brain is spinning the interaction around in his head for the next week.
He puts up a space heater in the group and within minutes, Eddie has claimed it.
“I should just get your number and text you directly when I find something I want to get rid of next time,” Steve says flippantly when Eddie comes by to grab it that night. “Instead of clogging up the facebook group.”
Eddie smirks at him and steps a little closer. He says, “Maybe you should.”
His neighbor’s car alarm decides to go off right at that moment, ruining the flirty atmosphere with its incessant shrill. They can barely hear each other over the drone of it, so Eddie leaves without giving Steve his number and Steve is left feeling like he keeps having these missed connection moments with Eddie.
In a fit of desperation to see Eddie again, Steve puts up a bunch of random stuff in the group the next day—a shoe rack that’s missing a piece, a step stool, a cheap side table he got from Ikea—and Eddie is still the first person to comment like he’s been refreshing the page, just waiting for Steve to post.
“I left without giving you my number last time and I didn't want to be creepy and message you unprompted,” Eddie says as they load the side table into his van. “I think I was overthinking things and then got kind of spooked.”
“It doesn't look like anything could spook you,” Steve says.
When they get the side table inside the back of the van, Eddie turns to him and admits, “A very pretty boy could.”
Steve can feel his face getting hot. “You think I’m pretty?” he asks.
Eddie nods. “Why do you think I keep coming here? There's no way a person who’s lived here for as long as I have would need all this stuff.”
“Did you need any of it?” Steve asks in a teasing voice. “Or were you just so blown away by how cute my profile picture is that you just had to meet me?”
“Oh, I needed the toaster oven, but everything after that was just to see you again,” Eddie says before biting his lip.
There’s an entire swarm of butterflies in his stomach when Eddie's hand brushes his, when Steve takes Eddie's hand in his and leads him inside his box-filled house.
Later, when they’re making out on Steve's couch—when Steve really should still be packing since he has to move in less than a week—he pulls back to ask, “Wait, so are you gonna put the rest of the stuff you don't need back up for grabs in the group? I feel like that would start so much neighborhood gossip.”
Eddie grins wide and Steve wants to kiss him again, wants to feel his smile against his mouth.
“Oh, we’ll be the talk of the town, baby,” Eddie says, pulling him back in.
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xurory · 10 days
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"ME OR THEM?"
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would they would sacrifice the world to save you?
pairings. blade, jingliu, gepard ; xiao, scara/wanderer x gn!reader
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BLADE would. if it's you, then he'll sacrifice and leave everything behind all for the sake of you. but there's a feeling within him that tells him to sacrifice himself instead. letting everyone live on but at the same time, he still gets to save you. though, if we're talking just you against the world, then he wouldn't hesitate to let the world burn and watch every single being set ablaze with you beside him. you've practically became the remedy for his immortality. and a life without you felt like a curse just by thinking about it. "it's okay, blade." you say as your lover turns to you with a puzzled expression. "what is?" "to choose everyone else over me." he flicks your forehead harshly, making you frown. he was picking you and he wouldn't have it any other way.
JINGLIU would. no traces of hesitation found. her devotion towards you was infinite, and she wasn't about to betray her promise to you. she would choose you over and over again in this lifetime into the next and each one after that. because as long as she had you there with her, she didn't need the presence of anybody else. "you have no idea how much of a hold you have on me." she mutters, voice no louder than a whisper. caressing your under eyes, admiring how peaceful you looked as you slept soundly on her lap.
GEPARD wouldn't. his heart ached at the thought of losing you. he wanted to choose you, be there when you wake up. but as the captain of the silvermane guards who swore to maintain the peace of belobog until the day of his very last breath, he knew he wasn't in the right position to embrace the feeling of you in his arms and watch as the world breaks. "don't cry. please." you plead, wiping the tears that streamed down his cheeks with you thumbs. "i understand. okay?" you keep on saying that, but you had no idea how much he hated himself at that moment. he was basically on his knees begging for your forgiveness even though you already did so. it took everything in him to refrain himself from letting his deepest desires get the best of him.
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XIAO wouldn't. you knew, he knew, you both expected his exact answer. and you tried your best to perceive how hard this was for him the same way it was difficult for you. much like blade, if he had the choice to give himself up instead, he would've done it. securing both the safety of his beloved and teyvat itself. his body molding into yours, refusing to let go. refusing to accept that this will be the last time he'd ever be able to hold you again this close. he sobs on your shoulder, staining your clothing. "shhh.. my love, you did the right thing. and i forgive you. i always will." the softness of your voice brought out his side of vulnerability that he will never allow anyone to ever see again other than you.
SCARAMOUCHE would. is that even a question? he was all prepared to leave this one heck of a world behind and be with you for eternity. he couldn't care any less of what he might be considered as. because in the end, he had you. his everlasting love that he shared with you was the one thing that kept him going. "isn't this exaggeration? could've just finished me off.." you whispered, toying with your fingers. your sentence threw him off. "and there i thought you've stopped being so stupid." you gave him a cheeky smile. an expression of yours he was ready to kill for.
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likes & reblogs from you kisses from me :3 🍓
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yandere-daydreams · 10 months
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Sphinx!Xiao, who finds you stranded in the desert after your research group gets separated. A pack of wild coyote hybrids thought to be amicable, if not friendly towards humans attacked your camp in the middle of the night and sent you running aimlessly into the sand plains without time to gather food or water, let alone distress flares. By the time you stumble onto a wind-beaten temple, you're freezing, dehydrated, and exhausted. You barely have the strength to drag yourself up the meager steps and through the degraded doorway before you collapse on the sandstone floor, only able to hope that, by some miracle, a search party would be able to find you before you died of exposure. A search party doesn't find you, obviously, but Xiao does.
Sphinx!Xiao, who refuses to show himself for days. You only know he's there by the gifts he leaves you - cactus pears, palm dates, flasks of water and bitter wine that burns your throat as it goes down. It's not much, but it's enough to keep you alive, and you're too desperate to turn down anything he gives you. He's generous, too, giving you more than enough to get by while you're still in that state of bleary half-consciousness. You think he can tell that survival's not your area of expertise, that if you were left to your own devices, it'd only be a matter of time before you ate something poisonous or wandered into a bobcat den. That, or you're just pathetic enough to earn a few sand-covered blankets on top of the bare necessities.
Sphinx!Xiao, who lets you fawn over him with a purse-lipped scowl when you do finally manage to corner your elusive savior. You honestly just want to thank him, but once he's in front of you, you can't help grinning as you rake your fingers through the ivory feathers of his massive wings and scratch at the bases of his rounded ears. You've never so much as heard of a creature with both the wings and eyes of a bird-based hybrid and the legs, tail, and fangs of a cat-based hybrid, so you can't stop yourself from treating him like the eighth wonder of the world (unintended affection a touch-starved Xiao secretly basks in, not that you notice the pale blush painted across his skin while you're performing a remarkably thorough investigation on the color of his paw-pads).
Sphinx!Xiao, who stand-offish at best, reclusive at worst. He's clearly not used to having someone to talk to, his voice rough and his dialogue usually limited to one-word phrases or barked orders, but you can usually manage to string along your brief conversations on your own, either wondering aloud when you might be rescued or telling him about all the things you're going to do when you make it back to civilization. For every hour you spend fantasizing about baths and take-out and air conditioning, he spares a few words about himself. From what you can gather, he's a guardian of-sorts, meant to protect people like you from a threat he claims you couldn't begin to understand. You're not really in a place to question him, considering you didn't even know a hybrid like him could exist a few weeks ago.
Sphinx!Xiao, who also claims he's not allowed to 'meddle in human matters', meaning he can't help you beyond making sure you don't starve to death. You've asked him if he's seen anyone looking for you while hunting, but he's never given you a straight answer, and when you suggest that he just, say, put that twenty-foot wingspan to use and drop you off on the edge of the nearest town or village, he just scowls, rolls his eyes, refuses to say anything at all. You want to press the subject, sometimes, but you really can't afford to annoy him, to make yourself even more of an irritation to him than you already are. You wouldn't survive a day out here, on your own. You wouldn't survive without Xiao.
Sphinx!Xiao, whose gifts have been getting more... modern, recently. Luxuries are still few and far between, but you have a small store of canned food, now, a couple fleece blankets that don't seem at least a decade old, bits of scrap metal and glass that must've caught Xiao's eye. You try not to pry, not to turn down anything he gives you, but his most recent gift - a half-crushed, silver wedding band with an odd, scarlet stain you can't seem to polish away - hasn't seen the light of day since he dropped it into your hand.
Sphinx!Xiao, who keeps his wings wrapped around you as you sob into his shoulder and beat your fists against his chest. You're not in the temple anymore, dilapidated and open, but his den - a hellish, lightless cave filled to bursting with golden jewelry and century-old artifacts and scraps of metal and clothing that couldn't have come from anything but human travelers, from dozens upon dozens of people who could've saved you if he hadn't gotten in the way.
Sphinx!Xiao, who hums and coos and purrs as he rubs circles into your back, as he promises that he's not going to hurt you, that he's not going to let anything hurt you ever again.
Sphinx!Xiao, who's always been a guardian, first and foremost. It's just that now, he's decided it's his responsibility to guard you.
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flamingpudding · 2 months
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I have a theory!
Duke groaned, his head tumping against his desk on his side of the room. He had heard these words often enough by now to know that his roommate was going to start ranting about something strange but weirdly fascinating again.
The last time his roommate started with that, he went on a rant how all rich people have a secret basement below their homes or some secretly identities with a bulletpoint list of what to look out for as a warning. Which Duke had a hard time not laughing about as he thought about Bruce, who ended up checking a lot of the bulletpoints.
"Danny what is it now?" Duke ended up asking after all. He knew he wouldn't be able to stop his roommate. No one aside from his sister apparently could, Danny even gave her number to Duke as an emergency number in case Danny ever gets so caught up in his own thoughts that even he himself couldn't stop himself anymore. Yeah that was weird to watch Danny trying to stop himself, but it was fascinating that his sister only needed to say his name twice over the speaker.
"Duke hear me out!" Okay of to a good start, so this meant Danny wasn't a hundred percent behind his own theory.
"Red Hood is a ghost or part ghost!"
If Duke had been drinking something, he would have taken a spit take here. For some reasons he had the image of Jason wearing a bed sheet saying the most deadpan 'Boo' in his head when Danny said that. He coughed, trying to hide that amusement. "What makes you say that?"
"You know how you 'saw' that I am a 'Meta'?" Danny ask him in return and Duke nodded still feeling a but weird with how Danny sounded when he refred to himself as Meta but also vividly remembering how his roommate pretty much blinded him on the day he moved into the dorms. "I can kind of see something similar. Like I explained how I have a ghost sense and all that, right?"
"Yea, you did." Duke nodded along, he new his roommate became a Meta through a lab accident. Once Duke had asked him and they had the cleared the air about both of them being Metas, Danny had somewhat opened up a bit on his whole weird family and Duke thought his family wasn't normal but compared to the Fentons the Batfamily might as well could be.
"Well last night I ran into him when I went scrap collecting for my engineering project!"
"DANNY!" Duke couldn't help but scowl. One the school was providing materials, Danny didn't need to do that and two, if he met Red Hood aka Jason that meant Danny wandered far enough to end up near or in Crime Alley! He would need to bug Jason later to find out more about that.
"I know, I know." His roommate waved him off. "Anyway, my ghost sense tingled. Soooo Red Hood got to be a ghost or part ghost, considering he hit a wall instead of phasing through it when he chased me..."
"Danny!" Duke scowled him again, hidding his amusement behind it. Now, he really had to get THAT story out of Jason later, plus he wanted to see if there maybe was possible video proof of Jason running into a wall chasing after Danny.
"Anyway! I got more than just that! Listen here, you know how I told you about some of my parents' inventions..." Danny instead continued finally starting his rant.
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gotham-daydreams · 4 days
Text
Not Now (PT. 2)
[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]
[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Mild General Yandere(ish) Behavior, Arguing, Awkward Tension(?), No One is Having a Good Time, Angst, Implied Past Injuries (To Reader)]
(When I say arguing I do mean it this time. Might be a bit more OOC? Dick is living up to his nickname. This is longer than the first part, just fyi - and by a good 4k or so words. Again, take your time and remember to take breaks!)
Didn't tag anyone on this post since both this part and the first are posted back to back :] Regardless, enjoy!
Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3 (PT. 1). [Series Masterlist]
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"I… I just don't think it's a good idea. It doesn't feel right, and- and I…" You couldn't think of much else to say. All the reasons you had felt too personal, and you didn't feel comfortable telling Dick any of them. Not out here, and certainly not while he was in the suit. Though even if he wasn't, you weren't sure that it'd make you any more willing to tell him anything. 
After all, you wouldn't even share the date of your birthday if he asked now, with or without the suit.
"Yeah, but why? It doesn't make sense to not go to either place just because you have a ‘bad feeling’ or anything. Even then, you'll be safe, and that's what really matters." That didn't feel like it was the case. Your safety doesn't feel like a priority over him just being able to keep an eye on you, and being able to pull anything he wants to without any prying eyes.
Though it was with that thought, did you wonder when you began to see Dick as someone so untrustworthy that you considered him to be on the same level as a thug out on the streets. Just far more dangerous and capable.
"Look, I just-" You sigh harshly, looking back at Dick as the fire in your chest rose, building up as it poked at your ribs and flesh. Begging for more air, more room to grow. "I'm going to the park. If you're not coming then that's fine by me, and if you're not okay with that, then there's nothing I can do about it." You state, looking forward as you pick up your pace. 
Dick fumbles over his words before he hurriedly matches your pace, "Wait! Let's try and think this over-"
"Why? Even if we're out in the open, you're still a vigilante. If you can defend and look after an entire city, then surely you can protect one person, right? Not to mention that I can take care of myself." You huff, still keeping your eyes forward even as they narrow. You add, "Besides, again- not many people are out tonight. And if anything- seem to be rushing home, because of whatever is going on. We'll be fine."
"Sure. Yeah. I can handle it- but wouldn't it be smarter to just be inside anyway? That way it's less likely for anything to happen. You have to think rationally-" You swiftly cut Dick off again, really trying to put your foot down and stand your ground here.
"I am thinking rationally. You're a skilled vigilante that's been trained under Batman, and have only improved in skill and technique over the years. If anything goes wrong, and I can't handle it, you can. Not to mention that you have a way to contact the others if things really do go sideways, and you're in the suit. I didn't think I needed to say anything else." You sigh, lightly scratching the cup in your hands with your nail.
"Also, if you haven't noticed, even criminals and thugs are running home. It's like some kind of quarantine or lock down is going on. Some random person eavesdropping on us doesn't seem like it'll be a problem. Let alone with all of the noises that seem to be 'persuading' people to go home."
Dick could only sigh himself before saying, "Alright- okay. Fine. But like you said, I'm still in the suit."
"And?"
"And someone could see, and think that you're a close tie to me or something. You could be put in more danger."
"Are you actually worried about that now? You've been walking beside me this entire time when you didn't have to, and it's only now that you're worried about me being seen with you in the suit?"
"How else are we supposed to have this conversation? And I'm sorry for being worried about your safety, and well-being in the future for being seen with me." You could practically hear the eye-roll in Dick's voice despite knowing that he didn't actually do it. When did he get so sarcastic?
"That's not the issue, and you know that. We could've figured out some other way to have this talk, and you didn't have to walk beside me this entire time." You shot him a glance, causing Dick to sigh again.
"What if something happened while I was up top, and I couldn't react fast enough because I wasn't next to you? Someone could've tried something if I wasn't there, especially because you'd appear to be by yourself."
"So… remind me again, who's the paranoid one?"
"Y/n, I'm being serious." Dick states.
"I know. I'm being serious too, and I'm just saying that it's kind of ridiculous to be worrying about that now when it's already been a few minutes." You huff, "And I don't know what you expect me to do about it. I'm not the one in the suit, y'know. Why don't you just go and change somewhere?"
Dick rubs his nose bridge, getting annoyed but not trying to show it as he says, "Fine. I can do that, but at least come with me." He looks at you expectantly as his hand drops from his face. You couldn't help but raise a brow at his words.
"Why?"
"So that I can keep an eye on you…? And if anything happens while I'm changing- I'll be able to jump in and help much faster?" Dick said, confused. Talking as if he was stating the obvious, and maybe he was in a way, but you didn't see why he's so adamant about being close to you enough where he could easily protect you or reach you if needed.
"But wouldn't that kind of go against the point of you changing…?"
"What do you mean?"
"If I wait somewhere and Nightwing walks off, only for you-know-who to pop up after a little while, and we walk off together, wouldn't that be weird? Or at least hint at a certain something?" You point out, a little confused and surprised that you even had to explain this to Dick.
"C'mon, I won't be that obvious. And even then, no one will be able to figure it out."
"You say that like every other villain or wannabe in Gotham isn't some genius or anything. They're criminals and all that, but they aren't entirely stupid."
Dick sighs, though it came out more frustrated than he would’ve liked as he ran a hand through his hair once again, "Still, I'd just like for you to at least be close by. I don't want anything to happen to you, and I want to be able to help out as soon and as quickly as I can if anything does." He explains, getting a little closer to you.
"Please, Y/n. Just come with me."
You shake your head, your shoulders feeling far too heavy, and the flame in your chest was much too hot for you to even think about it. You knew Dick wasn't happy about it when he gave you a little room, but still kept close. As if hoping you'd change your mind, despite already knowing the answer.
"I'll just head to the park, and wait a few minutes. I'm not defenseless and can handle myself for a while, and it's not my fault that I could be in more potential danger because someone thought it was a good idea to come see me, and follow me around while in their suit. You can figure it out, and live without me for a few minutes." You huff harshly, adding, "If you aren't there after that time? I'm leaving. That's all." Once again, you pick up your pace, only to be stopped by Dick as he rushes in front of you.
