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utterlyinevitable · 3 years

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Hurricane (Part 8)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao) Rating: T+ Warning: angst Summary: A hurricane is falling over Boston. Edenbrook has been evacuated and some very different doctor’s end up seeking shelter together.

A/N: The ending is trash. But it’s my trash. We’ve got one more chapter to go and then that’s a wrap on this project!

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Naveen drove the car back to the cabin before parking it on the cobbled drive, the engine shutting off with a quick flick of his key. Still caught in an awkward silence as heavy as the rain clouds above, the trio padded back towards the cabin. Ethan watched Becca out of the corner of his eye, holding a few paces back with Naveen to let her approach the porch first. In the doorway, Sienna was waiting with two bath towels draped over her arms. A wave of relief washed over her petite form as she saw them; her big eyes softening and bottom lip quivering with all the emotions she saved for the worst of outcomes.

“Becca!” Sienna called as she closed the distance between her and Becca, wrapping her soaking wet friend in a hug around a large, plush towel. “Are you okay? What happened?”

For someone who’s life nearly drifted away with the current earlier, Becca seemed strangely quiet and calm. She didn’t even look at Sienna; darkened eyes trained on her peripheral, towards the unrelenting waters. “I’m fine, Si. Just went for a little swim.”

Sienna looked at her with critical eyes, not believing a single word coming out of her friend’s mouth. She would have said something in any other circumstances, but she was too thankful that Becca was breathing at the minute. This conversation would have to wait. She turned her attention to the other rogue swimmer now coming up behind them, handing him the other towel still draped on her arm.

“Ethan, are you okay?” she asked the attending, her trained doctor’s eyes scanning him for obvious injuries.

He took the offered towel gratefully. “Please, there is no need to worry about me.” He wiped his face first then draped the burgundy fabric over his shoulders, shivering as the cold wind caught his wet clothes, “Where’s Jenner?”

Sienna nodded towards the ajar door, her arms still wrapped securely around her best friend. “In with Elijah.”

Ethan nodded and went inside to his dog, sparing one last glance towards a despondent Becca on his way.

With a small, resigned sigh, Sienna turned her full attention back towards her friend and guided her to the door. “Come on, let's get you cleaned up.”

Sienna led Becca inside and up to her room. Elijah didn’t notice the girls as he was in deep conversation with Ethan in the archway to the den. For that, Becca was thankful; they could just slip upstairs and rest.

As soon as the girls reached the threshold of the master suite, Sienna closed the door softly behind them and reached for her friend, her eyes severe now that they were blessed with the privacy they didn’t have earlier. “You okay?” She asked with a concerned hand gripping Becca’s forearm; her tone of voice emitting a firm warning that she would accept the truth and nothing else.

Becca shrugged Sienna off, taking a step back to shed her wet clothes and throwing on her pajamas. Biting her tongue this round, Sienna gathered up the strewn garments into a pile and wrung them out in the bathroom, making a mental note to wash them once the power came back on. Becca didn’t waste a single second before immediately crawling under the covers while Sienna watched with a very careful eye.

Sensing the stare, Becca sighed heavily. “Si, I’m fine. Truly.”

Her friend wasn’t convinced. “That’s what you say, but you were literally being ripped down stream, you could have died.”

“But I didn’t.”

Light pads of sock-clad feet walked to the bed with private determination and sat on the edge of the mattress, her eyes begging. “Talk to me, please.” - a hand reaching for the top of Becca’s thigh - “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

But Becca wasn’t waving, keeping her gaze on the darkwood bedpost in front of her to avoid Sienna’s concerned one. “That I really need to sleep. I’m exhausted.”

“Bec-”

There was a knock at the door, making both ladies tense in place. Sienna reluctantly moved to open it and was met with Dr. Banerji’s warm smile, his medical bag cradled against his hip.

Ever in dire situations like this one, the senior doctor never seemed to run out of positive energy. He stepped in the room and glided closer to the bed, a comforting smile decorating his lips. “I’ve come to take your temperature and listen to your lungs,” he informed them. “And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Becca rolled her eyes, but didn’t argue. She swung her legs off the bed and sat on the edge, letting Naveen inspect her. Thankfully, she only had a few cuts on her hands that were in need of bandaging, most likely inflicted while she fought to hold herself against the current earlier

“How are you feeling?” he asked as he applied ointment and bandages to her palms.

“Tired.”

“As expected,” he nodded. She wasn’t forthcoming, so he made sure to update her on what has been going on downstairs; “Ethan has a gash on his leg. Dr. Greene is stitching him up.” The gossiper in him carefully gauged her reaction while his more romantic side hoped to see something pass along her features, possibly akin to relief, but he was disappointed there was nothing but the tired eyes of a woman who’s been through hell that afternoon.

She felt his critical gaze searching her. The third one silently scrutinizing the last hour; and it made her blood begin to boil.

“I didn’t need rescuing. I know how to combat a riptide. What he did was stupid,” she clarified, indifferent to his comment.

Naveen chuckled and offered her a kind smile, although one that hid a hint of seriousness in it. “We both know exactly why he did it, Becca.”

Becca scoffed and shook her head, looking away.

The older doctor sighed and put away his medical tools. He obviously wasn’t going to get anything out of her tonight, and he’d been around this kind of temperament long enough to know when to resign. It was almost comical just how similar she was to his protégé, especially when it came to their ironclad stubbornness. “You’ve been through a lot today, dear. I’m prescribing you some much-needed rest.”

Becca rolled her eyes.

With a taut smile, Naveen gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder before taking his medical bag and leaving the room.

While Naveen was with Becca, Sienna had excused herself to make some tea. The petite resident was now staring at the kettle, transfixed, but not actually watching the steam spill out into the shadows of night. The worry for her friend still ever present in her mind and the creases on her forehead. In a daze Sienna poured two two mugs full.

She was just setting the kettle back down on the hob when a gruff sound had her jumping out of her trance and turning on the balls of her feet.

“Let me,” Ethan said quietly.

The two shared the same despondent look, though one of them had a deeper reason for it.

Sienna’s eyes expertly roved over him. He’d changed into clean pajamas, his hair wild and partially dry from drying it in a towel. His weight being carried on one side of his body, no doubt from his injury. His eyes were dark, and there were prominent purple circles under his eyes. And his large hand was extended towards her, waiting with all the patience of a dying man.

With a small smile, she hands the mug over without a single reservation.

And Sienna watches intently as Ethan gingerly makes his way through the cabin and up to Becca.

In the few short minutes she was left alone Becca snuggled deeper into the blankets. Rolled onto her side so her back was to the door and her face buried in a pillow begging her to spill everything all over.

Over her tormenting thoughts she recognized the patter of footsteps against the hardwood of the hallway and sniffled all the emotion back. If Sienna saw her crying it’d become a much bigger thing than Becca ever wanted it to be. She’ll save her tears for later.

When the steps grew louder, crossing the threshold, Becca muttered, “You should just sleep here tonight instead of going up and down to check on me.”

“Do you think that’s wise?”

Even in the minimal light of the candle on the dresser Ethan could see her stiffen. Could hear the discontented sigh that escaped her when his words met her ears.

He stood suspended in the doorway, questioning every instinct he thought he knew.

Becca shifted under the sheets, moving to sit up in bed.

“Thought you were Sienna.” Her tone was still and level and wildly indifferent as she chanced a look at him.

“Sorry to disappoint,” he muttered back. Crossing the distance Ethan held out a mug to her; “Are you okay?”

She took the offering, a forced smile on her lips. “Peachy.”

“Becca…”

“I’m fine, Ethan.” She groans, deflating. “What do you want me to say?”

“You can start with why you’ve been upset with me all day.”

Becca couldn’t help the absolutely indecent chortle that erupted from her.

“I’m not upset with you. I’m mad at myself.”

Ethan made a garble akin to Huh?

And that just fueled the fire that’s begun to rage within her the last day and rivals the treacherous storm this hurricane caused.

“Why did you come after me?” She all but spat the accusation. “It was so reckless and stupid. You could have been hurt. You have stitches for Christ’s sake!”

“You could have drowned. I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

The audacity in his unbridled poise had her stirring under the sheets and gripping the mug tighter.

“Superman Complex already belongs to someone else. Why, Ethan.”

It was a standoff between them. Him in his dry clothes - white tee and gray sweatpants, standing at the side of her bed. Becca was shielded by the blankets but still sitting tall and commanding for someone of her stature. He couldn’t read her ever-telling body language in the dim light of the master bedroom. All he could make out was her silhouette, rigid and doing all she could to cloak herself behind an unsuccessful curtain of hair.

Holding onto the sliver of revelation he had earlier, Ethan spoke truthfully.

“Because I care about you. You have such a fulfilling life ahead an-”

It certainly didn’t have the intended impact. For she cut him off with a resoundingly offended;

“Can you stop.”

His darkened azure eyes were wide with panic. “What -”

“I’m sick of these mind games.”

Her tone was flat, and that scared Ethan Ramsey more than anything. It would be better if she was yelling. He found himself wishing she was yelling even if he had no inkling as to what this argument is actually about.

“I know you care about me, Ethan. But is that all this is?”

She finally looked him in his eyes. The darkness of the room complimented the depths of her darkened irises, and he couldn’t see a single emotion in them. All he could see was all of his failures.

“I - I’m in too deep with you. I may have almost drowned this afternoon, but it was nothing compared to this choking feeling of swimming in all this doubt and uncertainty.”

He moved towards her. Placing his mug on the bedside. This close he could just begin to make out the hurt in the creases of her frown.

“Becca,” he reached for her. His hand suspended in midair, waiting for her permission to cup her cheek.

Instead, she looked down at her fingers tracing the Edenbrook logo on the pristine white ceramic mug between her palms.

Ethan waited.

And waited.

Frozen in place until she said something, anything.

“Be honest with me,” the words came out on an exhale. “No one else is around. Just me.” Her voice so frail as she turned her whole form towards him. “Tell me.”

The outstretched fingers on his hand curled inwards. His fist raised -- once, twice punching against an invisible opponent as his inner self weighed all his options.

He could tell her - he could finally be truly honest.

He could do what’s right.

He could lay everything out there and let her take the reins.

More realistically, he could continue to hold onto the values he’d had all his life.

The longer the silence hung between them, and the pattering of the storm echoed throughout the bedroom walls, the more a reality without her became apparent.

