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#saying they should go back to that guy who's apparently his dad
flamingpudding · 9 months
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He's my clockwork appointed babysitter, not dad.
They failed, even they managed to beat all the cultist in time. The ritual was still completed. The leader was laughing like a maniac until Hood hit him hard with the butt of his gun, knocking the guy out cold finally. With held breaths, they watched how smoke rose from the ritual circle higher and higher until it started to form a black shadow with stars as eyes and too many teeth and limps. Batman was on his way with Constantine. Maybe they could at least contain whatever that was until they arrived.
"Who in the name of all good and holy dared to summon me?!" A static scratchy voice echoed in their ears.
No one dared to answer at first but of course Red I-fear-nothing Hood had to open his mouth earning him death glares from his siblings. "Aren't you like a demon? Why would you mention anything good and holy?"
That think was blinking at them and Tim did a double take when that think moved its many limps like it was rubbing the back of its neck.
"In the name of all bad and cursed then?" It sounded unsure still a booming echo like voice but unsure. They shared a look. Dick opened his mouth, ready to say something when suddenly a familiar voice shouted from behind them.
"Cut the crap kid! They are the Batsie and his birds belong to the good!"
They turned to see Constantine marching in with Batman right behind him. The man was throwing the but of his cigarette way as he went right up to that demon. Which apparently was not one because right as the Brite was up to it a puff of greenish some blocked their view for a moment before a white haired child stood where the demon had been seconds ago.
"The hell you doing out here kid. I told you to stay at home."
"You try resisting a summon when your all new to the fact that you can get summoned!"
"Your going to make my hair gray faster, you little chaos gremlin."
"Aw love you too!"
"Uh Constantine?" They had question of of them was that Constantine was apparently familiar with that child, demon, whatever.
"Right." The man lit another cigarette but before he could even take one drag of it he side eyed the child staring up at him before he flicked it to the side. "Bats my demon son, Danny the Bats."
"Demon son?"
"Actually I am-" They watched how Constantine covered the child's, Danny's, mouth with his hand shushing the boy.
"What did I tell you about interdimensional secrets? That's right, do not talk about them to just anyone. We are not repeating the Green Lantern incident."
Should they feel offended? It felt like they should. They weren't just anyone.
"Constantine." Batman gruffly warned, but the man held up one hand towards them. Batman was definitely offended that Green Lantern got to learn something he wasn't getting to know on Constantine's watch.
"One moment Batsie. I need to- did you gremlin just lick my hand?!"
The moment Constantine removed his hand the child stuck his tongue out at the JL Dark member and made a break for it to hide behind Batman.
"Get back here you little..."
"No! I am always stuck at home, and you promised me I would get to see the watchtower at last month!"
Batman blocked Constantine from getting to who was apparently the man's demon son. Staring at the man as the boy grinned in triumph.
"Mate get out of the way, this kid needs to get grounded again."
"For what?"
"Being a chaos gremlin that won't listen."
The rest of the batfam had only one burning question on their mind. "Which demon was willing enough to have a child with Constantine?"
Well, except for Tim who had caught the little tidbit of interdimensional secret and was wondering who Danny really was.
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mariastorm · 1 year
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Danny became the head assistant to one Timothy Drake-Wayne after nearly 20 years of being retired from the hero gig. In Danny's opinion,no 16 year old should be managing a multi - million dollar company as a pass time instead the fricking grown adult who owned said company... *cough,cough .....Bruce Wayne.
But then again,what did he know, alot.....he knew alot about Tim and his family of furries...the undead souls of Gotham tended to tell you things if you gave them the chance, he was just some guy in his thirties who had just moved to Gotham just a year ago. He couldn't just walk up to them and offer a free therapy session with his sister to fix the general mess that was the Wayne family unless he wanted the 'batclan' to start paying attention to him and later creeping him out with their stalking. So he chose a more subtle approach ; slowly integrate into their lives and fix their disaster of a family one appointment at a time.
He started off great. Tim began to open up to him in the office as the days went by. They talked in-between work schedules and meetings. He learnt about Tim's likes and dreams,lent an ear when he needed to vent about stuff involving home or school. In a way , Danny had realised somewhere in between that he was slowly mentally adopting Tim as his kid . He ended doing the same thing with the other Wayne children when he met them. Apparently,Tim spoke about him to the others when he was home and they had all gotten curious. Heck he had even met Alfred and they got on like a house on fire . Now he sometimes joins the old man to shop for groceries every other weekend. He had met Bruce as well and let's just say their first meeting involved Danny scolding the hell out of the man for allowing a literal child to manage his company when said child should have been doing child things as well as all the other things and the others had told him Bruce had done. Alfred had patted him on the back after he had finished his speech while the kids had been laughing at their father's expense.
Bruce had surprisingly taken it like a man considering the fact that he was being told off on how to 'parent' by a twink who was his son's assistant and therefore his employee. Danny had expected to be jobless after that fiasco but instead he was invited to dinner that very same week by Bruce himself. Albeit Bruce refused to make eye contact and seemed to have been having a fever as his face and ears were bright red but Danny didn't mind,free food was free food.... Even if he still wonderd why he had spotted Dick and Stephanie spying on them from the hallway with knowing looks on their faces......
Danny didn't even know how but suddenly he was fully involved in their lives; night time hobbies included after they dramatically told him to which Danny had simply responded with an "ya don't say?"and proceeded to go back to drinking his tea with Alfred . Things in the bat-brood were healing nicely;they were talking, bonding and generally starting to look like a true family. A true family with Danny in it. And Danny himself didn't realize this until one fluke .....no.... Two flukes occurred on the night of the biggest gala Danny had ever attended in his halfa life {galas he attended at Sam's mansion included} .
The first fluke ,he had been both happy and embarrassed about.....
Not one or two or three BUT four of the Wayne children had addressed him as 'Dad' . That too in front of a large group of guests and reporters with cameras and recorders . Damien had gone as far as to specify that ,yes they were referring to him and not Bruce..
And the second fluke....
Well, Danny wasn't sure how to feel about that one............
... Bruce Wayne,the bachelor billionaire,the man Danny had come to have a huge slight man crush on,...........
.
.
.
Kissed Danny. Right on the lips. On the balcony.
And Danny being a complete idiot had hiccuped then used his invisibility to hide and later run all while forgetting one tiny thing..
He hadn't told the batclan about his secret yet..and honestly??
Danny blames Clockwork.
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rainbow-nerdss · 15 days
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AITA for accidentally traumatising a 13 year old kid by pretending to be his dead mom?
So basically a couple of weeks back i (33F) was at work and I noticed this guy (30sM) staring at me. Now, this isn’t totally unheard of, I'm kind of used to it because I've done some acting in the past and sometimes people sort of stare while they try to figure out where they know me from. Usually I ignore it, but this guy was like crazy hot so I figured, fuck it, I’ll go talk to him, maybe make a sale out of it. We sort of talked a bit while I served him, and found out he’s a single dad. He had sort of sad vibes and I was kind of into it so when he asked me out I said sure, why not and we agreed to go for dinner.
So everything was going well for a while, we went on a few dates but mostly we facetimed bc he works 24 hour long shifts and scheduling dates around that and a kid is tough, which i totally understood and I was happy to be patient with him.  I should also say we still haven’t kissed at this point, even when he took me out on a boat on a lake, which was probably in my top 5 dates of all time? Anyway, I got the vibe he was holding back a bit but I figured I could wait bc he seemed like he was working through some stuff and dating in LA is fucking hard. 
What happened next was where the real shit started to hit the fan, though.
Basically, I decided to bring him some brownies at work, but I mistimed it and he’d already gone home so I gave them to his coworker who looked at me like I was a ghost or something. I should have recognised something was off then but I brush it off and the next day I get a call from the guy, and he asks me to come over to his place which hasn’t happened before. I figure this is a good sign, that maybe he’s ready to start moving things forward, but when I get to the house, there’s all these pictures on the coffee table and they all look EXACTLY like me. My first thought was: holy shit, this guy’s a stalker. Great. Then I looked closer, though, and the pictures weren’t even of me. Turns out, I look exactly like this guy’s dead wife???
Anyway, that was wild and obviously I left after hearing him out a little bc I just needed to wrap my head around it.
Now this next bit might be where i’m the AH, bc i haven’t had a chance to do any acting in a while and I genuinely felt bad for the guy, he just wanted a chance at closure with his wife and I couldn’t really fault him for that. 
So long story short, I cut my bangs (they looked cute in the pictures of his wife so I figured they’d work on me) and I went to his house in character as his wife and encouraged him to say what he needed to say to her. Things got pretty heated and he shared some really intimate thoughts and feelings so I was getting into it, you know? We embraced and I was feeling pretty good about the whole thing. I thought it really helped him until the door opened and in walks his kid with a woman who is apparently his girlfriend? So i guess the single part of “single dad” wasn’t totally accurate either.
Also, the kid called me mom, which kind of broke my heart, and I feel like maybe I might have fucked up somewhere here.
So reddit, I have to ask AITA for pretending to be a dead woman and accidentally being the other woman while simultaneously traumatising a thirteen year old kid?
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neteyamsilly · 1 year
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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 1
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summary ;; As Jake Sully's oldest daughter, you never see eye to eye with him, always challenging him and pushing his buttons to the limit. What happens when things go too far one day? [PART 2] pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; welcome to the labor of my daddy issues and my very own therapy. this fic is inspired by this one by @layonatanvi and I only wanted to borrow the running away from home to get an ikran idea/prompt! Please excuse my mistakes if you see any.
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There’s a widespread belief among sky people that every first-born daughter is a direct copy of her father. 
You listened in on your own father complaining to your mother about this privately one time; according to him, this was why you guys kept banging hammerheads like 'angtsìks. 
Lo’ak was his troublemaker, yes, but you were the rebel pain in his ass, wouldn’t stop questioning one tiny simple step he made, never took anything seriously when he needed you to be on top of things hundred percent of the time... Even your younger brother knew boundaries after he was given the stink eye, but you hadn’t stopped testing him every single goddamn day after the sky people had come back. 
His youngest son and oldest daughter were nearly identical in the speed they got him seeing red, but the similarities ended there. Lo’ak would go behind him to cause trouble, and you would do it right to his face, that fearlessness and defiance made you more dangerous than your brother in your father’s opinion.  
His blood pressure skyrocketing was reserved for Lo’ak and the shenanigans he knew right away the boy was getting into, and you got his explosive anger the moment you would open your mouth to defy him — he couldn’t talk to you, a normal conversation even about your mother’s cooking wasn’t possible without you being passive-aggressive and things snowballing from there. 
(“This is delicious Neytiri, thank you for the food. Sturmbeest?”
“Sturmbeest meat ran out like two weeks ago, father. You ask this everyday and mom answers the same everyday.”
Cue him reprimanding you for talking to him like that, you saying maybe he should greenlight a hunt soon to calm his nerves and promptly being sent to your room. It was Neteyam who’d saved some food for you that night.)
If only you would stop talking back to him and listen for once, he’d said, pacing in the tent with hands on hips like an agitated viperwolf as mother watched on, most likely tired from going through this loop for yet another day. You are the older sister to Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk, why can’t you be a role model for them like Neteyam is? 
(Mom had given him the flattest, “She is at the age for such behavior, Ma’Jake, we’ve talked about this. Let her be.”)
In your defense, he didn’t make sense sometimes, what harm was there in wanting him to explain the thought process behind his decisions?
Apparently you simply were prohibited from doing that to the Olo’eyktan. 
But he was father, he was your family. Why did that have to be disrespect? 
He wasn’t like this before.
A small part of you was aware this was you lashing out because you missed your father — the lighthearted rock in your life, the big shadow protecting you from the heat of the world, who knew how to smile and show his love before all of this. Now he was just the leader of the clan, the weight of the revered Toruk Makto on his shoulders made him a total stranger you didn’t recognize. 
He barely ever called you sweetheart anymore, punishing you for being a brat, most likely. You tried to act like it didn’t hurt. 
But it did. You missed him dearly when he was right in front of you. The rest of the family did, too, they just didn’t say it out loud the way you expressed through what you called standing up to him — in reality, it was a statement about the man he had become, father couldn’t read between the lines to understand.
Mom did. 
She would always explain he did it out of love and worry, and his every move had a reason behind it after the scoldings ended. It was as if she saw right through the prickly exterior of her eldest daughter.
Her love wasn’t held back like his was, not shared like military MREs at decided moments in a day in between attacks, raids, meetings and duties. Hers were long touches, hugs, kisses on your temple, shared time and hunts together, her letting you ride on her ikran with her, the warmth of a meal and soft smiles; whilst his was randomly asking how you were after training and where you’ve been if he caught onto your absence sometimes. He didn’t have time for you or your siblings except for Tuktuk these days. That’s why you were now a mama’s girl.
Sooner or later, the breaking point was finally bound to arrive. 
Yours did after a particularly heated-up fight about your rite of passage. You had had enough of father postponing it when Lo’ak, younger than you, had already gained his own ikran and gone through uniltaron. He was present in the tent while you were fussing and debating with your immovable mountain of a father only answering with single syllable responses, and his light snickers made you all the more aggressive. He got a strong jab from Kiri after a loud snort.  
Kiri, you could get. She was built different from the start — got her mount earlier than anybody else, just walked up to it and asked. Besides, the girl wasn’t a dick about it like Lo’ak was. 
“You aren’t ready yet,” father answered the more you asked him. You thought he'd say a different thing the hundredth time, but he didn't. “Your brother was.”
Lo’ak puffed his chest at that, desperate for a drop of recognition as always, and you could only roll your eyes. “So you think I’m weak? I’m not strong enough?”
Father sighed at the provocation. “That’s not what I’m saying. This and being ready are two different things.”
“How are they different? If I’m on top of my training, that means I’m ready.”
“Physically ready, and mentally ready are not the same.”
“How can I not be mentally ready, I’ve already seen what happens—”
“Enough!” He stood up, towering above you and leaning in slightly. Your younger brother had stopped smiling so quickly you almost let a laugh escape you, and father got agitated when he saw that, thinking you were making fun of him. “Some don’t return from the dream hunt. Do you understand? The strongest sometimes don’t return from that. Your mind needs to be strong.”
“And mine isn’t?”
He gave a slow exhale through his nose, not actually wanting to say it for some reason. “No it isn’t.”
“Why?”
There it is. Your signature phrase. ‘Why?’
And it made your father look above, asking silently for patience from Eywa as it always did. 
“Ma’ite, why don’t we take a break, hm? Come walk with me,” your mom interrupted, taking your hand and standing next to you, your four fingers got enveloped in her larger, warmer grip, strong and insistent. 
“No, I wanna hear it. What do you think makes me not ready?”
You insinuating that your father was entirely going off his own wrong opinion and not knowing any better set him off. You saw the change from ticked off to borderline on edge, but instead of giving into it, he turned his back on you and went back to cleaning his gun, movements choppy and harsh. “That immaturity for a start.”
And you hissed at him—actually hissed at him when none of your siblings would ever dare to talk back to him during a lecture. 
The audible gasps, the holding of breaths, and the slow turn of your father’s head looking like he was going through confusion of reality upon being hit on the head had followed. His eyes narrowed and the lines of his eyebrows got gradually lower on his face, his form seemingly expanding in mass from building anger, spine slowly straightening after fully comprehending what you just did.
“I’m way past you giving me attitude missy,” his baritone and low voice was so steady that you’d rather him yell at you like usual, but he was scarily calm, pushing you to raise your chin righteously at him to show you weren’t bothered by him none, but your ears betrayed you by cowering flat and taut against your skull. “But you’re hissing at your father now? Hm? You think this right here is gonna get you the respect you think you deserve?”
“You don’t listen,” you said, ignoring your heart trashing away from how coldly father was to you.  “Disrespect,” your fingers quoting in the air resulted only in making him angrier. Neteyam to his right, silent and observant the whole argument, was furiously shaking his head that the beads in his braids were clicking loudly. “is the only way you ever pay attention to anything anymore. See? Look how sharp you are right now. Mission accomplished, I guess.” 
“Bro…” Lo’ak, frightened by the wide eyed glare father was giving you, weakly protested, but you knew he would never be able to interfere in the verbal struggle between you and father the way you did to his. 
“You will go to your room,” father said between his teeth, “Do not let me see your face. I swear to Eywa—Neytiri, get her outta here.“
“Do you ever want to see our faces anymore, father?” 
A beat. 
Mom gasped your name in shock, grabbing your arm this time as if she wanted to drag you away. 
All his fury froze away immediately. “What did you just say?” 
You just stared at him. 