"Wait- hold on. Are you sure about this? I don't think it's a good idea- and how long exactly will you be waiting? Where are you going if you leave? Are you going back to the apartment? Are you going home?" You don't like how hopeful Dick looked when he asked you that last question, but you push your discomfort to the side, and stand your ground.
"I'm an adult, and I'm a L/n. I'm sure about this. You can think whatever you want, and like I said- I'll be waiting a few minutes. If you're not there by then, I'm going to leave." You narrow your eyes at Dick, piercing him with your gaze as you said, "I've made my choice and I'm sticking to it. If you're not happy about it, or don't agree, then you can leave and I'll go on with my night. I'll wait at the park, and that's that." You state one final time before making your way around Dick, and continuing to walk forward. Luckily, he didn't try to stop you again, and if anything — seemed to stop following you entirely.
All you heard was a low scoff from behind you, and the rush of wind.
When you glance back, Dick was gone, and it was only then did you realize how heavy the air felt. Releasing the breath you didn't know you had been holding, you clutch your chest. Your heart aches, and yet you manage to push on.
Tonight wasn't exactly going well for you, but that almost tipped you over the edge.
You were beginning to hate many things about tonight, along with Dick. It almost made you think that maybe you were lucky back when he hardly ever noticed or talked to you. It made things easier, after all, and of course now that you've had your longest conversation with him — things were only getting harder.
Every word he said made him seem bigger, or pushed you down as an attempt to make you smaller. His reasoning could go from making complete sense, to being outright idiotic and paranoid. With each action of his being either too small or way too much. 
Dick, in that way, was too much.
You could chalk up some of your discomfort and nervousness to your lack of experience with Dick, and being around him. Of course some of his antics and habits would seem strange to you — since you were never able to see much of them, and those that you did notice were from a far, and never up close. You weren't able to experience them yourself, not until now. Though that almost made you grateful for all the times he turned you down or ignored you, seeing as now you could only see how much of a handful he is to deal with. 
Maybe that could've changed if you were more familiar with him, but it was too late for that now. Even if you did wonder how this whole thing would've gone if you did know him. If you were more familiar with how Dick acted, and had actually managed to spend time with him. If Dick was more familiar with you, and how that'd change this whole situation… but, again, it was much too late for that. If he really wanted to know you, he would've taken one of the chances you gave him over the years, and yet he didn't. No one did. No one except for Alfred…
You hope he's okay, at least.
Shaking your head, you push your thoughts to the side. There was no use thinking about 'what if's, not when such thoughts and possibilities kept you in the manor for so long. Not when your mind used them against you, and had you keep that pathetic hope you once desperately clung onto. You promised yourself you wouldn't do that anymore, and so you took a breath, and tried to stop them from coming in. They always slip by, but you try to ignore them. Especially since they caused you so much trouble that could have easily been avoided in the past.
You took a small sip of your coffee, only to pull it away and look at the cup strangely. 
It was… bitter. More so than you remember, and it immediately struck you as odd. Since, Jessica always managed to make your coffee the exact same way every time, and even if she did make some mistakes here and there, the change was never this significant or noticeable. Not like it was now, with the taste lingering on your tongue, almost trying to further stain your taste buds and remain there for as long as possible. As if trying to permanently ingrain itself in your mouth.
You couldn't help but cringe a bit. Maybe getting coffee really was a bad idea after all…
Sighing, you just continue on and brush the weird occurrence to the side. Whatever, you have enough things to deal with and worry about now. There wasn't much you could do about the coffee, and if anything, maybe that just went to further show how horrible your night is going thanks to Dick. 
Though, you wouldn't push it that far, even if your opinion of him was definitely souring by the minute, but the thought was pretty funny to think about, at least.
The night felt calm for once, and it’s only now, with you by yourself, do you realize how much you needed this.
Sure, Gotham was potentially going to hell, and you might see Dick again in a few minutes, but you don't have to worry about that right now. Just here, in the streets, did you have… normal problems. Problems unrelated to a family you no longer wanted to involve yourself with, that also just so happened to be made up of vigilantes. Problems that didn't involve your musical career, and how your rise to fame was becoming both an inconvenience, and a bit of an issue. Problems that… just about everyone has dealt with one way or another.
Your coffee didn't taste quite right, you felt exhausted despite having only walked a bit, and your social battery was just about to hit its limit. The air was just a tad too cold for the clothes you were wearing, you had a strong desire to crawl into bed and sleep like you had nothing else to worry about, and really — besides yourself and making a few dumb mistakes, the only thing you really had to worry about here was getting mugged. Maybe even jumped, at a push.
Yet, such things got a light, airy laugh out of you. You felt so at ease by yourself, and during the most dangerous hours of the night, no less. Despite everything, you couldn't help but find a bit of humor in it, and such a little thing even made you feel better. That uncomfortable heat in your chest dying down, and almost going away entirely as you cooled off.
As funny as it was, you felt safer and so much more at ease without the person that was so adamant about wanting to do all of these things, to protect you. How could you not laugh at the irony?
Suddenly, the bitter taste on your tongue didn't feel so bad anymore.
Walking along Gotham streets when it was so quiet still made you feel a bit uneasy, but for the time being you were able to find some small peace with it. After all, who knew when you'd get another breather like this? Especially with whatever business Dick had with you. Vigilante and hero work wasn't exactly known to be light and easy, after all. 
So, you took this moment as it is. Finding odd little details in the night that helped you relax as much as you could before things continued.
Honestly, you didn't think you were ready for whatever Dick was about to talk about or mention, but you doubt any of it could surprise you. After all, in a city where a villain breaking out of the local prison or asylum every now and again during the week was normal, it was hard to be surprised by things related to such occurrences. Since, it even felt like someone was trying to blow up the place at least twice a month, and robberies were so common that it was a wonder that anyone had any fortune left to protect at all.
Though it did still make you curious about what’s going on. 
Obviously, it couldn't be any good, but it just seems too… quiet to be anyone that Gotham had already seen before. Seeing as the usual villains and whatnot always made some kind of mess, or made things as extravagant and entertaining as possible. Almost like a certain clown that loved to try and run circles around a certain bat.
Regardless of that, however, you were still more curious about why Dick — or any of the others, really — had bothered to seek you out at all. Sure, the first thing that came to mind was that they need you for something, rather that be for help or something else entirely, but that's only because it made the most sense to you. Why else would they try to find out where you live? You couldn't think of another reason. Though, again, maybe that was because they had ignored you for so long? Even then, you can't think of anything else. 
Besides help and such, nothing else made any logical sense to you. There is no other reason. There couldn't be, and if there is — you couldn't think of it. They couldn't just be here for you. They almost weren't capable of it. You're sure, since they have made it very clear a long time ago. You were just too naive and blind to see it at first, but now you did, and you don't plan on becoming blind to that again…
Nevertheless, you continue on your little path.
Now that Dick wasn't with you, your journey to the park was short, and much more peaceful and quiet. It was almost calm in an odd way, but you appreciated it all the same.
The park held that strange feeling of abandonment and emptiness that most of Gotham seemed to have tonight — thanks to whatever was going on — but you manage to ignore it for the most part. Making your way around the park, your pace was slower and your breath was a bit heavier. You felt like you were prolonging the inevitable, and such a feeling spawned so much dread that you almost choked on it. However, you manage, and instead try to find a good place to sit and wait for the time being.
Sure, it would be easy to leave and just go on with your night, but you did want to stay true to your word even if only a little. It's the least you could do, since this would be the last thing you'd ever do for any of them, anyway. 
Besides, you were better than them in that way — following through with what you said, instead of saying a ‘maybe’ that'll never come, or a ‘next time’ that'll never arrive. Always stuck to a tomorrow that was always just out of reach.
Your words held meaning, unlike theirs.
Moving on, you eventually found a good spot. It was closer to the center of the park, and the moon could be seen as clearly as it could be with all of the clouds passing by, and building up. The air had an odd moist and damp feeling to it, and it made you think that it might rain after all, seeing as you remember hearing something about it earlier in the day. Yet, that just gave you all the more reason to hope that this whole thing would be wrapped up soon. Though whether that happened with Dick not showing up, or him making good time and keeping things short and simple, you didn't care.
Even if you did hope that he just wouldn't show. For both his sake, and your own.
Settling down on a park bench off to the side of the path, you took a big breath, before letting it all out. You still don't have a good feeling about this, but you'd take all the little victories you could. Since, you managed to avoid going to the manor and clock tower by some miracle, and even got Dick to leave you alone for a little while. Even if a small part of yourself did wish that you had pissed him off enough for him to leave you alone, you wouldn't count on it. He seemed oddly stubborn about sticking around, or to at least keep you around him, and though it made you feel uncomfortable, it unfortunately meant that there was a chance that he'd actually show up again.
You'd pray if you had any faith left, but you don't. Not at the moment, and certainly not with that possibility hanging over your head, just waiting to drop and crush you under its weight. Though for now, you'd try to not think about it as you look around, taking in the dark scenery instead.
The darkness of the night shaded over the park in an ominous, beautiful way. With the trees looming over you, and their leaves providing more shade than necessary. As if trying to protect you from the moon's stare as much as they could. The clouds slowly crawled over the sky, waiting for the perfect opportunity to drop all they were carrying — and leave the burden for Gotham to hold. They covered what could be made out of the blank, pitch black void that was the night sky, with the moon trying its hardest to shine through. To take a glimpse of the chaos below, and judge you in its silence.
A loose breeze drifts by, causing you to shiver thanks to its added chill over the night's natural coolness. The sounds of nature were hardly audible, as if even the insects have been silenced by whatever is going on, and the only thing you could hear was that constant, sickening snapping and cracking of broken bones, and that popping from joints getting dislocated. Even if such noises were much fainter now, thanks to the spot you've chosen, they still managed to reach you here, and dominate all other noises that tried to make themselves known, with its echo.
You could only sympathize with their desperation to be heard, to be noticed — only for the violence to cover all of their efforts. Maybe you'd even pity them, but you already felt foolish over your emotions, and feeling sympathy over noises was silly enough. You have already made enough humorous and dumb choices tonight, so you'd at least try to not make another. Even if you bothering to actually wait here, instead of leaving right away, is dumb enough.
You don't know if it was hilarious or sad how many stupid choices you’re making in one night, and all because of the people you are trying to leave behind. People you were so sure would never bother to look for you or even give you a single thought, and yet here you are now. Waiting for one of them to show up – only because suddenly he couldn't leave you alone. Almost like he couldn't afford to, and now you couldn't help but debate over the humor and sadness of that.
Of course it had to be now, it had to be tonight, that one of them showed up - but you don't know what exactly you're expecting. After all, if one of them were to try and show their face to you despite everything, it would be at the worst time possible. It felt fitting in an odd way, so maybe it was only right that things went down like this. That life throw one of the biggest ‘fuck you's it could at you, during a time where you are trying to recover. To heal. To get better.
Of course he just had to show his face when you were done with him — with them, and their whole family. It had to be now, when you're trying to move on, did an effort have to be made. It couldn't be while you were in the manor - when you were trying to do the same.
… Maybe you should've let him bust open the door to your apartment after all, and just ran away while you still had the chance. 
Yet, as if knowing you were thinking of walking away while he still wasn't around, Dick finally appeared and made himself known with a little whistle.
You turn your head and face him, his appearance almost making you laugh, but you didn't have it in you to do so. Much too exhausted and fatigued to even try, and your feelings were too mixed up to even consider the thought. Though you did have to admit, he did look a little funny.
Dick almost looked out of breath, but he still manages a smile when you turn to look at him. The clothes he wore looked strangely baggy, and you could've sworn that you saw the smallest glimpses of various price tags that were tucked away sloppily. Which made it look like he really was in a rush, and… well, you didn't know how to feel about that. Yet, in that same moment, you caught the tiniest bit of his suit right under the shirt he wore. Further ‘hinting’ at the fact that Dick had been in such a hurry that he didn't actually bother to change, and instead opted to cover up his suit.
His mask was off, at least, and for a moment you wondered where he put it until you noticed him subtly stuffing something in his pocket. Which is funny as it is concerning.
Dick wore an oversized coat that he left open, with a collar shirt underneath that had two of the buttons unbuttoned, along with sweatpants and shoes that didn't quite look his size. All in all, he looked like a mess, but Wayne's look good in everything for a reason, you suppose.
“Made it just in time! I told you I would, didn't I?” Dick chuckles, still holding onto the coffee you had given him earlier with one hand. The smile on his face quickly grew into a playful smirk, and you didn't know if you should find it weird or oddly scary how much closer he seems to be to the side of him you've only seen at a distance before. The side you have seen at galas or with his family, occasionally. A side you didn't have any personal experience with until now, and the dread you felt from before only grew at that.
“Um, no, you didn't-” You try to point out, only for him to cut you off.
“Well, it probably just slipped my mind, but I'm here now!” He muses, and you can’t help but find his tone off putting considering how things ended off a few minutes ago. He both looks and sounds way too happy for someone who was so annoyed with you before. 
“I didn't keep you waiting, did I?” Dick steps closer, making his way over to you casually. Not a single trace of his previous demeanor could be found.
You can't help but move a little further away, and bite your tongue. You hoped he would've, that he did, but unfortunately he did make good time. Since, from the moment you sat down, Dick appeared only a minute after, and had it not been for his messy outfit, you would've thought that he had planned this whole thing out — down to the very last second.
“No…” You drag on, looking away once again, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice.
Yet, despite the implications of it, Dick couldn't help but find it… cute, in an odd way. Causing him to exhale softly, his smirk dying back down into a smile. Blue hues shining as they look down at you.
He moves to sit down on the bench — noticing a spot next to you, but deciding to sit beside you instead. Still remaining close, but not getting in your space entirely, since he felt like you both weren't at that point just yet. There was an armrest between the both of you, and he felt as if that'd be enough for now. Even if he did want to move closer, he decides that this was the least he could do for having been ignoring your discomfort and clear nervousness thus far. 
While he still couldn’t fully bring himself to acknowledge or accept it — since he still doesn't want to think about it — he at least wants to try and do this small thing for you.
Though, the space between you and him would never be big enough for you to be comfortable. Since just knowing he was around, and that you were in his space, already made you feel a certain way, but he didn't have to know that. Not that you would tell him, anyway.
Dick took this little opportunity to take a slow, long sip of his coffee. The drink not quite to his liking, but he wouldn't complain since you seem to like that little diner, and the last thing he wants is for your opinion of him to get worse, so he kept his mouth shut. Besides, it wasn't even that bad anyway, especially knowing that it came from a place that you enjoy going to.
Silence was quick to fall over the both of you again. Yet, this time, Dick didn't exactly have a problem with it.
Even if you weren't looking at him, he could still see that little twinkle in your eyes that the faint bits of moonlight were able to show and make clear. How your hair matched you just right, and the way you did it and took care of it completed your look even more. Along with how even the little things on your person said so much, yet so little, about who you are now. About who you have become after all this time. 
A sense of endearment and sentimentality suddenly washes over Dick, and he can't help but feel as if it were just yesterday that you were introduced to the whole family. Though he still couldn't quite describe the look in your eyes then, as there was an unmistakable hint of excitement and unfounded joy that lingered when you first met them all. When you first met him. 
You were such a little thing back then, and you have grown so much since. Dick still can't help but think about it even as he finally pulls the cup away from his lips, and sighs, content.
You were so small, and little. Your face round and youthful, hands soft and delicate - just like everything about you at the time. The world and the people in it were still so new to you, and you looked just about ready to explore it all. To see every little thing you could, and learn about everything that you found. ‘Wonder’ was the first word he thought of when he saw you that day, and looked at your expression. It was full of that child wonderment. 
Yet… look at you now. Grown, and significantly taller than you were before. Face matured and settled, but still did have a youthful look to it. He notes how your hands did seem to be a bit rougher, and instead of delicacy, he found a gentleness that was always there — but is more prominent now. That look of wonder gone, and now replaced with something more. Something complicated and complex in nature, and yet simple all the same. There's a sense of turmoil but… he couldn't look much deeper than that. He can't bring himself to.
Point is, you have clearly changed. 
Sure, he noted how you looked different and everything before, but now that same conclusion felt different in a strange way. Though maybe that was because he wasn't only looking at you now, but seeing you as well.
Dick doesn't just see the change in your clothes, and how your voice has changed its tempo and volume, but some other things as well. Maybe that's because he's able to connect some things he's learned about you over the course of the entire day, back to you and how you showed yourself now. How those details presented themselves in your appearance and mannerisms.
It’s a lot to take in, sure, but in this moment of silence - Dick found himself slowly absorbing all of this information, taking it all in and finding ways to love you through it. Even if the changes made a particular fact all the more clear — despite the time he has missed, he did genuinely love the person you have become. He does now, at least. 
Despite everything he has done to you, or lack thereof, you have managed so much on your own. Despite him and the family not being around when they could've, when they should've, you managed to pave your own path and face all the challenges it brought by yourself - from what Dick could tell anyway. Even if he wasn't fully aware of all you have gone through in his absence, and he knew that as well – you’re still here. You're sitting beside him, looking at the scenery of the park, coffee cup in hand, and just… living in this moment with him.
Dick didn't know when such small things made him feel so happy or content, but in this moment, with you, it's like all he could feel was happy and put together, in a weird way. He doesn't know how to describe it, but now that he's here with you, in your space and presence, he feels… whole. Complete. Like all the missing pieces he didn't even notice were gone, all fell into place when you were around. With you here with him, he feels the happiest he's been in a long while, and he couldn't even begin to explain why.
He's only really known you for a day, but it already felt like he's spent a lifetime with you.