Rebecca Lao is a strong woman - he knows this. And Ethan is ever so aware that she won’t wait for him forever. If her stint today told him anything it’d be that it is he who couldn’t survive a life without her.

Every millisecond that passed, every slight turn of her head and stroke of her finger against the mug, he knew he was losing her. And for once, Ethan Ramsey - renowned doctor, known for his belligerent voice and affluent vocabulary - couldn’t find the words.

Just as she let out a disquieting breath, he took the leap. Knees pressed flush against the side of the mattress. Long, deft fingers grazing the quilt at the side of her hip. His eyes never leave her. Becca was looking down as if all hope was lost. As if his silence spoke for him.

It didn’t -

“I want to be with you.”

Becca felt like the air had been stolen from her lungs. How long had she been waiting to hear them? How long has she been hoping Ethan Ramsey would commit to only her with a promise of forever? Far longer than she’d care to admit, that’s for sure.

Ethan watched her lips part, her jaw slacken. Every pretty feature he adored more than life itself stunned stiff.

In true fashion Becca schooled her features as soon as his words rang through the mahogany room. Bitter words formed on her tongue, accompanied by a desolate huff,

“You sure about that?”

Not a single hesitation as Ethan responded, “Yes.”

“You sure have some fucked up way of showing it.” She watched him from the corner of her eye, shifting in his place and a rueful tug at the corners of his mouth.

Ethan kneeled down beside the bed, coming to her level, “I know.”

This is never how Becca imagined getting Ethan Ramsey down on his knees. All those fantasies didn’t join a near death experience or a fight.

His palms spread out on the quilt. All of him itching to touch her. If he could touch her, everything would be okay.

A beat forced itself between them. Ethan staring at his fingers inching towards her above the horrid colored quilt, and Becca looking blankly at the top of his head.

And then she murmured;

“I can’t be with you if you’re going to treat me like shit all the time.”

“It was never my intention. I just want what’s bes-”

“Best for me, I know. But you don’t get to dictate that. It’s my life, I’m a big girl. I can make my own decisions.”

He was listening. He was guilty and listening.

“I want you, Ethan.”

Those words were like music to his ears - to know she really, truly shared the sentiment. His deep blue gaze flickered up to her; staring at her from under long lashes and hanging on to her every word. This was everything they’ve both wanted - a proper admission of devotion. Then why did she look so sad?

“But not if you’re going to keep pulling away from me.”

Ah. There it was. All his faults coming back - his one mistake at abandoning her after she needed him most digging deep.

“I’m sorry. All of this was to protect you. I’ll always, always protect you.”

Becca’s heart skipped a beat at the unbridled conviction in his tone against her better judgment.

“I don’t need a hero, Ethan.” Becca shook her head in kind admonishment. “I want a partner. Someone who will let me make mistakes and just hold me through it at the end of the day.”

A bolt of lightning cracked in the distance. Their stare on one another so strong, devoted, that she couldn’t see through the clear blue of his irises and deep into his soul the moment the fleeting lightness peered in.

“Okay,” was all he said.

He responded quickly and with such fortitude that she couldn’t help but be skeptical.

Becca rose a brow.

Ethan moved closer and grabbed her hand, adding a squeeze.

In a low voice she said, “I want to make the most of the time we have left. If I get a job elsewhere… I don’t want to regret anything.”

His brows pulled together as this little known fact wormed its way into his rationality. “You’re thinking of leaving Edenbrook?” He held onto her hand just a bit tighter.

“I don’t know,” she half shrugged. “If…”

He finished the question for her. “Of course you’ll have a job. The spot on my team is yours.”

“Yeah, I know. But if…” Becca didn’t know how to accurately explain her fears. If they didn’t work out after all this would she still be able to work with him? Would he be able to? What if she received an amazing offer elsewhere. What happens to them if she takes it?

“Can we not think about this right now.”

Taking both her cold hands in his, Ethan simply nodded.

He could feel the scary stirring in the pit of his stomach. Every pang of it subsiding the longer her warmth was within reach. The last of his fears overtaken by the most adorable sound as she stifled a yawn.

Ethan let go of her hand just long enough to brush some strands back from her face. Un-showered and salty from the day’s events her cheek was still soft under his touch. He leaned up to press the lightest of pecks to her forehead.

Ethan was less than a few centimeters away from where she wanted him most. One movement and it could all be right and well. Becca brushed her nose against the stubble of his chin, coaxing him downwards. She could feel his grin against her skin as his stubble marked her nose. Every second he didn’t succumb, the tip grew redder and redder.

Ethan pulled back - too far for a quick descend down to her lips - and Becca almost threw a tempered fist into the mattress. Almost.

He was looking at her with such reverence it made her whole entire body tingle. Like his stares were the hand of Da Vinci trying to capture her image - immortalize it for the rest of time. Trying desperately to paint this to memory - this moment where everything for them seemed to change for the better. This was the moment Ethan Ramsey knew.

Becca was mere inches away. One more movement and she would know - know that he is irrevocably her. One more movement and he’d seal their fate.

Her eyes flickered down to his chapped lips, and this time she didn’t look away. This time there was no enchanting classic playing on the television, just the person before them. This time Ethan was thankful for her focus. He let out the breath he was holding in. Watched her eyelids flutter as the warm gust met her lashes. Leaned in and listened. Listened to the erratic thumping. Thumping of his heart or hers or the hurricane, he didn’t know.

Didn’t care. Couldn’t give a damn about anything other than her.

Their lips met. Softly, tenderly. The shortest, most endearing kiss they’ve ever had. Neither wanting to ruin this with overzealous lust.

They pulled back, unencumbered smiles gracing their features; and then she yawned again.

Light with strange happiness, Ethan gently pressed her back into pillows. Pulled the covers around her to tuck her in.

He kissed her chastely once more. Then pulled away.

Every step he took from her side of the bed had her chiding herself for being so stupid for believing him this time. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.

Ethan moved through the darkness. The raging winds of reality jolted through them, pounding on the expansive windows. Getting louder and more unruly the further he got.

But then he did something so unexpected. So surprisingly unlike the man she thought she knew.

He pulled back the covers of the other side of the bed and slipped in. Ethan shifted closer and closer atop the king sized bed until his arm wrapped around her waist, the other snaking under her neck. Becca welcomed him without a single hesitation or ill thought. This is exactly what she hoped for yesterday.

Ethan had that smile - that one smile reserved only for her - as he dove into the covers with her, never intending to come back up. Their sweet embrace was all the sustenance he needed to survive. In this moment - and all of them to come, he’s sure - he and Becca were the only two people in the universe.

The storm outside was moving miles and miles away.

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A/N: there was meant to be a cute bathtub scene at the end before they went to bed. it required too much effort so it got the axe. oh well! thanks for sticking around <3

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ecoamerica · 15 days

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friggsdc · 3 years

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Title: little delinquent pt iv

part iii | part iv

Warnings: Female!reader (bat!sis), mostly plot with family fluff, AU, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 4600~

Synop: It had Bruce and Dick sharing a look for a moment before the latter spoke up, “It’s not like I’m against continuing to expand the family, but…” he eyed the child you held nervously, “please don’t start bringing home every child you find…” he tilted his head, “he’s bad enough.” Bruce settled a light glare at his first son (that definitely wasn’t what Bruce was thinking), though Dick was stilled by the way your eyes narrowed at him instead.

“His name is Terrence,” that was all you said, brushing past as they were suddenly on guard at the inherited Wayne-scowl on your face.

---

A/N: ee;;;; enjoy me not knowing what this plot is, idk tbh, but it’s fun to write. It’s more plot than fluff, which wasn’t what i meant to write sighs. I’ll probably write companion pieces to this that’s zero plot all fluff. The plot wasn’t meant to be so deep, but I mean, uhm… enjoy papa Bruce and mama Alfred~

---

[bigR] Dad’s upset.

[bigR] He’s talking less than usual, not even grunts.

[bigR] I think he’s ignoring me?

[you] crap

[bigR] Worse, there’s no news.

No news? True, you hadn’t seen the info feeds light up, the networks had been offline all day, but nothing from Tim’s side? If you didn’t hate Luthor before, well…

[you] this is giving me a headache ::dizzy_emoji::

[bigR] No kidding, I think he’s figuring a few things out.

[bigR] Patrol with B, everything’s unlocked, bb @ late.

[you] is typing…

“You sure it’s okay?”

The taller male gave quite the toothy grin, a large hand coming up to pull the awkwardly fitted shirt collar back to center, admiring your new outfit. “You can just bring it back later, besides, I think it’s cuter this way.” After a few hours and an incredibly long phone call between Jason, Tim and yourself, the three of you combined were able to get the suit to come off.

Tim said he still had a lot to go over, but that the laptop was actually incredibly useful. Much of what Tim had been talking (and geeking) about had been lost on Jason and you, too focused on Terry and wrangling the alien suit off.

Jason said he’d be jealous of the strange futuristic-like material if it weren’t for the second skin-like fit, happily poking fun at Nightwing’s taste in suits.

Most of the work was done on Tim’s side since he apparently already had the ability to take control of the suit. It was something you were rather… anxious about, but unlike the manor, Jason’s place had the advantage of no Bruce and no cameras.

So now you sat in the same pair of pants you’d come over in, the only pair of flip-flops he had. They were far too large for you, but your toes would have to hang on till home, and a large t-shirt that fit well enough.

“Muscle up, Buttercup” was written on the front, Superman’s flexed arm between the words.

“Your taste in clothes is…”

“Cheap. Like second-hand cheap.”

“But… why…”

“To spite Bruce? I pay more for job-related injuries than money I actually have, it’s been tempting me to go back to crime, honestly.”

“…you sure that’s not to spite Bruce as well?”

“I mean,” he shrugged, an impish grin on his face as he lightly ruffled the top of your hair, causing you to childishly swat his hand away, “isn’t that what everyone else does? It’s fun, you should try it sometime.”

“Uh-huh…” you were honestly too much of a—

“Daddy’s girl,” he snorted lightly, unimpressed.

Before slipping one of Jason’s unused backpacks on, you stuffed the batsuit in the bottom, and the jacket you arrived in on top. Turning just in time to see him picking up Terrence’s sleeping form with incredible gentleness, you cooed lightly.

“You know, you’re not bad at that,” he looked at you, frowning, ears flushing before his attention went back to the bundle in his arms.

“Not even…” instead of moving to take the child from him, you opted to stand still and just watch the interaction instead, as if a point were being made.