“That’s enough,” your mother snapped at you, but you didn’t hold it against her, she was more worried about what would follow if this went on. “Come on, we’re leaving.”
“Okay.” Father slowly shook his head, the storm brewing right under his skin got you preparing for the impact, and all the kids flinched when he threw the unloaded gun back in the crate. “You know so much, don’t you? You’re smart, wise. Know better than Tsahik herself. Fine, you get your way. Go.”
You froze. “What?”
“Yeah, go. Get yourself an ikran.”
“Father—”
“Don’t father me. Go on. I’m not stopping you. Since you’re so ready and you’ll say just about anything to get what you want, who am I to get in your way, huh?” 
But you didn’t want it to be like this. Iknimaya was supposed to be something exciting, prideful — a ceremony. He was saying it like you were being thrown out. Who was going to paint your face? Be proud of you? 
“Why are you just standing there?” He poked your crushed ego further, confident in the fact that you wouldn't set one foot outside of the cave systems at this hour of the day. “Didn’t you want this?”
You didn’t want this. 
“Dad, it’s the middle of the night,” Kiri said, appalled, not quite believing her ears. 
“What does it matter?” He showed you in mock pride, up and down that you couldn’t stop the tears from stinging the corners of your eyes. “Mighty hunter here is ready.”
“Jake,” your mother warned in such a threatening tone that he stopped and shifted on his feet, almost uneasy. 
“What? If she doesn’t want a father’s concern I’m not giving it to her.”
Like you weren’t standing right in front of him at all. 
“Jake!”
That was the final straw. You wrenched your arm free from mom’s iron grip and screamed, “I hate you!” at the top of your lungs at him before storming off the tent.
His ears flattening was the last thing you paid attention to as everything became a blur because of tears swelling. Yeah, right. You wished you could hurt him, unfortunately he was too much of a wall for that. You bet he was scoffing at your declaration right now.
Your body thought faster than your brain did even when the emotions had you drowning under the current, deciding you were going to sneak off to the ikran rookery tonight. You knew he would send Neteyam after you — him barking, “Follow your sister,” at the boy right after you hid yourself between the rocks surrounding the tent was the confirmation of the hypothesis. He was to make sure you didn’t leave High Camp. 
Everyone in your family knew your favorite hiding spot to cool off, Neteyam of course was heading there automatically, and it was the headstart you needed to get a move on. 
Fine. You would complete your iknimaya yourself without anybody’s support, as if these things had any value anymore with how military he’d conditioned the clan to be. You were going to make him eat his words for humiliating you.
The muffled of father drifting off flared up your determination as you soundlessly sneaked off. "Jesus, I've spoiled her too much..."
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spacedace · 3 months
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“Hey, I need to get married for bullshit Infinite Realms reasons, you two in?”
“Tt, of course.”
“Sure thing! Do we need to get going for that like, right now? Or later?”
“Eh, like in a couple of hours? The Observants are demanding some Royal Ball or something and they pulled out some stupid old laws out of their collective asses that if I’m not married by the time it starts they can assign me spouses of their choosing, can you fucking believe that shit?”
“Woah, what the hell? Can they even do that?”
“I was under the impression they were only permitted to observe.”
“Right? It’s total crap, but apparently there’s like this super old law on the books and they didn’t bring it up until now when there’s like no time left to try and force me to marry someone they pick.”
“They are training to gain influence over you?”
“Eh, more like they’re trying to get control of my Dad by way of me. But still fucked as hell.”
“So why do you need to marry both of us? Or do you just need to marry one of us and we should play rock paper scissor for it?”
“Technically I only need to marry one of you, but I don’t want them pulling out any loopholes or something. So, it’d be great if one of you could be my consort for my role as Queen of Mirrors, and one could be my consort for my role as Crown Princess. You two can figure who’s who on that all that, I’m good with whatever.”
“Oooh, can I be consort for the Mirror Court? I can annoy Kon more that way.”
“I am amenable to that. Grandfather will have a fit when he learns that I can cut his access to the Pits off at my discretion and there’s nothing he can do about it.”
“Awesome, okay are you two good for meeting up at like, three? We can pop over to my Lair and get everything sorted out there.”
“Works for me, my only class til this afternoon is at one and the professor already said we’re cutting out early because she has to go out of town this weekend.”
“Four would be more agreeable if possible, I have to take Titus to the vet for his checkup.”
“Okay let’s aim for four then. It’s just signing some paperwork, making some quick blood-slash-ectoplasm pacts and swearing a couple binding oaths… Should only take like five or ten minutes?”
“They’re not gonna make you have a huge royal wedding or anything?”
“Nah. Dad keeps things pretty chill so as long as the paperwork is all in order we’ll be good. Though once Auntie Dorathea finds out she’s absolutely gonna make us have one. She loves planning weddings. Swear its what she makes her hoard out of somehow.”
“So long as we have a say in some of the proceedings I have no issue with that eventuality.”
“Same, it sounds like it’d be a fun way to annoy the Observants even more.”
“Don’t for get all the weirdos trying to be my suitors and all that bullshit.”
“We have an accord then. We can reconvene at the usual place.”
“Awesome, you two are the best! I gotta jet and let everyone know and get the ball rolling on the paperwork stuff. See you guys at four!”
With that, Nomad - Stella Phantom, Crown Princess of the Infinite Realms, Queen of Mirrors, Core of the Speedforce and ghostly hero of the Titans and the Justice League - tore a rip in the fabric of space and time and darted out of the room the same way she came. Through the mind-bending tear in reality the eerie, eye-searing green of the Infinite Realms glowed in all its unsettling glory, Phantom Keep a glittering expanse of night sky made solid in the distance.
Jon waved at her cheerfully as Damian gave a nod of farewell before both silently turned their attention back to their respective tablets as the portal closed behind their friend and teammate and the glimpse of the Ghost Zone disappeared again. Completely unbothered by the conversation just held or the life changing implications that came with them.
Jon was humming as he tapped away at something on the screen before him, Damian propping his head up on his fist in vague boredom as he frowned down at the information he was reading.
The rest of the room Nomad had left behind was caught in a frozen, stunned silence in the wake of the baffling conversation they’d all just been witness to. All eyes in the room darted between Flamebird and Pheonix seated calmly at the end of the table, then to the space where Nomad had disappeared to, back to the young men, and then towards the head of the table where Superman and Batman sat looking bewildered and a bit on the verge of heart attacks.
The short status update meeting was about to become much, much longer it seemed.
Though a lot more entertaining.
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lazycats-stuff · 4 months
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Hello, hope you're having a good day/night
I was wondering if I could request Bruce x Bat Dad (and some bat fam)
What if reader knew about the darker things in the world like demons and horrors unimaginable from the time he was small and that's why he doesn't talk about things like growing up or his family.
What if reader gets captured by a cult that torture him in order to force reader to translate strange eldritch books and artifacts.
You can choose how long it takes for Bruce to find reader
(What if Bruce and the batfam find out that reader has been hunting and investigating the supernatural like a small base of operations that looks more like a library with hidden weapons)
Hi, I hope you have a good day or night too. Of course you can request. Hehe. Lets go. Also, I'm sorry for taking so long... I hope you like it! And yes, the ending may be rushed, but it's not that bad.
Summary: (Y/N) gets taken for his knowledge.
Warnings: cult, fight, implications of torture... Nothing is really direct per say.
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(Y/N) sighed as he closed his old leather book. He wished he didn't have this knowledge, this... (Y/N) swallowed as he put his book back and left the room, closing the fake bookcase. He rubbed his face as he was tired from this life. He wished he didn't have this knowledge. He knows the things that would turn the world upside down.
He met with hell's worst demons and he saw some of the other unspeakable horrors. (Y/N) never had a good life. He grew up in a satanic cult, the one who was genuinely believing that Satan is coming and that they are going to be his loyal servants.
He was apparently marked by Satan when he was born, but then again, when you are in a cult, you believe what they tell you. (Y/N) escaped when he was 16 years old, running like the devil himself was chasing him. (Y/N) came to Gotham with only clothes on his back.
Soon he met a nice guy who helped him. (Y/N) is smart and intelligent and he managed to start high school. He graduated after 3 years and went on to study history and religion at college. He was always interested in those things and soon enough, he found himself working in a museum.
It was a nice change of pace for once. Learning about old things and older religions and he liked it when he could teach someone something new. Of course, he was vigilant of new people and people in general. He was careful when meeting someone new, hoping that the cult didn't go after him. He could only hope so.
Dating after being in a cult it's difficult. Always suspicious of any one coming into his life romantically. Men or women, being suspicious from the get go was a certified way to see if someone was from the cult. It was also one of the fastest ways to get your relationship destroyed.
Then Bruce Wayne came into his life.
It was a coincidence. Bruce saw an interesting exhibition and decided to treat Damian to a little treat. (Y/N) was making his way through the museum, just enjoying his day and making sure every visitor was taken care of. He saw Bruce and Damian, looking in confusion.
(Y/N) walked over and asked if everything was okay and the rest was history. He lead the two through the museum, enjoying the fact that Damian knew a lot about history and it was actually fun to debate a child who knew something over a fact.
Bruce was quiet, enjoying the tour and well... Love at first sight for Bruce. He was chatting with (Y/N) and saw how guarded he was. Sure, everyone is guarded around strangers, but this is a whole another level of being guarded.
Bruce was rather intrigued, but he didn't want to push any boundaries. So he left (Y/N) his number, saying no pressure to say yes, but do call.
To say (Y/N) was a nervous wreck is an understatement. What the hell was Bruce Wayne doing with him? Was he just looking for a one night stand? Or was just flirting to keep with the playboy persona? He came home and stared at the card for 10 minutes, thinking about it.
Should he?
Should he not?
You know what? He's not made from glass. He will go for it and whatever happens, happens. He texted Bruce, he wasn't really brave enough to call. He really wasn't.
He jumped when he saw that Bruce responded.
To cut a very long story short, Bruce and (Y/N) are together to this day. The date went very well and (Y/N) was happy for the first time. He has never been happier. Together with a man who loves him and the kids who love him.
(Y/N) may love the kids more than Bruce, but Bruce won't complain. Anyone who accepted his kids, he was more than happy and if that person loved the kids more than Bruce...
Of course, in platonic way.
But there was something that bothered the family, well, not bothered, but it was interesting to them. It was (Y/N)'s past. It was something he hid and refused to talk about. He would get closed off and cold and soon enough they learnt to not ask about it.
Of course, in a family full of detectives, they wanted to investigate, but they knew that they shouldn't have because it was an invasion of privacy. So, they have decided to leave (Y/N)'s past alone.
Also, one thing that they loved about (Y/N) was the fact that he was teaching them history, something they all loved. Jason was a fan of Egypt and Sumerians. Dick loved European history, more so medieval times. Tim loved the Enigma and the making of a first computer?
And Damian? World War Two and Arabic history.
Alfred loved (Y/N) too and he would love nothing more for Bruce to marry that man. God knows that this household needs another emotionally stable person. Somewhat...
Alfred was not the one to complain.
He saw how (Y/N) and Bruce complimented one another and Bruce gave (Y/N) a push to write his book about history of religion. (Y/N) has always wanted to write that and Bruce gave him a push he needed. But not financially.
(Y/N) said he would do it all on his own. Bruce had no problem with that statement. He agreed to not pull connections with anyone or any publishing house. But he wasn't against getting (Y/N) his materials. He had no problem delivering the materials right to his door or at his work.
(Y/N) knew that Bruce was Batman so he knew that Bruce was in front of his apartment or in his office. (Y/N) enjoyed and was happy to see them.
(Y/N) entered his apartment and went to the kitchen. He was completely oblivious to the fact that there was a dark figure in his living room. (Y/N) took a sip of the water before he heard a creak on the floor board. He acted like it was nothing before throwing the glass in the direction on the sound. He hit the figure and (Y/N) grabbed a knife.
(Y/N) watched as the figure doubled down in pain, before recovering. The figure has stepped into the light and (Y/N) recognized the face.
" You motherfucker... " (Y/N) said as he gripped the handle of the knife tighter.
" That's no way to talk to your leader. " The deep male voice said and (Y/N) sized him up.
Maybe he can make it out. But the leader is strong and full of muscles. He has to evade him. Somehow.
That plan went down to shit when he saw two more figures. Sure, the leader needs to have protection. (Y/N) glanced between the trio. Someone is going to attack first.
Which one is the question.
(Y/N) ducked a punch and tried to stab the incoming one, but he was hurled over the couch, taking it with him. (Y/N) grunted as he hit the floor and he stood up after a few moments. He didn't have his knife with him.
Shit.
He nearly died when there was a fourth figure picking him up, before throwing him into his glass coffee table. (Y/N) grunted as he hit his head. He hissed as he tried to get up, but a kick to his face sent him flying back and he was dazed.
" I'm not coming with you. " (Y/N) said as he wiped the blood from his face.
" Oh you are. We know you can translate the demon transcriptions. And we need those translations. " The leader said and (Y/N) glared at them.
He won't go out without a fight.
" You are outnumbered. There is no way out. " The leader said and (Y/N) glanced at the other two. They were blocking the exit. They only way is to fight out or at least try.
But there was no weapon in sight. So he was screwed. Kicking and punching his way out can only take him so far.
But he had to try.
So he did just that. He tried to fight, but he was punched in the jaw quickly that he was nearly knocked. He fell down, hitting his head hard once more.
His vision was swimming and he couldn't see who was where anymore. His only hope now was Bruce. He knew Bruce would drop by later in the night and that he would find him. Bruce would never stop looking for him.
The kiddos too...
His jaw got punched once more and he blacked out. Now the cult had him where they wanted him. They could do what they pleased.
And if that meant torture... Well, then so be it.
Two fucking months. Bruce was losing his mind as he was looking for his boyfriend. He was horrified when he learnt of (Y/N)'s past, who wouldn't be terrified? Learning and growing up in a cult?
Bruce remembers the first time he entered the apartment and he will always wonder about a lot of things. More so that (Y/N) is somewhat normal.
Bruce was shocked that (Y/N) turned out normal. The trauma he must have went through... He was even more shocked when they found out the secret library in his apartment... Bruce had to call John Constantine to see what the hell was happening here.
John knew exactly what this was. (Y/N) was a hunter who hunted demons and banished them back to hell. Bruce was officially in the dark now. His beloved, his significant other was a hunter? Who went after demons?
Bruce didn't know how the hell he was going to explain this to his kids. How can you explain something like this? Bruce analyzed every part of the apartment, trying to figure out what happened.
He saw that (Y/N) had a knife, but was threw around the room. Then he was put through his glass coffee table. Bruce sighed quietly as John looked through the books.
" This is an amazing collection. " John commented as he looked through the books and the weapons.
" Is that really important right now? " Bruce snapped at the man and John just shrugged his shoulders.
" I guess not, but I know people who would kill for this collection. Bruce, he has knowledge of the single handedly one of the most ancient languages in the world. I can only count people on one hand that know this language. " John explained.
Bruce sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
" I think I know why they kidnapped your partner. " John said as he picked up a book. Bruce raised his brow in question.
" The cult that took him wanted some translations it seems. " John said as he opened and old, leather bound book, more interested in the book at the moment.
" That's not good. I'm assuming he will resist... They are going to torture him. " Bruce said solemnly, eyes darting around the apartment.
" We will put the bookshelf the way it was. Maybe they were after the books and weapons. " Bruce said and John sighed as he put the book where he found it and then did what Bruce asked from him.
From that day, two months passed. Bruce and everyone else worked tirelessly to find their favorite person. Bruce his boyfriend, soon to be a fiancé, the boys their second dad, one that is more emotionally open and Alfred needed one person who is going to be somewhat normal.
Bruce nearly jumped out of his skin when he got a location. They boys and him piled into the batmobile and drove as fast as the car allowed it.
To say that they had to fight their way in was an understatement. Alfred was anxiously waiting in the cave.
Bruce nearly died when he saw (Y/N). Bloodied, bruised... Bruce didn't want to know the specifics. He picked his beloved up and moved to the car and he made sure to call the SWAT team from GCPD, alongside a few more organizations.
The cult deserves it, okay? Was he over reacting? Maybe.
But that didn't matter now. What mattered is the fact that (Y/N) is taken care of and is alive and well.
To say he drove like a madman... Would be the biggest understatement of the century. Once they came, they rushed their favorite person to Alfred.
Time was of the essence.
Bruce waited for his boys to finish talking to their second dad. (Y/N) had awoken and although still weak, he still talked to his sons. After 20 minutes, Bruce ushered them out, making them all protest a bit, but in the end they knew that they need to go.
Jason hugged his dad, very carefully and left. Dick kissed his dad's cheek and Tim squeezed his hand. Damian hugged his second dad before leaving and the two partners are soon left alone.