“Hey… Y/n?” He spoke up, breaking the silence between the both of you, looking back at the coffee cup in his hands. “I just want to say that… I'm happy you're here, and that you let me see you.” He begins, slowly looking back at you, an easy but pleasant smile on his face. It was easily the most natural one he's shown you tonight, and his clear unannounced happiness, no matter how light, made the pit in your stomach grow deeper and wider.
Why is he looking at you like that? And why did it hurt to see it now? Why did it relight the fire in your chest, and make it burn - the flames barely tickling your chest from the inside? Why did you feel like this? What did you do to cause him to wear such a smile?
Why now? What was going on?
“I know we haven't talked much, or really hung out, but this… this is nice for what it's worth, and I'm happy that I get the chance to spend this time with you despite everything.” The small bits of moonlight shined in his eyes, almost making Dick appear better than he was. More friendly, charming, and brighter than you saw him as. You couldn't stand the sight. Your dread growing much too big for you to keep looking at him.
So, you look away. Hoping that Dick would get whatever kind of message you were trying to send - and yet, even if he saw it, he didn't bother to decipher it. Words tumbling out of his mouth before he could think them over, too deep in his own feelings to see yours. Though he doesn't seem to mind as he said the words that began to fill his heart, and let them out into the open air. The wind whisking them away, and shoving them into your ears.
“You… mean a lot to me, and I know that, again, we haven’t really done much together, or really spent the most time together either, but- you matter to me. You’re important to me, and I’m sorry that was never made clear before.” He blurts out, heart aching and swelling at his own words, but Dick just couldn’t help himself. He feels like he needs to say something, to say this, and he doesn't want to have to wait any longer to say it. Even if you don’t like him or saw him a certain way, he wants to at least say this. To tell you his truth - his new truth. A truth that is becoming more clear to him as the seconds pass. Seconds he spent with you. “I know that I’ve messed up- a lot, and I know that it isn’t just me that made things turn out like this, but I at least want to let you know that I do care about you. I just…” Dick ran a hand through his hair, pausing for a moment as countless words he wanted to say float around in his head, but he just didn't know how to say them. Or even say them in a way that would get you to understand, or at least hear him out.
He looks away for a moment before looking back at you. Hand dropping and folding around his cup once again. “I’m sorry, for everything. For missing your concerts and performances, and just- everything. I should’ve been there, and even if I was busy, that isn’t an excuse. I should’ve made time for you, I could’ve, and yet it just always slipped my mind and… I should’ve never done that to you. You didn’t- you don’t deserve to go through that, you didn’t have to, and yet you did, and I’m just.. so sorry that now is the time that I’m realizing this. You… you deserve so much more than what we gave you, and I’m sorry if that made you feel any less than what you are- because you are amazing, and wonderful, and bright-!”
“You’re.. you’re a lot of things, and I really couldn’t list them all since I’m still slowly seeing it all for myself. Though even then, we’d be here for a while… wouldn’t we?” Dick chuckles lightly, a tinge of endearment in his tone, with a hint of a softness that was slowly becoming more and more apparent as he went on. His expression softened even more, and yet all you could feel was dread and anger that grew with each sentence that fell out of his mouth.
Was he messing with you? Was Dick trying to make himself feel better about everything, or just mess you up even more? Maybe both?
Why was he saying all of this now? Why tonight? Why now of all times? His words… they couldn’t be true. They can’t be. If they were, if they are – then why did he wait so long? How come he didn’t realize anything sooner? Why couldn’t he realize it sooner? Why now? Why right this minute, when you were almost ready to let go?
Why is he trying to give you hope over a future, a dream, a wish you never thought would come true? That they, indirectly or not, made you believe would never be made into a reality? No matter how much you did, and sacrificed for them behind the scenes? Was he trying to trick you? Did he really believe that you’d allow yourself to become blind again? That you could actually take the little words that he’s saying to you at face value, after all this time? After all of your wasted effort?
Did he really think that he could salvage what little remained of your nonexistent relationship with him, with just a few words and soft smiles? That you would just suddenly be willing to let him back into your life, after you spent the last year or so just trying to make it so that once you left, you’d never have to turn back? After everything he and the others put you through?
You understood that they were busy. That protecting Gotham and Bludhaven were more important to them than you’d ever be. That they care more about their work and their own lives than they never will about anything you’d try to say to them - you understood that well. It was almost impossible not too with how long you’ve had to deal with it, and come to terms with everything over the few months you’ve given yourself to truly soak everything in and reflect. The one time you gave yourself a breather to process all that's happened over the years you wasted on them, and think about how you are going to move forward in your life. How you’re going to deal with the family moving forward, or if you’d ever bother to deal with them at all. Though, you're still in that process, and had yet to really think about what you’d do moving forward.
Yet, Dick just had to show up while you were in that process. He just had to show his face after so long, and do this to you. Torment you with his words, and cause further conflict inside of you that you don’t need. Causing more heartache and pain that you didn’t want, and yet he just had to keep going, he had to keep talking. He couldn’t just walk away again like he had all of those other times when you were fighting to spend time with him, to just mean something to him. Dick just had to show up, and lie to your face about this. He just had to finally notice you, and hurt you more.
“I’m… I’m just really glad I got to see you is all I’m trying to say, I guess. And that I missed you too, in all honesty.”
So he keeps going, it seems. He just has to say that, like you’d believe him. Like you’d truly think that he cared about you more than the criminals in Gotham did. Like he wasn’t just lying to your face in an attempt to try and hurt you more. To crush what little part of your heart you still had given to them, and destroy it entirely. 
Honestly, now it was like he's trying to get you to hate him. To rid of the memories where you used to look up to him, and really tried to see him as your older brother until the reality of it all crushed you. Until reality forced your eyes open, and made you realize the little you had, and the little he cared.
Your own anger was beginning to blind you, and your hatred grew within you - though you hardly found a part of yourself that cared anymore. 
Even if Dick’s words are true to him, they aren't to you, and that’s all you cared about. Since, as far as you know, they were never true until he suddenly felt bad, and this whole thing started.
However, you still try to remain civil. Just taking in a breath, and sighing before looking back at Dick. Exhaustion becoming more evident, anger and hatred beginning to bloom – but you manage to tuck it away for now. No matter how frustrated Dick makes you, you could keep your composer. You could keep yourself together, and by God would you try no matter how much you want to just get up and leave. No matter how much you want to think that he wasn’t worth the time or energy. At least, not anymore.
“Dick, just tell me why you’re here.” You say, getting straight to the point and seemingly completely ignoring what he said before. Not taking his words to heart, no matter how much they sting and add fuel to the flame growing in your chest. 
Dick looks at you confused, a little taken aback by your response, but just pushes it to the side. Only raising a brow, managing to keep up his smile, “What do you mean? I told you already, silly.” He chuckles a bit, his words already pinching at your skin.
“I’m here to see you.”
‘Bullshit.’ You immediately thought, but don’t say out loud. Not yet, anyway.
“It’s obvious that something’s going on, I mean- do you hear the sounds echoing throughout Gotham? Or, hell, how quiet it is besides said noises?” You ask, tone shifting with every word that spilled out of your mouth, undertone unclear, but Dick didn’t like it. “You don’t have to explain what’s going on, but please, just tell me how or if I can help so that we can both go on with our nights? I know you don’t have time for this. Both of us don’t.” 
Dick can only furrow his brows in response, his confusion growing the more you spoke, but also worried about the tone you’re using with him. A tone that was growing increasingly harsh.
“What are you talking about? I never said I needed your help with anything, and didn’t I already mention that the others are handling the situation?” Dick said, genuinely confused, and yet that only seems to make the flame in your chest burn brighter.
“Then what are you doing here? Why are we even talking right now if you don’t need anything from me?” You ask, voice rising in volume a bit before you bring it back down. The little stings Dick’s words left on your skin turning into a grip around your heart. 
“I’ve already told you, Y/n…. I just wanted to see you.” Dick said again, growing a little more worried now.
“Yes, but why? What made you want to see me so badly that you even went out of your way to find out where I live?” You couldn’t help but ask, frustration growing but so did your desperation. Over what, you don’t know, but all you knew was that you want this to be over. You want to go home. You want to be away from Dick. From them.
Even if your home probably wouldn’t feel as safe anymore now that they knew where it is, and you knew that too, but couldn't find it in yourself to care. Anywhere that wasn't in the immediate vicinity of Dick felt better than being here, with him at arm's length.
“I need a reason to see my younger sibling now? I can’t just come visit them?” Dick asks, still worried and confused, yes, but an odd tone of sarcasm seemed to develop under his tongue.
“After months of no contact? After all that’s happened?” You say as a meaningless, humorless laugh escapes you before your voice drops and cements itself, “Yes. Yes you do, because you’ve never visited me before. You’ve never gone out of your way like this, not even to see me in my own room. So why now? Why tonight? Why come see me?”
Your words stung Dick, and you can tell with how he flinches a bit at your words, if only for a brief moment. He even cringes a little, as if they have physically hurt him, but you didn’t react much. You want to know why, because it made no sense to you, and by God did you deserve an answer.
There is no reason why he should’ve come to see you, none. You aren’t related to him, and even if you are by law, he’s never treated you like family in the past - just someone else who lives in the manor, but over time you began to believe that he started to forget that too, with how he’d grow increasingly surprised by seeing you in person when he'd occasionally visit.
You meant nothing to him, last you checked. So what was so important that he and the others needed to find out where you live, and seek you out like this? What was going on?
From how you look at Dick, he can tell you wanted to know. That you want a ‘real’ answer, one that you’d accept, anyway. Along with the fact that you aren’t going to take your words back, finding them to be nothing less than true, and even if they are, they don’t hurt any less. Especially considering how far he’s come today. How much he’s seen, and how his view is beginning to change. How you were growing on him without even knowing it, making him realize that some of it isn’t even you to begin with. Though there wasn’t much he could do about that, not right now. Not with you getting worked up like this, and not with how he's beginning to hurt too.
The truth hurt, it almost always did. Never sparing anyone, and almost acting as a sword rather than weight. A dagger than another page, but paper cuts did exist for a reason – he supposes.
“I.. I know that it might seem hard to believe, considering everything, but that really is all there is to it.” Dick says, trying to explain as he clutches onto the coffee cup in his hands, “I just want to see you because I was worried, and I… I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That’s all.”
“Then what about the others? Why find out where I live? What’s with all the noise?” Your desperation was becoming a little clearer as you spoke quickly, the questions falling out of your mouth as your heart began to squeeze tightly. The smoke that the fire in your chest was creating, started to reach and fill your lungs little by little with each passing second.
“The others are busy taking care of the city, and how else am I supposed to see you? You weren’t answering any of my or Tim’s calls or texts. We…” Dick drags on a little before just sighing, looking dejected, “I was worried about you- I am worried about you. I thought something happened, and I had to know if something did. Is that so wrong? Can I not check on my younger siblings anymore?”
“That's not what I meant, and you know that.” You point out straight away, but did falter the slightest bit when he mentions how you were ignoring them trying to contact you earlier. However, you didn't back down. “And both of you just started contacting me today. I didn't have any time to answer either of you before you showed up at my door.”
“Really? You had absolutely no time at all to pick up the phone? Not even send a quick message, or even read our texts?”
“I was busy? And was doing something else, so I couldn't get to the phone right away.”
“For several hours? Y/n, you've got to be kidding me.” Dick chuckles out, obviously not believing you, which ticks you off even more.
“What, so I can't do other things? I have to be at your every beck and call, now?” You scoff, rolling your eyes. “None of you have ever contacted me first, so I'm sorry that I didn't have any time to respond to whatever you both had to say. I have my own life to deal with, you do know that, right?”
“That's not what I-” Dick cuts himself off, just letting out a sigh before speaking again after thinking over how to reword what he wants to say, “Look, just- what was so important that made it so you couldn't answer the phone?” He asks instead, searching your expression for something, and furrowing his brows when he couldn't find it.
“... That's none of your business.” You answer instead, narrowing your eyes at him a little. Whatever you did in your life, he didn't have to know. He doesn't have the right to know, not anymore. You may have been willing to offer him this one chance to ask something from you to help with whatever is going on, but that was all, and where your generosity ended. It wasn't a chance to reconnect, or to rebuild what never was, and still isn't. 
If there's anything that this whole situation has told you, it's that you shouldn't have tried in the first place - and that maybe, just maybe, you should've left sooner. That was clear to you now. 
“...” It's like Dick could tell things were getting worse this way. He didn't know what was causing it or how, but he could feel it. Especially with how you were growing increasingly upset, and how he was as well. 
So, he tried to settle down a little and just took a breath. At this rate, he could only dread how things would get, and so he at least tried to change the direction of things a bit. Yet, he still couldn't help himself either. Maybe he didn't deserve to know, but he did want to ask. 
“Look, just-” he tries to find the words to say, to not make this whole thing worse than it already is, and settles on a simpler question. One he figures you can handle, one he hopes does what he wants it to do. “Can you at least tell me why you keep ignoring me when I say that I'm here to see you? Or at least why you just… brush it off?” Dick manages to say, eyes never once leaving you, but for a different reason this time.
He just wants you to open up, but how could you do that when he kept you out for so long? When he locked that door so long ago, and forgot where he left the key? Leaving him to never know of the chair you left right under the handle.
“... What do you-”
“You know what I'm talking about, Y/n, just… please.” Dick almost pleads, which makes you uncomfortable. Causing you to press your lips into a thin line once again, “I don't want this to…” he doesn't want to say it outloud. He couldn't bring himself to. Especially when he doesn't want it to be true. To be made into reality.
“I just want to know, Y/n. So please, just tell me? Because I don't understand why you keep avoiding it, or just don't acknowledge it at all.” Dick says instead, which causes you to grow quiet in the process. 
“...”
You couldn't think of anything to say, just being able to look at him before glancing away and taking in a breath of your own. You couldn't bring yourself to answer the question because - what were you supposed to say? What are you supposed to say? The truth? Or make up a lie? Though even if you picked one or the other, would it be for yourself? Or for Dick?
You didn't know, and a special kind of uncertainty came with that, jabbing your gut and making the flame within you crackle harshly. You hate this. You hate this more than what their inaction did to you, and almost as much as the realization that it's because of them that you're in this position to begin with.
“Why do you think?” You begin, emotions and thoughts swarming in your head and squeezing your heart. You want to not care, to brush it all off as you have before, but only find yourself hurting despite everything. Why does your chest hurt so much? Why did it feel like something was pressing against it, threatening to pierce it? “Why do you think that I'm ‘ignoring’ it or just… dismiss it?”
Dick hates how you look away, and the swirl of emotion he saw in your eyes when you looked at him before. Which only made his own emotions grow like a heavy weight, threatening to fall on him. To crush him, and only leave the tiniest parts of himself behind. Parts that still hung onto that false hope he made himself.
He knew, or at least had an idea, but he ignored it. Dick wants to hear it from you, even if he doesn't know what he's hoping for with that. He knows of his faults, and yet not the entirety of them - at least, that was the impression he was getting from all of this.
He isn't blind, but there are only so many things he could let himself see before the ugliness of it all rears its head at him, and snarls. Before the quiet part that he refuses to glance at, becomes loud.
“I… I don't know,” Dick manages to say after a moment, still looking at you as he searches for something, anything that will point things in a different direction. Something that will give the little hope he has anything to cling on to.
Something he doesn't find.
He takes in another breath, “Can you please just… tell me? I do want to know, I really do- so just, please. Tell me why you keep ignoring what I'm saying?”
“I'm not-” You cut yourself off, speaking before you could come up with a response, the words tumbling out of your mouth quickly before you caught yourself and take in a slow, uneven breath. “I'm not ignoring what you're saying. I'm not, but- just…” You drag on before finally letting out a sigh. Some of the tension freeing itself from your body, but not enough for it to let you truly calm down or relax. 
“What do you expect me to do? To say?” You finally manage to voice it outloud, to ask as you look back at Dick briefly. With the moon trying its hardest to peek through the clouds as they begin to fill and crowd the sky. “You haven't checked up on me in all the years I was in the manor, and, hell, I doubt you even know where my room is-”
“I know where it is.”
“- and even if you do, that doesn't change what happened. Or, really, what didn't.” You narrow your eyes at Dick's sudden words, but don't comment on them as you continue, voice wavering slightly, “You've… never checked up on me before, or even asked me if I was okay- we barely even greeted each other, and I didn't see you around all that often. I didn't get to. So I'm sorry if it's hard for me to believe that you just suddenly care, or want to check up on me after all this time.” You say, still biting your tongue and holding yourself back from sharing more than you should. From giving more than you already have.
“...” Dick's lips press into a thin line before he goes to speak again, “I understand that, but… why can't that change now? Why can't I care about you now?” 
“It isn't about what you can and can't do, Dick. Nor what can be changed now or not, it's…” A quick, small groan escapes you as you try to gather the words you want to say, and finally let them out when you do, “it's what I'm used to, Dick. That's just how it is.”
Finally, dread made its way into Dick’s heart as well, “So… that's it? You're just ‘used to it’? And I can't change that?”
“I don’t know, can you?” You asked sarcastically in a dead tone, already tired of all of this, and yet the fire in your chest continues to burn ever so brightly. “You haven’t really done a good job of that thus far, if that's what you’re trying to do. I’ll say that much.” Your words hurt, you could tell right away. The way he looked at you said everything, but you didn’t try to look deeper than what presented itself on the surface. 
“This isn’t some kind of…. ‘reconnecting session’, stuff like that doesn’t really matter. I thought something serious- something important was going on, or had happened, that’s why I bothered with… all of this.” You point out and explain, only watching as the expression on Dick’s face morphed into something else. Something you couldn’t decipher, but didn’t like looking at. A face that made your stomach twist, with dread pouring out of every crevasse it could manage.
“And why would you think that? I don’t remember saying anything that would hint at that, and even then I would’ve said it outright.”