Big boy looked like he was terrified of breaking the child in his arms, like an heirloom British teacup, “You look cute like that, a giant teddy bear and a tiny uh... new bat?” Walking over, he turned his eyes to the side, not a single trace of anger towards the situation in his voice anymore, “don’t get used to it,” he muttered, unsure of himself. “But you could get used to it,” you smiled, taking the giant marshmallow from him, “he’ll be around from now on, you know. You’ll have uncle duties~” Your teasing only increased his rising timidness, “right…”

“Well,” he began, heading to the door once you had everything, “I’m already late for patrol, let’s get you home.”

Alfred had greeted you at the door and mentioned putting on some tea, and you gladly accepted, though not before you went up and changed. With the promise to be back downstairs in a few minutes, he took Terrence from you to ready him for bed. Adorable child was actually quite active, having tired himself out at Jason’s temporary housing.

Quickly, you’d headed to Tim’s room to empty the contents of your bag in his faraday cage, hoping that it was secure enough being in his room. Once you’d locked the safe’s door, you headed out of his room and down the hall to your own. Sorry Jay, but the shoes were uncomfortable, and the shirt kept trying to strangle you more than the shirt of a giant should. Pajamas sounded wonderful right now.

The now empty backpack was tossed to the side near where Duke had left the your clothes from earlier in the day, and a few immediate items for Terrence. You figured everything else was probably in the nursery now, hoping it was all waiting for you in the next few days. The awkward clothes you’d worn over the suit had been tossed on your day clothes, and then Jason’s shirt and shoes were dropped on top.

The shower was quick, and having changed into a fresh pair of pajamas, you suddenly felt sluggish, your shoulders now heavy with tightness. Come to think of it, your thighs also felt rather wobbly, like jelly… but the only strenuous activity you can remember doing in all honesty was… base jumping… was it the wings? It’s all you could honestly come up with. Maybe you weren’t used to such a thing yet, and as you rubbed your shoulders, you headed back downstairs to the sitting room. “Nn…”

“Sore?”

It was still too early for anyone scary to be home right now, so…

You nodded, collapsing on the small sitting couch, Alfred going to stand from his seat to fix you a cup of tea from the tray on the table. “I did a dumb thing today. I’m not certain if I regret it or not.” He handed you the tea plate and cup before returning to his original position on a rather regal looking chair, “I’ve already put the Little Master to bed for the evening. The Young Masters went to bed awhile ago, though I suspect, they are not, actually sleeping.” He gave an amused hum at the thought of Damian and Jon and what they were totally not doing.

He definitely hadn’t noticed when they’d snuck out earlier. Nope, not at all.

It was a long day filled with heightened emotions, anxiety, stress, confusion, and at the end of it, you were just so tired, and Alfred had always been your confidant next to Tim, and—

You tried to keep quiet as you spoke.

“I jumped out of a really tall building. Like… ninety feet up? I’m not certain, I was watching my life flash before my eyes.” He sighed and frowned into his own tea, “Master Bruce has already left for the night, Master Tim is accompanying him, as the boys are… supposed to be here for a night off. I really had hoped you’d grown up to be more intelligent and not as reckless as your brothers.” Or your father, Alfred mused, sipping at his tea, pinky out, the proper macaroni gentlebutler he was.

“I mean, I panicked, I was in a batsuit, I had a lot of intel on me, like, literally stole a laptop and backed up something called Project B (whatever that meant, though you had your suspicions having met Conner), there was a ton of guards outside going from door to door… I don’t have the same muscle mass to fight like my militant brothers, I was scared of what would happen if they caught me, like dad’s reputation?, I may have been overwhelmed by the—”

“—batsuit?” Ah, you looked up from your tea with wide eyes to see him staring, uncertain if the twinkle in his eye was worry or mischief. “Yeah, that. Uhm… Please don’t tell dad,” you sat up straight, gave him your biggest crocodile tears, and were about to clasp your hands together like a beggar before he waved your antics off. “I would not, not unless it endangers your life, Young Miss, you know that. Including young Master Terrence, of course.”

“This afternoon I must ponder over, What you did was, how shall I say, not okay,” he spoke, stern.

He stood to walk over, seating himself next to you while smiling gently, “though I must admit, I am quite curious as to the story behind all of this.” You gave your own small smile as you stared at your tea, “Yeah. I still don’t know all of it yet, myself, but… it’s actually really cool…” The two of you spoke in hushed tones.

Bruce may have been your father, but much like him, you were raised by Alfred, and seeing as you usually weren’t allowed out on the field like the others, your disposition was as Alfred’s was; support. It was something your brothers and father relished in when they had any extra time over the years. You loved to spoil them, and they were readily eager for it.

It was also thanks to Alfred that you’d learned you had a unique knack for espionage.

Your brothers were raised to protect themselves and others, getting to go out nightly on risky (and deadly) vigilantism escapades. More than that, they not only got to be of use to your father, but they were able to grow up around him, their lives dedicated to the same purpose.

To say you were jealous was an understatement, often worrying Dick and Jay at times.

To say you were your father’s daughter and just as like-minded as him was also an understatement. This was something Tim and Damian understood better than your two eldest siblings.

You were determined as heck.

You graduated from avoiding Alfred’s detection to stalking your father and brothers, skills honed even further as you learned how to use their toys and listen in on their coms system. It was your father’s own fault, leaving you alone all the time.

You would never be useless again.

You would never be left behind again.

“So, your brothers are helping you, then? I am glad of that, it means I need not worry as much,” even though Jason and Damian only knew half the truth, it was Tim who knew everything you did. Duke didn’t want to know and apparently Jon’s dad had warned him not to get involved with “bat business,” and Alfred… “If… If Terry’s parents…” how were you supposed to frame this part, exactly? You ere bothered by the truth of it, so... maybe making it sound worse than it was? If that was even possible... “if they were bad people, like really bad people,” as if suddenly remembering the walls had ears, you lowered your head and voice, barely audible for him to hear, “do you think dad would let me keep him?”

The both of you knew that wasn’t the issue, Bruce had no problem with the child staying, but…

There was something about the boy that seemed to be worrying you…

“If there is one thing I take great pleasure and joy in,” Alfred beamed like the proud father he was, “it’s that at least one of you children turned out more like myself than Master Bruce.” No, honestly, he was so glad you weren’t gloom and doom like your father and siblings, “I’m certain you could tame the wildest of beasts.”

His parentage held no ground here, the two of you understood the meaning behind the words, memories of when Damian met you for the first time after arriving at the manor surfacing, “I think you’ll do just fine with the child. I have all the confidence in the world.”

Maybe you were being overly paranoid about the whole situation.

The evening was finished in comfortable companionship between the two of you, and he’d shoo you away to bed long before it was time for the boys to come home.

After cleaning up and assuring himself that at least someone in the manor went to bed properly, he busied himself with the surveillance of the manor.

He made certain you wouldn’t be caught just because of his curiosities.

Through part of the night, you’d begun doing as much research into the relationship between Luthor and CADMUS as you had time for, the past few days having been spent going over only CADMUS information. That was until you got a ping on Luthor’s name written on several specific checks, and gathering as much information available. You looked for key phrases in the news cycle over the past day’s incident, as well as dating back several months. You’d even taken the chip out of your work phone and popped it into the laptop sitting on the bed in front of you, allowing network protocols to take over.

There was only so much the news would give you, so you checked in on security feeds from the area, keywords during phone calls used to see if anyone noticed, satellite intel snapshots, everything. Anything.

The time-sensitive channels still hadn’t opened, no information from other informants was anywhere in the Societies channel logs, not even the time-delayed backlogs.

Someone else was cleaning up.

Early morning, the best time to avoid anyone in the manor who had a night life, also just in time to get breakfast as Alfred made the first batch of the day. Though mostly for himself, he’d generally make extras as you’d often join. Heading down the foyer stairs, Terry’s barely conscious form bundled in your arms, you beelined to the kitchen, the smell your guide. “Ah, good morning Young Miss! I even made some for the Little Master, just in case,” Alfred smiled down at the boy in your arms, holding up a small bowl of minced and steamed veggies.

The kitchen was large for an older-modeled mansion, constantly rebuilt with minimal changes, but still cozy and incredibly sustainable. Between the door to the foyer and the opposite wall, where the door to the dining room was, there was a large table. Several shopping lists, foodstuffs, and cookware took up a good portion, but there as still enough room for a small few people to sit comfortably at once.

You smiled, sitting down in the chair the older male pulled out for you, then pushing you in, food for the child set on the table. You situated Terry in your arms, finding a nice spot to rest his bottom without worry of him slipping off, and reached over to spoon some of his meal to him.

Strangely, he didn’t resist much, yawning in between bites as you had to scoop up what tried to spill out of his mouth, “so, how old might you say he is? I’ve been thinking about it, perhaps about a year?” you nodded as you looked up, agreeing with Alfred as he sat down, food cooking behind him in the meantime. “I think… if not that, maybe a few months younger… he can stand, and seems okay with soft solids… I think you’re right, maybe a year?” his clothing size certainly seemed to think the same, Duke having gone to extreme lengths to get a perfectly fitted wardrobe for the boy. He even included a few different larger sizes for the coming year as well.

“Hm…” Alfred leaned on his crossed arms, rested on the table as he eyed the boy, “I suppose we could begin early development lessons with him, signing especially, but I think he can do more, words, possibly.” In response, Terry sneezed, food spraying all over the spoon and bowl in front of the two of you, his eyes still groggy as he slumped in your hold. “Oh dear,” Alfred hummed in amusement, standing to bring you a small terrycloth towel to clean up.

Terry gave a small grunt as he pushed at the cloth now cleaning his face.

“Gonna… Gonna have to get used to that…” the suddenness surprised you, you knew it was a normal human function, but you just hadn’t… expected it.

“I think there will be a great many things for you to get used to from now on, even I will have to relearn a few things. It’s been… a very long time since an infant was in this home.” He went back to finishing his and your meal, a nostalgic and wistful look masking his face. Bruce had no idea what to do with you when you were an infant handed over to him, and it amused Alfred to this day.

Thinking about it, you looked down at Terry, your chin coming to hover over his head, almost as if you were trying to nuzzle him, loud enough for only him to hear, “…mama. S… Say mama.” The child just tilted his head and cooed at you instead, reaching up to pull at your hair again ohdeargodpleasestop.