" I'm sorry for not telling you the truth... But it was too difficult. " (Y/N) said and Bruce kissed his cheek softly.
" Don't apologize. I understand that. "
" I'm assuming you found my base? " (Y/N) asked and Bruce nodded.
" John said you have a collection people would kill for... This is such shit timing, but would you like to move in? " Bruce said and (Y/N) snorted, but stopped because of his ribs.
" Yes, I would love nothing more. "
Bruce kissed (Y/N)'s cheek again. " Good. I'll leave you to rest. "
" Can you stay with me? "
Bruce smiled and nodded, changing into his PJs before gently laying down next to (Y/N), wrapping him into blankets and the two quickly feel asleep.
The two were finally reunited.
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abrunettefangirlnerd · 10 months
Text
Overwhelmed
Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader
Prompt: Reader has bouncing between so many things in her life that is leaving her chronically exhausted. It hasn’t been too much of a problem until one afternoon. The only one that seems to notice is JJ.
Warnings: Near death experience
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The blinding sun crinkles your eyes as you drive your way to the Chateau. Sweat beats down your entire body from the day working with your father. He is a construction worker with his own company, and you work with him during the summer for some spending money. Even though he is your father, he still has you doing all the same heavy lifting as anyone else that works for him.
Normally every summer has been fine. You also work at a local gym on Figure 8 almost every day for a few hours. You’d work with your dad in the morning, work at the gym in the afternoon, and hangout or relax with your friends in the evening. 
Though for some reason this summer your dad thinks any free time you have will be with him, unless you’re sleeping of course. You’ve had talks with him, and he always seems to be on the same page. That is until he starts telling you all that he needs help with and how you are going to come and help before and after the gym all week.
Luckily today ended up being a day he didn’t have much for you to do. Instead of wasting another second you made a beeline for your friends before he could change his mind. You love your dad, and the extra cash, but trying to keep up with work and maintaining your social life leaves very little room to just breathe. 
Though you find yourself struggling to try. From the constant buzz of life that has become almost normal, you find yourself getting anxious anytime you are just laying around. Even if you are with your friends. Anytime you aren’t on the boat or helping with the newest endeavor of finding the gold, you feel like you should be doing something.
“Hey it’s my girl!” JJ shouts from the couch on the porch. Beer in hand.
“Hey babe.” You say with a smile after greeting him with a kiss. “Did you guys catch anything on the boat?”
“Not much but we did manage to save some leftovers for you,” your best friend John B offers. “It’s only been sitting out a few minutes.”
Feeling your stomach rumble, you assure him that you are hungry enough to eat it raw. Walking into the kitchen you let your smile faulter. You allow the wandering exhaustion to settle over you for a moment. Holding back the exhaustion is exhausting enough.
You feel the nice warm water wash your hands of drywall dust, paint, and sweat. Heading over to the counter you find your plate and grab a fork before rejoining the boys. Kie apparently has to work tonight since she was out all day with the boys. Though she promised to come back over after her shift at The Wreck.
You take the empty seat next to JJ, and as you do an involuntary sigh escapes your lips. As you dig into your dinner you hope that the guys haven’t noticed. If they ask you if everything is okay, you’re afraid some tears of frustration and tiredness would break through. Instead you focus your attention on the food in front of you and the latest pointless debate between the boys. Before you know it, every last bite on the plate is gone.
“Hey lets go back out on the HSM Pogue!” John B excitedly gets up. “Sun is setting, nice night dip.”
Everyone excitedly agrees and you head into the spare bedroom to slip into your swimsuit. As you pull up your straps, completing your ensemble, there is a knock on the door. Without asking who it is, you tell them to come in. Only one person would want to come in and that is JJ. It is basically his room after all.
Closing the door behind him, JJ takes in the sight of you. The newly defined muscles on your arms and legs from the work with your dad. You can’t complain about the benefit of the job. Though when his eyes meet yours all you can see is concern.
“If you’d rather stay in and relax I’ll stay with you.” JJ offers you. An overwhelming sweep of adoration floods through your senses, but next comes the wave of anxiety. No, I can’t do nothing.
“It’s okay, we can go on the boat.” Your voice upbeat and convincing of the energy you do not contain. “I’m fine.”
Even as the last two words leave your lips, tears form behind your eyes. Thankfully the room is dark, no power on the Cut from the hurricane. Unconvinced, JJ nods and heads back out with the other two. You take two deep breathes as you clear your eyes and slow your now racing heart. With a quick nod at yourself in the mirror, you make your way out to the HSM Pogue.
The sound of the waves hitting against the boat is almost enough to pull you to sleep. That and the warmth of JJ’s arm around your waist. Leaning into him you find your eyes fluttering shut every few minutes. If this wasn’t the first time you’d physically seen everybody in days, you would have just stayed at the Chateau with JJ.
Situating yourself, you lean toward the cooler for a cold beer. Even though you know alcohol is a narcotic it just gives you something to do than think about how tired you are. From the corner of your eye you see JJ analyzing you. Aside from a beer here and there, you aren’t much of a drinker. It isn’t until you send him a smile that he drops his watchful gaze and smiles back.
“This looks like a good spot.” John B insists as he slows the boat to a stop and throws the anchor over.
The four of you jump into the cool water. The sudden alertness gifted by the water sends you through the break into the sky. Though as your body adjusts to its temperature the feeling of exhaustion returns.
JJ wraps his arms around you and peppers your face with kisses. Squealing, you try to pry him away from you but your efforts are futile. Taking your frame in his, JJ manages to throw you a few feet in the direction of Pope. Who of course fakes offence at the unseen attack. Water is thrashed around by each person until a full blown water war breaks out.
Swimming around to the boat, you take deep breathes as you watch the boys continue splashing around. You plan to hide out for a bit before climbing onto the boat and performing a cannon ball that will soak everyone. The splash to end all splashes. Not wanting to spoil the fun yet, you float on your back in the water. 
You close your eyes and feel the cool water soak into your warm skin. The aches and pains from the day’s work unravel from your body. Dark clouds filter behind your eyelids as the sounds around you become more muffled. You know you should get up but you can’t will your body to move. 
The water around you laps farther up your face, and within a few moments you’re completely submerged into the water. Making the mistake to breathe, a burning sensation fills your lungs and your body fights out of its own slumber. But you’ve already breathed in too much water and your body is still too exhausted to propel your body toward the surface. 
**
Looking around JJ realizes that he hasn’t seen (Y/N) in a few minutes. He calls out (Y/N)’s name while circling around the boat. Giving up on swimming, JJ climbs up on the boat and surveys around the best he can in the dark.
Panic rises within JJ’s chest and his breathing becomes labored. JJ knew he should have suggested harder that you two stay at the Chateau. He could tell through (Y/N)’s eyes how exhausted she truly is. Just a few nights ago he went to surprise her at home. Crawled in through her window with a big bag of snacks and drinks that will keep her up well into the night. However, the moment JJ wrapped his arms around her, (Y/N) was knocked out cold.
With his shaking hands, JJ grabs for a flashlight and shines it on the water. JJ knows he won’t be able to see anything but he can’t think straight. Just before he is ready to radio for help he sees a bubble rise to his right.
Not wasting any time, JJ dives into the water. His eyes spot (Y/N) a few feet down from him, unmoving. A shot of ice cold fear radiates through his body as he fights his limbs to move him toward (Y/N). JJ wraps his arms around her waist and propels his legs to break the surface above.
“HELP!!” JJ screams to John B and Pope. “HELP!!”
The guys hear him and turn to face his panic-stricken face. Realizing that (Y/N) is in JJ’s arms, the guys spring into action. John B gets onto the boat while Pope joins JJ and lifts (Y/N)’s limp body. JJ grabs onto the boat and pulls his body up and is quickly joined by Pope.
“Tell me how to do CPR!” JJ frantically shouts to Pope.
“You think I know?”
“You’re the fucking genius,” JJ lays you flat on your back, “so help me goddammit! I can’t lose her!”
“Okay okay!” Pope presses his fingers against his temple as he thinks about what to do. “Chest compressions! Two sets of 30 and then mouth to mouth. Check for breathing and then start over!”
JJ places his hands over (Y/N)’s chest and begins to press up and down. His actions start off timid, afraid that he will hurt her but feverishly picks up when he sees there is no change. Lowering his mouth to (Y/N)’s, JJ breathes air past her lips and sees her chest rise and fall. JJ can’t believe that only moments ago the last time he was this close the two of you were kissing, and now he is trying to breathe life into her.
I can’t lose her. I can’t lose her. She’s my everything. I can’t lose her…
JJ presses up and down (Y/N)’s chest to this mantra. Years ago, his mother left and his father became a raging drunk who is always on someone else’s meds. (Y/N) made him stable, made his life feel stable. Without her, JJ is scared he will end up just like his father. (Y/N) has showed him that there is more to life than the Outer Banks. They always talked about leaving one day, buying a house, running a business, and eventually starting their own family. Right now, all those happy plans are slipping past JJ’s fingertips along with (Y/N).
**
A burning rush of water flows up your throat as a coughing fit surges through your chest. Grabbing on to something nearby, you flip on your side to help expel the contents. Even as all the water leaves your system you keep coughing and feel as though you will never stop.
After what feels like forever, your coughing subsides and you feel two strong arms wrap around your torso. As you take in what happened, you feel your body begin to shake at the realization that you could have died. Tears flood your cheeks and fall against JJ’s bare shoulders. That’s when you register that JJ is shaking as well.
“JJ,” you say as your hand holds the back of his head, “I’m okay. It’s okay.”
JJ doesn’t speak but shakes his head against your skin. His head fits in the crook of your neck and you feel him breathing in your sent. It’s as if he doesn’t believe that you are awake and breathing.
“JJ look at me.” You whisper.
Reluctantly JJ’s eyes meet yours. You see his blood shot eyes and tear-stricken face. JJ leans his forehead against yours as his fingers run through your hair. A pit hits the bottom of your stomach as you think about how worried JJ was and how reckless you were.
“Next time,” JJ takes a deep breath as his voice catches, “can we just stay at the Chateau?”
“Yes, yes.” You sigh in relief.
JJ connects your lips with his. The kiss starts off soft and gentle, but JJ quickly turns it hungry and desperate. It’s as if he needs you instead of air. In this moment you make yourself a promise that you won’t over work yourself from now on. You’ve realized that you aren’t the only one that will become overwhelmed.
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It is a truth universally acknowledged that a person in possession of a good blorbo must be in want of art of that blorbo. And on this front, I have suffered because there is really no Háma art out there despite the fact that he’s rad. (I won’t bore you all again with all of the reasons why he’s the best, but you can find that here.) So I asked @rinthecap to draw me a lovely and handsome Háma, and they delivered in the best possible way!!! Here’s my guy, with a lot on his mind as he watches his king slowly lose his grip on reality, but always at the ready to jump into the fray and help.
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I love ALL of Rincap’s art, which you should definitely all go check out if you haven’t, and am extremely grateful for this beautiful and necessary contribution to a world that was severely lacking in Háma representation! ♥️♥️♥️ His face, his armor, his hair, it’s all aces!
And here, for good measure, is my Háma headcanon:
His father was the royal armorer in Edoras, and his mother worked alongside him; he did the metal work, and she handled leather. Little Háma grew up around their workshop, playing quietly in the back or listening to his mother tell stories while she stitched together vambraces or gloves. As he got older, he helped his parents with simple tasks, like linking rings for chainmail. When a mailcoat he worked on saved Théoden from a Dunlendish arrow and the king himself came by to thank young Háma, he nearly burst with pride. He knew right then that he wanted to dedicate his life to protecting the king and made it his goal to be captain of his guard someday.
Háma’s father was severely injured in a workshop accident not long after, and everyone marveled at how quickly he apparently recovered and was able to keep turning out work. What they didn’t know is that Háma’s mother took over most of the business, having learned metal crafting over the many years of work alongside her husband. They didn’t tell anyone who was actually making the pieces because they weren’t sure anyone would wear armor made entirely by a woman, but Háma knew, of course, and it filled him with both pride and frustration to hear people heap praise on his mother’s work while attributing it all to his father.
While he was working his way up through the ranks of the guards, Háma met and fell in love with Bryttalif, a midwife in Edoras. Brytta was herself pregnant and unmarried when they met, so she was viewed as a little scandalous. But they hit it off right away and he really didn’t care about town gossip or what other people had to say because she was just the sort of kind and gentle-hearted person that he was. The scandal was eventually forgotten because Háma and Brytta got married, which gave the whole situation a sheen of acceptability. He adopted her daughter Halwinë as his own and was absolutely crazy about her–Middle Earth’s truest Girl Dad. Brytta was pregnant with their second child when Háma was killed at Helm’s Deep. It was a boy she named Wilspell (“welcome news”).
Háma’s sword was recovered from outside the gate of the Hornburg after his death and was thereafter always used by the captain of the king’s guard, being transferred from person to person as part of a little ceremony whenever a new captain was appointed.
He was buried in armor his mother made.
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elizabethemerald · 8 months
Text
Girl's Knight
It was supposed to be girl’s night. Tim was on Comms so Barbara could be here, and the rest of the Bats had all but forced them to take the night off, each of them promising that they would handle the crime of the city so the girls could relax for one night. The plan had been a movie at the theater, dining out in their fanciest dresses that were usually only used for stuffy galas, then returning to the clocktower for drinks and makeovers. Not to mention looking through Babara’s cache of black mail videos of all the fails of the boys. 
Of course, they still lived in Gotham. When did anything go to plan in Gotham? 
The theater had been attacked by Dr. Freeze. He basically turned the whole building into a snowglobe. Since no one was inside it, Batman was just going to leave the building to thaw normally. So they should be able to enjoy movies there again sometime in April. The fancy restaurant turned out to be a front for a mob family and while they knew that, Jim Gordon had jumped the gun on cracking down and shut the place down. Babs was going to give her dad an annoyed call tomorrow about that one. 
So now the trio of Barbara, Cassandra and Stephanie were at Batburger in their gala finest. The night could still be saved if they could just get back to the clock tower. Then Condiment King strutted into the Batburger. All three of them sighed and Cass and Steph started silently arguing back and forth on who would slip out to deal with him. No matter who stayed and who left, there were even odds of all of them getting covered in something foul smelling. 
However all three of them were surprised when a pair at another table were the ones to rise. 
Cassandra had of course clocked them when she entered, that part of her brain that she could never shut off had cataloged every person in the restaurant before she was even fully past the door. 
The woman was tall, taller than any of her brothers. Even taller than Bruce. She might even be as tall as Wonder Woman. She had long flaming red locks that cascaded down her back, restrained only by a teal headband. She had sat facing the entrance and had clearly clocked the Batgirl trio as fighters as well. She was well muscled and moved with the practiced grace of a trained martial artist. When Condiment King had appeared she had seemed more annoyed than scared or truly bothered by him. 
Her companion was skinny and small in the same way that street kids usually were, the same way Jason had been and even Cass herself. Like no matter how much food he ate it would never be enough to make up for not getting enough as a kid. Even though he had his back to the entrance he had still been aware of every person as they came and went, cocking his head and tracking them by sound alone. He looked to be the same age Cass was. Cass could tell they were siblings, though they looked just about as different as possible. 
The two of them had conversed in rapid sign language, the woman speaking and signing, while he listened and signed back. It made Cassandra’s heart leap, seeing someone else just like her. She had just happened to sit so she could read some of his signs while showing that she used ASL as well. Though he apparently didn’t like his food very much because he kept saying something about “nasty burgers.” 
Right before Condiment King had walked in, the guy had sat up and shivered before looking around warily. His sister had sighed and carefully wiped her fingers on her napkin, unhurried by whatever had spooked him. Then one of Gotham’s least effective, yet most annoying, rogues walked in and declared he was robbing the place. 
The guy stood up and pulled what looked to Cass to be a highly scientific soup thermos and snuck up behind Condiment King as he was threatening the tired, underpaid and overworked cashiers. Cass couldn’t help but notice how silent he walked, he glided over the ground like a dancer as if gravity was only the merest of suggestions. He thumbed a switch on the side of his thermos and a brilliant blue beam poured out, catching Condiment King’s attention. 
Condiment King turned and almost jumped out of his skin when he saw a random civilian holding a soup container threateningly. The rogue and the stranger both looked down at the thermos in confusion. He opened his mouth as if to speak but instead some horrible combination of sparking electricity, cracking ice and distant screams came out. Somehow Cass could almost hear words past the noise and she was amazed that she could understand him. 
“Huh. I would have sworn you were one of mine.” 
Condiment King scowled past his confusion and readied his mustard cannon. 