“You suddenly appeared at my door in the suit, and at some point was banging on it. How could I not think something was going on? Or that you didn’t need something from me? That something serious wasn’t happening? Especially when I don’t remember telling any of you where I live-”
“Okay, okay. I… I get it,” He didn’t, at least maybe not to the extent one would hope he would, but he didn’t want to argue. Not here, and not with you. Especially not when he was really beginning to see you. “But still… I want to change that. I want to make it up to you and fix things. Is that so bad?”
“...” You had no response to that, but even if you did, what could you say? You had imagined countless instances like this, but those situations weren’t real — this one was. In those scenarios, you always had something to say, rather it be good or bad, and you always knew what to do. Yet here, now that it was actually happening, you had nothing. You didn’t know what to do or say, and even if you did have some things you wanted to just let spill out, you kept them in. You didn’t want things to get worse either, but the more Dick talked, the harder that became.
Why couldn’t he just be the person from your thoughts and dreams? The person you always saw him as until now?
“I just…” Dick tries to gather his thoughts, not exactly liking your silence but trying to push on anyway. He finally had a chance, and he’d be damned to not take it. “I want to make things right, and yeah, maybe it's late- really, um, late, but I still want to try.” He manages to say, taking a small, quick breath before he continues, an easy smile trying to settle on his face.
“You deserve better, and I want to be better for you. Things may not be the same, and sure, it might be a bit awkward-” He chuckles slightly in between his words, “-but I think that we can… work it out if you just give it a try. Give me a chance-”
“But I did.” You manage to say, cutting Dick off. He has to fight for his smile to not falter immediately, unaware of how your heart pounded harshly in your chest, the fire it held growing and clawing at the bars of its cage that was your ribs and flesh. Scorching your lungs, and the smoke causing your throat to close, making it harder to breathe.
“... What?” Dick said, partially confused but still trying to at least seem optimistic. A weight of its own beginning to press down on him.
“... What do you think I did all of this time?” You ask, looking away for a moment, glancing up at the covered moon before looking back at Dick, “What do you think I did all of those years I spent at the manor? Before I decided to move out, and be on my own?” 
“...” Dick didn’t have an answer, not one he said right away, anyway. Not one that wouldn’t make him look bad, but he didn’t know what was worse. Staying quiet when he knew a part of it, or saying the part he knew and risk being wrong, revealing how he still didn’t know the full picture despite everything. Despite getting a glance into a life he knew he wasn’t involved in, and feeling more guilty all the while.
However, you decide that his small bit of silence was enough of an answer, and just as Dick opened his mouth to say something, you spoke again. “Most of my time in the manor I’ve spent trying to give you chances- to give the others a chance. Trying to give opportunities to just do something, try anything, and… well,” You look away fully this time, caressing the coffee cup in your hand, it’s dying warm doing little to help you, causing you to draw your attention to the shaded greenery of the park instead.
“We both know how that turned out.”
If your words didn’t hurt him before, they definitely did now. Even as Dick fought to keep that smile of his up, it was pointless. You were right, and he knew that. Even if he didn’t know the true extent of your words, he was at least aware of the times where you’d try to get them to see you perform, to hear your songs and listen to your music that had gotten you this far. He knew that much, and yet he still couldn’t help but try. He wants to mean more to you, to do what he hasn’t done up until this point, to truly be your older brother, to be your family - despite how long he’s been unable to do that.
“I… I know, and I’m sorry.” Dick could only say that much, even if it did little in the long run, and a part of himself could tell that his words only made whatever you were feeling worse as you inched away from him, the sight of the small action breaking his heart even more.
“Maybe that doesn’t mean much, but it’s true. I’m just… sorry that things turned out this way. That we- that I never noticed how hard you were trying until now, and even if it is late, I want to be honest and say that I’m sorry.” He adds, finally managing to look away as well as he looked down at the cup in his hands, thoughts swarming and eating away at his heart. Even if they were going too fast for him to process them all, they hurt him all the same and caused his worry to grow. “I’m sorry for everything, for never noticing what was going on or the extent of it, or appreciating the effort you tried to put in for our attention, for just not… being around. You deserve better- and I want to give that. I want to give you want you deserve and finally be-”
“Stop.” You said under your breath, voice wavering as you take in a shaky breath. Yet, even as it falls upon deaf ears, and Dick couldn’t make out exactly what you said, he still pauses for a moment before speaking again.
“... I just want to fix things, Y/n.” Dick says instead, but it doesn’t make you feel any better, nothing does. 
“You mean a lot to me.” You just want him to stop. 
“And maybe that’s… weird to hear with everything that’s happened. But it is true, and I’m sorry I never made that clear before.” You want him to stop lying to you, to stop trying to make you feel better. You’ve been doing fine on your own without him, without them, and so the only thing you wanted now was for Dick to stop and leave. To act like he had before, and go back to ignoring you.
“So… let’s change that, okay? I… I want to spend more time with you.” You want him to shut up. You want it so bad that it hurts to hear him talk as he goes on and on. His voice ringing in your ears to a point you’re convinced that they’ll bleed if this continues on for any longer. If he continues to talk for any longer. 
“I’m being honest, I really want to try and be your-”
“Stop… please, just- just stop.” You manage to say, voice small and wavering as you try to take in another breath. You want to be unbothered, unhurt, painless, and numb, but you can’t and you don’t know why. You thought you had gotten used to this, and you had, but to hear that - to hear the words you’ve wanted to hear for so many years - that hurt more than anything else. The pain was indescribable, and its result only made that fire grow, the flames scratching at your chest even harder, and your heart bleeding as a result.
Suddenly, all the progress you’ve made over all the months you’ve been away feel useless now. Reduced to nothing in Dick’s presence as his words stripped down your walls in the most violent, volatile ways possible.
Once upon a time, you fought to have a single conversation with him that lasted more than just a few short exchanges, and now you’d do anything to have that back. For him to go back to the Dick you grew up with, the one you fought to even have to look at you for more than a few seconds.
“You can’t do this to me.” You said without thinking, voice weak and shaky as you scramble to keep yourself together, to hold back tears that you refuse to spill – refusing to shed any more over them. Refusing to let all of your progress go to waste just like that.
You were happy, you have been happy these past few months, and you refuse for that to be taken away from you.
“What? Y/n, what do you mean-” Dick tries to speak, but you don’t give him the luxury, not after this. Not after what he’s been doing to you.
“You can’t do this to me,” You repeat, trying to breathe and fight past the smoke building in your lungs, nearly gasping for air as your teeth begin to grind, “you can’t- you just can’t. So stop… please just..” You try to take in another breath, no matter how small it is or strangled it feels.
“Just. Stop.”
“...” It’s like no matter what Dick tries to do, things end up becoming worse, and he hates that he doesn’t know why. He can't understand why. 
Clearly he’s hurting you, he could see that no matter how much he doesn’t want to, but he doesn’t know what he’s saying that’s hurting you. He doesn’t know what he’s doing that’s causing you to become so upset. 
After all, don’t you want this? Don’t you want him to try? For your efforts to be reciprocated? Don’t you want to be family too? For him to try and be what he’s supposed to have been all of this time? Don’t you want him to try and be your big brother? 
You couldn’t have given up yet, right? There was no way you could have. You couldn’t have given up after all you have done, after all the awards and such he saw that you’ve earned over the years – awards that were still in your room. You couldn’t have given up. That's impossible, there’s no way. No one would throw all of that away, right? No one would do all that you have, only to just put it all behind them - not anyone that Dick could think of at the moment.
… He hated how he thought of it anyway. How the thought creeped into his mind, and remained there. Letting his dread and worry grow as reality began to sneak its way into his brain. 
Dick doesn’t want to think about it – let along consider the idea, but this isn’t about him. This isn’t about what he thinks or feels.
This is about you, and despite his words, he hates that he had forgotten that already.
“Y/n,” He calls out to you softly, really trying this time, and you hate that detail with all of your heart, “can you just please tell me what’s wrong?” Dick’s words make you physically pause, even causing your rushing thoughts to come to a halt. They repeat in your head once more, and you can only think one thing.
Is he seriously asking you that?
“I know that you’re upset, but I want to work through this with you. So, just tell me so I can help, okay-?”
“Stop- God, just please stop, Dick.” You manage to say, already getting slightly choked up before you manage to shakily exhale, trying your hardest to keep it together as your heart squeezes and your chest tightens. You can’t bring yourself to look at Dick, but your teeth grind as you scramble to keep the flames eating up your body from the inside, trapped and hidden away.
“You can’t do this to me,” You say more desperately than you wanted to, a few tears developing that you fight back violently to keep them from spilling, your own teeth getting crushed and feel as if they were beginning to chip and break with how hard they’re grinding against each other. “You can’t- you can’t-” You struggle to get the words out, nearly gasping for air as that sickening, thick smoke threatens to escape your lungs.
“You can’t do this to me, you can’t give me hope.” You finally say, voice straining as your breath trembles. When you finally do look at Dick, neither of your expressions are good ones. Both filled with mixes of emotions, but his was more deep and almost controlled, while yours was frantic and ever changing.
“... What?”
“After all of this time, after everything- everything I’ve been put through. Everything I’ve been trying to move on from-” You struggle to breathe momentarily, but manage to get yet another gasp of air before continuing, “you can’t just try and give me hope like that. You can’t. You just- can’t.”
Now it’s Dick’s turn to pause as he processes what you said, each word making the weight in his chest sink deeper and deeper until it reaches his stomach. The very thing he seems to dread is becoming more real with every minute that passes and he hates that more than anything. He wants to ignore it, to push past it, but how can he do that when it’s right in front of him? How can he do that when something worse could be laying underneath everything?
He doesn’t want to think about it, and so he doesn’t and tries to tuck it away as he goes on to say, “But… why? Why can’t I give that to you? Why can’t I try to help you?”
“Dick, please, for the love of god just-” You want to say it, you really do, but manage to hold yourself back with the little self control you have, and simply just take in the biggest breath you can manage, and sigh just as deeply. “Nevermind, and just- you know what? We’re… we’re done here.” You say instead. Placing your coffee cup on the bench, not even caring that you barely finished the drink, and move to stand up.
“What? Wait- what?” Dick asks, sitting up and tensing when you stand, but not making a move just yet, even if it was clear that he’d do something. What, you don’t know, but you didn’t notice anyway as you were too focused on yourself and getting out of this situation.
“We’re done here, what else do I have to say?” You don’t look back at Dick, instead continue to try and steady your breath. Trying to calm yourself down, and finally do something to quell the burning flames inside your chest, “This isn’t going anywhere, and we aren’t discussing anything important, so… let’s call it here. I’m leaving.” You say outright, being blunt this time as you make a move to step away-
Only to be stopped when Dick suddenly grabs your wrist, his grasp a touch too tight.
“Hold on- who said you get to decide that?” Dick asks, having sprung up to grab you as swiftly and quickly as he did, a flash of panic showing on his face before he pushed it aside and swallowed his nerves. He tries to manage another smile, even if it doesn’t reach his eyes yet again, “Let’s just talk about this, okay? There’s no need to overreact.”
“Overreact…?” You glance back at him, physically feeling as all of your previous progress to calm yourself was quickly diminishing, the fire only roaring to life at Dick’s words, and it’s like he could feel it too with how his smile faltered the smallest bit before he tried to pick it up again.
“Okay- maybe not overreact, but we can still talk about this… can’t we?” He says instead, as if realizing his mistake once you point it out. Scrambling for something, anything.
You don’t say anything right away, your chest only hurting even more, “And talk about what, exactly?” You ask, just barely being able to hear the clouds overhead groan in displeasure, “What is there to talk about? We have nothing to discuss, and so we should just end things here.”
An airy laugh escapes Dick, almost as he can’t believe what you’re saying, and yet he continues to stare at you. All he does is raise a brow, his heart pounding as that weight in his stomach drops further, “About… everything?” He says, as if a little unsure of how to word it, but keeps going anyway, “About the family, about us, about you- everything! What isn’t there to talk about?” He counters, furrowing his brows a little.
He knows you want to leave, but he can’t bring himself to let you go. Not when he doesn’t know when he’ll have this chance again. Not when he’s so close – but to what, he doesn’t know anymore. All he knows is that it deals with you, and that’s enough for him.
“... But there isn’t anything important to talk about.” You point out as if it was obvious, raising a brow of your own as you look back at Dick, ignoring how the longer Dick held onto your wrist, the heavier your dread became. Nearly making it impossible to breathe despite how you were trying to act now,  “Again, I even bothered to do any of this because I thought something was going on or that you needed something from me, and I turned out to be wrong, so there’s no other reason for me to be here.” You try to be logical, or seem that way, anyway. You try to give whatever bullshit reason you can, saying anything that you hope would just get Dick away from you and just let you go.
“...” Dick hated your words with a burning passion he didn’t even know he was capable of feeling, and the breathy laugh of disbelief that escaped him only furthered his own change of heart, “So I’m not important to you? Our family isn’t important to you? Because of everything that’s happened? So our effort to change everything isn’t important to you? It matters that little to you now that you’ve lived on your own for… what, a few months?”
“What are you talking about? You’re asking me that as if you know me, and- news flash, you don’t. So get a hold of yourself- and let me go already!” You yank your wrist away from Dick’s grasp, pulling it back towards you harshly.
The moment your wrist leaves his grasp, his hand twitches, but he manages to hold himself back and just let his hand fold into a fist as it falls back to his side. His eyes pinned on you once again, never leaving you, “Why can’t I get to know you now? Why can’t that change, Y/n?” He asks, his own tone changing without him noticing, making it sharper than he meant it to be, “Why can’t you just let me in?”
The visceral hatred those words spawn in you is hotter than words can describe, and felt as if it was burning right through your chest, melting your muscles and organs down to nothing. You not only struggled to breathe, but it hurt to even take in the smallest breath. “‘Why’…? You’re asking me, ‘why’?” A small, airy, pathetic laugh escapes you, a look of disbelief clear on your face.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s because of the years that have passed? That every attempt I’ve made to do what you’re asking me right now- was ignored until I didn’t try anymore? Until I go off and try to actually live my life, that you ask for me to let you in? For things to change?” You almost spat out, barely managing to take in a steady breath, “I don’t know, Dick. I don’t know what you want me to say.”
Dick could barely pull himself together. Everything was falling apart, and even if he could see that, he could barely get a grasp on his own emotions that he was failing to calm down. He wants you to understand, and he wants to understand you too, but god was everything making it so hard. He just couldn’t understand why you were being so stubborn about this, and why you wouldn’t just hear him out. 
So, in the midst of his own frustration, he tsked and spoke without thinking.
“I haven’t done anything to you! Why are you acting like this?” The moment those words left Dick, his eyes widened and he scrambled to recover, “Wait, I didn’t mean-”
“Isn’t that the point?” You cut Dick off, the smoke finally escaping your lungs as you furrowed your brows, chest tightening as more unwanted tears began to build, “That you did nothing? That you- and everyone else didn’t do a goddamn thing?”
“You try to act like I owe you something. Like I owe you this. Like I owe you my time, but you know what? You really don’t, because back then? I clearly didn’t deserve yours. I wasn’t worth your time, and now, years later, you think that I owe you mine? That you can just say whatever the hell you want to my face, because I dared to try and be respectful and civil and do all of this shit for you?” There was no holding back anymore, not when Dick dared to say something like that to your face when you’ve been trying so hard to act calm and civil around him. To give him a chance to say his piece and leave.
The one time you tried to do something for them, for him, after months of being away from all of them, and he dared to say something like that to you?
“Then think again. Because unlike before, I have some god damn self respect and won’t stand for your bullshit anymore.” You spat out as the sky above growled even louder, “You don’t get to say that to me, Grayson.”
Yet, despite your words, a single measly tear manages to slip past your defenses and slowly, painstakingly roll down your cheek. The clouds above seem to have taken that as some sort of sign, as a few small drops of water fell from the sky and hit the pavement under your feet.
Dick pauses after that, if only for a moment as he looks over your expression before sighing. “Okay- fine, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that… but,” he took a short breath before saying, “that still doesn’t answer my question, Y/n.”
“...” All you could do was stare at him. Another pathetic, airy laugh escaping you all the while. He really was unbelievable.
“Which one? The one where you asked why things can’t change? Why I won’t ‘let you in’? Or why I’m ‘acting like this’?” Dick clenches his hands into fists, squeezing them before he lets go.
“Why can’t things change, why can’t the relationship between us change?” You hate the tone he used and how the look he gave you expressed and showed more than words could describe. A certain desperation in his eyes that you wish didn’t exist, that you didn’t notice.
“You never showed me that it could change. That it would always stay the same as it has for the past few years-”
“But why does back then matter? Why can’t we focus on now? On this?” He gestured between the two of you, “Can’t we just- I don’t know… move on from that?” You didn’t know if you wanted to laugh, or actually allow yourself to cry, especially when a few more raindrops fell from the sky. He couldn’t be serious, could he? Did Dick actually just say that, and to you of all people?
“Move on?” You say, a few more tears spilling despite your efforts to stop them, their touch burning your skin and sinking into it like acid, “You want me to move on from that? Move on from the years of my life that you weren’t a part of? To just forget all that’s happened?”
“You don’t have to forget… maybe just, push it aside so that we can work on this! On us…” Dick says, dragging on a little before he takes in another quick breath, “Is that so bad? Don’t you want to be family-?”
“You don’t get to say that to me.” You immediately cut him off the moment Dick even tries to mention family again, “You don’t get to say what I want or what I have to do- after everything I’ve done for you! For the others-! You don’t get to say that to me anymore!”
“Y/n, please, just calm down-”
“No! You don’t get to do this to me! To say all of this shit to my face-” You struggle to speak, your words catching in your throat and nearly choking you, but you manage to continue. To continue to say your part, and finally say the words your heart has been longing to say, to give yourself this much, to finally feel this out, “Do you even know how much I’ve done for you- all of you? How much time I spent doing all of these things I thought you guys liked just so that I had a chance to hold a conversation with any of you? To just mean something? To actually be part of the family, only for no one to show up-?”