Releasing your hair from the child’s grasp and holding both of his hands in yours this time, you tried once more, “mama.”

“Mmba,” he blew a raspberry at you as he slurred his speech, becoming more fascinated with the bubbles he blew than your inquiries. “Mm… bah.” He let out a giggle, popped his lips at you and then smiled, trying, and failing thanks to your hold, to reach for your hair again. After several attempts, he settled for turning slightly, resting his head on your chest as he watched Alfred and all of the very shiny cookware.

You flushed, wanting to beam but also feeling incredibly self-conscious about the situation still, it was honestly a lot to get used to. Frowning in determination at the snuggly bug of a child, you tried a different tactic this time, “ma.” He was still more interested in the food being cooked, however, and you heaved a sigh into his head of hair. “Mma,” well, it was a start, and you repeated your previous chant of mama to him, your own eyes wide with what felt like pride.

Was this how Alfred felt?

“Mmba.” Well, as you said, it was a start. With a sigh, you went back to shoving food in his mouth, though quickly you had to wrangle the spoon from his mouth each time. “Stop… biting it, Terry…” you wondered how Conner had gotten so smart in such a short amount of time, wondering if Terry had still been too young when you took him from the bio labs at CADMUS.

“Ah, good morning Sir,” Alfred greeted, and your head shot up to see your father standing in the doorway, bags under his eyes and a yawn hidden behind the back of his hand. “Good morning, Alfred,” he stared at the older man with a frown, obviously trying not to say something. Instead, he looked at you and the child for a long moment, giving both of you a morning greeting. And even though Terry couldn’t properly respond, he did give Bruce the same challenging look as the last time.

He was looking for something out of the ordinary, however, the only thing in the room that was new was Terry, nothing else seemed to be amiss. But you could tell, looking up at him from the corner of your eyes, head still downturned, he was searching.

“Morning dad…” you tried to be light as you smiled at him, nothing is wrong.

“Daah,” Terry tried imitating, but it was lost in the rest of his babbling as he grabbed the food from the spoon. He was making another mess as he shoved it in his mouth, fingers fiddling around tongue and mushy carrots. Thankfully you still had the terrycloth to wipe at his chubby cheeks.

Bruce’s footsteps were as silent as his entrance, stopping next to you and squatting down, large hand, warm and gentle, landing on Terry’s head as he ruffled his hair, “I’d like to talk to you downstairs soon, okay?” He studied Terry for a moment, eyes as brilliant as his own, though it seemed like Bruce almost enjoyed the small head of hair in his palm. You couldn’t tell beyond the awkward chill in the air, but the two of them were giving each other knowing looks, both challenging, though Bruce couldn’t understand why Terry looked at him that way.

He made to stand up, pulling his hand away before Terry could do any damage, cheeks puffing out in a pout. “There’s something I’d like you to look into,” he spoke as he headed back towards the door, a morning coffee handed to him by Alfred, “oh, and you’re not allowed to leave the grounds for the time being. The tracker seems to be faulty.”

Considering you broke them often over the years, well, yeah, of course it was faulty.

Again.

The smile he gave you before he left was smug and you weren’t completely certain as to why, and it was making you really really nervous, “the League computers picked up something quite interesting yesterday.”

“Uh…” Ah yeah. Well heck.

Yeah, metropolis was both a huge risk AND your last outing, you were glad you took the chance though, even if your stunt escalated the situation. You were now officially on house arrest by the most observant secret-wannabe cop in the world.

Then again, there was no telling exactly what he knew.

He might be bluffing.

“Maaam… ah…” Huh? Did he just… Quickly as if borrowed from the speed force, your thoughts of Bruce and the problems at hand seemed to flee as you beamed at Terry. “Mama?”

“Mamhh.”

[bigR] Was able to give the drive a quick look.

[bigR] I don’t understand villains. I just don’t.

The hell did that mean?

[steph] c u soon <33

Ah, crap.

The table before Bruce had only a few pieces of paper and only two photos. You’d come home nearly a week ago with a new addition to the family, from where he still wasn’t certain. He’d checked and there’d been no missing infant reports that matched up with him, both in looks and location. Tim seemed to be in on it, hiding secrets along with you, and holding back when Bruce would inquire about anything even remotely familiar to the situation. Tim had also been keeping busy with something the past few days, and ever since you’d come home from shopping, he seemed unable to stay still, constantly fidgeting.

Then there was yesterday, when Duke took you out shopping with the boys while Batman had been at the Womb at the League’s watchtower, digging up as much as he could. Which, unfortunately, was just the few scraps of confusing ledes in front of him. The annoying part is how well you avoided the cameras, there were only a few times where he had been able to make you out, the rest he had to guess based on your profile that day.

The subsequent events had started stacking up in a rather annoying fashion. Your tracker’d been broken since you gave everyone a scare a week ago, returning with a child in your arms and something akin to paranoia. Even Tim had been clueless (until he wasn’t), and now even his attitude was giving Bruce pause. It felt more unnerving than bad, something making Bruce’s own stomach knot when he kept coming up with dead ends.

The day you’d gone shopping, the Womb had picked up something the news hadn’t, as the news was calling it nothing more than an accident, and it was that that gave Bruce even more pause. The worst part is that he couldn’t just take a deep dive into the LexCorp building’s system, knowing that much was out of their (or his) hands.

If Cyborg found out that Batman was secretly looking into a non-incident on the League system for family-related business, then he’d never hear the end of it from Superman and the others. He’d have to go out of his way to get into the building, and right now wasn’t the best time to do so, security was increased ten-fold. He’d have to wait it out.

LexCorp wasn’t even reporting it as an incident themselves, but the fact that they were being very stringent about the details, the increase in surveillance, Bruce felt it in his gut; an obvious coverup. The problem was why, there was no way what had happened had been anything short of problematic for Lex, and yet they weren’t filing any kind of paperwork.

They did their best to act as if they didn’t care, but Batman saw all the extra measures, and he also saw the information black hole happening.

LexCorp, no doubt, was scrubbing.

What he had been able to do, however, was gather two snapshots of a black blur that sped out of the building before disappearing into the thick of the city below.

About the same area where Damian’s own tracker took a detour.

“I preferred it when you used to use electrical tape to tape a transceiver blocker to your arm to hide the trackers,” Bruce hadn’t looked up as you approached (and you were dang silent too, even Terry was being chill), “It was much less of a headache.”

“Yeah, but that was when I was a kid. Nothing I do now can hide me from you anymore, the technology is different from back then.”

“Except breaking it.”

“Except that.”

He snorted as you stopped at the table, situating Terry on your hip, and looked down at the photograph that Bruce pushed over to you. It took every bit of training not to give anything away as you picked the photo up and gave it a once-over.

“This is…?” you turned your head to see him with that smug smile from before, tapping the image in your hand with his finger, “this is what I want you to look into.” You would have bristled if you hadn’t known your father better, this was some kind of trap.

“The same day you headed off to Metropolis, intriguingly enough, the LexCorp building had a break-in,” he paused to gather more words, rolling them around on his tongue before swallowing them, I’m worried, and you’re the reason.

“A break-in? I hadn’t heard—”

“No, you wouldn’t have. LexCorp seems to be keeping it from the public knowledge.”

“Then the League computers?”

“Was able to take a few photos from another satellite, these two were the best ones I could find. One of whatever broke in as it took off flying, and another of the same building a few minutes after. No police, no fire crews, nothing.” He was watching your reactions like a hawk, unfortunately you’d played this game so often growing up (learning to lie and stay out of trouble was a skill your brothers and you freaking perfected, even if they got into trouble on purpose), that it was really very easy to just—

“Uhm, but… dad, how? You grounded me, remember? That makes gathering any kind of intel like, y’know, hard.”

The smug smile was back as he pointed at the rather established medical area, the two of you heading over together, “you’re the information broker, I’m sure you can find something useful. It’s not the first time you’ve had to gather information from behind bars, after all,” you really hated how he still felt compelled to remind you of that.

It was once, in a country where no one knew you and where records were shoddy at best.

And on purpose, dangit.

You still weren’t certain how he even found out, besides, he and your brothers had done worse by comparison.

As he began removing the old tracker, you ignored the pain, the lack of anesthetic nothing new to you, too used to it at this point. Not that it was terribly painful. He was precise in skill, second to Alfred, you were too preoccupied with keeping the child still in your lap to notice what he’d been doing prior to your arrival.

All jokes aside, he’d finally gotten ahold of something that could yield actual results.

He looked to the boy again, staring at his familiar features, at his hair, like midnight, “striking how much he looks like us.” You frowned at him.

It was a statement.

The joke wasn’t lost on him.

Or on you.

#tim drake x reader #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #stephanie brown x reader #duke thomas x reader #bat!sis

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sometimes-i-write-4-you · 4 years

Text

Steven Hyde x reader

Butterflies. Terrible.

Trigger warnings: weed (probably badly written cause I don't smoke but I tried), cursing, some angst I guess.

I sat in the basement, watching TV and eating chips. I was in my brothers superman pajama, which I steal from time to time from the laundry. He didn't care until the time Steven saw me wearing it and now he won't stop reminding Eric his pjs fit his baby sister. To be fair, he had it for years, it's just really stretchy, and I have to tie a double not for the pants not to fall. Steven didn't care about the small details tho.

It was quite, which was unusual. The longer I sat there the more it bothered me. Something was off. Why isn't my brother here? Where's his friends? They can't be at the hub, they'd invite me. Sure I was a year younger, but I had weed connections plus, it is my birthday. Wait a minute. It's my birthday. I turned off the tv and went upstairs.

"Oh, honey, why are you still in your pajamas?" My mom asked when you entered the kitchen. "Because only you, dad and Eric are going to see me, and You saw me in my pink faze, these superman pajamas are an upgrade" i replied, taking some water out of the fridge. "We are not the only ones who are going to see you" My mom said, but once she realised what it meant, she hurried up and added "not because i'm throwing you a party, it's just that, um, Steven lives here! he'll see you" she said. "Yeah, Steven already saw me wearing this, and as much as I hate being seen in the same outfit twice I could not care less" I said, and left the kitchen to go to my room. "Wait!" My mom said before I could follow through with my plan. "I need you to go get some sugar from the store. So put on some normal clothes, preferably fancy. Something you'd wear for a party, you know, just so that people can look at you and know you are the birthday girl. A birthday girl, in general" my mom said. "Fine" I sighed, and went upstairs to get ready.