“Danny, now's not the time for quips.” His sister said as she pulled him out of the way of the yellow fountain. “I’m not letting you back in the apartment if you smell like mustard.” 
Then she pulled a baton from the back of her belt that extended into a bo staff. Two quick strikes had Condiment King disarmed and on the ground, a third and he was dazed enough to not be a threat. 
“Well done, Jazz!” Danny had set his thermos down on the countertop so he could excitedly sign to his sister, then he looked around in confusion. “But then what triggered my ghost sense?” 
No sooner had he finished his signs, than a translucent being phased through the wall, a box in his hands. He looked to be dressed as a regular warehouse worker, though he glowed, floated and apparently could ignore solid walls. He immediately began flinging frozen hamburger patties from his box around. 
“I’m the Box Ghost! Ghostly master of all things rectangular and corrugated! Beware!” 
“Ah, there you are Boxy.” Danny said in his strange and crackling voice. Cass could see that Stephanie and Barbara couldn’t understand what he was saying as they both clamped their hands over their ears at the cacophony. 
Cass watched Danny with this Box Ghost. Clearly the two knew each other, she could practically see the rapport Danny had. She couldn’t keep herself from admiring Danny’s form. He flowed like water around the frozen patties. Even when her brothers were at their most agile and graceful, there was an element of elegance that was missing from their movements. Yet with Danny he skated around the projectiles. 
He was also aware of every person in the restaurant. One of the frozen burgers would have easily missed Danny, but hit one of the others, except he caught it and spun it right back at Box Ghost. That level of awareness was difficult for even seasoned heroes, and showed how often Danny had faced overwhelming odds, he knew exactly what would happen if he failed to be aware of someone in the line of fire. 
She appreciated how in control he was of his strength. She could see it in the bunching and tightening of his muscles that he wasn’t using anywhere near his full strength in this fight. It was a level of restraint she knew far too personally. It was the restraint of someone who had hurt others before and would never do so again. 
“Alright Boxy, you’re making a mess. Time to be done” Danny said, grabbing the thermos once more and again flipping the switch. This time when the beam of light caught the ghost it began to pull them in like a vortex. 
“Darn your cylindrical containment device!” The voice of the Box Ghost diminished until it completely disappeared along with the ghost and the beam of light. Danny spun the thermos in his hand for a moment before he clipped it onto his belt with a flourish. 
Cass glanced at the other Batgirls and, unsurprisingly, saw Steph almost salivating over the amazonian woman. Steph liked her women strong, tall and hyper competent. Meetings with the rest of the Justice League usually left her vibrating with barely controlled desire. She had almost needed a vacation the first time she met Big Barda. Steph was already half way up out of her seat to introduce herself. 
Barbara seemed similarly impressed, though as she was currently dating Dinah Lance, her interest was different. She had her phone out and was typing rapidly, no doubt hacking the security system of the Batburger to remove any evidence of their actions, as clear a sign of her approval as anything. 
With a smile Cass also stood and followed Steph. The two Batgirls would absolutely introduce themselves to these two, and hopefully that introduction would eventually lead to a date, or maybe more.
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Text
My Default's Self-Destruct (Oh, I'm Not Used to Normal)
@nburkhardt, this ones for you, since you've been so excited and patient! Title from Jillian Rossi's Not Used to Normal.
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There is a doctor in his room, explaining the extent of his injuries to him and his uncle but Eddie quit listening when the doctor had started with it's our recommendation that he not start back on the scent blocker until-. Whatever the doc had to say after that was more for Wayne's benefit than his own, anyway. Eddie turns his face away from Uncle Wayne and the doc and stares at the wall.
Eddie knows he's a freak.
He never had an option to be anything else.
He was born wrong, a thing his dad would remind him of every time he was deep in his cups and feeling angry or bitter. Which is to say, he'd heard it every day until he was fourteen and, with his mom long gone and his dad's new prison sentence, he was shipped off to Hawkins, Indiana to live with his uncle.
It gave him a choice for the first time in his life.
It was salvation.
No one here knew a damn thing about him except what he wanted them to know. He got to curate his image exactly how he wanted it.
Loud, bold, mean, scary.
Anything that kept people at a distance because he wanted them to be. That's not to say he didn't let people get close. That he didn't have friends. He does.
He founded Hellfire sophomore year and made acquaintances with fellow nerds and geeks. Some stuck around, genuinely seemed to like him and he them, so he got some real friends out of it. Jeff, Frankie, and Gareth.
The only three people in the world who knew about him because he'd chosen to tell them.
But now with this doctor not wanting him to get back on his scent blockers as soon as possible, the whole town's going to know how much of a freak he really is.
His gut twists thinking about how Erica, Lucas, Max, Dustin, Nancy, Robin, and Steve already know. They have to know. Why else are they not here? There's no way they don't by now. Scent blockers need to be taken every day to work effectively. Missing a day every now and then is fine when Eddie knows he's not going to leave home or if it's just the guys he'd be seeing.
But he's missed sixteen days because today is April 7th, and he'd spent most of the prior three days fading in and out of consciousness trying to claw his way out of a coma. Now he's fully alert and aware. He'd woken up alone, but it wasn't long after that his uncle showed up, apparently summoned by a nurse.
"-ddie. Eddie, you still awake?" Wayne's voice is gentle in a way it never usually it. It makes Eddie want to pretend to be asleep.
"Yeah."
"The doc just left."
Eddie doesn't respond verbally. but he does turn his head back to look at Wayne instead of the wall.
"There's a boy down in the lobby. Been tryin' ta visit every day but, well," Wayne trails off with a one shoulder shrug, which seems the easier way to sum up all the events that place while he was in a coma. Wayne apparently making a fuss when the hospital finally got a hold of him and he'd come into Eddie's room to find his unconscious body handcuffed to the bed. No one's been around to explain the how or why to Eddie, but supposedly ten days after Eddie should have died, three days before he awoke for the first time, the "real" murderer was found and died in a gunfight with the police. Eddie's been pardoned, by some miracle.
"Why wasn't he allowed to visit?" Eddie asks, even as he dreads the answer.
"No visitor for murder suspects except family," Wayne says.
"Okay. But I was proven innocent six days ago."
"I know. This last week's been me. I told the staff no one but me could see ya until ya were awake enough to name 'em. Didn't know if that boy who led the manhunt was gonna try and get in, or send someone else after ya."
Warmth floods through Eddie then, both affection for his uncle and a hope that, maybe, no one's been here because they haven't been allowed to be. Maybe they don't- maybe they'll give him a chance even though he's a genetic freak of nature.
"Is it Dustin Henderson?"
"Nah, ain't him. He's been by as much as his ma will allow, though. Sits down there with the first boy."
If it's not Dustin then- "Steve?"
Wayne gives a one-sided grin before saying, "Steve Harrington Sir, if you wanna full name him."
That gets a laugh from Eddie. Wayne hates to be called sir, and he spent a full year calling Jeff 'Just Jeff Sir' when Jeff had made the mistake of correcting Eddie's introduction ("And this here, is Jeffery") while trying to be polite ("Please, it's just Jeff, sir."). Seems like Steve made the same mistake.
"Oh, fuck, don't make me laugh," Eddie wheezes, more from pain than laughter and Wayne looks only a little guilty for causing him pain. "But, uh, yeah. Steve's a-okay."
"Alright. I'll go let the nurse know. Anyone else you wan' ta come see ya?"
"Wait," Eddie says quickly, swallowing thickly. He has to know. "Do- have they... said anything? About me?"
"About you? What- oh," Wayne says. "Did they not know?"
Eddie shakes his head. "No. Not- I didn't tell them, but I haven't had a scent blocker since the first day of spring break. They have to know, right? Everyone always knows."
"Do you want me to ask before gettin' them approved to visit?" Wayne asks, softly and sincere and it makes Eddie's eyes water. He closes them to prevent the tears.
"No. It's fine. Better to, uhh, get this over with. Learn if this will change anything, y'know?"
"And you wanna start with Steve Harrington Sir? He's an alpha, ain't he?"
"Don't act like you don't already know. Everyone and their mother talks about how alpha he smells. I heard about Steve and his alpha scent before I'd even met the dude."
"Well, no need to be so uppity about it," Wayne grouses.
"Sorry. Guess I'm just... not in the mood to joke about this. People don't- they change how they treat me, once they know."
"Just Jeff didn't, nor Gareth or Frankie."
"Yeah, but they were my friends first. I- they saved my life but that doesn't make us friends."
Wayne shakes his head. "You tell that to the boy sittin' in the lobby right now waitin' to see ya."
That's right. The hope that has bloomed earlier. If they did know, they were still around. Either because they are his friends and they care, or they have... questions, possibly. Still, "You'll be in here? When he comes in?"
"I won't leave unless you ask me to," Wayne assures and then he's gone. Out the door, to retrieve Steve.
Jesus Christ, this is fucked. Eddie feels so anxious and scared and he shouldn't. He's never been afraid before. Just. Fed up with how people treat him. How they scrunch their noses when they smell him. When they look at the whole of him and realize there's something wrong with him and their expression changes to either pity or disgust.
Wayne's gone just long enough for Eddie to regret his decision but then it's too late. The first person to enter his room is Steve, followed closely why Wayne.
"Eddie!" Steve says, and Eddie is confused. Steve sounds... awed? A bit breathless like he's witnessed a miracle.
"Hey Steve," Eddie manages to squeak out and that's all the permission Steve seems to need. He crosses the room quickly, dragging a second chair from the corner with him to the opposite side of the bed from where Wayne has taken up station.
"Fuck, Eddie, we didn't know if you'd- but you did. You're awake," Steve says, even as he's trying to sniff the air. Probably trying to get a read on Eddie's own scent, and therefore his own emotional state. When Steve doesn't find what he's looking for, his brows furrow into confusion, and he looks so fucking adorable with his face scrunched like that. He's glad Steve can't smell that on him, at least.
"I'm awake," Eddie says.
Steve nods, but his confused face doesn't fade. Instead he sniffs the room more loudly, thoroughly. He looks to Wayne, then back to Eddie. He does that a few times before settling on Eddie.
Eddie sighs heavily. "Go ahead. Ask."
"What? Oh, uh, nothing to ask, I guess. Just thought Wayne would have scented you by now, but I don't smell him on you."
"Yeah. Wayne's nose barely works, so no point in that."
"A fact I'm thankful for every time you'd finally drag out the days old dishes from your room," Wayne quips.
"Hey!" Eddie shoots him a wounded look as his face gets hot. Low blow, old man, he thinks.
"Oh. Do you... not get isolation sickness? Is that rude to ask?" Steve asks.
"I don't get isolation sickness anymore, not since long before you were even born," Wayne answers. He's still hovering by the door, expecting to be dismissed by Eddie probably, since Steve's not- since Steve doesn't seem to- Eddie doesn't know. Is he too nice to ask out right? Too disturbed by it to even bring it up?
"And, uh, isolation sickness could never effect me," Eddie says, biting the bullet, looking at a wrinkle on his blanket instead of at Steve.
"What?" Steve sounds startled by the answer, as if he can't understand. Maybe he doesn't.
"I can't get isolation sickness."
"That doesn't- everyone but childr-" Steve cuts himself off, and Eddie hears more sniffing before his startled by Steve grabbing his arm. He looks up quickly, and sees Wayne move closer from the corner of his eye, as Steve shoves his nose into Eddie's wrist and takes a deep breath. A sound between a whimper and a whine comes from Steve. "But you- What?"
"Steve."
"Eddie, I don't understand?"
Eddie looks to Wayne, who raises his brows as if to ask want me to tell him? He almost nods, but this is going to be the first of many conversations, and he might as well get the practice in. "Steve. You can only get isolation sickness after your secondary gender develops. I can't. 'Cause I don't have a secondary gender."
Steve blinks at him. Then blinks some more. He opens his mouth, then closes it and blinks even more. "I- how- what? It hasn't developed yet?"
Eddie groans in frustration. "No, Steve. It won't develop ever. I don't have one, I won't have one! No scent gland will ever grow, no second puberty as my body changes to be able to send and receive emotional signals, no bonding gland to establish pack or mate!"
"Wha-"
"Don't! What aren't you getting? I'm a genetic fucking freak of nature who can't ever bond with pack or a mate because I don't have a secondary gender!"
Steve jerks back at Eddie's sudden outburst, "Sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't- I wasn't trying to, uhh, offend."
Eddie scoffs and looks away. He wants to roll onto his side, put his back to Steve and block him out. Offend. Eddie's not offended. He's- fuck, he's sad and scared and angry. Because he spent a week flirting freely with Steve, who'd started to flirt back and now it's all back to just being a fantasy in Eddie's mind.
Steve's an alpha. Even if... even if he ever might have entertained the idea of being with Eddie, that's going to be gone now. Alpha's want omega's. They'll settle for a beta, sure, but that's what it is. Settling.
And Eddie's not even that.
He's nothing. No secondary gender, no place in society, he'll always smell like a goddamn child to everyone else. He knows how this goes. Until he's back on the scent blockers, which just make him smell like chemicals, they're going to treat him like a child, or like a pariah.
"Eddie-" Steve says, quiet.
Whatever it is, Eddie doesn't want to hear it. "I'm tired. I hurt. Please leave."
Eddie stares at a spot on the wall as Wayne escorts Steve from his room. He doesn't let himself cry until after counting to thirty in his head once the door's closed.
@i-less-than-three-you @afewproblems @skepsiss
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halfagone · 1 year
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Thank you! So this next one is a risky just a DP x DC au. Basically, Dani joins the young Justice and constantly gushes about her father Danny, with her bragging about his achievements and causing both the YJ team and the league as a whole extremely curious about him (especially Batman). When Dani finally decides to introduce them to him, they were not expecting an 18 year old who’s already ruling the realms despite his young age. Naturally, shenanigans ensue from there. What do you think?
Hmm... *strokes non-existent goatee* Now this is an AU I don't usually do... (I have a threshold for angst, as I like to call it, for any given story, and I wonder if this would've passed the threshold) I think for best comical effect Danny shouldn't be super mature like he is in, say... Off With the Demon's Head, where we see a similar father-daughter kind of dynamic between Danny and Ellie. That way the YJ and JL are all the more shocked when they realize that this is the guy Ellie's been talking about all along. Also if Ellie and Danny are only, like, four years apart so Danny's 18 and Ellie's 14 and they call each other father and daughter that would be hilarious XDD
I have been extremely picky about my Ghost King AUs recently, however, so I don't know how I would go about this. There are so many fics with this concept, I've written a number of fics with it too, and not all of them really do it for me anymore? I don't know if I just feel burnt out from the idea thanks to oversaturation or what, so I don't know what I could do for you on this idea. But! I can have a really funny exchange/reveal. >:D
---
Ellie, otherwise known as Phantom ("The Second," Ellie would always tut. "It's Phantom the Second, and don't you forget it."), hopped around excitedly as they stood at the zeta tubes, waiting for her apparent father to arrive. More than a few of them were shifting around on anxious feet, wondering how this meeting would go. Ellie had never held back on boasting about her father, and well. Could you blame them for being intimidated? Even just a little? Many of them hadn't gotten the privilege of seeing his exploits themselves, but they had seen the ripple effect across the world nonetheless. It was nothing to scoff at.
Oh gosh, they were totally going to blow this, weren't they?
Batman remained as stern as ever, even though he was just as curious and intrigued by the stories Ellie had shared. What concerned him the most at the moment, however, was how Ellie had told them to wait here, at the zeta tubes, when Batman was sure that no outsiders should be able to enter the base without the assistance of-
Before he could even finish that thought, there was a blinding ripple of light concentrated around a seam in the fabric of time and space itself. Many of them had to shield or close their eyes to protect their sight from the glare, and when the light finally abated they looked back to see a figure floating above the ground. A ebony black crown floated about their head, wisps of black fire smoking from its gemstones. A thick black coat was thrown over one shoulder, lined with a shock of white fur. It hid the royal regalia underneath, but the quality of it could not be understated.
The mop of white hair couldn't hide the toxic green eyes, no matter the fringe that laid atop of it. Those eyes were piercing, staring into their souls without mercy. More than one of them swallowed; that was fine, only the Supers could hear them... Right?
When the figure laid their eyes on Ellie, they smiled, revealing fanged, glittering white teeth.
"Dad!" Ellie shouted with excitement, floating off the ground without realizing it.
In another flash of bright light, the intimidating figure was then replaced with a young teenager, whose black hair floated gently as they touched down on the ground. Bright green had turned into calm blue, and the royal garb had been replaced with... an uni hoodie with tattered jeans?