“No one asked you to do those things! No one asked you to do anything!” Dick snaps, but immediately tries to reel it back, “I understand that things didn’t work out before, but I’m here now, aren’t I?”
Your brows furrow even more, and your teeth grind so hard that it feels like they’re chipping away, “No one had to ask! Hell- none of you ended up caring anyway! It was a waste!” You shout, voice raising the more you talked, tears mixing with the drizzling rain, “It was for you- I did everything I could think of to just talk to you, and now you want me to do more for you? After everything I’ve already done? After all the effort that was put to waste because of you?” At this rate, you knew you weren’t talking to just Dick anymore. Instead, he acted as an extension, in your mind. An extension to something bigger, something greater than himself. Something more than he was.
Dick falters, but just sighs again, “No one told you to do all of that,Y/n]. You didn’t have to do anything but just try to-”
“Try to what, Grayson? Try to what?” You cut him off, eyes swirling with untold emotion as your gaze pierces into him, “Go on, tell me what else I had to do. What I should’ve done.”
“...” Dick looks at you for a moment before speaking again with a small huff, “You could’ve tried a different approach, or maybe, talked to us?”
“...” You don’t know what you want to do more; try to strangle Dick, cry harder, or leave again after trying to kill him. “You did not just say that.” You manage to laugh out, but it’s broken and far from genuine. The humor in it long gone, and all that was left was a sickening, uncomfortable emptiness where it once remained. 
“Well, I’m just saying-”
“You did not just say that shit to me when you’ve been the one shooting down every conversation I’ve tried to have with you. You- the person who’s supposed to be the ‘family man’, and we’ve barely even talked. And let me tell you now, I’m not the one who hasn’t been trying to talk or avoiding it.” A pained smile crept up your face as you laughed breathlessly in between your words once more. Not even caring anymore as you let the fire burst from your chest, and have its ashes and smoke spill out of you.
Dick narrows his eyes and furrows his brows a bit, “‘Avoiding it’? What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t been avoiding you-”
“Then please explain where the hell you’ve been all of my life until now? Why you could never follow through with what you’d always tell me? Why you come to me now, when I gave you years to do or say anything?”
“I… I was busy, okay? You know that,” He tried to lighten his tone with a chuckle but it did little to help, and only showed his own strain, “I don’t always have time to come to Gotham-”
“But you make the time to do it anyway. You make time to visit, especially when it comes to Damian.” When Dick falls silent again for a moment, you take in a shaky breath and sniffle slightly, feeling awful in every sense of the word, “I guess I just wasn’t worth it, right? I wasn’t worthy of your oh so precious time, but everyone else was. Something else was.” Your expression darkens slightly as your strained smile drops completely.
“There’s always something else, right? Something else to do, someone else to see. You could make time, alright, but just couldn’t for me.”
“That’s not what I’m saying, Y/n.”
“Then please, enlighten me, what are you saying, Grayson?” Dick hates every time you say that, every time you refer to him by his last name. It feels like there's a deeper meaning to it that he refuses to see, and just hearing you call him that instead of anything else only forces him to remember that. To remind him of his own faults, both past and present.
Maybe he'd wonder how he keeps messing things up or why he keeps saying everything besides what he actually wants to say, but he's too deep in his own feelings to even think about that. Even if the answer laid within the action itself.
“Saving the city- having to look after Bludhaven and Gotham sometimes, and even the world on occasion- doesn't really give anyone a lot of time to do certain things. You know I'm not over all the time, and that I'm not always… y'know.”
“Dick Grayson?”
“Yeah! And just…” he took a breath before sighing once again, “All I'm saying is that a different approach could've been taken.” You hate how every word he said only seemed to validate concerns you had in the past. Thoughts that still liked to linger every now and then when you caught yourself still thinking about what could've been, and if certain things happened, would that really change anything?
It's funny that only now were you truly beginning to think otherwise.
“So… what?” You say in a dry voice, “Are you saying that I should’ve been just like you? Just like the others- and give up my dream, what I wanted to do- give up my passion, because at least then I would be able to talk to you? Because I would have a higher chance of even seeing you?”
“That's not what I mean, Y/n, and you know that-”
“No. No I don't. I don't know that, and honestly? I have no idea what the hell you’re even trying to tell me right now besides that I should’ve tried harder. That I didn't do enough, because clearly- spending all of my time trying to do things for you, to accommodate for the whole fucking family that couldn't even stand for me to be in their presence for even a few seconds-” You took a shaky breath, more tears spilling out and escaping you, more falling than you would've liked, “that's not enough. Wasting my life away and trying to do everything I could to the point where it put my health at risk- that wasn't enough. I should’ve just dropped everything and followed everyone else instead of trying to find an alternative, because there was no alternative, right? Is that what you're trying to say?”
For once, Dick was speechless and had nothing to say, and his silence only made you hurt more. It's like you were waiting for what felt like the inevitable.
“What else am I supposed to do, huh? What else haven't I done? Is nothing else good enough for you? Is that really the only way I could've been with you? To see you, to actually talk with you and all the others? To be part of the family? Is that what it would've taken?” You're nearly gasping for air at this rate, with every word you say only carving deeper into your heart, and getting harder to say as you struggle to voice them aloud. Nearly choking on both your words and tears, and yet you push on.
“Did I really have to give up on my passion- my dreams to have a better chance to be something to you?”
“Y/n, that's not what I mean. Doing it wouldn't have gotten in the way-”
“You know that's bullshit! You act like the line of work you do doesn't take over your life! Like you don't think about it everyday- like you aren't constantly in danger!” At this point you're shouting and you barely even realize it, tears flowing freely now as they burn into your cheeks and crash down on the pavement below, “Is it so bad that I don't want that? That I don't want to put my life at risk? That I don't want to live your life?!”
“Maybe you enjoy that. Maybe you like that chaos and constantly putting your life on the line- but some people don't! Maybe you're made for that kind of life, but I'm not! I want to live my own life without having to be even more worried about my own well-being and safety!”
“Y/n, please- calm down! I don't want to fight, I-” Dick took a quick breath, his own heart squeezing as he tries to remain stable, to remain calm. Even if it felt like he was watching his whole world crumble before him, each tear you shed stabbing into him, and every word that spilled out just twisted the knives as they dug deeper into his chest and body. “I understand what you mean, but you have to realize-”
“Realize what? That everything I did was for nothing?” Thinking it was one thing, but saying it out loud was another. The words weighed heavy on your tongue, and the more you tried to say them the more choked up you became. “That all of my effort was in vain, and I should’ve given up while I was ahead? Because that's the impression I'm getting right now-”
“That's not what I meant, Y/n. I… I didn't mean it like that.”
“But how else could you have possibly meant it? How else am I supposed to interpret that?” You laughed again, but it was just as sad and pathetic as the last, “You can't expect me to just know these things, Grayson, especially considering everything and just-” You felt like you were going to tear your hair out, like you were going to collapse and truly break. Yet you managed to stand, and speak again no matter how weak your voice is.
“You were never there for me, none of you were.” Your hands are shaking and your face burns, voice cracking in every way possible, and you hate this feeling. Yet above all else, you hate how he made you feel like this, “I could show up at the manor, bloodied and bruised, and no one- no one would notice or bat an eye. I could be wearing a cast and have crutches, and yet not a single person besides Alfred would see it or comment on it. I could be at the hospital and no one would show up, not one of you-”
“Wait… what-?” Dick tried to speak, but you wouldn’t let him, you couldn’t.
“You were never there when I needed you. You never checked up on me, you barely even noticed me-” again, you suck in another breath, barely able to take it in, “do you know what I’ve had to deal with on my own? How much it cost me? How much it hurt me-?”
“Wait, wait- hold on! You’ve been hurt?” Dick managed to cut you off, “I… I never heard about this.”
“Of course you haven't!” You couldn't help but laugh, more tears spilling and leaving scars on your face with how badly they burned into your skin, “You hardly even noticed, how can you expect to hear about it?”
“You didn't tell me- you didn't tell anyone! How- how am I supposed to know about these things when you won't even tell anyone? When you won't tell me?” Dick can feel himself begin to tear up, but he keeps it all down. He was frustrated, and even if it wasn't directed towards you, he couldn't keep his big mouth shut. Even if by the looks of things - you couldn't either, even if that was for a different reason.
Maybe you both were one in the same, but different in some ways. Dick would feel stupid if he noticed it, but of course he couldn't — not at the moment. Not with how things are going.
If only he noticed that sooner. If only he had done a lot of things sooner – then both of you wouldn't be in this position. You wouldn't be in this position.
Yet, he couldn't help himself. Both of you couldn't, in a way.
“I can't read your mind, Y/n! I'm not even at the manor half the time- how am I supposed to notice? You can't just expect me to suddenly know-”
“But you visit enough for the others? For any one of them you'd come rushing over, especially if it was for Damian-”
“At least he tells me when he gets hurt!”
“Are we talking about the same kid right now? God, and here I thought that he was your favorite.”
“‘Favorite’?” Dick chuckled out humorlessly, feeling something in him break at your words. “I don't have any favorites-”
“That is such bullshit, Grayson, and you fucking know that.” You couldn't help but sneer, everything you tried to keep inside finally rearing its ugly head as the lid you tried to put on your emotions flew off, leaving you feeling nothing but unapologetic rage. “You play favorites all the time, but I wouldn't know that, would I? I'm probably your least-”
“Don't say that. You're not. You never were.”
“Right! Yeah, you're right. After all, I'm not even on the list, am I? How can I be the least when you barely even acknowledge me-?”
“I didn't-” Dick just cuts himself off, sighing before he continues, not being able to stop the scoff that slips past, “I didn't mean it like that. You're important to me, Y/n, how many times do I have to say that? It's like you're trying to put words in my mouth at this rate.”
“Well, excuse me for not believing you considering that, oh, I don't know, I've been ignored by you for years? That-”
“‘Ignored’? I haven’t been ignoring you, no one has-”
“Really? Are you really trying to say that now-?”
“I understand that you're frustrated, okay? That you have all the reason to be mad- but no one has ignored you. I haven't ignored you-”
“BULLSHIT! That is bull-SHIT!” You scream before you even notice the words had left your mouth in the first place, “You would have said that before it that was the case! And even then- how the hell do you explain this entire shit show? How do you even dare to try and explain where the fuck ANY of you have been?! Because people can only be so ignorant and stupid until others begin to think it's intentional and you're doing it on god-damn purpose-!” Broken, harsh chuckles escape you - slipping in between your piercing words, ones so rough and dry that it scratches your throat just to let them out. The disbelief was heavy in each and every one of them, utterly devoid of any humor, and yet they were so unbelievably empty simultaneously.
You could feel your heart breaking even more, but you weren't the only one. Not that it mattered, as with each piece that was chipped off, you could only register the little sounds of you coming apart. Everything else was muffled, and almost completely blocked out. With your only focus being on him, on them.
“Just because something looks a certain way, doesn't mean that it's really like that. I told you, it isn't that easy. Like I said before- I haven't been avoiding you, let alone ignoring you! I wasn't trying to do anything like that-”
“It doesn't matter what you tried! What you're trying to do! Don't you see? What matters is what it felt like to me-”
“But you won’t let me change that! You won't let me try and change things- it’s like you want it to remain the same-!”
“YOU DON'T GET TO SAY WHAT I WANT! NOT AFTER THIS- NOT AFTER EVERYTHING! You don’t get to say shit like that- you don't know me! You don't know what I've been through-! So stop talking like you understand me!”
“But you won't let me in! You won't give me the chance to understand! How can I expect to know anything when you're giving me nothing to work with?!”
“How about you take a fucking hint, Grayson. Can't you read the room?! You're a cop for crying out loud! And was trained by the best detective the world has to offer- so it's not my fault you're acting like you're stupid!”
“You're not another case, Y/n! You're family, you’re my sibling! Not something that needs to be solved! Is it really so hard to just tell me anything and not push me away when I'm right here?!”
Your words catch in your throat momentarily, but you try to push past that and force something out, not caring if it was made of broken glass or venom. Yet, just as you go to speak, and the first letter escapes your lips – Dick finally breaks too.
“SHUT UP! Just Shut. Up. And ACTUALLY listen to me for one second! Please! For the love of-” Dick can't help but scoff, running a hand down his face, and covering his mouth with it.  Looking away as he does so, brows furrowing. 
He wants to say something, think of anything that he wants you to hear and understand clearly - but nothing comes to mind. Nothing you'd truly hear him out on, anyway. Nothing he's already mentioned to you. Nothing that would make this better. Even as he goes to try and say something, all that comes out is a mess of half finished words that he can't make comprehensible, especially not in a way that'll have you listen to him where you won't try to bite at him again.
So, he falls silent. You both do.
Your eyes widening at the sudden shout, before your gaze hardens and you glare at Dick through your tears and agony. His silence makes you angrier, but his loud response does shut you up momentarily.
“Well– fine, if you want me to be quiet so badly, then I'm leaving.” You manage to say after a moment, voice wavering and becoming weaker — now spent thanks to how you've been using it up until this point.
Still, your words immediately snap Dick out of whatever trance he was in, and cause his head to snap back in your direction, with his eyes locking onto you once again – though they widen a little before he tries to calm down, and take in one last breath. He scrambles to say anything, especially as he sees you turn to leave, and see your words through.
“W-wait, hold on, I-” he presses his lips into a thin line, thinking briefly before continuing, “Can I at least walk you home? It isn't safe-”
You pause in your movements, “No. Just-” you don't look back, you can't bring yourself to, but you do just barely glance over your shoulder – though not enough to actually see him again. Dick can't see your eyes anymore, but he can still see the tears streaming down your face. “Just leave me alone. All of you.”
Dick tries to reach out, to stop you one last time – but he hesitates, and just lets his hand fall back to his side. Instead, opting to watch you leave while he stands there, left hurt and alone. His eyes eventually find and land on the coffee you had left behind on the bench, and he finds himself staring at that once you're out of sight.
He has to hold back from running after you, and following - if only to just make sure that you'd reach your apartment in one piece - but he manages. It's the least he could do, after all, and besides, he doubts he'd be able to do that without making you hate him even more. He's gathered as much from all of this, and really - from the looks of things, he had a lot more to consider than he had originally thought. All of them did.
… It's only as you walk away and the distance between you and Dick grows bigger, with both of your words beginning to settle - that you both notice the clouds once light cries have turned into ugly sobs, with each tear being shed heavier than the last, thunder roaring and echoing in the distance, lightning striking the earth with a deafening clap. It was only then that both of you even noticed that the light drizzle from before had turned into pouring rain, and that there was more than just the two of you in the world. Something that felt heavier than it should’ve, but felt appropriate at the same time.
Regardless, you continue to walk away, and once again, never look back as you commit to your decision no matter what may happen afterwards, or the consequences that may follow. Just like that one day back in the manor, you move on and go on with your choice, just knowing what you want in that moment and seeing no reason to deny yourself — especially when you want the same thing you wanted that night, when you just want to get away. You don’t know what happened tonight, but all you knew is that you didn’t want to be a part of it anymore, so you just left, and maybe you would’ve felt a little grateful that Dick let you go if you had noticed to begin with – since your mind was more focused on just putting as much distance between you and him as possible.
Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and it’s only then that you remember that you still had it on you – not that you knew why you’d leave it anywhere or forget it, but it’s something you noticed nonetheless. You fish it out of your pocket as you walk, and wipe some of your tears away with the back of your hand, sniffling lightly as you check the notification. Jessica had left you a voicemail – several, actually. You couldn’t imagine why, but you didn’t try very hard to think of a reason, and instead just opened your phone to listen to it.
[“Hey, hun’, it’s been a while, you okay? If you don’t call in the next twelve hours or so then I’m calling the police- even if most of them are useless as hell, I know more of them will look, since they know who you are and all that. But I swear if that asshole did anything to you then he’s got another thing coming, and I know you don’t like to fight, but please, for the love of god, just sucker punch that creep in the face if you have to. He looks like he could use one, and an extra hard one at that.” She takes a moment to sigh, clearly frustrated - which her tone made very clear - but you could sense a little worry, “But, seriously. Just get back to me when you can, and you better be safe, alright? Listen to my other voice message if you haven’t already, talk to you soon, bye.”]
Just hearing Jessica’s voice made you feel a bit better, and some of what she said got a little laugh out of you. She always tried to look after you, and with what just happened – you couldn’t be more grateful for it.
So, you did as told, and listened to the other voice message she had left you, curious as to what she had wanted you to know about.
[“Hey, it’s Jess, darlin’. I hope you’re not still with that guy, but if you are then just remember what I told you, okay? Well, anyway, Cece came by, and is waiting for you in the diner, and barely awake at that. So just come by and pick them up, since- well, I’d send ‘em home on their own but honestly I doubt they’d be able to make it there themselves. I’m a little surprised they were even able to reach this place- but you get the jist. Come by, but if you’re still with that guy? I can wait, just hurry up because a girl’s gotta get her beauty sleep. See you, bye.”]
… Oh, well, guess you had to make a stop on your way home, then. You wanted nothing more than to curl up in your bed and just sleep, but it’s not like the walk to the diner was long anyway, and besides, it was on the way back to your apartment, so you couldn’t really complain.
With that, you made a turn and headed towards the diner. Still processing and taking in everything as you do so — but when you feel more tears begin to well up, you push it to the side, and tell yourself that you’ll handle it later. No matter how short or long that interaction was, it drained you, and you desperately needed rest. Maybe it wasn’t the most healthy decision to make, but you couldn’t handle doing anything else right now, so it’d have to wait. Besides, with how tonight went, you definitely didn’t want to think about Dick and the others at the moment – they didn’t deserve it, anyway.