I got to the store, wearing a bottom up with a fun print on it tucked in a Jean skirt. My shoes had a small heel, just enough to a little fancy, yet casual if paired with the right outfit. Now, where's the sugar… I finally found it, and went to the counter.

"Hi, (y/n)" the cashier smiled at me, "happy birthday" he added, taking the sugar from my hands. "Hi Derek" I smiled at him. Derek is my classmate (and my weed connection), who is incredibly hot with his dark hair, and eyes as blue as the sea, but he's as desperate as Fez if not more. "Thanks" I added, just to be nice. "and that'll be 2 dollars, should be 2.50 but, I'll give you a happy birthday discount" he said, "I also forgot to give someone 50 cents back, so..". I laughed, he was charming in his own way. "Well, I'll see you later at your party" he said, waving goodbye. "I fucking knew it" you muttered as you waved him goodbye.

I got back home to find Hyde sitting in the basement, wearing a decent button up. “Yo, Hyde, whatcha doing?” I asked, sitting down next to him. “Watching TV in hopes your mom won’t call me upstairs for your party. I am not going to hang out with a bunch of 17 year olds” he said. “You’re hanging out with me” i said, “and i was 16 until today” i said. “Yeah, but you’re forman’s sister” he replied, ending the conversation. “By the way, 17 suites ya” he said. “Thanks hyde” I smiled. “Ya know what, as a birthday gift, here, take a sip of my beer” he said, handing me the can in his hand (obviously it was wrapped so it looked like a can of orange soda). “Hyde. I drank with you guys more than a sip of beer” I said. “Fine, take the whole can. Women, you give ‘em a finger they grab your wallet” he sighed as i took the can off of his hand. I laughed and took a sip. “Steven. Come upstairs. I need your help with something only a man can help me with” i hear my mom. “Ask donna!” Hyde called back. I laughed. “STEVEN” my mom yells. “Well, (y/n), i gotta go" he says, tapping on my thigh. I smiled at him, "bye for now". Gid, I hope he didn't notice me blushing.

A few moment later I was called upstairs too to find my mom, my dad, my brother and the gang plus a few of my classmates. "Suprise!" They all called in unison. "Wow! I cannot belive it, mom, you throw me a party?" I said, and Derek looked confused. "I told you I'll see you at the party-" "shhhh" I cut him off. My mom bought the fact I was surprised every single year. She looked at me, then at him, confused. "You? Really? I do not…. Okay fine mom, I knew about the party. I know every year" I finally admit. "I can not belive you…" she opened her mouth, but gave up and left the livingroom, allowing us kids have fun. My dad walked behind her, in a mission to comfort her.

The hours passed by, and most of the people left. It was now the gang, me and Derek. Turns out the guy actually has a personality. We laughed and talked, and I was actually having a decent time. I sat with him on the couch, drinking a beer sponsored by Kelso. "Okay, okay, so here's a joke. Once there was this doctor, and he visited a mental hospital, y'know, for like, crazy people. Then one of the guys just slaps him, like" he said, and then softly "slapped" me. His hand stayed on my cheek for a moment, but soon enough he needed it for his overly dramatic way of talking. So many hand gestures. "And then the doctor goes to the principal and he's all like, "why did this guy slap me?" And the principal is like "that's just how they say hi here" so the doctor is like, okay, whatever, and he keeps walking around and then that guy slaps him not once, but 10 times. Now, one time is acceptable, y'know, it's polite to say hello, but 10? That's crossing a line" Derek said, and I laughed. "I'm not even at the punchline!" Derek smiled, nudging my shoulder and smoothly resting his hand on my shoulder as he took a sip of his own beer. "So anyway, he goes back to the principal, and he tells him just that. The principal looks at him and say, "well, this one stutters" " Derek smiles. I laugh, and so does the rest of the gang who apparently listened. The only one not laughing was Hyde, "yeah, saw that joke on playboy too" he said. "There are jokes on playboy?" Eric asks. I look at him, mortified. I did not need to know my brother.. uses these. "Because I don't… I don't have any, so like, maybe I should get one to check out the jokes" Eric said, attempting to save himself from Donna's stare. She rolled her eyes and decided to let it go. "Well, it's getting late, I should probably head home" Derek said, and took my hand, dragging me to the door and hugging me goodbye.

"Finally, I was dying for a smoke" Kelso sighed, and grabbed a metal box off of his pocket, taking out a joint as the rest of the group arranged in the infamous circle. "Y'know he is my weed guy, right?" I say, and he looks at me surprised. "Are you kidding me? He can get you weed, he looks good, he is funny, and so clearly into you? Girl, make a move" Donna says, nudging you. "He is not good looking" Hyde says, taking a puff off of the joint Kelso just passed him. "He is" Jackie said, "like, really good looking" I agreed. "Whatever, man" Hyde sighed, giving up, "but you gotta admit, the weed I get is better, I'm better looking and I'm also funnier" Hyde said. "Whatever, man" I mimic his tone, taking the joint off of his hands. "Guys,do you think I have a chance with the pretty lady that was at the party?" Fez asked. "You mean Josaleen? I've seen you talking to her" Jackie said. "I don't know her name, she said it but I was focused on… something else" Fez admitted. "Oh, definitely Josaleen. She was wearing this top, i wouldn't even call it a top, her boobs were completely out, she's such a slut. She'll sleep with anyone" Jackie said, taking a break from talking to inhale the smoke, "so no, I don't think you have a chance Fez". "But I am anyone" Fez said. He sounded so broken, "and she gave me her number, look!" He added, showing us a piece of paper he kept in his pocket. "Sweet!" Kelso smiled, taking the number off of Fez's hands, "thanks men, I'll call her later".

The next day, I went to the basement to find Hyde smoking all alone. "Hey man" I said, jumping on the couch from behind it, grabbing the joint off of his hands. "Hey" he says, taking the rolled cigarette before I could smoke it. "Hyde, are you okay? You were kinda quiet at the circle. You barely even laughed when kelso stole the number of the hot girl from Fez" I said, resting my hand on his far shoulder. "Yeah, I'm fine" he said, blowing the smoke and handing me the joint. I took it, "yeah okay". I gave up getting anything out of him. He just had no emotions and I had to face it. This is why I said yes when Derek asked me out over the phone two minutes ago. He doesn't make butterflies appear in my stomach like Hyde does, and his touch doesn't burn my skin but whatever, Hyde is a non-reachable dream. "Listen, uhm, Derek asked me out" I said, a part of me hoping he'd get jealous. "poor guy" he said. "Why's that?" I ask him. "Well, you crushed his heart. You shouldn't have let him hold your hand and be all over you, got his hopes high" Hyde said as he took his cigarette back. "Actually I said yes. Donna was right, ya'know, he is hot, funny and got weed connections" I say, moving my hand that still rested on him. He faced me, shocked. "But you deserve better than that drug-dealing-playboy-reading, pot-head teen" Hyde said. "You're a drug-dealing-playboy-reading, pot-head teen!" I reply, slightly amused but mostly upset. "Well, I'm better at it!" Hyde replies, and gets up. "Whatever, man" he says, and makes his way to the door. "No, non of that whatever man shit, hyde. Sit down and tell me why the fuck do you care" I say, and Hyde turns around. "He's just trying to get in your pants cause your hot" Hyde replies. "I- did you just say I'm hot?" I say, tempted to laugh. "No, I didn't. Look, (y/n), all I know is that you can do better than him" Hyde says, turning off the bearly used cigarette and resting it in the ashtray. He finally sat back down next to me. "Look, Hyde, in case you missed it, there aren't any guys lining up to date me. Is it so hard for you to believe someone can be actually interested in me for more than sex?" I sigh. "It's not, you're a cool person, (y/n) it's just… god, how do I explain that? I don't want you to get hurt okay? You're like… my best friend's sister, and…" he started, but gave up what he wanted to say. "And…" I ask. "Do you promise not to laugh?" He says. "Sure" I say, intrigued. "Well, it's just that… When i’m around you, i have this annoying feeling like- like there are butterflies in my stomach. Have you ever felt that? It’s terrible" he says. "I know what you mean, got someone that makes me feel like that too. It is terrible" I agree. "Derek, I'm assuming? I really think that-" he starts, but something cuts him off, and I am proud to say that something is my lips crushing into his. He breaks the kiss quickly. "Woah, man, hold up" he smiles. "God, I'm so sorry" I say, covering my mouth, "i- I guess I misunderstood you" I say, getting up. "Nononono you didn't, you didn't!" He calls, grabbing my hand and pulling me to the couch. I fall right in his lap. "I just wanted to make sure you mean it" he admits, looking anywhere but into my eyes. "I do mean it" I say, cupping his cheeks as he pulls me back into a second kiss. This time we are far more into the kiss, our lips move in perfect synchronization. It was amazing, I bet Hyde is a much better kisser than Derek. "Wait" I say, cutting off the kiss even tho I wish the moment would last forever. "I need to cancel on Derek".

#steven hyde x reader #steven hyde #that 70s show imagines #that 70s show x reader #that 70s show #steven hyde imagines #steven hyde imagine

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damianwaynerocks · 4 years

Text

Zuko & the Waynes - Chapter 3

Batfam/ATLA au

Description: Prince Zuko, pre-finding Aang, falls into Gotham City. After being adopted by Bruce Wayne, Zuko finds himself enjoying life in this strange world. Zuko Wayne has a family who loves him unconditionally. Zuko Wayne is a hero, saving the innocents of Gotham City every night. But Zuko soon finds himself at the center of a plot that threatens to destroy not only this new world he's come to love, but also the world he's trying to leave behind.

A/N: okay, so the members of the titans and young justice team are different in this au.

Young Justice: Tim Drake (Red Robin); Cassie Sandsmark (Wondergirl); Kon/Conner Kent (Superboy); Bart Allen (Impulse)

Titans: Dick Grayson (Nightwing); Koriand'r (Starfire); Garfield Logan (Beast Boy); Rachel Roth (Raven); Jaime Reyes (Blue Beetle); M'Gann M'orris (Miss Martian)

Chapter 2 | Masterlist

Chapter 3:

"So, you remember the plan?"

"Yeah, we got it," said Cassie into her earpiece, having to raise her voice to be heard over the pouring rain outside. "Don't worry about us, we're fine."

"Good to know," Tim responded into the comlink.