"Hi, baby! How are you?" The teenager exclaimed as Ellie threw herself into his arms. "Is it okay if we have McDonald's for dinner? Uh, there was an accident in the kitchen again."
"Don't tell me you and Pa blew something up again," Ellie groaned with exasperation.
"Don't be ridiculous, me and your mom did this time," Ellie's father remarked with nervous laughter. Ellie shook her head at his antics. It was then that the unknown teenager turned to them. "Oh hi! You guys must be the Justice League, and... Young Justice? I hope that's correct? Ellie's told us a lot about you guys. Has she been good? How much collateral damage has she caused?"
"She burned down a lab the other day," Superman commented distantly, his shock overwhelming him.
The teenager gasped, turning back to Ellie. "You did? Aw, I'm so proud of you." He pulled her into another hug, making the younger girl giggle in happiness.
Meanwhile, everyone else couldn't help but stare. What the actual what just happened?
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turvi · 1 year
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Hi! I was wondering if you could do a George Weasley x reader where she's Harry's ago and either Remus or Sirius daughter? Thank you (:
Hope you like this. Both Remus and Sirius are fathers.
Warning: Kissing, Dramatic Sirius
Y/n woke feeling excited to spend summer vacation with the Weasleys. Her parents were alright about it in fact they were looking forward to spending some quality time alone. Because of the war, they were forced to stay apart for nearly a decade. 
“Good Morning Love” Sirius greeted you from the kitchen. 
“Good morning pops” she wished him as he laid her breakfast in front of her and kissed her temple. 
“Did you sleep well?” 
“Yes father” 
“Don’t call me that it makes me sound… old” He gasped 
“You are old” she replied with a smirk 
He sniffed again “take that back” 
By now Remus was also up from all the commotion. He silently went up to Sirius and hugged him while he was busy arguing with Y/n about how he was not old. 
“Don’t you guys have better things to do than bicker?” Remus groaned into Sirius’ neck 
“It gives a kickstart to our morning” Sirius replied his lover handing his breakfast 
“You need hobbies both of you” 
“Good morning Papa” Y/n wished Remus with a bright smile 
“Good morning pumpkin, have you packed everything?” He asked ever the concerned parent. 
“Yes. And checked twice too like you always say.” 
“Do you really have to go pumpkin? Our home is going to feel so empty without you” Sirius gave his best puppy eyes that always used to work in his favor. 
“Pops not this again please” she got up to get her bags from her room. She loved spending time with her parents and cherished their moments together after the war she gained a new perspective on life. This is the reason she decided to spend her break at the Burrow. 
“Has Harry reached there?” Sirius asked helping her with her luggage. 
“Yeah everyone is there except for me” 
“Yes stick with him those twins are always up to something mischievous” Sirius shivered remembering the last time twins were at their home and played a prank on Sirius. 
“Hmm, but they feel a bit familiar to me” she smirked at her father who was trying to process her words.
Before she could leave someone came stumbling out of the fireplace. Remus got up to see it was George. 
“Hey, Darling” George practically sprinted towards Y/n ignoring the glares of Sirius Black. He embraced her and twirled her around but was immediately interrupted by Sirius. 
“Unhand her you dunderhead” 
George carefully put y/n down and took her luggage “It was nice meeting you Mr. Black and Mr. Lupin, we will see you soon” 
As soon as George held Y/n’s wrist Sirius pulled her back. “Not so fast young lad, Y/n why is this creature calling you darling.”
“Pops I told you he is my boyfriend” 
Sirius gasped “Oh no he isn’t” 
“Dad are you alright?” 
“Oh godric I think I am going to have a heart attack” 
Y/n looked up at Remus who was reading newspaper and drinking his morning tea “Oh, he will be fine, you guys carry on. We will see you soon hun” 
“You better keep one arm distance with her” Sirius’ threat fell in empty ears as the couple had left.
George picked up Y/n’s luggage kissing her lips briefly before apparating to his humble abode. 
“My own daughter how could she do this to me?” 
Remus sighed “Exactly love she is your daughter she has a thing for trouble and George isn’t that bad” 
“Not that bad! He dyed my hair purple, you of all people should know how much I love my hair” Sirius sassed. 
“Oh I know” Remus retorted when suddenly noticed a solemn look on his lover’s face. Remus obviously loved Y/n but she had wrapped Sirius around her fingers ever since she was a little baby.  
As a baby when she refused to sleep and wailed in Remus’s arms she would immediately fall asleep in Sirius' arm. With Y/n Remus found a new soft and more loving side of his lover
“Moony my little pumpkin has grown up. She has a boyfriend now.” 
Remus sighed and hugged Sirius. Merlin knows he needed it. 
“Padfoot she will be back before you know it.” 
“Why did she have to date that weaselboy?” 
“I think she takes after me for that matter. Falling for a troublemaker” Remus gives him a loving smile that always seems to comfort Sirius. They kissed as they slow danced in their home enjoying the peace the morning had brought. 
"She will be fine love she has us" Remus tried to comfort him.
"Yeah, "Sirius smiled at him kissing his lips and scars Remus' chuckle echoing in the house.
BONUS 
Y/n and George were under his blanket sharing kisses and laughs. 
“I can’t wait to marry you” George confessed with a lovesick smile. 
“My father has barely accepted you as my boyfriend and you are talking about marriage” she pointed out even though she loved the idea that he presented her. 
“It’s ok I will always be here. With you. It is fine if we never get married I still want to spend my life with you.” 
“Ohh dear, George I think you love me” 
He chuckled “You think?” He kissed her lips, his cold hands leaving goosebumps on her waist as he pins her on her bed. They are interrupted by tapping on the window. They both peep from the blanket to see a very aghast Sirius Black. 
“This is not one arm distance Weasley!!!!” 
“I think you should start running George” 
“Good idea love.”
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callsign-mayhem · 1 year
Text
to the moon and back
Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Mitchell!Reader Word Count: 5.2k
You are the daughter of Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell and the lifelong best friend of Bradley Bradshaw. Nothing has ever been able to get in between the two of you, not even the feelings you’ve been harbouring for him for as long as you can remember. But when you both get called to Top Gun for what seems to be a suicide mission, you realise that life is too short to keep your love for him a secret.
Y/CS - your call sign
Use of Y/N but no description of reader
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You couldn’t remember the last time you laid eyes on Bradley Bradshaw, and if you’d known you would be this affected by the mere sight of him then you would have better prepared yourself. He was in his rightful place behind the piano at The Hard Deck, performing ‘Great Balls of Fire’ with all his usual enthusiasm, and then some. His infectious personality had every person in the bar gravitating towards him, belting out the lyrics along with him as though their lives depended on it. You had to draw from every reserve of strength you had so as not to march right up to him and kiss him senseless. You’d missed him so much.
Being deployed had been difficult for you and had felt like exactly the wrong thing at the time, but eventually you realised that it was what you needed. If you’d stayed, it would have only been a matter of time until you spilt your guts to Bradley about the feelings you’d been harbouring for him since you were teenagers.
The song was almost over and so was your time for composing yourself. It was ridiculously warm in the packed bar, so taking a deep breath was no good. You resigned yourself to a few shots of something strong - liquid courage if you will - and headed to the bar to speak to Penny.
‘Y/N!’ she exclaimed, ‘what are you doing here?’ ‘I have no idea,’ you told her, ‘an assignment of some sort. I find out more tomorrow,’ you gestured to Bradley and a few of your other friends from the academy, ‘and apparently I’m not the only one they called. I don’t know whether I should be worried or relieved.’ ‘Your dad was just in here. He know you’re back?’ ‘Yeah, I haven’t seen him yet though,’ you gestured to the bottle of Jack behind her, ‘can I get one of those, please? Or three?’ Penny reached for the bottle and a shot glass. ‘Not wasting any time, huh?’ You glanced behind you to where Phoenix was patting Bradley on the back and getting everyone to cheer for him, ‘It’s been a while since I’ve seen these guys.’ ‘You mean it’s been a while since you saw Rooster,’ she smiled knowingly. You downed your shot and slammed the tiny glass back down. Penny refilled it immediately, ‘That too,’ you admitted with a wince. ‘You already know what I’m going to say.’ ‘Yes, and you already know why I can’t tell him.’
You downed your second shot and just as you were about to do your third, someone covered your eyes with their hand. You knew who it was without having to hear him speak or look at his face because you’d know him deaf and blind. Hell, you’d know him in death.
The familiar rumble of his voice in your ear set your entire nervous system alight: ‘Guess who.’ ‘Hmm,’ you pretended to think, ‘I don’t know. Hangman?’ Rooster scoffed, ‘I haven’t seen you in two years and the first thing you do is insult me? Glad to know some things never change, Y/CS.’
You spun around and looped your arms around his neck, pressing your face into the side of his. He lifted you off the floor and spun you around with all the grace of a bull in a china shop, laughing like a little kid. It felt like no time at all had passed.
‘And you’re still shooting whiskey like it’s water,’ he noted, setting you down gently, ‘so you definitely haven’t changed.’
You drank him in hungrily, trying to act like you weren’t totally out of control on the inside. In one of his dad’s old Hawaiian shirts with his aviators perched on the tip of his nose, he wasn’t exactly a brand new man. Something about him was different, though, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Even as the two of you had gotten older, you’d always seen him as the goofy kid in the cowboy hat that could make you laugh on the darkest days. Throughout high school and your time at the academy, he’d been the person you confided in about everything, and the only secret you’d ever kept from him was your ever-growing feelings for him. But now, after just over two years apart, he felt more like a stranger than ever before. Nothing had changed, but everything had changed, and you were struggling to figure out how that could be.
‘You want a beer?’ you asked. ‘Sure, but no more shots for you. We gotta be up early and I know if you carry on drinking like that you won’t get out of bed.’ ‘When you’re right, you’re right.’
You got Rooster a beer and a JD and coke for yourself before heading over to the rest of the group. There were a few people whose reputations preceded them but you’d never met in real life, and then there was Phoenix, one of your closest friends from the academy. When she saw you she practically jumped on you and Rooster had to take your drink from your hand so it didn’t spill everywhere.
‘Y/CS!’ ‘Hey,’ you giggled, ‘Phoenix, it’s great to see you too but I can’t breathe.’ ‘Sorry, sorry,’ she relented, ‘how’ve you been? I haven’t seen you since your deployment. When did you get back?’ ‘Couple of months ago,’ you told her, ‘I’ve been in South Carolina.’ ‘You’ve been back months?’ Rooster cut in, ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ ‘You know how it is, Roo,’ you said, ‘you get deployed, come home and your whole life is upside down for a while. By the time you’ve settled back in, weeks have gone by and you still haven’t had a chance to see anyone.’
He nodded, but his hurt was apparent. Hangman sidled up next to you and you’d never been more relieved by his incredibly annoying presence. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, hugging you tight. He was a massive ass, but you’d somehow ended up friends while being stationed together a few years ago. A lot of his bravado was an act, and when he let his guard down he was actually a great person to talk to.
‘Y/N Mitchell,’ he said, ‘Long time no see.’ ‘Can’t say I’m mad about that.’ His usual shit-eating grin was plastered across his face, ‘You and I both know that’s a lie.’ ‘Whatever helps you sleep at night, Seresin.’
Everyone makes small talk for a while and those who have never met before are introduced. You pull a barstool over and sit next to Bob, Phoenix’s new back-seater. She’s the first one to point out the elephant in the room.
‘So anybody know what this ‘special detachment’s’ all about?’ ‘A mission’s a mission,’ Hangman replies, ‘They don’t confront me. What I wanna know is who’s team leader. And which’a ya’ll have what it takes to follow me?’ Hangman winks at Rooster, needling him, ‘Hangman, the only place you’ll ever lead anyone is an early grave.’ Hangman looks up from his next shot and walks over to Rooster until they’re standing face to face. ‘Anyone follows you is just gonna… run outta fuel. But then that’s you all over, ain’t it, Rooster? Snug on your perch, waitin’ for juuuuust the right moment. That never comes.’ Rooster tenses visibly and you grab his arm, ‘Hey, you wanna get another drink? Feel like we’ve got some catching up to do.’
You leave the rest of the group to their game and grab a couple more drinks before heading outside. The Bronco is parked out front looking prettier than ever, paintwork glinting in the late-evening sunlight. If you had a dollar for the amount of late-night drives you and Bradley had taken in that thing, you’d be a billionaire.
You intended to sit at one of the tables outside The Hard Deck, but Rooster had other ideas. You ignored the swarm of butterflies in your stomach when he took your hand and led you down towards the beach and reminded yourself that you had no reason to be nervous; he was your best friend, he didn’t know about your feelings and nothing had changed.
‘I still can’t believe you’ve been back months and you didn’t tell me.’ You cringed, ‘I’m sorry, Bradley. I should’ve called, I know.’ ‘Mav know you’re back?’ Yeah, he’s here too.’
Your father was a touchy conversation subject and you tried to avoid talking about him as much as possible. Once you’d eventually realised that there was no way of convincing Rooster that everything he’d done had come from a place of love and concern, you’d given up trying to keep the peace. It was difficult, letting him fester in his own anger, but it wasn’t your fight. However, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t still holding out hope that things would go back to the way they used to be someday.
‘How’ve you been, anyway?’ you asked, swiftly changing the subject, ‘What’s new in your life?’ ‘The usual. Getting called down here is the most exciting thing that’s happened to me in months.’ You laughed, ‘That can’t be true. What happened to the girl you were dating?’ ‘Molly? Jesus Christ, that was over as quickly as it started. I stopped seeing her not long after you left,’ he sipped his beer, ‘what about you? Meet your future husband while you were away?’ ‘Nope,’ you sighed, ‘starting to think I’m destined to be alone forever.’ ‘What about Hangman?’ Rooster asked, Jake’s callsign sounding like ashes in his mouth.
To call your brief fling with Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin a mistake would have been putting it lightly. You’d been stationed together in Alabama for a little while and he was the only familiar person there so, naturally, you’d gravitated towards him and him to you. After getting to know each other better, one thing had led to another and you’d ended up sleeping together after one too many JD and cokes. That one night had led to another and another until you were pretty much dating, although neither of you had ever mentioned putting any kind of label on whatever it was the two of you had going on. Rooster had been up in arms when he found out, yelling at you down the phone that Jake was a complete and total asshole and that you deserved so much better, leading to the worst - and only - fight you’d ever had.
While getting involved with Jake was definitely a mistake and you didn’t plan on walking down that particular path ever again, you still stood by what you said in his defence: you have to get to know him in order to understand him.
‘You already know that’s over.’
Rooster looked at you and you had to remind yourself to breathe. You’d never wanted to kiss him more in your entire life.
‘I’ve got no idea why we’re here,’ he said, ‘but I’m glad you’re with me, Y/N.’ ‘Me too, Bradley. Me too.’
-
The special detachment, as it turned out, was a suicide mission. There was no other way of putting it. Your dad was immensely proud of you and your accomplishments and had never once doubted your abilities as a pilot, but he wasn’t happy that you were on this particular mission. He wasn’t happy that Rooster was on it either. After your first day of training, you went to dinner with your old man so you could catch up and talk about what you’d be in for over the course of the next couple of weeks. You hadn’t realised just how much you’d missed him until you were sitting in front of him, but part of you wished it was under different circumstances.
‘Surely me being part of the team you’re training goes against some kind of rule,’ you said around a mouthful of steak. ‘The stakes are so high, I think mostly every rule has already gone out the window.’ ‘I haven’t been this scared since I climbed in a cockpit for the first time,’ you admitted, ‘but I’ve also never wanted to be on a mission more.’ Your dad smiled, but there was fear in his eyes, ‘I don’t like that look, Y/N.’ ‘It’s the only one I got, Dad, and I got it from you.’ ‘Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about.’
-
White hot rage blinded you like a fire poker between your eyes. The minute Rooster walked through the doors you were racing up to him. Jake had to grab both of your arms and pull you off him to prevent you from swinging at him.
‘What the fuck was that Bradshaw?!’ you roared, ‘You got a fucking death wish?!’
He ran a hand through his hair, face flushed from the heat and the adrenaline coursing through his veins. You weren’t just angry at him for endangering his life, or your dad’s, for that matter, you were angry because you understood why he’d done it. And you knew that if you were in his shoes and you were up there with something to prove, you’d have done the exact same thing.
‘Can we not do this here?’
You shrugged Jake off and straightened out your flight suit, leading Bradley out of the room. He followed you outside into the blazing heat of the San Diego sun where you preceded to turn around and punch him so hard in the shoulder that he took a step back.