Thankfully, you reached the diner in no time, and it’s only when Jessica stops you at the door do you even realize that your soaked… which makes sense but you feel a little embarrassed when she points it out nonetheless, and says how she loves you but doesn’t want to have to clean the floor again when her shift has been over for about a half hour. Cece was sitting at the counter, and perks up when you enter, giving a sleepy smile before standing up and making their way over to you. Both of you thank Jessica as you take your leave – but not before you wish her a good night and say your usual goodbyes, even if she does make a point about how you and her will talk later. Hell, she even sneaks in how you almost looked like her after her breakup with Michael which… ouch, you can only imagine how awful you really look if that was the case – but it also only fully confirmed that you were talking to her about what happened no matter what.
Still, you were grateful that she left it at that, and didn’t pry anymore as she finally let you and Cece go home. The walk to the apartment – or, rather, the short run there – since you and Cece ended up sharing their jacket as cover from the rain, and they had a funny idea as you both held it over your heads, and… well, one thing led to another – and it's safe to say it turned out to be rather eventful. Ending with you and Cece laughing in front of your apartment building once you reached it, huddled in front of the small entrance – Cece ending up being partially soaked despite their best efforts, and of course, you’re beyond drenched.
Once you reach your shared home, Cece, despite barely being awake, basically shoves you into the shower once you're both a little more settled, and you just do as told – more than a little tired yourself in numerous ways, and definitely not in the mood to argue. When you’re clean and in a new set of clothes, you and Cece talk a little. They try to ask why you had been out, but you just say you ran into someone – though it wasn’t anyone important, and that it wasn’t something to worry about — with them just accepting that answer, much to your relief.
The rest of the evening becomes a bit of a blur after that, with you and Cece just talking some more here and there, sharing a few laughs that really helped brighten your mood and made you forget all about what had happened. The pain becomes dull, and that bright fire in your chest finally dies out - leaving behind a warmth that wasn’t burning or suffocating, but instead comforting and painless. One you welcomed graciously and with open arms as you felt yourself relax more and more.
Eventually, Cece turned in for the night, and as they headed back into their room, you did one last check of the apartment — making sure all the windows were not only locked, but that the curtains were closed. Going as far as to check the front door a few times just to make sure that it was really locked. Even if none of what you did would really stop any of them from getting in - it put your mind at ease a little, and really, that’s all you could hope for.
With that, you finally settled into bed, and fell asleep faster than you had in years.
For once, you hoped you’d never wake up as your worries and fears felt so far away, and reality was out of reach – even if it laid just beyond your closed eyelids. As much as you hoped for a better morning, more than anything, you hoped that you’d just sleep the week away if you could help it. God knows you needed the rest, or at least it felt like you did.
—----------
Dick had no such luxury.
The night became a blur after you had left, and he barely remembers even meeting up with the rest of the family once everything was said and done. He couldn’t tell how long he had been standing in that park all by himself, thinking of everything you had told him and looking at the little pieces of your existence that still remained behind.
All he knows is one thing led to another, and now he’s here – sitting on top of a roof with everyone else both simultaneously chastising him and trying to discuss what they should do now. Though Dick couldn’t bring himself to pay attention, since the events that had unfolded moments prior replayed in his mind like a broken record, torturing him slowly as his brain reminded him of all of the mistakes he’s made tonight. He can’t understand why he said half of what he did, especially because he didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean to blow up like he did – especially in front of you, and when you were clearly hurting and frustrated on top of that. The only thing Dick wanted to do in that moment was stop both of you from arguing, and it seems that his mouth ran off to do just that before he could think of a better way to do it. Now leaving him like this, and things worse off than they were before.
Point is, Dick felt like shit, and he knew he deserved it. Though the rest of the family definitely weren’t helping him out in that regard.
“How the hell did you even fuck this up, Dick?” Jason asks, his tone so heated it sounds like it could’ve come from the depths of hell itself – and all just to burn his older brother.
“I knew I should’ve gone instead, this would’ve never happened-” Tim can’t help but mumble to himself, arms crossed as he sighs, frustrated – but not completely at Dick. If there was a moment for him to really believe he should’ve kept your address and apartment number to himself, it was definitely now.
“Wait- so… what do we do now?” Stephanie asks, concerned over what happened, and that Dick hasn’t really said anything about it to them – even if all of them can tell it went poorly.
Damian just sighs, his arms crossed as well as he looks at Dick before looking to the others, “Take matters into our own hands, obviously.”
“While I agree that something should be done, is it really a good idea to act now?” Barbara pitches in, not entirely sure of what Damian was talking about, but not liking the implications of it all the same. Something about it just didn’t feel right to her, nor did the look he gave her.
“Of course. Now that they’re presumably heading to their apartment, we can just-” before Damian can finish what he was going to say, Cassandra covers his mouth, cutting him off swiftly which annoys the little Robin enough to shove her hand away and give her a scrutinizing look, “what?”
Cassandra just shakes her head, and instead begins to sign something, basically saying how they don’t know if you're even at your apartment, and by the time they find out where you actually are, it’ll probably be morning. Even mentioning how since you know that they know where you live, you probably wouldn’t even be there anymore. Which just causes Damian to huff in response. She had a point, and he knew it, but he wasn’t going to admit it out loud.
Still, despite that Jason spoke up again, “Actually, I agree with the little twerp. Now’s a good a time as any to get them home.”
“... You can't be serious, right?” Barbara asks, now getting a little concerned over what Jason meant as well, and the half-shrug he gave did little to reassure her or calm her nerves that were slowly beginning to rise.
“Why not? They’re still out there doing god knows what- who knows where in the dead of night,” he points out, giving Barbara a little glance, “it anything, I just see more of a reason to get them before anything else happens.”
“Jason, do you even hear yourself right now.”
“What? Is it a crime to be worried for my god damn family now?”
“Jason.” Bruce’s voice pierces through the air, cutting through the tension before anyone else can speak up or give their two cents. Almost as if just his voice alone was enough of a barrier between those who wanted to get you home, those that didn’t, and the few who didn’t know where they stood at the moment. 
Regardless, it’s enough for Jason to stand down, if only temporarily as Bruce turns to Dick – who’s still out of it, and staring at the ground just before his feet.
“Dick,” Bruce calls out, which only gets him a subtle glance, with Dick not even bothering to pick up his head – or maybe he just couldn’t, no one could tell except for the one person among them who was much too fluent in body language. “What do you think?” He asks simply, narrowing his eyes a little when his eldest son grows quieter somehow.
Dick fidgets with the coffee cup in his hands, its warmth long gone, and yet he still runs a finger or two along the side as if it was still there. He doesn’t know why he grabbed it, but now he almost couldn’t find it in himself to let it go. It was yours, after all, if only for a brief moment – and even if all it did was serve as a reminder of his faults, it reminded him of you, and right now? That’s all he could ask for. Dick can’t explain it, but it’s like by holding the cup and having it with him, he had a small part of you with him. Since, sure, while you had left it during your… ‘dispute’ with him, it had come from a place you liked and he could only assume that it was just how you liked your coffee. It was silly, but holding it made him feel close to you, and that’s all he wanted at the moment. To be close.
… It takes him a beat or two before he responds, and even then he seems unsure of himself – but remembering what had transpired minutes ago is enough to set his mind straight.
“I think… we should give them some time, and… a bit of space too for a while.” Dick manages to say hesitantly, tapping the cup lightly as he still holds onto it.
That seemed to quiet everyone down for a moment, until Stephanie eventually asks the question on everyone’s mind.
“Just how badly did things go, Dick?”
He couldn’t answer that, he didn’t want to, so he remained silent. However, Cassandra could tell, and found herself just as divided as she felt the moment she first saw him. She didn’t know what she wanted to do more – throw Dick off the roof, or go looking for you herself. Maybe she’d try to do both if Bruce wasn’t right there. 
“So, what? Do they hate us now or something?” Jason says sarcastically, but with how Dick tenses a little his tone turns harsher, “... You can’t be serious.”
“Dick- please tell me you didn’t screw things up that badly. Please tell me that you didn’t make things worse!” Tim almost begs, desperate to be wrong and hoping that his eldest brother hadn’t made things worse – that there was still a small chance.
Sure, they didn’t expect things to go great, but none of them really believed that they would go so horribly!
“Look, just-” Dick takes a short breath, looking at the cup in his hands in quiet defeat before glancing away, “I think we should give them some time to themself is all.”
Jason can only scoff as he crosses his arms, “I knew I should’ve gone instead, they would’ve been home right now.”
“I believe me and father would’ve handled the situation much better,” Damian states, as if it would lead to the only positive outcome should he and Bruce had gone instead.
“I knew I should’ve kept my mouth shut and just gone over by myself- stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” Tim curses under his breath, looking away as he continues to mumble to himself – expression growing increasingly darker and the air around him shifting into… something indescribable.
Cassandra seemed just about ready to rip something apart, and Stephanie was getting nervous from how the others seemed to be reacting, only able to stutter out a small, “G- guys? Maybe we shouldn’t be talking about this right now-”
“I agree…” Barbara chips in, her own concerns only growing as she looks at the family, but tries to help Stephanie out nonetheless, “What’s done is done, and we should be trying to figure out what to do from here on out.”
Damian scoffs, “Right, like that will be easy with brother being silent about everything.” Dick could only look away in response, taking a small sip of the coffee in his hands, finding a little bit of comfort in its taste. It was cold, and wasn’t how he usually got his done – but it’s how you liked it, and that was enough from him to like it too.
A small argument seemed to spawn from that alone, with some now going back and forth yet again on what to do – Cassandra, Jason, and Damian pretty adamant about wanting to bring you home, with Barbara, Stephanie, and Dick more keen on waiting and giving you space — even if Dick was definitely more quiet about his stance, still thinking about… whatever was on his mind. Tim didn’t seem to engage much in the arguing either, and instead seemed to be dealing with his own thing as he kept mumbling to himself, leaving Bruce to be stuck listening to all of the nonsense until he finally got fed up with it.
“Quiet down, all of you.” He states firmly, voice cold and harsh as he shuts everyone up without even moving an inch. His eyes seemed to judge all of them as he looked at everything before sighing, and making the decision for everyone.
“We’ll give them time, and stand down for now.” He says, his tone alone indicating that there would be no arguing on this. What he said was final, and everyone would be smart to follow along with it, no matter where they stood. Still, he turned to look down at the city, and caught the faintest glimpse of your apartment building in the not-so-far distance. “but if anything happens, then we’ll act accordingly.”
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mysecretlittlelibrary · 9 months
Text
After The End
Pairing: Bucky x Reader/former Steve x Reader
Word Count: 3.2k
Warnings: idk... there's lots of arguing and resentment
Genre: mostly angst some fluff here and there
Summary: It took you ages to put yourself back together when Steve chose to stay in the 40s, what happens when he comes back two years after
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***
Life after Thanos was hard. Watching some of your closest friends disappear was not something you would ever be able to forget. Especially with those of you that were left scattered around trying to patch up what could be saved. Those five years were hard, but harder still was having almost everyone you loved return only to lose others. If you had known that beating Thanos would mean losing your boyfriend you might not have tried so hard. It's selfish to think that way, you know it is but you had a whole life planned with Steve, and being heroes you knew there was a chance you wouldn't get to see it through but losing him like this was- almost too much to bare. All he had to do was return the stupid stones to where you'd gotten them from to save the universe. It was supposed to be simple and there was something soul shattering about him choosing not to return to the team, to you. He took the stones back and then he stayed. Chose a life with Peggy that was never his rather than the life with you that he already had. It was agony, for months you were heartbroken. But you got through it. You mourned that life you envisioned, you mourned him, and while you'll probably always love him, you refused to let his choice destroy you. And you considered yourself lucky because Bucky was there for you through it all. On nights that were really bad, Bucky would stay with you even if you were up all night.
You aren't entirely sure when it happened, even now, looking back on it you can't pinpoint the moment late night conversations and afternoons completing chores became... more than that. You guess in spending so much time together you started to see Bucky in a different light. You'd always cared for him but what happened with Steve seems to have created a level of closeness you didn't expect. That first night that you kissed him was unexpected even to you. You'd been talking about nothing of consequence, he was lying on the floor of your room while you were in your bed, both of you staring at your ceiling for the most part. There was a lull in the conversation so you said the thing that had only clicked for you the week before at that point.
"I can't believe I let myself feel inadequate for so long." You sighed. You'd convinced yourself, for weeks, that Steve leaving was because you weren't enough, and only now were you coming to your senses about it.
"I'm sorry." Bucky had whispered it so quietly you almost thought he wasn't talking to you.
"You're sorry? For what? You didn't make him leave." You scoffed at him.
"For letting you feel less than perfect."
"Come on Buck, that's not on you." You'd rotated onto your stomach with a chuckle at his words. He'd cracked one eye open to look at you when he realized you were staring at him. Before you let yourself think about it too hard, you had leaned over the edge of your bed and kissed Bucky. It was quick and a bit awkward because of the angle but you made sure not to shy away from his surprised stare after.
"Did you just-" Bucky didn't even finish the question.
"Yeah. I guess I did." You'd smiled slowly watching a slight pink warm Bucky's cheeks.
You wish you could simply say 'and the rest is history' but that makes it seem like things were way easier than they were. It wasn't a smooth transition by any means. That night neither of you spoke for far too long, and when you could muster up something to say it wasn't to address the rapidly growing elephant in the room- it was to dispell the tension. You and Bucky spent two weeks dancing around the subject before he finally asked you if you were even ready for another relationship after Steve. That's when it clicked, why he'd been avoiding it in the first place, he was considering the possibility you were rebounding. Understandable concern but nope. It had been months, almost a year actually, since Steven had left. You knew you were in a place to begin again and you wanted to do it with Bucky.
Now the rest is history. You've been together ever since. About a year and a half at this point and you can't remember the last time you were this happy. The two of you meshed so well you can't believe there was a time you thought your future was with another man. You smile to yourself as you think about it while working on a painting. There's a knock at the front door that you almost don't hear.
"Y/n can you get the door? I'm in the bathroom!" Bucky shouts.
"Oh shit, of course!" You put down your brush and head to the door. You can't describe the shock that gripped you when you open the door.
"Steven." You blink at him.
"Hey. Nat- told me you'd moved. Luckily she uh, had your new address so-" He trails off with a shrug.
"Look not to- sound rude or anything, like I'm glad to see you, I think but, what are you doing here?" You ask.
"I thought- I thought I knew what I wanted but I got it wrong. I got it so wrong. My life- my happiness, it's here. With you." Steve steps towards you and you instinctively step back, placing a hand up gently to indicate your boundary.
"Hang on a second Steve. Just because your plan didn't work out doesn't mean you can just waltz back into my life like nothing's changed."
"Y/n! Who's at the door?" Bucky's voice calls from inside.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." You call back.
"I- didn't realize you'd have company." Steve mutters.
"Oh I don't. That's-" Before you can explain, Bucky's asking something, now walking over to join you at the front door.
"So who's this unbelievable surprise guest of-" Bucky's hands drop from where they were just about to settle on your waist when he finally glances out your door. "Steve." He says stepping back.
"Told you, you wouldn't believe me." You toss over your shoulder.
"Hey pal. Long time no see." Steve says. You can't tell if he's totally put it together yet but the strain in his voice tells you he at least knows something's changed between you and his best friend.
"I'll say. What happened to growing old with Carter?" Bucky asks, stepping around you to half hug Steve and offer a shoulder pat.
"I realized that- wasn't the life I wanted. I mean it was once upon a time but, not anymore. Things have changed." Steve shrugs.
"I see." Bucky nods.
"Well, Steve you're welcome to stay here with us while you- get back on your feet in the 21st century! Right Buck? Or I can send you over to Sam, he's back in Louisiana with family right now but I'm sure he'd love to see you too." You say.
"Oh, yeah, we can set him up in the extra room although- your art stuff is in there, did you want me to move it into my office or should I put it in your room?" Bucky hums.
"Do you have space in your office? Cuz I definitely can set it up in my room-"
"There's tons of space in my office." Bucky shrugs before you can finish. Steve clears his throat and you turn your attention back to him.
"Sorry to interrupt your- logistical discussion about all this, I j- I didn't realize you two were living together." Steve says.
"It's been two years. Like you said, things have changed." You say.
"You haven't told him?" Bucky looks at you.
"Well in my defense I was about to when you walked over here and the conversation kinda pivoted." You say.
"Okay well, do you want to do it or should I?" Bucky asks.
"I mean I don't want to but- it should be me, yeah." You mutter.
"Okay, can we stop doing this sidebar thing you guys are doing? Tell me- what exactly?" Steve asks. Bucky's hand settles comfortingly against your back, it's out of Steve's line of sight and you appreciate it greatly.
"Bucky- Bucky's my partner." You say.
"In the- you go on missions together sense or the 'my girlfriend is dating my best friend' sense?" Steve asks.
"It's been two years Steve-"
"So you replace me with my closest friend?"
"No. I moved on and yeah it was with Bucky but that was by chance it wasn't about you at all. Don't make it personal."
"You just happen to move on with my best bud? It feels pretty personal." He scoffs.
"Okay! Let's settle down. Steve, if you're gonna take our offer to stay I will show you to your room. Nat has some of your things at her place, the rest of it is in a storage unit. I'll take you down after." Bucky interrupts the would-be argument by changing the subject. You step out of the doorway to let Steve walk in as Bucky tugs him along.
"Why are my things at Nat's?" Steve asks.
"Well some of the more valuable things y/n held onto for a while but when she didn't want to keep them around here anymore we gave them to Nat to look after until we came up with a better plan since we didn't wanna leave them in a storage unit we'd barely go to." Bucky explains as the pair walk further into the house. You can't hear Steve's reply as you walk into the kitchen to regroup. Letting him stay here is going to make shit so weird. You sigh to yourself, with any luck he'll get on his feet pretty quickly and this will only last a couple of months. You can do a couple of months.