It was the night of the auction. Zuko was wearing a black suit while Cassie was wearing a red dress. Both had their masks on. Kon, also known as Superboy, was sitting in the driver's seat. He was acting as their chauffeur, and was there as backup in case anything went wrong. Zuko rolled his eyes as he heard a slurping sound in his com link, presumably from Tim taking a sip of coffee.

"That was gross," Kon sighed. "Don't do that."

Tim ignored him. "Proud of you both. Remember, if the wrong person gets their hands on the magyntite, not even Superman will be able to stop them." He paused. "No pressure, though.”

"Wow, you're great at pep talks." Zuko adjusted the mask on his face, making sure it hid his scar. "You ready, Cassie?"

"I was born ready," Cassie responded with a grin. "Now, let's go, Henry."

"After you, Larissa." Zuko grabbed an umbrella and stepped out of the self-driving black limousine they'd borrowed from Bruce. He went around to her side of the vehicle and opened her door for her. Cassie looped her arm through his, muttering a thank you as Zuko raised the umbrella above both of them. They walked into the casino.

Just inside, a bouncer stepped in front of them. "How tall is the eagle's wingspan?"

"That means do magic," Tim said through the coms.

"Uh," Zuko's mind raced as he tried to think of a spell on the spot. "Fire Dragon Iron Fist!" he finally said, and a ball of fire appeared over his closed fist. The bouncer nodded, and unhooked the red rope, allowing them to step inside.It was bright and loud and flashy, and Zuko had to stop for a moment to get his bearings.

"You good?" Cassie whispered, placing a hand on his chest to steady him. "It's okay. Let's just go downstairs, follow me." She gently led him towards the back of this casino. Tim had told them that there was a staircase behind the bathrooms, and the basement was where the auction was taking place.They walked past the doors that said 'men' and 'woman' and opened the third door, revealing stairs going down to a concrete basement. "You okay now?" Cassie asked as they began to descend.

"Yeah," Zuko grunted. "I'm fine." They walked down a dark and damp hallway, a stark contrast to the bright lights and clean floors of the upper floor. The reached a huge room with a wrap around balcony overlooking the bottom floor. Many people, all wearing masks, were crowded together.

"It's about to start, Mr. Henry," Cassie said. "Let's go sign in." The pair walked through the people until they reached the stairs leading to the bottom floor. Arms still linked, they walked down the stairs.

"There's a ton of people here," Zuko mused. "I wonder what they all want to buy."

Cassie shrugged. "Drugs. Artifacts. Who knows."

They made their way to the middle of the throng of people and sat down in two of the chairs. The auction started soon after, and the words the auctioneer was saying sounded like white noise to Zuko. Finally, twenty minutes in, Tim's voice in his ear made Zuko flinch. "Magyntite is next," he said. "Be ready."

Sure enough, the man held up a silver briefcase. "Magyntite!" he yelled. "This drug is like Kobra Venom! Bulk up your muscles, lady and gentlemen. Do I hear... two million?" Zuko raised his hand and the same time another man did. The man glared at Zuko, who did the same.Back and forth this happened, Zuko and this man trying to get the magyntite. In the end, though, Zuko and Cassie got it for $45,000,000.

"Holy crap," Cassie breathed as they walked back up the stairs. "That man wanted to kill you."

Zuko hummed. "He isn't the only one."

Cassie gave him an amused look."Is that so, Sir Henry?"

"Indeed it is, Lady Larissa."

Golden eyes gazed into blue for a second, both having small smiles on their faces.

"Yo, you guys get it?"

"Uh, yeah," Cassie replied, breaking eye contact. "Yeah, we're heading back now."

Zuko's face reddened. He hadn't felt any feeling similar to that since Mai, when he was thirteen. He shook his head to clear it. Don't be stupid, he told himself. Don't even go there. No chance of that happening.

"You good?" Cassie asked, raising an eyebrow under her mask. Zuko cleared his throat and nodded a little too quickly.

"Me? I'm great. Splendid. Never been better!" he babbled. "Oh Agni, I bet Kon is going crazy! Uh, let's go see him!" He linked his arm with Cassie's and half-led half-drug her through the club and out the door.

"And the lovely couple returns!" Kon cheered as Zuko opened the door for Cassie. "I missed you! Tim told me I couldn't listen to my podcast because I had to stay alert so I've been bored out of my mind."

"Oh, poor baby!" Cassie mocked. "Do you need a massage and a nice cup of tea?"

"I do, actually."

"Too bad, Superbrat."

Zuko looked out the window. He missed his uncle's tea.

Only 11 more months.

___

The next morning, Zuko, Duke and Damian were at the table eating breakfast. Zuko was about to put a piece of bacon in his mouth when he felt eyes on him. Looking up, he frowned as he met Duke's eyes. "What?

Duke's eyebrows were furrowed in disbelief. "Dude, it's 7:00 in the morning. Why are you already dressed?"

Zuko blinked. While the others were in their pajamas- Duke in an old t-shirt and shorts and Damian in his silk robe -Zuko was in jeans and a Ralph Lauren button-up, his hair in a topknot. He would've put shoes on, if it weren't for Alfred's no-shoes-in-the-house rule. "I'm used to getting up at dawn and getting ready. It's what I've done for three years."

Duke shook his head. "You're making me feel like a slob, Zu."

"You will not feel that way for long," Damian spoke up. "For I hear Drake coming down the stairs."

Sure enough, Tim walked around the corner, staggering to the table. He was in an over sized black Superman shirt and his boxers with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His long hair was a mess, and the circles under his eyes made it look as though he had been punched in the face. Alfred pulled out a chair beside Zuko, a cup of coffee already in his hand. Tim stumbled towards the chair, looking as though he was about to pass out. He sat down in the chair slowly, and Alfred immediately put the cup of coffee in front of him. Tim blinked slowly, before picking up the coffee and bringing it to his lips.

"Well," Duke chuckled. "I no longer feel like a slob."

Damian wrinkled his nose, scoffing at Tim. "You are a disgrace, Drake. Have some self respect." Tim stared at him owl-eyed in response.

"Just give him like ten minutes," Duke said. "Anyways! So I heard you went on a mission last ni-"

"Master Duke!" Alfred interrupted him sharply. "Might I remind you the rules of breakfast?"

Duke seemed to shrink into himself as he answered in a small voice, "No vigilante talk at the breakfast table." Alfred nodded in approval before going back into the kitchen. Duke turned back to Zuko. "Later."

Zuko hummed in response.

As soon as breakfast was over, Duke ran to Zuko excitedly. "So!? How'd it go?"

"It went fine," Zuko replied. "I mean, we went in, got the stuff and got back in the car."

"That's it? No fights?"

"No fights."

"What about Cassie? Any emotions?"

Zuko coughed, his eyes widening. "What!? No! Don't be stupid!"

Duke laughed. "Dude, you're gonna have to get better at lying if you want to join the business."

"Which could start right now, if you want." Zuko and Duke whirled around to see Bruce holding a cup of coffee. "You've been here for a month. You can fight and you're smart. You're welcome to start training today, if you want."

Zuko's jaw dropped. "Uh, yeah! That'd be great!"

Bruce smiled."Fantastic. Go get changed into something comfortable and we'll start."

Zuko practically sprinted to his room, but before he could change, his phone chimed.

Cassie Sandsmark: good morning doofus

.Zuko grinned in spite of himself.

Zuko Wayne: good morning!

Cassie Sandsmark: how'd you sleep?

Zuko Wayne: great but i don't know if tim slept at all he's barely alive right now

Cassie Sandsmark: sounds like tim

Cassie Sandsmark: so when u joining the hero business

Zuko Wayne: right now,, I'm about to start training

Cassie Sandsmark: YAY TELL ME HOW IT GOES

Zuko Wayne: of course

Training, Zuko decided, was difficult. It'd been a month since he'd started, and while he was improving, he was sore and sick of computers.

"If I have to break another one of Tim's codes, I'll kill myself," he groaned, flopping on to the couch beside Damian, who nodded.

"Every time Drake speaks, I want to kill myself." Zuko eyed him wearily.

"That's harsh."

"Such is reality." Damian flipped to the next page of the book he was reading. "So, your first patrol is tomorrow?"

Zuko grinned."Yeah. I'm so excited." He sat up, cracking his knuckles. "Gonna be a blast."

"Are you finally adequate at lying?"

Zuko winced. "It took me a while but yeah, I got it."

"Good. We cannot have you exposing our secret." He looked up from his book. "Christmas is next month. Pennyworth instructed me to inform you that he needs a list of what you wish."

Zuko groaned. "I have no idea what I want."

"Well, figure it out," Damian replied. "Because if you do not, I'll have to listen to the complaining."

It was the night of his first patrol. Zuko turned to the mirror. His suit was a black kevlar lined jumpsuit with an obsidian utility belt and combat boots of the same color. There was a blue bat symbol across the chest, and a demon-type stage mask of the same color on his face. He looked at the blue gauntlet on his wrist and flexed his arm.

Dick whistled lowly. "Lookin' sharp, Zu."

Zuko grunted in response, but he couldn't stop the corners of his lips from twitching upwards.

"Good to see you suited up," Bruce said as he saw his son. He turned to the Bat Computer and typed something in. "Alright. Nightwing and Robin, you take the east side. Red Hood and Black Bat, you take the west. Red Robin, you take south. Blue Spirit and I will take north."

"You got it, boss man," said Jason with a mock salute. At that, the vigilantes headed out.

"Remember," Bruce began as he and Zuko got into the Batmobile. "Code names in the field." Zuko nodded.

"I won't forget, Batman."

"Good to hear, Blue Spirit."

After a few minutes if driving, Oracle spoke. "Croc is robbing a store on the corner of North and Order," she said. "Blue Spirit and Batman are closest."

"We're on it," Bruce said, and sped up.

They reached the corner in five minutes, and jumped out of the car. "Croc!" Bruce yelled.

A huge reptilian humanoid turned toward the voice, and smiled. "Batman!" he chirped. "And who's this?"

"Blue Spirit," Zuko said stiffly.

Killer Croc chuckled."New kid to destroy? I love that."

Croc rushed him, snapping his jaws viciously. Zuko jumped into the air, doing a flip over the creature. Fire blasted out of his elbow and he punched Croc in the snout as he turned.