‘Jesus, Y/N,’ he huffed, ‘was that really necessary?’ ‘I don’t know, was nearly killing yourself and my dad really necessary?’ ‘I had it under control!’ You laughed humourlessly,  ‘Yeah, it looked like it.’ ‘I’m not gonna have this fight with you,’ he said matter-of-factly, ‘I’m sorry for scaring you, but you have to understand-’ ‘I do understand!’ you screamed, ‘But just because I understand, doesn’t mean I can’t be pissed as hell!’
He pulled you flush against his chest and you softened immediately, unable to resist the comfort and security that came with one of Bradley’s bear hugs. If you had it your way, you’d stay in his arms like this for the rest of time.
‘You really need to have it out with Mav,’ you mumbled into his flight suit, ‘this is getting beyond ridiculous - it’s dangerous.’ He kissed the top of your head, ‘I know.’
-
You had to admit, dog fight football was a stroke of genius on your dad’s part. It was the perfect way to relieve any tensions between the team and also take everyone’s minds off the upcoming mission. Jake and Bradley - the two team captains - tossed a coin to decide who would pick first, and Jake ended up picking you. You suspected he did it just to get underneath Bradley’s skin, and judging by the set of his jaw as you marched over to Jake, his plan worked.
You also had Payback on your team, and between the two of you, you were carrying the whole game. You didn’t like to toot your own horn but… toot toot.
‘Come on Bradshaw!’ you yelled, smirking devilishly, ‘You really gonna let me kick your ass so spectacularly in front of everyone?!’ ‘You’ve got Payback! It ain’t fair!’ ‘Oh, so you don’t think we could win without him?!’
He was holding one of the balls and was preoccupied with insulting you, so when you ran at him at full force and snatched it right out of his hands, he was too stunned to try and stop you. Hangman and Payback both cheered, but as soon as Bradley refocused he was on your heels, and he had the advantage of extremely long legs.
Just before you could score, he came up behind you and wrapped both of his arms around your middle, lifting you off the ground and throwing you over his shoulder. You were so startled you dropped the ball and unluckily for you, Coyote was right there to pick it up and score another point for their team.
‘Put me down you cheat!’
Rooster was laughing so hard you could feel him shaking with it as he ran. He didn’t stop running until he reached the water and it was up to his waist, and then he dropped you in. It was freezing but actually quite a relief after running around in the sun all afternoon. You came up for air coughing and sputtering to find him doubled over with laughter, and you took the opportunity to drag him back down with you, pushing his head down further under the water. You knew you wouldn’t be able to overpower him long and before you could even comprehend what was happening he had a tight grip on both of your thighs, yanking you back under.
If not for the fact that it all happened so quickly, you would have spent more time revelling in the feeling of his big hands wrapped around the tops of your thighs. Your whole body broke out in goosebumps, and you knew it wasn’t from the chill of the water. When you both resurfaced you were smiling like fools and laughing like two lovesick teenagers, and you never wanted the moment to end.
‘Hey!’ Hangman called out, ‘Are you two still playing or what? I’ve got a game to win!’ With an eye roll, you yelled back: ‘Yeah we’re still playing, you couldn’t win without me anyway!’
Somehow, Rooster’s sunglasses had remained on his face throughout the entire fiasco, and you reached out and gently slid them off. He blinked against the sunlight and watched in awe as you put them on.
‘Did I say you could wear those?’ he asked. ‘Did I ask your permission?’
The two of you made your way back towards the rest of the squad, and it looked like your team was back in the lead. A sly remark about Rooster’s sabotage failing was on the tip of your tongue, but then he put his hand on your waist and pulled you into his side, ruffling the top of your head affectionately. The skin-on-skin contact was enough to drive you insane, and your words died on your lips.
‘Keep them,’ he murmured, ‘they look better on you anyway.’
-
When the mission got moved up, any calmness you felt dissipated like water on the hot asphalt of a runway. Your dad was now team leader and you had mixed feelings about it. You’d spent your whole life fearing for him, but knowing he was going on this mission really took the cake. And then there was the small issue of you being his kid, which would undoubtedly cloud his judgement when it came to selecting the rest of his team. For one, the chances of him even wanting you on the mission were slim to none, but then there was the worry that if he chose you, it would be seen as favouritism.
The final day of training was over and you’d been told to go and get some rest before tomorrow, and despite your exhaustion, you knew that if you were to lay down in your bunk now sleep wouldn’t come. It was one of those rare moments where the sky over Fightertown was empty and as a result, an eerie quiet had settled over the base. You were still in full flight gear - minus your helmet - sitting on the ground in the shade provided by the wing of your F/A-18. Before settling in for the night you still had to find time to shower, get something to eat and see your dad, but you were paralysed.
You dreaded to think how long you would’ve sat there if Rooster hadn’t suddenly materialised. He sat down opposite, stretching his long legs out so they were on either side of you.
‘What are you still doing out here?’ he asked gently, ‘You feeling okay?’
You were fiddling with your dog tags, a nervous tic you’d picked up in the academy, and Rooster never failed to notice. Looking into your eyes earnestly, he took both of your hands in his.
‘Talk to me, Y/CS.’ You sighed deeply, ‘I’ve never been this nervous about a mission before. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.’ ‘This is the highest-stakes mission either of us has ever gone on in our careers. I would be worrying if you weren’t nervous.’ ‘Yeah, but you know me, Roo. I don’t do nerves.’ ‘You think I’m not shitting my pants at the thought of having to fly tomorrow?’ You laughed despite the lump in the base of your throat, ‘You hide it better than me, then.’ ‘You can’t keep anything off your face, Y/N. I always know what you’re feeling.’ ‘You do?’
Your heart dropped at the thought of him being able to read you so well, but in hindsight, you should have known. You’d literally been destined to be best friends since before you were born, since your dads stayed up late one night talking about their futures, wondering if they’d have kids and how well they’d get along. As far as you knew, he’d never kept anything from you, and you’d only ever kept one thing from him. You lived your life at the same pace, shared the same moral compass and wanted all the same things. You finished each other’s sentences and could have secret conversations through facial expressions, without even having to speak. If he called, you answered. If he needed you, you ran to him, and vice versa.
You didn’t need him to confirm your worst fear: he knew you were in love with him. There was no doubt in your mind and you were a fool not to have seen it sooner.
As though he’d read your mind and sensed the worsening of your anxiety, he changed the subject.
‘What do you say we go and grab a bite to eat?’ ‘Like a last supper?’ Bradley laughed, ‘You can be really morbid sometimes, you know that?’
-
‘It’s been an honour flying with you,’ your dad said, ‘each one of you represents the best of the best. This is a very specific mission. My choice is a reflection of that, and nothing more.’ ‘Choose your two Foxtrot teams.’ Cyclone told him.
You fought the urge to vomit down your flight suit.
‘Phoenix and Bob. Y/CS and Payback.’
You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
‘And your wingman.’
The tension in the air was palpable. A bead of sweat rolled down the back of your neck.
‘Rooster.’
You could feel Bradley’s eyes on you, but judging by the unpleasant feeling that had overcome you, turning around to face him wouldn’t be a smart idea. For one, he more than likely looked just as nauseous as you and seeing him like that would only cause your anxiety to skyrocket. Secondly, he was the one person you could be completely vulnerable in front of and since it was already taking every ounce of your strength not to cry, it was probably best not to engage.
For the next hour, the seconds passed you by like cars on a highway. You listened to Warlock explain the mission for the final time, but his words went in one ear and came out the other. You stayed at Payback’s side up until it was time to go, but just as you were heading out to the flight deck, your dad pulled you aside for the conversation you’d been anticipating since he said your name.
His expression was, as ever, unreadable and you decided that it was probably a good thing that you didn’t know exactly what he was feeling in that moment. If Maverick was nervous, then you really had something to worry about.
He pulled you close and squeezed you tight, and you let out a single, strangled sob.
‘I know you can do this.’ ‘Me too,’ you were clinging onto him for dear life, ‘but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified.’ ‘If I didn’t believe in you completely, I wouldn’t have chosen you.’ ‘I know, Dad.’ ‘I love you, Y/N.’ ‘I love you too. I’ll see you when we get back.’
He kissed the top of your head before letting you go and you headed out to the flight deck together. Payback was already waiting for you, but it seemed as though there was one more conversation to be had. Maverick patted Rooster on the back as he passed, throwing one final glance back at the two of you. All you could do was remind yourself over and over again that you’d be seeing him later and that you’d be going for steaks at your favourite diner back in San Diego before you knew it.
You could tell Rooster didn’t know what to say but it didn’t matter. You already knew, because you were thinking all the same things.
‘When we get home, I have some things I wanna talk to you about.’
He reached out to touch your cheek and you leaned into his hand, almost nuzzling his palm with the side of your face. Hugging him, you decided, would be too final. It would feel like a goodbye, and this wasn’t a goodbye, it was simply ‘see you later.’
‘There are some things I want to talk to you about as well,’ you smiled sheepishly, ‘but if you can read me as well as you say, you already know that.’ ‘Yeah, I know.’ ‘Fly safe, Roo.’ ‘Give ‘em hell, Y/CS.’
-
It wasn’t humanely possible to count how many times you’d flown. It was as natural as breathing oxygen, almost a second thought at this point. Getting into the cockpit of a fighter plane felt more like coming home than walking through the front door of the house you grew up in with your dad.
But nothing could have prepared you for that mission.
And nothing could have prepared you for the immense feeling of sheer panic and terror when your dad was hit. It was as though the bottom of your plane had dropped out and you were in freefall. If that wasn’t horrific enough, Rooster had gone after him. This paired with the chaos of the dogfight was traumatising enough that you’d forgotten how to breathe and what you were supposed to be doing. You had absolutely no idea how Payback managed to talk you down from going after both of them, but he did, as well as calming you down enough so you could fly back to the aircraft carrier.
You weren’t in the habit of being overly emotional in front of anyone who wasn’t Bradley or your father, but when you climbed out of the cockpit and Phoenix was already waiting for you, arms open, you collapsed onto her and broke down. You’d been completely inconsolable up until you got word of Rooster’s signal in an unidentified F-14.
Surprisingly, the relief came after cursing yourself for ever believing that your father could be bested by anyone. At this point, you were almost entirely sure that he was immortal. And as for Bradley, he was much stronger than everyone else realised. He gave Maverick a run for his money, and that was saying something. Phoenix was the only reason you hadn’t collapsed onto the ground when you realised they were okay and coming home, with the help of Hangman, of course. In the back of your mind, you were wondering how long it was going to take to hear the end of it from Jake.
And there you were on the flight deck with Phoenix’s arm around your shoulder and Payback’s around your waist, watching your dad and your best friend make the rockiest landing you’d ever seen. It felt as though all your internal organs were in your throat as you watched the net get thrown out, ready to catch the incoming aircraft and stop it from going overboard. The sound was near-deafening but you hardly noticed with the rushing blood in your ears. As soon as that plane stopped moving, you tore away from Phoenix and Payback and made a beeline towards the F-14, safety concerns be damned.
Your dad climbed out first, somehow steady on his feet despite what he’d just been through. But that was Mav all over, wasn’t it? He didn’t so much as wobble until you threw yourself at him.
‘Dad!’ you shrieked, ‘Are you okay? Are you hurt?’
He held you with the strength of someone who had a newfound value for their own life. He cradled the back of your head with one hand and stroked your hair like he used to when you were small.
‘I’m okay, are you okay?’ ‘You’re seriously asking me that?’ He laughed breathlessly, ‘I’m okay now.’ You squeezed him tighter than ever before, ‘I love you, Dad. I love you so much.’ ‘I love you too,’ he replied, releasing you reluctantly, ‘and I want you to know how proud I am of you for pulling that off.’ ‘It’s in my blood.’ He put his hands on either side of your face and leaned in to kiss your forehead, ‘I think you should go and speak to Rooster,’ he whispered, ‘we’ll talk more afterwards, okay?’
At the mention of Rooster, all the wind was knocked out of you. All you could do was nod at your father before he headed over to the rest of the squad, leaving you alone in front of the battered F-14. Rooster had jumped out right after your dad, but he’d given the two of you some space. You locked eyes like they do in the movies, but this wasn’t a movie. The world didn’t tilt on its axis or stop turning altogether; it was more like the two of you were the only ones in it that actually mattered. Everyone around you might as well have been frozen in time.
He was taking long strides towards you, but he couldn’t get to you quick enough so you ran to meet him halfway, not stopping until your face was mere millimetres away from his. He was filthy, covered in blood, and sweat and God only knew what else, but you were blinded by the light behind his eyes. You’d always been totally mesmerised by him, but this was something else entirely. It was suddenly very apparent to you that you would do anything this man asked of you, follow him down to the eye of any storm, love him until you took your final breath.
‘Y/N-’ ‘Don’t say anything,’ you interjected, ‘I already know what you’re gonna say, and I don’t wanna waste any more time.’
And before he could utter another word, you pressed your lips to his. The kiss started out soft but then he ran his fingers through your hair and somehow managed to pull your face even closer, deepening the kiss. He ran his tongue along your lips and you parted them for him, finally tasting him the way you’d wanted to for as long as you could remember. Your veins were thrumming with so much electricity you thought your head might explode. When you eventually parted, the space between you was too much for you to bear (you never wanted there to be any space between you and Bradley ever again) so you looped your arms around his neck just like you always did when you hugged him. His face was full of so much adoration, anyone would think you’d hung the bloody moon in the sky.
‘Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that?’ he asked. ‘If it’s anywhere near as long as me, we’re going to be kicking ourselves.’ He kissed the tip of your nose and you damn-near melted, ‘I don’t want to go another day without kissing you like that.’ ‘Neither do I.’
You’d forgotten that the rest of your squad was standing a few feet away, waiting to celebrate with you. When you turned around, they were all cheering for you and Rooster and you could just about make out Phoenix’s ‘finally’ over the sound of Payback’s hoots. You knew you had to go over there and that there would be plenty of time to be alone when you got back to San Diego, but you couldn’t wait until then to tell Bradley how you felt about him. If he hadn’t already guessed.
You had to stand on tip toes to reach his ear, where you whispered: ‘I love you, Bradley Bradshaw. To the moon and back again.’ You felt him shiver beneath your touch. ‘I love you too, Y/N.’
724 notes · View notes
mrspasser · 6 days
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I saw you on the train - Sterek Fanfic
Sterek fanfiction, shamelessly based on this Tumblr post by @tsaiko. (OP, please let me know if I overstepped!) This is also on A03.
I saw you on the train
Derek gets on the subway after work, mentally bracing himself for having to deal with people because he didn’t charge his phone last night. Or he did, but his pup chewed through his charger cable and he frankly didn’t notice the nearly empty battery until he was already at the office. Any other day he loves his old brick of a phone, but today it was a bit of a bother that nobody had a charger that he could borrow. Ergo, he has no music to drone out the conversations of the other passengers.
He makes his way a little down the train car and sits down in an open seat. Across the aisle and one seat down are two men, mid to late twenties. They’re having one of those whisper-shout conversations with each other, where the words at the end of each sentence get louder with their anger, before they remind themselves that they are in public and go back to furious whispering. Derek can tell they are trying to be quiet, but emotions are high. Things are tense between them, it’s obvious within a few minutes of involuntary eavesdropping.
He knows he should try to ignore them, but it’s pretty hard to do. They’re in Derek’s direct line of sight and one of them has the most mesmerising whiskey coloured eyes he has ever seen. Right now, the lines around the young man’s eyes are hard and stressed, yet Derek can imagine the twinkle that would be there when he’s in better spirits. It fits the slight uptick of his nose. Somehow he just knows the guy can be a nuisance in all the best ways. He has an expressive face, which makes him far more interesting to Derek than his more generically handsome partner, who has neatly styled brown hair and blue eyes.
It’s an easy guess that the two of them are in a relationship, even though the expected easy chemistry is missing. But there aren’t many people that would be fighting in public, except when they’re in a close, intimate relationship. It’s a bit odd that they chose to have a discussion about the future of their relationship on the subway during rush hour, but whatever, they probably had a head of steam up on this topic. 
It's a relationship drama that doesn’t involve Derek, yet he’s kind of forced to listen to it as one of the few people without headphones in the direct vicinity. There’s an older woman that glances curiously in the direction of the two men every now and then, but she’s reading a travel guide in a language that Derek can’t place, so chances are her English isn’t good enough to know what the two are talking about. 
The gist of their discussion is that the one with the blue eyes wants to move forward with their relationship, maybe move in together, while Whiskey Eyes wants to slow down. Suddenly, Mr. Generic breaks in with a story about how his mom hates the city, but she moved to New York to stay with his dad and has lived there for twenty years now. And then he actually says the words: “Because relationships are about sacrifices.”