The first few weeks are, tense. You're not sure if Bucky is as aware of it as you are but your house is awkward and quiet most hours since Steve showed up. It's like most of your routines have been disrupted and you're not sure which ones are best left for after he's gone. Right now you're on your balcony with a cup of tea. When you glance over the ledge, you see Steve trudging into view. You watch curiously to figure out what he's doing, not even realizing Bucky's snuck up behind you until his arms settle around your waist.
"Penny for your thoughts my darling?" Bucky asks.
"Things are weird. Maybe I shouldn't have offered to let him stay here." You frown.
"Don't be silly. You wouldn't be you if you hadn't offered." Bucky chuckles.
"Sure but- now I'm worried I've put us- put you in an uncomfortable situation." Bucky spins you around to face him. His hand comes up to the side of your face, fingers grazing your cheek softly.
"I'm fine. Are you uncomfortable with him being here? Because I can suggest he spend some time checking in with the others if you'd-"
"No, I don't want to kick him out. I just- I don't want you to lose him because of me." You say taking his hand in yours kiss his knuckles.
"If 70 years and Russian brainwashing couldn't destroy our friendship I think we can make it past this." Bucky winks at you. You glance over the balcony again in time to see Steve toss some wood at a growing pile.
"What is he doing? Why is he piling wood?" Your eyebrows scrunch up.
"You can just ask him you know." Bucky muses.
"It's not harming anyone. I don't need to know." You shake your head.
"You wanna ask don't you?"
"It's just strange." You say fighting a smile.
"Just ask." Bucky laughs leaving you to your tea on the balcony. A moment later you let your curiosity get the better of you and lean against the metal railing of the balcony.
"Steve hon, what on earth are you doing?" You ask him.
"A tree fell, so- I'm breaking it down into firewood."
"Stevie it's August, we're not using the fireplace." You shake your head with a laugh.
"Better safe than sorry." He shrugs.
"You must be incredibly bored." You muse.
"No, I just like to be prepared." He says. "Alright, I'm a little bored." He adds with a sigh after a moment.
"Well if you need something to do- I was catching up with Nat the other day, she said a couple of the tenants in her building moved out for whatever reason, you should talk to her about applying." You tell him.
"I'll give her a call." He squints up at you.
"Good." You nod heading back into the apartment. That's honestly the longest conversation you've had since the day he moved in. Usually, you spend all day avoiding him- or he spends all day avoiding you- you're not sure but you don't speak really, except you make a point to ask him about dinner, if he has plans, or if he'd like to join you and Bucky. You're a good host, but you don't talk to each other much. Not that you expect any different, you were together for six years and he up and left but he's back now- and things are not what he thought they'd be. What else could be said honestly?
You actually don't mind the silence between you two, because the day Steve decides to break that pattern brings forth the worst conversation. The type you've been dreading since the moment he appeared at your door. You're cleaning around the apartment and Steve offered to help, first you worked in silence, just the music from your speaker filling the air until a particular song came on. One you played for Steve once that he immediately fell in love with. It became your song. You only recently stopped associating the song with him but you forgot it was in this playlist otherwise you would've picked another one.
"You still listen to this song?" Steve asks. You keep your back turned to him as you wipe down the coffee table.
"Of course I do. I knew the song before- it was, ours." You say.
"This is the first time I've heard it in a while." He muses.
"Duh the song didn't exist until the 2010s." You scoff.
"Yeah I guess that's- that's true. It's strange though, that awareness of what's to come."
"Yeah that's why most of sci fi warns you not to go time jumping."
"You clean with different products now." Steve points out. You're not sure what he's trying to do here but you are in no mood to dance around awkwardness with him.
"Scented products are easier for Bucky. He says plain bleach  smells too sterile." You mutter. It's Bucky that buys most of the cleaning products anyway, but he always buys citrus stuff.
"It's not easy, you know, seeing my best friend with the love of my life every day." Steve says after a stretch of silence. At this, you turn to face him, trying to stifle that frustration bubbling inside you.
"You left me. Left us. Not the other way around Steve. You don't get to complain about us having picked up the pieces." You tell him.
"I still love you, that's not something I can just pretend isn't there." He says.
"And I love Bucky." You shrug.
"Not me?"
"It doesn't matter." You shake your head.
"It does."
"If it mattered to you at all you would've never left." You grit out.
"So say it." He says quietly.
"What?"
"Tell me you don't love me."
"Steve-"
"Say it. If what we had is truly all in the past for you tell me you don't love me. That there's no place in your heart for me and- I'll move on."
"This isn't fair." You shake your head.
"No?"
"No! You got the life with Peggy that you thought you wanted. You abandoned me. Now you're asking me to choose you when you didn't choose me. How can you expect me to do that?"
"I'm choosing you now!"
"And I've chosen Bucky. I wanted the world with you. All you had to do was come back to me. And you didn't. It's too late now Steve. You needed to choose me two years ago."
"You still haven't said-"
"I don't love you. That's what you want to hear? You lost me the day you chose not to come back. I shouldn't have to spell it out for you. I chose Bucky, yes. But you-" Deep breath. "If you can't handle me and Bucky together in our home then- maybe you should go stay with Sam or Natasha." You say. You're not going to argue with him.
"Are you kicking me out?"
"I'm offering you an alternative- because, I will not be choosing you. Not now, not ever again, you had your chance and if you can't come to terms with that, if it's too difficult to be around reminders that you fucked up and I kept living life without you then by all means don't destroy your mental health staying here. You have other friends."
"How can you expect me to just- pretend what we had means nothing? How can you pretend it means nothing?"
"I'm not asking you to pretend shit. I also am not pretending it means nothing I'm just aware of the reality that it's over and that's something you need to come to terms with because you left and Bucky made me feel alive again when your leaving nearly killed me. It's been two years, did you think I would simply be waiting indefinitely for you to decide I was worth something to you again?"
"Wait a second you have always been worth something to me. You've always been worth everything." Steve frowns.
"You don't get to say that! You don't abandon people that are 'worth everything' to you. You chose someone else and that's a choice you have to live with." You say, your finger practically in his face. The sound of the apartment door opening disrupts your anger enough that you step back.
"Hey guys- did I miss something?" Bucky frowns looking between you two even though you've already stopped back over to the coffee table. Bucky's quick to come to your side, scanning your face for any clues as to what's going on, although he heard the last bit of what you said as he was coming down the hall. "Baby?" He coaxes gently, his fingers stroking against your side.
"I'm gonna go to Sam's for a little while." Steve grits out.
"Feel free to stay there." You clip before you can stop yourself. Steve's footfalls pause for a moment at your words but he doesn't respond before eventually he trudges out the front door.
"Feel free to stay there?! What... happened while I was out?" Bucky asks with a disbelieving chuckle.
"He has... a lot of nerve." You force out through clenched teeth.
"You're gonna have to give me more details than that so I can understand what's wrong doll."
"He just told me how hard it is to watch his best friend with the 'love of his life' every day. The love of his life that he left to be with a woman that lived and died without him. He asked me to choose him. Because after two years I'm supposed to still love the man that left me. Because it's not enough that he almost destroyed me the last time. Because for some reason he thinks I'd rather be picked two years too late."
"He's hurting."
"Yeah well, so was I. Two years ago. He'll live. I did." You shrug. Bucky pulls you into a hug, kissing the top of your head as he gently sways you both back and forth. You lived through hell that day you realized Steve chose a life with Peggy. You'd be damned if you ever let that happen again.
***
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audisive · 26 days
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♪ MILLION DOLLAR MAN. (💌)
౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader
synopsis: you need a bodyguard, and simon's the only one you can trust. for now.
tags: fluff, angst (ish), hurt/comfort, romance, soft!simon, bodyguard!ghost, model!reader, trust issues, hints to a panic attack, you have a bad dad (and family)
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        There's an ugly yellow folder on your vanity, sticking out like a sore thumb.
That's the first thing you see.
There's a hitch in your breath before you speak. "Vel," you walk over to your desk and call out to the lovely girl with your coat over her arm, your favorite maid. "What's this?" With manicured nails, you pick up the folder cautiously with the feeling of familiarity and déjà vu.
Veliana tilts her head to the side, the clueless little bird she is. "A folder, miss." You huff a smile out at her simple response, the pretty little thing never knowing better. "Please give Noah a call." You tell her and she nods her head automatically, still smiling at you.
When she carefully places your coat on the rack, she scurries off to who knows where. You're left in the comforts of your too-large room, a delicate piece of work that you'd paid thousands of dollars for after your face had snatched the interests of magazines, reporters, and such. You find that there are even uglier men inside when you open the flimsy thing in your hand.
Veliana is breathless when she comes back to you like the obedient girl she is, handing over the phone with your manager's name on it.
"What's wrong, darling girl?" Noah asks, annoyance seeping into his tone despite the usual pet name. "What's with the profiles?" you question right back, flipping through the folders, carefully scanning each gruesome man with horrifying detail. You already know the answer, but you dread it.
"About time you actually considered my suggestion," he voices out. "You need a new bodyguard."
  You find that your new bodyguard is just as noticeable as the folder you threw away without much thought. There's people staring at him when they would be gawking at you. 
Simon Riley is a trusted man; at least that's what you try to tell your manager. A remarkable 6'4 military man who should be off in a bar with beer – he drinks whiskey, imbecile – or resting in a broke-down apartment, not babysitting his model of a friend. Honestly, you wouldn't have minded it if he acted just a little annoyed at you, but he doesn't even spare you so much as a glare. You're not sure if you should be glad or not.
You have to admit that you do feel a little smug when your manager avoids yelling at you with Simon glaring daggers at him. Then again, there's this anxious feeling pooling at your stomach when he gets a little too close. He's certainly scarier than the last one.
His large hand calms you down when it lands on your lower back and sneaks his warmth through your thin clothing. You let out a breath, as if he'd just commanded you to do so without a word.
  Simon should be in his awfully empty apartment, sleeping the day off or making a small trip to the groceries for necessities fresh out of deployment. But when he opened the door to you, who's clearly so troubled and almost begging to help you out with.. whatever it was you asked, how could he say no? 
"It's just temporary, I swear. I just need some time to do a proper background check on the other bodyguards."
Given that your shitty father's in jail with unfinished as well as illegal business, it wouldn't be proper of him to let a civilian walk around with danger right at her back. That's what he says to himself, anyway.
He's just not so sure he signed up for the right job as a bodyguard. Truth be told, he would've preferred to be your boyfriend.. but as long as he has rights to protect you, then he won't complain.
He's well aware of the men coming for your neck for a variety of reasons. Some out of jealousy – Simon thinks that the fashion industry might as well be a warzone. Maybe that's why he accepted this in the first place – and some because of your problematic family.
He's also heard about your past cowardly bodyguards, if you can even call them that after they'd left you in the face of death. It's a wonder how you're still alive, but he wouldn't dare question it.
It doesn't help, not really, when there's an ear-deafeaning explosion and a panicked angel in his arms, clutching onto him for dear life. "Simon," you all but whimper, labored breaths and uncontrollable tears slipping out of you.
He hushes you, coos at you as sweet as he possibly can. He soothes you and cradles you against his chest as he shoots back at death and carries you to safety when the storm of chaos calms. And he never leaves. Not once.
Not even when you're well and sitting on the cold bed of an even colder hospital room. You'd begged him to stay and lay with you, and when he does, you insist that you owe him your life, and he tells you he's just doing his job.
Still, you can't help that you push yourself closer to him. "Thank you," you whisper, "for staying."
"'M yours to keep." Simon gruffs out, "my loyalty and life belongs to you. All of it." And so does his heart.
(bodyguard!ghost is just modern knight!ghost to me :3c)
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        divider by @cafekitsune !
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apocalypseornaw · 2 months
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Us Again
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Sam Winchester x Reader
Needing help on a case you're forced to call in the Winchesters. You never thought it'd end with you and Sam finding your way back together.
It's like 90% smut
The solid wall connecting with your back knocked every ounce of breath from your lungs. You groaned and rolled onto your hands and knees, struggling to get air. You heard Sam and Dean both shout your name and saw the creature moving towards you. You grabbed your discarded machete and pushed yourself to your feet, eyes on the monster you yelled “GET THE KIDS. I GOT THIS”
This thing was something new, none of you had run across it which was why you'd called the Winchesters in to begin with. It was taking kids, feeding off their youth. You were hoping decapitation would do the trick. You flipped the long blade in your hand and waved a hand at it “C'mon then ugly. I don't got all night”
 
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You winced a bit as you followed Dean into the door of their hotel room. Yours was adjoining and you'd left the door unlocked between your rooms. Dean eyed you as he dug a first aid kit out considering he'd gotten a slice across the arm and Sam had gotten caught across his left shoulder.
“How ya feeling?” He asked and you nodded “Right as rain Winchester. Now sit down and let me see about that arm” you glanced back at Sam “and I need to check your shoulder too” Sam gave a sharp nod, lowering himself into a chair at the table opposite Dean. 
—-----------------
You hadn't wanted to call them in, years had passed since you hunted with them. The last time had been about a year after you and Sam broke up. You could feel his gaze on your back as you began cleaning the wound on Dean's arm. It wasn't too awfully deep but it might do for a stitch or two just to make sure it stayed closed. 
You busied yourself with the task at hand in an attempt to ignore the memories flashing through your mind. You still loved Sam just as much as the day you'd left but you couldn't tell him that. Too much time and too much pain had passed. The two of you had only recently gotten back to the point of talking as friends. You couldn't risk losing him again or Dean for that matter because regardless of how close you were with the eldest Winchester he'd choose his brother every time.
You finished Dean's stitches and taped over it so he could shower then stepped back from him “All done” he nodded, his eyes flickering between you and Sam. The question was clear in his eyes so you gave him a small nod before turning to face Sam “Ok, um you're gonna have to take your shirt off for me to check that shoulder” 
He met your eyes for a second then cleared his throat and looked away before standing to take off his flannel then slipped his shirt over his head. It had been a while since you saw Sam shirtless and christ he'd put on more muscle than before not that he was lacking then. You had to mentally kick yourself to not stare at his chest. 
He sat back down, turning the chair so you could get to his shoulder. You cut your eyes at Dean and he was watching the two of you with something near amusement written across his face. Damn him shouldn't he be playing the protective brother at least? You and Sam had broken each other's hearts at one time. 
—---------
You gingerly touched the area of Sam's shoulder that was sliced. It was deeper than Dean's but should only take a couple stitches. “Just sit still, I need to clean it” you nearly whispered before grabbing the wound cleaner. 
Sam sat silently as you cleaned his cut. The feeling of your hands on his skin was nearly overwhelming. He was glad Dean had stayed in the room because this entire hunt had been hell on his psyche, from the moment you called for help he knew it would be. The kids you all hadn't been able to save, the new creature that needed to be added to the lore, the way he felt seeing you get tossed to how he now felt with you bandaging him up like old times except now you wouldn't kiss the area after bandaging it.
“You ok?” You asked once you started stitching him. He nodded “Yeah, I'm good” he felt when you snipped off the thread and taped over it like you had Dean's. The fingers of your right hand lightly teased through the hair at the nape of his neck and he sucked in a harsh breath at the familiarity that wracked through him. Fuck he missed you.
—----------
You weren't sure what had driven you to run your fingers through Sam's hair but it was almost as if your body had run on muscle memory alone. You'd heard the way his breath caught and your knees had weakened. You needed to get a shower and go to bed so you could hit the road bright and early.
“You can um put your shirt back on if you want” you spoke then began packing up the first aid kit. Before you could finish Dean's hands covered yours “Uh uh sweetheart. You took a hard hit one of us needs to check you over” you met his eyes and saw the unspoken challenge there. 
Either you put you and Dean both in an awkward position by having to take your shirt off in front of him or you ask Sam to check you. “I'm fine Dean” he raised an eyebrow then leaned up to speak around you “Sammy why don't you go in her room with her and check her back out. If something seems broke holler for me but I think it's better you do it since you have seen her naked after all” 
“You're as subtle as a heart attack” you mumbled then looked back at Sam who seemed determined to look anywhere but at you “I'm fine Sam really” he finally raised his eyes to you “Are you afraid your boyfriend may find out?” 
You felt your face warm at his words. You and Marcel had broken up nearly a year ago. You hadn't loved him, hell you hadn't loved anyone since Sam. Marcel and you were still friends even if when the two of you broke up his reasoning had been “Baby you never got your heart back from Sam. I can't compete”
“I haven't had a boyfriend in a very long time, Sam. You want to check me out and confirm what I already know, come on then” you grabbed the first aid kit and turned on your heel. Before you made it into your room Sam was catching the door.
—---------
“Go!” Dean urged Sam, who nearly jumped out of the chair, to follow you. You were single? Why had you broken up with Marcel? You'd seemed happy with him.
He followed you into your room and watched you slam the first aid kit down on the table then start to strip your jacket off. He shut the door behind himself then was acutely aware of your actions when you slipped your shirt over your head and stood facing him clothed in just your jeans and a dark green sports bra. It took everything he had to not let his eyes graze over your body. 
“Sam? Are you gonna touch me or stare?” You asked after a moment and he knew he had blushed lightly. He hadn't touched your skin in a very very long time and wanted nothing more than to but the thought of touching you only to see if you were hurt then the two of you going separate ways come morning hurt. 
“Yeah, sorry” he said and you turned with your back to him, moving your hair out the way. Purple bruises had formed across your back already so he started at the nape of your neck with intentions to work down, checking everything.
—-----------------
Sam's rough fingertips started at the nape of your neck. His thumbs worked the base of your neck, feeling for any cracks and effectively massaging the sore muscles there. Your eyes fluttered shut and you bit down on the inside of your cheek to not moan.