Croc stumbled back. "Igniting your elbow to increase the force of your punch? Smart. Not smart enough." He ran towards Zuko again, claws outstretched, moving at inhuman speeds. Zuko ducked under his claws and gave an uppercut with the same advantage into his stomach. Croc was thrown into the air by the force. Before he could land, Zuko sent a blast of fire at him, engulfing him in flames. Croc screamed and fell to the ground, charred and smoking.

"He's still alive," Bruce said gruffly. "Not bad. I'll call Gordon." Zuko's chest swelled with pride, but he simply nodded.

"There's a robbery at the R&D center of Enterprises," Oracle said suddenly.

"Blue Spirit and I are going to check it out," Bruce answered.

"10-4," Dick replied. "Call if you need backup." Bruce grunted in response and, gesturing for Zuko to follow, jumped back into the Batmobile before speeding off.

"R&D?" Zuko echoed what Oracle had said earlier. "What's that?"

"It's the Research and Development Center," Bruce replied. "It's where we store Batman Inc. tech that's still in production."

"Oh."

“That's right. If anyone succeeds in getting their hands on what's in there-"

"-They'll get their hands on everything." Zuko bit the inside of his cheek. "It's fine. We can do this."

A hint of a smile ghosted across Bruce's lips, so small that Zuko wasn't sure if it'd even been there in the first place.

The Research and Development Center of Wayne Enterprises was primarily used to develop advancements in technology. These advancements ranged from more effective cancer treatments to new engines for vehicles.The blueprints listed the building as being eight stories. Unbeknownst to the majority of WE's employees, there was a basement. A basement hidden far below the actual building, so far below than an express elevator was needed. This basement was where the technology for Batman Inc. was developed.

Unlike the secret basement of Falcone's club, this basement was in pristine condition. It had a hospital feel to it, with white flooring, walls, and ceiling.

Bruce and Zuko had just grappled down the elevator shaft was landed at the end of one of the basement's hallways."The only alarm that's been triggered was the entry alarm," said Bruce. "The rooms where the... merchandise are kept have separate alarm systems. Can you tell me what this means, Blue Spirit?"

"The intruder either doesn't know what exactly is down here, or they just haven't managed to get into the rooms yet." Zuko frowned. "Wait, if they figured out this place was here then that means they definitely know what's down here. So then they haven't found the location of the 'merchandise.'"

"And you believe that to be the most probable scenario?"

"Well... yeah. I mean, unless they managed to bypass the alarm system. But that's impossible, this place is un-hackable ever since that incident with Ra's al Ghul. The security system is invincible. Right?"

"Rule of thumb, Blue Spirit," Bruce grunted, raising his arm closer to his face to he could activate his gauntlet. "Nothing is invincible. Everything has a weakness. Some are harder to find than others, but the only thing that is truly invincible is God Himself. And I don't think He would have any reason to break into Wayne Enterprises."

"Okay, but they tripped the alarm when they came in," Zuko pointed out. "So they must not have been able to hack the system."

"Unless they want us here."

Zuko sucked in his teeth. "So that's what you think? This is a trap?"

"It isn't a trap if we know about it," Bruce countered. "Here, I'm pulling up the motion sensors." Sure enough, the holographic screen coming from the gauntlet showed motion in room 121.

"Is that one of the rooms?" Zuko asked.

Bruce nodded."Yes." He and Zuko started to run in the direction of the before mentioned room. "There's very dangerous technology in there. We need to stop this intruder now." The two were sprinting, taking twists and turns through the winding hallways until Bruce stuck his arm out, signaling for Zuko to stop. In front of them was room 121, the door ajar.

"Holy crap," Zuko whispered. "They hacked us."

"They hacked us," Bruce echoed. "And now they're going to pay. Manuever 13. Be cautious." Bruce rolled a metal ball into the room, and it exploded into smoke Using the smoke as cover, Zuko and Bruce dashed into the room.

Using the heat signatures to see through the smoke, Zuko jumped forward, swinging down his broadswords in arc. His eyes widened as they hit air; the person had disappeared."What-" he broke off as someone landed a hit to his spine. Zuko whirled around, kicking out at his attacker, yet his foot hit air as the assailant dodged again.

"A teleporter?" he muttered. A laugh hit his ears, and the assailant landed another hit to the back of his head. Zuko tried to return the hit with one of his own but, of course, he missed.So far, Zuko noticed, they were teleporting closely around him. They were staying in close proximity with him. It would be hard to deduce where exactly they would strike, unless he limited their options.

Zuko stomped on the ground, and a ring of fire flared up around him. The attacker led out a gut wrenching scream as they were caught in the flames.He caught a glimpse of a person in a black suit clutching their arm before they teleported above his head, aiming a dropkick above him.

But Zuko had anticipated this. He grabbed their leg from above and slammed them on the ground. They landed with a crack and coughed.

"You just broke my spine, you asshole," the person wheezed. They were still now, and Zuko could see she was a girl with long brown hair in a wine-colored robe.

Zuko gulped, forcing down the rising panic at the girl's words. "Maybe you shouldn't have tried to break my skull."

The girl shrugged. "Just following orders."

"Who are you!?" Zuko snarled. "Tell me! Who are you and what do you want with this technology!?"

"Well, if you must know," the girl said, pain evident in her voice despite her calm tone. "I am but a servant of The Lady of the Dual Skies."

"The Lady of the Dual Skies?" Zuko echoed. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing's taken," Bruce said as he crossed his arms from where he stood behind Zuko. "Nothing has even been tampered with. You clearly weren't looking for anything here. So what did you want?"

"The Lady does not permit me speaking with anybody but you." The girl was speaking directly to Zuko, not sparing Bruce a glance. "She has something she wishes you to know."

Zuko narrowed his eyes behind his mask. "And what would that be?"

The girl grinned wickedly. "She says she'll see you soon."

With that, a portal opened up under the girl and she disappeared in a flash of purple light.

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viking-raider · 4 years

Text

Reflection *Fic Request*

Summary: Henry wakes up in the morning, and spends time admiring you as you sleep, with some playful banter after you wake up...two hours later.

Pairing: Henry/You

Rating: More Fluff-ity Fluff Fluff! and some mature references

Word Count: 2,008

Inspiration: Anon Request (x)

Tag List: @jennylovelyheart

Related Fic: Mornings

------

It was a usual morning in the house for you and Henry, starting with Henry getting up anywhere from an hour to three hours, before you, so he could start whatever regimen he might be on for his various filming projects. He didn't have one yet, but, would in the coming weeks as the prep to start working on season two of the Witcher kicked into gear. Even though, he'd slept in, Henry was up almost two hours before your alarm would go off, for you to get up and start the day.

Good. He thought, turning on his side to stare at you. More time for you.

He reached out and twisted a loose strand of your hair around his index finger, watching the look of absolute peace on your face, the way your long lashes laid against your skin and the feel of your warm, soft breath against his hand. Henry couldn't clock the amount of hours he'd spent in bed with you, just like this, over the almost five years the two of you dated. It didn't matter where the two of you were, here at home, safely tucked in your own bed, a hotel room in some big named city, or on site of whatever movie the either of you were shooting. It was the consistent, reliable stability that Henry had craved in his life for a long time, especially since hitting it big on Superman and his life always feeling like a shook up snow-globe. You were his stability in everything; you were the person that could give him one word, one look or just your presence and he'd know where he was in the world, or as you lovingly called it 'keeping that big head in check.' And that's what you did, like a grounding wire. You weren't going to let him get an ego as he got bigger and bigger roles, and forget the man he really is. Both of you built a solid foundation of your relationship on keeping each other in check, supporting each other in the good, the bad and the ugly, picking up wherever one of you had a weakness and protecting it, and reaffirming the strengths you both had. If you were having the worse day from hell, he knew simply locking his arms around you and pressing his lips to the top of your head, would instantly shield you from it, like he was your body armor. If he was getting overwhelmed with work, or struggling on a workout and strict diet, all you had to do was tell him how proud you were of him, that you believed in him, and it gave him the strength to continue on.

“You are the Superwoman to my Superman.” Henry whispered, unraveling the strand of your hair from around his finger, and caressed your cheek, smiling has you whimpered and rubbed your cheek against his palm. “You are what makes my life complete, and meaningful.” he told your sleeping form, lighting his fingertips down your nose. “You are quite literally the most gorgeous woman in the world, and it was the best day of my life, when I met you.”

The pair of you had met on the set of The Man from U.N.C.L.E., where you played the female lead. Henry knew the moment he walked into the first script read through and saw you at the table, where you sat beside your good friend, Elizabeth Debicki, and laughing at whatever it was the two of you found so hilarious, that he was smitten with you. With unbelievable luck, he found that his seat was right next to you, he felt his hands grow clammy, and his insecurities start to flood into him, as he approached you, thankfully you and Elizabeth were still too absorbed in the conversation you were having, to see him coming. He stopped a few steps away from you, rubbing his hands on his jeans and trying to get a handle on himself, before taking the last few steps and pulling his chair out as nonchalantly as he could, and sat down. It was then you noticed him, turning your head away from Elizabeth and giving him a smile that undid all the confidence he managed to recover the moment before.

“Hi.” You smiled, meeting his eyes and extending your hand to him. “I'm y/n.” you introduced yourself.

“Hey, I'm Henry.” he replied, taking your hand in his, and prayed it wasn't as clammy as he felt it was, as he shook your hand. “I'm playing Napoleon Solo.” he added, reluctantly letting your hand go.

“I'm playing Gabby.” You offered back, politely.

“Well, I look forward to working with you.” He said, honestly, smiling back at you.

And Henry had more than enjoyed acting with you in the film, he reflected, as his hand followed the curve of your side and over the slope of your hip. He'd grown a bit jealous as well, on set. Your character had a bit of a fling with Armie's, so, the pair of you had grown rather close on set, something Henry desperately wanted with you, for himself. He was sitting in his chair behind the camera watching as you both did the scene in the hotel where you fight each other, then melt into making out, and no matter how hard he tried to focus on the script in his hand for his up-coming lines, he couldn't keep his eyes off of you, legs wrapped around Armie's waist and your arms around his neck, as you kissed deeply. With a huff, he'd gotten up, tossing his script onto his seat and walked away out of the studio, needing air. But, after you'd finished the scene, you'd panned around for him, noticed he was gone, and came looking for him at his trailer.

“Can I help you?” he'd asked, looking down at your from the steps in his trailer.