Whiskey Eyes looks like he wants to argue that point - which Derek can understand - yet he decides to follow his boyfriend’s reasoning. “And what have you sacrificed for our relationship?”
The barely hidden sarcasm in the question is apparently lost on Mr. Generic, because he has the audacity to come up with something or other he missed out on because he went with his boyfriend to a wedding. “We flew all the way back to California for your step brother’s wedding. I even had to sleep on the floor of your childhood bedroom!”
Like Derek, Whiskey Eyes is totally unimpressed with that answer and even rolls his eyes. Of course, his boyfriend doesn’t like that and their whispered argument continues. Derek can’t exactly hear what they’re saying, though it’s apparent that things aren’t getting better. Then, in a voice clear as day, Whiskey Eyes asks: “Name one thing I’m interested in.”
Mr. Generic freezes. He does a pretty decent impression of a store mannequin, with the vacant expression and the empty eyes. Derek can almost hear the dial tone coming from his brain. It’s clear that he can’t come up with a single thing that his boyfriend likes. On top of that, he looks confused as to why he’s even asked that question.
Things are quiet after that. The boyfriend tries to talk to Whiskey Eyes a couple of times, but he ignores him and just stares straight ahead. There’s a grim expression on his face, his jaws clenched. Still, the boyfriend doesn’t seem to understand the trouble he got himself in. 
The train pulls up at the station, Derek’s stop, and Whiskey Eyes gets up. “Baby?” Mr. Generic frowns at his partner. “This isn’t our stop.”
Whiskey Eyes gives him a cold glance. “It’s my stop now.” The doors open and he walks out. Just fucking walks off and leaves him on the train. 
Derek almost forgets to get off himself, he gets out just before the doors close. The boyfriend comes to his senses too and he jostles roughly past Derek in his hurry to go after his partner. Or ex-partner, probably. Because Derek sincerely doubts he can recover from that. He almost feels bad for the idiot. Or not, since the contents of Derek’s messenger bag go sprawling across the platform because of his rude shoulder check. 
The platform of the small station empties out quickly, leaving Derek to pick up the notes that spilled from their folder. When he looks up, still on one knee and with his papers in hand, he sees the couple from the train. They’re standing halfway between Derek and the exit and he’s just in time to see Whiskey Eyes pull his arm loose from Mr. Generic’s grip. Their voices echo in the empty station.
“We are through, Matt. I should’ve realised before that it wouldn’t work out, this thing between us.” Whiskey Eyes gestures angrily between them. “If there ever was a thing, because I’m starting to think I was the only one who was really invested.” 
Mr. Generic - Matt - scoffs. “You’re overreacting. And for what? Just because I couldn’t remember the name of your favourite movie from the top of my head? It’s Star Track, or something.”
“Star Trek,” Whiskey Eyes corrects, emphasising the last word. “And my favourite is Star Wars, not Star Trek.” He looks like he’s completely done with his ex-boyfriend’s bullshit. “Good bye, Matt. I’ll ask Lydia to pick up my stuff from your place later. Don’t follow me please.” He turns on his heel and walks to the stairs. 
“Baby…” The now definitely ex-boyfriend tries to keep up with him, but he’s quickly shot down.
“Don’t follow me.” The words are cold and clipped, making the ex-boyfriend stop in his tracks and just watch Whiskey Eyes disappear up the stairs.
Derek briefly makes eye contact with the asshole ex-boyfriend as he too makes his way to the exit. The man ignores him, mumbling something about ‘stupid nerd shit’ as he fumbles his phone from his pocket and simultaneously checks the board for the next train.
Yeah, Derek doesn’t feel sorry for him.
He does feel sorry for the whiskey eyed young man he finds standing forlornly just outside the exit of the train station. The guy just looks so lost that Derek can’t help but go up to him. “Are you okay?” he asks, startling the other.
“What? Oh, yeah, yeah, I’m okay,” Whiskey Eyes hurries to say. Then he looks around him and huffs a small, sad laugh. “Actually, I’m not. I don’t have a clue where I am and I just realised that I left my keys at home and my roommate won’t be home until late tonight.” 
“Shitty day, huh?” Derek remarks, showing him a sympathetic smile. 
“You can say that again,” is the blunt answer. It sounds almost rude, though it’s followed by a rueful smile. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t… I mean, I didn’t want to…” Derek isn’t really sure what he’s apologising for and neither seems he. “Sorry. Again. You caught me at a bad time. I just broke up with my… Well, my ex-boyfriend now.”
“I know,” Derek answers and he winces, because it’s clear he was listening in to things that were none of his business. “I mean,” he tries to course correct, “I couldn’t help but overhear. I was on the train too.” 
“You were?” Whiskey Eyes blushes a delicious shade of red. “Fuck. That’s embarrassing.” 
“Nah.” Derek shrugs. “If anything, he’s the one who should be ashamed. Like, who doesn’t know Star Trek apart from Star Wars?”
“I know, right?” He’s still blushing, but it goes well with his smile. 
Derek usually isn’t this forward with strangers, but right now he feels like taking a chance. He could be mistaken, but he doesn’t think he is, not with the shy way Whiskey Eyes is rubbing the back of his neck. So he asks: “Would you like to get something to eat? I’m on my way home and I was planning to get some take out, but if you want, we can go grab a bite together?” 
“Uh, sure!” Whiskey Eyes is only a bit taken aback by his question and seems eager to distract himself from the situation from earlier. “Yeah, why not? I have to wait until my roommate gets home anyway.” Then he holds out his hand. “I’m Stiles, by the way.” 
“Derek.” He takes his hand and is pleased to find it warm and firm. “How do you feel about Thai food?” 
They settle down in the window seat of the small Thai place a block or so from Derek’s home. Stiles declares it the best Tom Kha Kai he has ever had and they discover that they’re born in the same county in California. Derek’s family moved out when he was about twelve years old, yet Stiles’ father still lives there. And so does his recently married step brother.
Conversation flows easily and Derek is happy to discover that Stiles indeed has a very appealing sparkle in his eyes when he’s amused. 
Four months later, they kiss for the first time. Another four months later he finds himself lying on a thin camping mattress on the floor of Stiles’ childhood bedroom. There’s a large Star Wars poster above the bed, with the letters of the opening crawl. Glow in the dark stars that have long lost their shine dot the ceiling. 
A little above him, Stiles rolls so he can look down over the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry my bed is so tiny,” he whispers. “Are you sure you’re okay down there? We can switch!”
Derek catches the hand Stiles extends to him and presses his lips to the knuckles. “I’m fine, sweetheart. It’s just for a couple of nights anyway.”
Stiles smiles fondly at him. “Okay, if you’re sure.” 
“I’m sure,” Derek nods. He presses another kiss to the back of Stiles’ hand. “Now go to sleep, you’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
Stiles yawns and nods. As only son and best man he’s invested in making his father’s wedding day a success. “You really don’t think he’d let me walk him down the aisle?” 
Derek chuckles quietly. They’ve been over this before. “Just leave that part to Scott and his mom. Don’t steal their thunder.” 
“Right.” Stiles caresses the side of Derek’s face one last time and then tucks his arm back underneath his blanket. “Good night, Der. Love you.” 
“I love you too. Good night.”
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middlingmay · 12 days
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Gale Cleven never learned to flirt
And I have some HCs about that and how it came to bite him in the ass.
Here, have 2K+ words of the Buckies being an absolute mess.
Gale managed to reach his mid-twenties without ever flirting.
He and Marge had been inseparable since they were kids. Being together was second nature, so by the time their teenage years hit, the awkward rituals of their classmates trying to catch some guy or girl’s attention just didn't apply. Gale simply told Marge whatever he thought and felt. If it never strayed into the territory their classmates were so eager to dive into head (or pelvis) first; if it never sounded like the cheesy lines boys used to ease past a skirt, then that’s because he was too much of a gentleman. Everyone knew it. Marge’s dad never batted so much as an eye when she spent time with Gale, because he was such a good boy.
Really, that should have been the biggest clue among many before he signed up.
But then he did sign up, and he met John Clarence “Bucky” Egan, who flirted with everyone and everything.
No, really—everything.
One night after one too many beers, John was leaning against a coat rack, regaling Gale with some story or other. He gave a particularly enthusiastic wave of an arm, and nearly sent it toppling over, and him with it. But John's reflexes were still good even three sheets to the wind. He caught it before it hit the ground, set it up right and said, “Sorry, doll. I’m normally a gentleman. I’ll show you, sometime.”
It was the first time Gale laughed until he cried.
Gale had been flirted with plenty, of course. Others back home had batted eyelashes at him and sidled up to him and placed fleeting, coy touches in innocent places.
John did absolutely none of that.
He drawled and called Gale doll, sweetheart, dilly and beau. He’d look Gale in the eye whilst talking to someone else entirely and say, “My guy, Buck, here…”
He pressed their foreheads together and grabbed Gale's thighs tight and put an arm over the back of Gale's chair.
He’d chuck Gale's chin and press hands firm into the small of Gale's back, around the curve of his hip, into the dips of his waist and that was usually followed by a quick, deliberate clench of his sizeable hands.
John outright called him gorgeous, “a real heartbreaker”, and the others would laugh but that was always one of the few times John didn’t join in.
He watched Gale’s training and his flights like a hawk, bugging others over the radio: “Where’s Buck?” He’d bugged those in the tower so much, that he nearly got himself banned.
John sang love songs - badly - and smirked at Buck the whole time.
Finally, in the after, when they’d left Wyoming and Wisconsin behind for good, John had stepped up behind Gale in the kitchen in the house they shared and reached forward. He placed a whisky glass of apple juice on the counter and came round to Gale’s side. He leaned his forearms on the counter and looked up at Gale through tumbling curls he’d been letting grow a bit and said,
“Lookin’ awful lonely there, doll. What’s a guy gotta do to be your fella?”
And apparently Gale was easy, because he downed the apple juice to wet his parched throat and lips and threw his arms around John’s neck and kissed him with a fire he hadn't felt this side of a plane.
He threw the rest of himself at John, too, who caught him easy and hoisted him up on the counter. He pulled Gale's hips forward by the belt loops and ground his own hips up against him just as his tongue slid home dragged and teased out the gaps and moans Gale couldn’t control—
That afternoon, evening and night had been incredible. But, if Gale thought finally getting what they had been stepping towards for all these years would have taken some of the pressure off, he was dead wrong. He craved more.
Only, he had no idea how to go about getting it.
He wasn’t like John. Never had been. Flirting and being so damn bold didn’t come easy to Gale. Truth be told, he’d never has a reason to flirt before. And for the first time in his life, John was being absolutely no help.
If Gale didn’t know him any better, he would have said he was being shy.
But ain’t no man who could do those kinds of things with his tongue got any business being shy.
And Gale knew John wanted it, wanted him, just as badly. He caught the heated looks; heard the aborted gasps when Gale did something - anything - that showed off his physique (and his brain, he’d later discover). Christ, he felt it every time he woke up before John in the morning.
But it didn’t seem fair to always leave it to John. John had done the bulk of the legwork throughout their whole relationship, even before they finally figured it out. It was Gale’s turn.
So, he started easy.
The next morning that he woke first, the heavy weight of John at his back, he buried his smiling, blushing face in the pillow and rocked back into Bucky’s hardness. He did it harder than he expected, and Bucky woke with a groan pulled from the depths of him and grabbed Gale and pulled.
Gale revelled in his easy and rapid success and coyly teased, “John. You woke me up with that thing.”
And John abruptly released him, full of apologies and sweet kisses to his shoulders before he toddled off to the bathroom, leaving Gale painfully disappointed.
Disappointed, but not deterred. His next idea involved Bucky’s favourite hobby: lookin’ at Buck. There were horses stabled in a field nearby, and Gale had permission from the owners to take them out for some exercise anytime he wanted.
John had never been, but agreed readily enough when Gale asked him to come along.
Gale made sure to wear his tighter pants, and when they got there stripped off his shirt so he was left in only his tank, and mounted a horse called, of all things, Major.
Gale didn't go overboard. He was still workin’ an animal that demanded respect and care. But he made sure to show Bucky the flex of his thighs, the roll of his hips, the strength in him, staying in the saddle when Major wanted to jump.
He got a little lost in it and wasn’t sure how long it had been. But when he looked up, John was gone.
He found him back at the house, stumbling down the stairs red-cheeked, glassy-eyed and a little breathless. And Gale knew. He knew that look; had seen that look so many damn times since they were cadets in basic.
He looked at John with such vicious fury, that he’d gone and done that without him, that John had turned tail and given him a wide berth for the rest of the day.
Gale was going to pull out every damn hair on his head. He’d tried everything he could think of: pressing up against Bucky whenever he moved past; biting his lips like he knew John loved. He even rubbed Coppertone on John’s shoulders and back when he was out doing yard work in the heat one day. But, when Bucky had turned to him and rasped a husky, “Thank you”, Gale got so worried that John was dehydrated, he’d rushed back into the kitchen to fetch him a glass of water and glowered at him until he drank it all, before fetching him another one.
One day, Gale had had enough and decided to take a leaf out of John’s book. He was gonna flirt with that man like he’d seen John do a dozen times before, even if it made him feel like the stupidest man alive.
He allowed himself a small whisky for courage. In return for John dramatically reducing his alcohol intake, Gale sometimes, rarely, let himself indulged and shared a glass with John.
He downed this one in one go and headed into the living room where John was trying to pick a record.
Gale sidled up to him, placed his arms around his waist and said, “Hi darlin’. Can I buy you a drink?”
John’s eyes crinkled, he smiled so wide, and leaned back into Gale's arms. “Oh, I dunno. My ma warned me about guys like you.”
Gale thrummed with excitement that John was playing along, finally, finally getting the damn hint. He let his hands move from John’s hips to the spot on his belly, just above the waistband. His fingers tickled and traced along the hem. “Guys like me?”
“Mhmm. Y’just wanna get me outta my skirt.”
Gale's breath hitched. He moved the palm of one hand to John’s thigh. Heavy and slow, he stroked it up and up, letting John feel the drag of each finger. “I think you’d look good outta your skirt,” he mumbled with a nip to John's ear. He stilled his hand on John’s upper thigh and with one finger, drew a teasing line across the expansive width of it. “Maybe keep the stockings on, though.”
John choked on a laugh, on thrilled disbelief, and Gale grinned into his neck and let John turn in his arms.
And the best part, Gale quickly decided, was that for the first time ever, he managed to make John blush—at the mention of women’s stockings no less, which he had much more experience in than Gale.
Gale rejoiced as John careened forward, tongue slipping straight into Gale’s panting, waiting mouth, and Gale whimpered in the dizzying satisfaction of it as they fucked their tongues into each other and their bodies writhed standing there, in a promise of what was to come.
But then, John pulled away. Gale watched him suck on his own tongue, like he was savouring the taste of something, before clarity and realisation descend over John’s face.
“Ah,” he said. “That make sense.”
Gale frowned, even as John drew him in close and pressed their foreheads together so softly and asked, “Wanna go to bed?”
Gale could have crowed. “Mhmm. Yeah. Yes.”
John brushed a hand through Gale’s hair. “Yeah. Lets get you all tucked in, before you wake up with a sore head.”
Drunk. John thought he was drunk. And rather than giving Gale what he wanted, he was trying to be a gentleman and send him to bed. But Gale was too frustrated to be endeared by the evidence of John’s goodness. Not tonight. No siree.
He almost screamed and threw his hands up in the air. “Goddamn it, John! I’m not drunk!” He even stamped his foot. “I am trying to fuck you!”
John just stood there dumbstruck while Gale raged.
“I have been trying for days! But you, for the first time in your sorry life, have become as dumb as a bag of rocks! How come a girl used to just have to look at'cha long enough and you were all over her, but I try every trick I got and nothing!”
That jolted John out of his Gale-induced stun. “Tricks? What tricks?!”
“Oh I don't know: how about rubbin' against you like a damn bitch in heat the other morning!”
“You said I woke you up! You haven’t been sleeping good!”
“And showing off with the horses—!"
“That was on purpose?! Buck - I left because I got hard watching you! I didn’t want you to think I was some kind of perv! No one should feel like that around an animal!”
“The I rubbed you down with Coppertone?!”
“I was gonna! I got that one and I was gonna, Buck! I swear to God, but then you made me shotgun water and started yellin’ at me about dehydration!”
Gale had worked himself into a fervour and paced the living room, barely looking at John.
“After that first night, you ain’t come near me like that again. And I know I’m hopeless at this kinda thing, and you got a lot more experience than me. But I don’t want it all to be on you. And Christ, John, I was starting to think you didn’t want—what are you doing?!”