Damn him he knew your body so well even after this long. He worked down further, kneading the flesh and checking across your ribs and spine to ensure nothing was broken, asking every now and then if anything hurt.
When he reached the top of your jeans he tapped your hip “Everything looks good” you swallowed hard twice before turning to face him “Told ya” 
His eyes went from your face down to your chest and the realization you were still in just your bra hit you “Guess on that note I'm gonna shower” he nodded “Ok” neither of you moved, frozen to the spot.
—----------------
“Sam” you spoke his name in nearly a whisper and the next moment your lips were crashing against his. You were sure who initiated it but his hands went to your hips pulling you flush against him as your hands slipped around his neck pulling him down closer to you. 
When you broke away to catch your breath the two of you stared at each other, chests heaving “Tell me you don't want this. Tell me to walk away” his voice was deep with lust and made your stomach do a flip “No” you replied pulling him back to you.
He groaned into the kiss before picking you up in one fluid motion. His hands hooked under your thighs so you wrapped your legs around his waist grinding down against him. He carried you over to the bed and laid you down gently before slipping his shirt back over his head and tossing it.
You worked to kick your boots off as he did the same. Once you were both down to jeans he climbed onto the bed hovering over you as he claimed your lips in a bruising kiss. You barely remembered his injured shoulder as you clung to him, wanting him as close as possible.  You loved this man with everything you had, you'd left because he couldn't say he loved you and it hurt too much but being away from him for so long had hurt too so you decided to give yourself this.
He moved from your lips, kissing down your jaw then to your neck when he sucked on your pulse point hard enough to mark you your back arched off the bed pressing your breasts into his toned chest. His hand touched your bra and he glanced up at you for permission. You smiled and pulled it up and over your head, baring your chest to him. 
He lowered his mouth to your left breast, rolling the nipple between his teeth and you moaned loudly. His right hand came up to knead the other breast, the action pulling another moan from you.  He knew you too well. His mouth, the size of his hands, the tickle of his hair against your skin. Everything had your nerves in overdrive. 
He released your breast then kissed down your stomach, stopping at the top of your jeans. “Tell me you want me” He spoke against your skin, eyes holding yours. “I want you” you whispered and his eyes shut for a moment and you saw him swallow hard before he nodded to himself. When his eyes opened there was that same hunger there but mixed with a need you felt in your soul. 
He made quick work of your jeans and panties before continuing his path. When his tongue barely grazed your clit your fingers flew to his hair tangling themselves in it. 
—---------------
Sam wasn't sure what was sweeter, your taste or the sounds falling from your lips. He knew what it took to push you over that edge and enjoyed feeling your body shake and you came on his tongue. He worked you through it until you pushed his head away. He leaned back from you, slipping a finger into you to replace his tongue. You clenched hard around his fingers, cursing lightly when he added a second and curled them up to hit that spot inside of you that he knew would have you seeing stars.
Your hands gripped the sheets tightly, the sound of his name being moaned from you was everything. He could feel when you were close right before you came, soaking his fingers and the bed under you. When he pulled his fingers out he held your gaze and he slipped them into his mouth, licking them clean.
“Sam, take your fucking jeans off please” you begged and he could feel his cock twitch at your words. He stood up and slipped his jeans and boxers off. Your eyes trailed down his body and he saw you lick your lips “I want to return the favor but fuck I need you inside me”
—---------- 
He groaned at your words “I need to be inside you” he replied climbing back up your body. When he reached your lips you pulled him into a kiss, rolling your tongue against his, tasting yourself on him. When you felt the head of his cock teasing at your entrance you clenched. He eased into you, both of you moaning at the sensation “Fuck you're so damn big Sam”
He buried his face in the bend of your neck, laughing lightly against your skin “I'd say sorry but I'm not” after a moment the pain of the stretch gave way to pleasure. You rolled your hips up to meet his and he groaned “Fuck baby” you smiled when he looked up at your face “I've missed hearing you call me that” he grinned before leaving a rough kiss on your lips “Hold onto me baby. I want to feel that pretty little pussy come around me” 
—-------------
The only sounds in the room were skin meeting skin and both of your needy moans. Your nails dug into his forearms as he drove into you from behind. You were on your stomach, pillows under your hips to give him just the right angle as he drove into you. He'd already made you come too many times to count. You were breathless and could feel your body shaking but you were taking everything he had to give. 
His thrusts were starting to falter and you knew he was close. Sam had always had a remarkable stamina and the ability to hold his own release in favor of pleasuring his partner but you needed to feel him come, to have him fill you completely. “fuck Sam. Please tell me you're close” you sounded wrecked, completely fucked out. 
He moved the hair from your neck, kissing your pulse point “getting tired baby?” You nodded “I need to feel you please” he groaned at your words his thrusts getting harder and harder “Fuck I've missed you…I love you baby fuck I love you”
Before you had time to realize what he said he buried himself deep inside of you, coating your walls as he came. The feeling pushed you over that edge one last time. You knew every muscle in your lower body would be jello. When he pulled out you gasped from the sudden feeling of emptiness. 
He kissed your shoulder “Gonna clean you up” you felt the bed dip as he stood up. A moment later he was back and you felt a warm washcloth between your legs. Once he was sure you were cleaned he discarded the rag and helped you turn onto your side. 
He laid down next to you, pulling you over on his chest “Need anything?” He asked and you shook your head sleepily. “Just sleep” he chuckled and kissed your forehead “Get some sleep darling. I'm right here” 
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The first thing you felt when you woke was the delicious soreness throughout your body. Christ, you'd forgotten Sam's stamina. You moved around but felt a strong arm tighten around you. Memories of the previous night flooded your mind. Had Sam meant it when he told you he loved you? 
As if your thoughts got too loud he stirred behind you so you turned in his arms to face him. The uncertainty on his face seemed out of place after how he'd fucked you the night before “Why'd you leave me?” He asked and you sighed “I thought you didn't love me. You would never tell me you did and after a while that wears on you”
He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them the sadness hurt your heart “I've always loved you just after Jess I was just so afraid to lose someone again” “I never wanted to force you into anything” he nodded then smiled “I meant it last night. I love you, I've always loved you and always will. If you give this a second chance I promise you'll never doubt my feelings again. You're it for me. My heart is solely yours” 
You were silent for a moment then smiled “on one condition” he nodded “anything” “You always talk to me about what's going on in your head, you trust that I can take care of myself and if I get hurt you try not to blame yourself”  “Deal” you nodded “In that case kiss me” “Yes ma'am” he laughed before pulling you into a kiss.
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anantaru · 7 months
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DAY 25 — ORGASM DENIAL
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kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3
𖧡 — including — diluc, lyney, albedo, thoma
𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, orgasm denial, a little bratty reader, oral (fem! receiving), nipple play, meanies!!
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𖧡 — DILUC
like an armored plate secured around your thudding chest, diluc's complete body pressed against your own was like pins and needles stinging your skin, from the emitting warmth on your frame when he was so protective of you— even in your most vulnerable and raw moments, diluc cannot not look out for your comfort, because when he kisses you, decides to press his lips against your soft ones, the heaven sighs out loud and circuits a comforting breeze over your bodies, holding you close when he calls you his sweet darling or his angel girl.
up to now, at least, because tell me, what were to happen if you, all at once, decided to act out of place a little and unintentionally place him into a quite disgruntled premonition— so that you're at present, tightly strapped down against the large bed, a piece of his trace wearing down another orgasm for too long, before urging the shaped knot in your stomach to dissolve entirely— which felt like every nerve in your body was snapping into pieces due to both utter frustration and helplessness.
"you just never know when to stop, do you?" diluc mutters out lowly and fuck, voice was sounded so desperate it made you clench down around nothing but air.
remember, diluc ragnvindr wasn't one to play with, not even you could get away with it— beyond everything, it was plainly impossible to play with fire and not burn yourself, especially when the fire in question, wasn't just a small light, but the hand manifesting it in the first place. it's subdued, at first, when diluc gently presses his lips on top of your searing folds that were yearning for his intoxicating touch, your body thoroughly fatigued, the loss of two whole orgasms he ripped off you were showing across your your whole body as your hands clench in the sheets.
all things considering, it's a bit hot if you were being honest, especially how riled up diluc seemed to have gotten from nothing more than your pretty pussy plastered all over his darling face, eagerly dragging his tongue over the hypersensitive rawness of your skin as you're arching into the touch with ease, as if trying to force diluc to go further with you and please please make you cum while he's at it— instead, you're being met with his lips abruptly leaving your hot sex again, your hips stilling immediately and shuddering before he grinds one thumb into your inflamed cunt, and this time you thought you we're on the brink of passing out, it's too much and your noises were trailing off into another heavy sob as he just repeats himself, over and over again.
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𖧡 — LYNEY
"ah, ah, ah," your bare and exposed body shudders at the piercing sensation of teeth and tongue lapping across your erected nipples as lyney buries himself in between the precious mounds— and you're fighting to adjust to the rapidness of his traces, noticing how your chest was beginning to grow numb and it just wouldn't get better, only turn worse if your boyfriend wouldn't just stop his devil like performance on you.
lyney continues to work his tongue on you, the tip of it, just the tip, and remember that the only attention you were getting tonight, was on your breasts— he wouldn't touch you otherwise and if the reason was due to your past wrong doings or snarky remarks from earlier, or perhaps due to the fact that lyney had a secret liking towards turning you into a breathless mess, all things considered it might be a mixture of the two of them.
"right there.." he muses, sucking at the nipple before holding his breath in and hollowing his cheeks, fervid, wet sucks and his canines imprisoning your simmering nipple in a tight, ardent circle pushed deep in between his smooth lips. you're catching your breath at this, and the mild pain was stretching through the soreness on your chest before moving down to your wet core.
your tear soaked eyes hinder your ability to keep a normal field of vision as you bury your hands against lyney's soft hair, "please please please, fuck me," you beg, cry and toss your head back before jolting your hips up into his painfully hard erection, your knees spread as wide as you could possibly get them, craving some attention as well.
without this actually happening for a while, you were aware that lyney had just started performing, playing out his masqueraded show, and naturally— he wouldn't want to cut the fun too short for you, you do understand that your climax will only taste better that way, don't you?
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𖧡 — ALBEDO
"not yet," the warm breath expelled by albedo brushes over your flustered cheeks before he continues his sentence to you— although with his voice an octave darker, the lingering shadow above his eyes even more difficult to discern, "i told you, not yet."
your boyfriend's body never felt warm like you did, or how a human did in general, and although his skin was gentle and soft, the trace of him was freezing instead, a perfect contrast to you and ultimately serving in a way to conquer the ever growing hotness covering the curves and slopes of your beautiful body.
his cock just hit something inside you just right, and that, along with the words, his slight possessiveness and the power albedo held over your body only fueled your excitement to this, adding to the thrill of being split open and played with— of course, your body was only able to hold onto as much as it could, and after another orgasm ripped away from your strong hold, you writhe and shake from hypersensitivity before goosebumps arose all over your juddering skin.
but you were his, his tomorrow, his tonight— his, his, his, his darling love, forever yet even someone as patient as albedo was, needed to show you how it really was sometimes, it being obedience and the obvious chain reactions that would occur after you would dare to tease him, day and night, before leaving him painfully throbbing right after.
he slumps into you, dropping both of your bodies against the mattress as he snaps his hips forward, your cunt by now slicked up with arousal that had long since dried up around the insides of your thighs and your puffy folds— and it's truly filthy, that's what it was, but what's even worse was the fact that the growing pain and ache in your cunt wouldn't even dissolve just a little bit, your legs squeezing his moving sides as if trying to pull albedo deeper into your warm, yearning pussy, to somewhat change his mind. 
you cry out, toss your head back and scream when he rolls his erection into you expertly, your skin itching and your cunt throbbing with the need to cum as you're unable to move from underneath him, the sinful mix of pleasure and pain pulling your nerves taut and fatigued.
but albedo will not stop himself, never, only pressing his fingertips into your hips deeper before drawing himself off your cunt entirely, his tip leaking of clear pre and leaving you empty behind, more so frustrated although ready to go for yet another round.
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𖧡 — THOMA
you're being pushed against the bed before falling onto your elbows— and naturally thoma was quick to follow, immediately hauled up over you with one arm holding his stability, "look at me."  he says, voice low and holding the pressuring breeze inside the room in a tight grasp before he lets his hands roam freely over your body.
and before you know it, you feel the thickness swell inside of your walls gushing over his girth, then perceive a bristling spasm when thoma cocks a brow at you— believing he found the dizzy splotches on your walls, becoming faster, needier, hitting that special spot that shot a torrent of fire over the swathe of your spine.
but something was different tonight because whenever the man noticed how your noises were picking up, becoming faster, needier and breathless— thoma abruptly changes up his sinful pace, pushing himself off you while leaving the tip in, then thrust again, slow and steady, all the way inside.
you pant, sob and whine whilst feeling trapped, and before your body was even half way through adjusting to the newfound speed of his hips guiding his cock over your hot walls, you're being accompanied by another, much more torturous velocity from him.
 "if you weren't so mean at times, i'd be a whole lot nicer tonight," he groans out, and it's safe to say that something was desperately pissing him off— yet instead of voicing it out loud, the heat and tension of the moment took over him as he slants himself over your body before snapping his hips forward, your tits bouncing due to the force of his shoves jutting into you.
and you moan out desperately, scratching over the flexed muscles of his biceps to brace yourself, uncaring of the sound and winces you made, especially careless over the people who might pick up on the noisy commotion coming from inside.
thoroughly fucked out, you look straight up the ceiling whilst being pounded into literal oblivion, his cock hard and heavy inside your walls as you pityfully whine at thoma, gasping out loud with your arms clawing at every new thrust reaching your exposed sweet spots— helplessly trembling and unable to suffocate the ache on the burning inside your thighs, the constant teasing breaking yourself from the very within.
but regardless, receiving his blows with relief and hoping that thoma would make you cum at least for once tonight.
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©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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ooffmlsorry · 6 months
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One Piece Men Dealing with a Dangerously Reckless S/O
context: by dangerously reckless I mean someone who never has a second thought about throwing themselves in harms way and doesn't care what it does to them
t/w: passive suicidality, self harm? (better safe than sorry) angst. Mentions of blood, injury, and death
LAW
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It'd probably lead to a big argument where he threatens to kick you off his crew because losing you would legitimately be the death of him. He can't lose anymore people he loves to violence. When Bepo tells Law you didn't even hesitate to plunge into a thicket of razor wire to help your crew mates escape, it doesn't read as admirable to him. It reminds him too much of himself on Spider Miles. After he gets your side of the story, which pretty much confirms it, he doesn't talk to you at all while he cleans the mud and blood from your skin and stitches the slashes that cover you from head to toe. Normally, even if you've fallen asleep, he talks you through your treatment, but not after your stunts. He's that...scared? Angry? Distraught might be the right word. Every time you do something like this, he's speechless because his thoughts are racing with the reality of losing you. He feels sick to his stomach. On nights like these, he doesn't know whether to sleep far away from you or hold you so close to him you can't breathe.
LUFFY
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At first, Luffy doesn't care. He has the utmost faith in his crew, and they put themselves in harms way all the time! Getting injured is just being a pirate sometimes! That's pre-timeskip. Post-timeskip Luffy still has a lot of faith in his crew and a lot of faith in his ability to protect his crew, but he's...different. He believes things are always going to work out no matter what and if they don't he'll make them, but sometimes he wakes up in the middle of night and stares at you, tracing all the scars you've gotten from one fight or another. And then the what-ifs begin to creep in and the nightmares start. After literally diving into a sea king to retrieve Nami's log pose and Chopper has patched you up yet again, you wake up to Luffy calling out for you in his sleep, sweat dampening his hair and his face twisted in fear. You soothe and shush him until his breathing evens out, but he holds you tighter still. It's not in his nature to "bench you" or doubt your strength just because he's in love with you. That would be controlling and doubting you, and he would never do that. But that doesn't mean Zoro and Sanji don't take notice, even if Luffy won't say anything they make it extremely hard for you to pull off any careless "heroics."
ZORO
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Much like Luffy, Zoro doesn't think much of it for a while for the same reason. This is the guy that was completely ready to cut his own legs off, after all. But that doesn't mean it doesn't concern him, especially because you don't seem to have a rhyme or reason for all the shit you pull. And he would say something to you about it. Maybe not directly after you jumped straight into Marine gunfire to cover a little girl, he just wants you to be alive at that point. But after days of taking care of you as your wounds slowly heal, after he's certain you're not going anywhere this time, he'd make sure the two of you are somewhere alone and quiet to talk. As far as Zoro's concerned not going down without a fight is completely fine, dying for your dream isn't considered giving it up, but acting like it isn't a possibility is stupid. And he'd tell you as much. For most of this he wouldn't be able to look at you, just because if he does fear is going to take hold of him, but for that last bit he would. Zoro would search your eyes hoping you understand what he's saying. He'll tie you to the ship if he has to, he'd do anything if it saves you from being so stupid as to forfeit your dreams.
SABO
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Dying for the cause is par for the course. It's a grim reality that Sabo begrudgingly accepts, although he does have a bit of youthful naivety that it won't ever happen to anyone. He won't ever believe the revolution isn't worth it, but you do make him question it for the first time. He loves you so much he has to compare you to the whole world for a moment, and that's one of the worst thoughts he's ever had. Because the whole world still wins. The guilt would eat him alive until he blows up (somewhat literally) at you for drinking the last of a rare poison to keep it out of the enemy's hands. Angry tears roll down Sabo's cheeks. When he yells at you, he's shaking with anger and fear. It's not up to him, but he doesn't object when you're completely benched while you recover and for a little longer after that. It takes a while for him to no longer angry and scared out of his mind, but once he is he's back to himself. If can visit you every day he will. He has hope for the world's future, and hope for yours too. He's not leaving either behind.
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