John’s shirt was on the floor and he was using one hand to wrestle his undershirt over his head and the other to unbuckle his belt.
Muffled under the fabric of his shirt Gale heard him say, “You said you wanna fuck,” he finally pulled the shirt over his head and his curls sprung free and wild, “we’re gonna fuck.”
Gale stood with hands on his hips, still in his lecture pose. “Right here?”
John lost the belt and went for the buttons on his pants. “Right here.”
Gale drummed his fingers against his hips and stared as John dropped his pants. “Well…that’s, good.”
John snatched Gale by the belt and dragged him him. “Don't be getting shy on me, now.”
And normally that was exactly the kind of thing that would send all of Gale’s bravado running for the hills, but he’d been so desperate for so long that he pounced on John before he even made the conscious decision, and together they undressed him in record time.
John got him on the floor, somehow, and twisted and flipped them so Gale was on top, and Gale looked at him with one eyebrow arched in breathless judgement. “Really?”
John nodded wide-eyed. “Oh, yeah. Really. I’m serious, Buck. I don’t think I can go near those stables with you again. It’s indecent.”
Gale gave an experimental roll of the hips, and when John keened and bucked underneath him, Gale clenched his thighs and drove him down and brought him back under control easy. So he didn’t see that much difference between the skill this would take and what he used to work Major. But still. After what he’d put him through, John didn’t deserve to have it too easy. “Hm, I don’t know. How long you gonna last like this? You got a lot of making up to do.”
And John looked mortally offended, but he’d learned something about Gale through all of this too, and said, “About a long as you will when you see me in those stockings you’ve been fantasizing about.”
And Gale’s hips jerked without his permissions, and things descended beyond the power of words after that.
Later, as they languished on the living room floor with the throw from the couch tossed over them to ward of the evening chill, John turned to him and said, delighted, “You could just ask me to fuck you, you know. Ever thought of that?”
And Gale smirked and nipped at the finger tracing his cheek. “Don't count on it.”
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wongyuuu · 8 months
Text
the road that leads to you | lc
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pairing: chan x fem!reader genre: fluff word count: 3.6k summary: double dates are bound to go wrong warnings: none
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You kept looking at your phone hoping, wishing, demanding that someone would text you, that something would happen and you would have an excuse to get out of that situation. Anything at all would work, you just wanted a way out.
It could be your mom calling, saying that she needed you home but the truth was that she just thought that it was getting late and you should go home, or so she thinks; you wished that your dad would text you asking to have dinner with him but your dad was never one to take the first step; maybe your professor could email you saying that you did something wrong in your assignment and you had to redo it, a dream you would probably wake up from by falling off your bed.
School was finally over for the semester and you had some time for yourself, or as much as work would possibly let you have. The second your boss heard the words summer break, he was already increasing your work hours. You could only hope that your payment would see the benefits of working extra hours. You could easily hear Chan’s voice in the back of your head saying “He’ll increase your working hours and decrease your pay, that’s more like it”
You welcomed the different stream of thought with open arms until it led you to Chan. He was the entire reason why you were feeling guilty in the first place.
You were on your way to a date with someone who wasn’t Chan, someone who wasn’t your boyfriend. And you weren’t even doing it for yourself. You had no thoughts or intentions to be with anyone other than Chan. You were on your way to a double date that would only benefit the other half, your friend Kira, while said date could only cause your problems.
Since Kira started to work as an intern, almost a year before, all she could talk about was Hansol. How handsome he was, how nice he was, how he could be a complete cutie in a second and change into someone dangerous in a span of a millisecond – her words, not yours. Apparently, it was the best kind of danger. Whatever the hell that meant.
After months of pining over him, your friend finally managed to score a date with her yearlong crush, but she got cold feet at the last minute and somehow you were the one who ended up in an uncomfortable situation. If the occasion was any different you would have helped her without thinking twice about it, it wouldn’t have been the first time you rescued her.
On top of it, like a pretty little bow around the box, Hansol also thought that it was a good idea to have a double date as a first date. And what better place than a bowling alley?
A double date is fine, many people have had them, you just hated the fact that you were the one who had to sit around and watch and your friend and a random guy from her work made the awkward small conversation of a first date.
You had made plans beforehand. It was nothing much, honestly. It included you leaving work the second your shift was over, making a quick stop at the chicken place on your way to the subway station, and head straight to Chan’s place. Unlike you, he had his own apartment so you were always at his place because there you had more privacy than at the dorms.
Let’s stay inside tonight, we can do something else tomorrow if we feel like it. That was your original plan and it sounded so damn good. Cuddling with Chan while it wasn’t too warm to do so almost sounded like a dream.
Yes, you could still go to his place after the date but how could you possibly lie down by his side when you had just gone on a date with someone else? Someone who wasn’t him? You knew very well that if you told him the truth Chan would just laugh it off, saying that you were too good for your own good. He would probably give you that sweet smile of his, the very same one that always melted your heart a little when you saw it, and probably hug you with his lips at the back of your neck until he peacefully went into dreamland.
“Can’t I go home?” you asked Kira.
You already knew her answer, even before she clutched your hand as if it was her lifeline.
“No! I need you here, for moral support”
You rolled your eyes at her and leaned back against the extremely uncomfortable seat.
“I could do that from home, you know? The moral support thing”
It was her turn to roll her eyes at you.
“Oh please…” she drifted off for a second before her eyes went wide on her face and held even tighter to your hand “yn, I’m so, so, so, so sorry for this. I had no idea”
You followed her eyes and soon realized what she was seeing and why she was apologizing. Walking through the door was Hansol but the person walking by his side was the one that really caught your attention. In his usual black hoodie and torn jeans, Chan walked inside, a lopsided grin on his face as his eyes met yours.
The color drained from your face as you looked around trying to desperately find a way out. That couldn’t be happening to you. Why you of all people? Kira looked between you and Chan, a confused look on her face. And you knew why she was so confused: you and Chan were supposed to hate each other.
“Why is he looking at you like that?”
It’s the oldest story in the world. 
From the second the two of you crossed paths you had an instant dislike for each other. As soon you found out that both of you were majoring in the same thing, the dislike became a rivalry that even teachers were aware of. Something that other students didn’t quite comprehend and neither did you or him. 
On your part, it was probably because he had been a jerk by knocking off your books, not on purpose, and saying “you should watch where you go, this is not the fucking mall!” You hated his guts after that, it wasn’t that you expected him to get down and help you, but the least he could say was that he was sorry as he rushed off to wherever he went next. He disliked you back because you made a point of always being a jerk to him right back.
Really, it was something so stupid.
Sometimes, while going out with Kira, you would see him with his friends and he looked like a decent person, and from the things you heard from people who knew him he sounded nice enough but you never managed to overlook that first day.
Until a night out gone wrong, that was.
Kira managed to drag you to a bar on a Friday night because Hansol was there and there was no way she could miss the opportunity to see him. Against your will, and your better judgment, you tagged along. You sat quietly at a table in the corner nursing a drink while everyone around you seemed to be having a blast.
It was one of those days when you just wanted to stay inside and not do anything, the kind of day that binge-watching a random reality show sounded like paradise. Going out, being in a bar with loud music, drunk people, and stupid pickup lines sounded like your own personal hell.
You were on your own for about twenty minutes when someone dragged the chair in front of you and sat down. The words get lost were ready to leave your mouth when you looked at who it was. Chan sat in front of you, beer in hand while he sported his most famous and used look: a white t-shirt and ripped jeans. He smiled at you and his raised his beer before taking a long sip.
“Let’s not do this today, Chan. I’m not in the mood”
Something in the way you said made Chan stop. He was ready to say something, anything at all that came to his mind, any sort of nasty comment that would probably leave you fuming. But as he looked at you he could easily tell that your not in the mood was much different than what you were letting on. Your eyes were barely focused on anything, the drink in front of you still untouched.
“Come with me”
He suddenly stood up and took your hand pulling you up, so you would stand up as well. He got your jacket that hung on the chair, your cell phone, and keys from the table before pulling you out the door. You walked by his side quietly wondering just what he was doing but too tired to ask what was happening. His hand on the small of your back brought you warmth and, strangely, comfort.
Chan pulled the passenger door of his car open and told you to sit. The second your head touched the rest your eyes fell shut. You could easily hear him softly close the door as he walked around and sat behind the wheel.
“I’ll drive around for a little, get some rest”
Anyone else would probably have felt uncomfortable in said situation, anyone else probably wouldn’t have taken his hand, anyone else probably would have never gotten inside that car, anyone else probably wouldn’t have fallen asleep in a stranger’s car. But the thing is that Chan was never a stranger and, even though you didn’t get along very well, you knew that he would never do anything that could harm you in any way. You enjoyed your fights and he wasn’t crazy.
Somehow getting inside Chan’s car and driving around became your thing. At times, during class, you would exchange a look and the next thing you knew you were walking to the parking lot and getting into Chan’s car. He would follow you soon after, a bag of sweets and snacks in his hand. You would take turns driving so both of you could rest, or read over your notes for the exam.
At first, neither of you said anything; it was enough to just stay inside his car driving to nowhere quietly. At times Chan would go as far as hitting the road because it’s quieter here, don’t you think? Soon enough you found yourself looking at him, looking for him. Once when he parked the car and both of you sat on the hood of the car, easy conversation flowing around, you wondered what it would feel like to be kissed by him, what would feel like to have his hand hold yours.
“I want every day to be like this one,” you said quietly.
Something sparkled in his eyes, something that you too felt. When you looked at him that day, it felt like his emotions matched yours, his feelings were the same as yours. You leaned forward, just a hint of what you wanted to happen. If he didn’t feel the same, if he didn’t want the same thing, then you could pass it as you were half asleep. 
But Chan wanted it. He had been meaning to talk to you for a while. When he approached you that day at the bar his only intention was to talk with you. When he took a good look at you, though, he knew that he couldn’t do that and so he waited. He kept waiting for the perfect opportunity and you were finally presenting him with one, one that he wouldn't be stupid to let go.
His lips touched yours ever so lightly, slowly. Your hands moved on their own, wrapping around his neck as he pulled you closer.
Every day after that Chan’s text was the first thing you read in the morning and his voice was the last sound you heard before falling asleep.
On a day when Chan didn’t show up for a class you got worried and it got even worse after he didn’t answer your call or texts – not even your email, though you felt stupid for emailing him. He wasn’t the kind of person who skipped class. He attended religiously, even if his body was begging him to stay home and take the day off.
It took you a lot of courage to walk up to one of his friends and ask for his address. It was hard to understand why you cared so damn much whether or not Chan went to class. And it wasn’t just that. When you weren’t with him you kept thinking of him, thinking about what he could be doing, if he too was thinking about you. It made you feel weird about how you went from hating the mention of his name to constantly thinking of him.
Knocking on his apartment door was almost as hard as asking for his address. No, it was definitely harder. Innumerous wild scenarios went through your mind but none of them even came close to what was happening.
He only opened the door after the second knock. When Chan saw you standing outside his door he almost looked relieved, the smile on his face made you smile back.
“Chan, who is it?” a woman said.
Before you could say anything, Chan pulled you inside and closed the door behind you. Sitting on the couch there was an older couple, their eyes shifted towards you before going back to Chan, a curious look on their faces.
“I’m yn” you waved awkwardly at them “Chan and I have a few of the same classes”
At your words, the woman’s face lit up and she got up to shake your hand.
“Oh, Chan was just telling us about you”
Somehow having his mother, as well as his dad, know about your car rides automatically meant that the two of you were together. When his father mentioned it, neither one of you tried to deny it or correct him because even though those words were never spoken it was something that you saw coming.
Even so, you didn’t tell anyone. You didn’t fight in front of others but you also didn’t interact in any sort of way when there were people around. In class, you still sat far apart but always in each other’s line of view. There was something mysterious and thrilling about not telling everyone. 
That was eight months before. Even after so long you still didn’t tell people. You weren’t going out with Chan just to please someone and the same went for him. Your dating life belonged to you and you only. You didn’t quite understand why you had to tell other people about it.
By choosing to keep a secret you still had to face situations like that. Like your friend trying to set you up with someone because she thought that you were lonely.
“There’s something I should probably tell you,” you said to Kira but it was already too late, the second the words left your mouth Chan and Hansol got closer to you.
While Hansol made an effort to try to talk to you, though his intentions and why he was even there in the first place were very clear, Chan didn’t even look at Kira. He simply sat in front of you, his eyes on you the whole time while you tried to think of something to say, anything that could possibly get you out of the mess you put yourself into but nothing came to mind.
Instead of paying attention to her date, trying to focus on the conversation Hansol was clearly trying to have with her, Kira kept giving you questioning glances and nudging your feet trying to get you to look at her.
“Okay! Someone needs to tell me what is going on, right now!” Kira said hitting the table and shaking the drinks
The game had already been over, you even played twice, and the four of you sat at a burger place next to the bowling alley.
“I also would like to know, since Chan was the one who invited himself over”
At his words, your eyes went wide and you immediately turned to Chan, who had an apologetic look on his face as if he was saying I’m sorry but he was also trying very hard now to smile.
“You are the actual worst, did you know that?” you threw your remaining fries at him “I was feeling bad about coming here today while you had this plotted?”
Chan laughed as he tried to block the fries from falling on his face. He was laughing but it was out of pure nervousness. He knew just how much trouble he was in. He was the only one who knew how long it took him to get you to talk to him again after he said a stupid joke you didn’t think was funny. He should have known that by doing something like that he was getting himself into major problems. He just couldn’t help himself and the face you made when you saw him was priceless and totally worth it.
“Why would you feel bad about going on a date with your boyfriend?” Hansol looked between you and Chan, confused.
“WHAT?” Kira all but screamed.
You wanted to hit your head against the nearest wall and maybe do the same with Chan while you were at it.
“Fine! Do you really want to know? Chan and I have been seeing each other for months now. Since the day we went to the bar because Hansol was there. You left me all alone when I could barely keep my eyes open and this idiot” you point a finger at Chan “helped me. We’ve been stuck to each other ever since”
You forced a smile towards her as you leaned back in your chair. Hansol looked at you like you like you were borderline crazy while Chan looked like he couldn’t be more proud of you. It was the first time you ever talked back at anyone, except Chan.
“That was months ago! As soon as we got back from summer break!” she screamed as she mimicked your actions from a few seconds before. When she ran out of fries she used her hands.
“Okay, that's enough!” Chan pulled you up and away from the table “We don't have to get aggressive”
Kira scoffed at him but didn't make a move to leave her seat on the table.
“Would you rather for me to hit you?”
Hansol sighed and he took the last sip of his soda.
“How about we keep our hands to ourselves and call it a night?”
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You still were angry with Chan and he was well aware of it, you got in the car with him and let yourself be taken to his place. He didn't try to sweet talk you, he just held your hand as if he was silently apologizing. Maybe you were even a little angrier because just being inside his car with him holding your hand was enough to make you feel less angry at him.
“I'm sorry,” Chan said, his fingers drawing little circles on the back of your hand “I didn't think it would come to that. It's just that I don't understand why we have to keep lying to people"
You should have known that it would come that, that ultimately that was the reason why Chan did something like that in the first place. He was always one to like playing pranks but that one just went too far.
“We're not lying, Chan, we're just living our own lives" he gave you a small smile and looked out of the window “You think that I'm ashamed of being your girlfriend? Of being seen with you?”
For as long as you have known him, or of him, Chan was always one to be surrounded by his friends. It was rare to see him on his own, to not see him talking to anyone. And that was something that you couldn't understand. You weren't a loner, you had friends and people you liked going out with, but you also didn't share your life with those people. You weren't used to letting people know where you were going, what you were doing, and who you were doing it with. In your family no one ever did that, it wasn't something that was nurtured in you. But it's something Chan is used to.
With a sigh, you unbuckle your seatbelt and reached for your phone at the bottom of your purse. You placed a kiss on Chan’s cheeks at the same time that you took a picture with your phone. Chan looked over your shoulder as you quickly uploaded the picture.
“Oh, you tagged me"
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at the picture for a second. You had your eyes closed as your lips touched his cheeks while Chan had the biggest smile on his face. It was a picture he liked, one that he would probably use as his wallpaper.
You pulled his hand down so he would look at you.
“Don't you ever think that I'm embarrassed or ashamed of you, okay? When I say that I love you I'm not saying it to merely inflate your ego, I'm saying it because that's how I feel”
You leaned forward and let your lips linger over his for a moment, enjoying the feeling of having him close to you once again. Being apart from him during the last week of exams had been exhausting for more reasons than one.
“Also, if you try something like this again I'm cutting your balls off"
Chan wiggled his eyebrows at you and grinned.
“Sounds kinky. When can we try that?”
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