You'd frowned and cocked your head to the side as you looked up at him, making him feel like you were staring into his soul. “Superman's jealous.” you said in a slow and amused voice, a grin pulling across your lips.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” he replied, folding his arms over his chest, but you'd grown to see through his defenses and took the two steps up into his trailer, Henry backing up as you did. You'd pulled his arms away from his chest and rested his hands on your shoulders.

“You're a dirty liar.” You'd teased him standing on tip-toe and kissed him, meaningfully, on the lips.

It had been all Henry needed to know you were finally his, that you'd been in love with him since he sat down next to you at the script reading, but too afraid to say anything, in case he didn't feel the same. From that moment in the trailer, you were both almost entirely inseparable. If you didn't have work to do, you'd follow Henry to his various interviews, photo shoots and filming sites, as he would do the same when you were working and he wasn't. You always went to award shows together and premieres. All your friends and family teased you two about being so attached at the hip, it was like you had three of them.

Henry lifted your arm, turning the silver bracelet around your wrist in a circle, it was the first birthday gift he'd given you, just before you and he stepped out of the limo and onto the carpet for the Man from U.N.C.L.E premiere, also the first public appearance you both did as a couple. The top of the bracelet had a gaelic phrase inscribe on it, and on the inside was the translation: Love You Now, and Forever. He'd only ever seen you take it off long enough to take a shower, you wouldn't even take it off for film roles, forcing the director, producers and artists to integrate it into your costume. Henry trailed his fingers flat along your collarbones, rubbed them over your chest, then over the swell of your breast, you moaned in your sleep, reaching out to lightly wrap your hand around his wrist, making Henry smile.

“You are beautiful, y/n.” he whispered, gently kissing the tip of your nose. “I really--” his voice trailed off, and just watched you sleep for a few moments. “What have I done in life to have you love me so much. To trust me like this..” he licked his lips, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, burying his face into your hair for a moment before rolling out of bed. He went into the walk-in closet, pulling down one of the shoe boxes he kept a pair of his dress shoes in, and flipped it open. Reaching inside the left shoe, Henry pulled out a small velvet box and opened the lid, revealing a diamond ring he'd had custom made.

Henry stared at the ring for a long time, and was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of your alarm going off. “I really need to finally propose to you.” he whispered to himself, slipping the box back into his shoe, then slid both back onto the top shelf.

“Henry?” You called out his name, before you'd even finished waking up or turned your alarm off.

“Right here, babe.” He smiled brightly at you, popping out of the closet, holding a t-shirt and a pair of jeans in his hand. “You sleep well, sunshine?” he teased, knowing you hated waking up before the crack of noon.

“Hmm.” You nodded, rolling onto your back and draping an arm across your eyes. “You?”

“I always sleep well, when I'm in bed with you.” he commented back, stepping out of his pajama bottoms and into his jeans.

“Fuck all, you're too happy for 7am.” You shot back, sitting up and looking at him.

“Someone got warm last night.” Henry grinned, seeing you shirtless, not that he didn't already know that after staring at you for two hours.

“I wonder why?” you replied, shooting him a look that made him laugh. “I tried turning my personal heater down, but, he's permanently stuck on one setting, Henry Cavill.”

Henry laughed even harder as he pulled his shirt over his head, knowing you were in full swing of giving him shit, when you dropped his full name. He settled his shirt over his muscular torso and grinned, impishly at you. “I told you last night after we made love, if you want the heater to go down an notch, to twist the nipple a little harder.”

“Oh my god!” You howled, laughing as you fixed your hair and got out of bed. “That is so not what you said!” you called over your shoulder as you went into the bathroom. “You said, if I wanted to make you harder to twist your nipple, it was pulling on your ear that was supposed to turn the heat down.” you said, relieving yourself. “And while you did get harder, you only got warmer.”

“You probably pulled the wrong ear.”

You choked on a laugh, pressing your hands to your face and got up to start brushing your teeth. “I'm starting think I need to see your mother for a instruction manual.” You told him, between brushing.

“My mother does not know what ear to pull to cool me down.” Henry told you, standing in the bathroom doorway.

“No, but she might know where to kick you, for a restart or fail safe.” You countered, spiting into the sink and swishing mouthwash.

“You don't need to kick me for that.” He told you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder, turning his face into your neck. “Just kiss me.” he whispered into your ear, tugging on it with his teeth.

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animemangasoul · 4 years

Text

You Have A Home With Me

Summery: Tim takes in a meta human kid and tries to keep him a secret from the rest of the batfamily until his team gets back. It doesn't go as well as he'd hoped. And with an entire criminal empire after the kid, it's all Tim can do to keep it all under wraps and away from the media's attention

Characters: Tim Drake, Batfamily, Young Justice

Chapter: 3/5

Silently he picks up the discarded items on the wet floor; mind churning as he tries to formulate his next plan. He couldn’t very well ignore his duties as CEO or his nightly activities to take care of this kid full time until their situation got settled, at the same time---

He is still mulling it all over when quiet footsteps from behind him makes him blink out of his haze. “All dressed up?” he asks, turning his head to look at the kid. Big blue eyes stare back at him from behind blonde curls and the kid looks so small in his too big superman shirt and the slightly too large gray pajama pants that Tim’s heart hurts again just looking at him. How could anyone hurt someone so vulnerable?

The kid doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring back at him; owlish eyes trying and failing to hide the sleepiness dragging them under. Tim smiles. “I know you’re tired. But I’ll be done in a few seconds and then we can get something to eat before you go off to bed.”

Pale blonde eyebrows narrow, and the kid purses his lips.

“Not hungry?” Tim asks, knowing full well how impossible that was, but giving the kid a choice, at least for today might be for the best. The kid’s grip on the door-frame tightens and he shrugs. “Ok then,” Tim says, picking up Bart’s favorite shampoo bottle from behind the trashcan. “I’m sure I have some of Alfred’s leftover lasagna from yesterday and it’s honestly delicious so-”

From the corner of his eye he can see the kid slowly retreating, probably done with his social interaction for the moment, and Tim huffs. “Hey.” The kid pauses, halfway out the door. “What’s your name?”

He tries to ask the question as casual as possible, not even looking at the kid as he picks up the last of the mess, slowly stands up. “I’m sorry I called you by that..... What’s your name? If you don’t mind me asking?”

A dash of footsteps and the kid is gone, Tim sighs. “Too much Drake. Too much.”

He takes a bit longer to finish up, but that’s normal, that’s fine. It’s not like he was..... Tim wouldn’t admit that he was deliberately stalling, he was so not anxious about some tiny brat he’d personally rescued from a corrupt organization.

Not like it was mildly insulting that the kid still did not trust him when Tim had done everything remotely possible to show him that he was neither scared of his abilities nor willing to abandon him on a whim. It’s not like he was tired and worried and anxious and..... Tim was fine. Tim was fine. He was always fine.‘I’ll just give him a couple of minutes to calm down,’ he thought, sitting down on the closed toilet seat with heave of his shoulders.‘Wouldn’t do to crowd him while he’s agitated.’

Picking up the first aid kit lying innocently next to the bathtub, he gets to work tending to his now severely throbbing wrist. It said a lot about his life that he could ignore the pain until he found the time to deal with it. It said a lot about his family and the crushing work they dealt with every night. A sprained wrist? He snorted as he finished tying it up. Oh please.

Finally done, he scooped up the kit under one arm and took a deep breath before standing up. “That’s long enough,” he muttered, walking out of the bathroom and making his way to the living room where, sure enough, the kid was; exactly in the same spot he’d occupied when they’d first made their way into the apartment. “I’ll make dinner,” he said offhandedly to the kid; deliberately putting the first aid kit on the middle of the coffee table. “And then we’ll take care of your injuries. Deal?”

The kid shook his head vigorously and.... Tim blinked back in surprise. That was the first time the brat had actually answered him that quickly. “Ok,” he said slowly, taking a step back and folding his arms. “We don’t have to do it to night if you’re not feeling any pain. Are you feeling any pain?” The kid paused for a second before shaking his head again and Tim frowned. “You sure?” Another pause and then a nod. “Fine,” Tim said, turning and walking into the kitchen. “Tomorrow it is.”

-----------

Heating up dinner doesn’t take long and soon enough they are both sitting on opposite sides of the dinner table, two plates of lasagna in front of them. Tim is starving and digs in almost immediately, not even waiting for his steaming meal to cool down a bit, but just as he is about to take his third bite, he catches sight of the kid. The kid who has yet to even lift a hand to pick up his utensils and Tim frowns at him in confusion. “You don’t like lasagna?” The kid shrugs looking away and....

Sighing heavily, Tim puts down his own fork and folds his arms. Why was this kid so freaking difficult? Tim couldn’t read minds and the brat was a mystery wrapped in suspicion wrapped in paranoia and Tim knew, he knew it was only a matter of time before he messed this whole thing up horribly and shit truly hit the fan. “You not hungry?”

Nothing.

“Is it too little? I can get you more when you’re finished?”

Nothing.

Frustration now mounting Tim leans forward slightly trying to meet the kid’s gaze. “I’m sorry kiddo but I can’t read minds. You have to tell me what’s wrong or I won’t know how to help.” The blonde finally meets his eyes and.... Tim’s lips part in stunned silence at the watery fear flooding the kid’s eyes and trickling down his cheeks. What the---

Shaking his head furiously, the kid pushes the plate aside and clams a hand over his mouth all the while glaring up at Tim in what the vigilante can only call terror. What the hell was going on? What did he do? Why was the kid crying? Why was.....

And then it hits him.

It’s like the pages of the folder he’d been reading this whole week starts flipping open in his mind and he remembers. Page seven, paragraph four.

Leaning back, Tim runs a shaking hand through his hair and tries his damnedest not to cry. “You’re scared I poisoned your food, aren’t you?” The kid flinches, bottom lips wobbling as he refuses to meet Tim’s eyes anymore. Tim suddenly doesn’t feel like eating either. “They messed with your food and.... You don’t know if you can trust me not to do the same.”

Silence.

Tim bites his lips and looks away. Fuck. What the hell was wrong with M.E.T?

Every new thing he learned about them he just--

Staring at his fingers, he tries to breath. It wouldn’t do for him to lose it in front of the kid. That wouldn’t help anybody. ‘Relax,’ he thinks. ‘Just calm down. If you show your anger now God knows how he’ll interpret it. Just breath and calm down.’

Looking at the curled-up figure across from him, Tim tries to prioritize this moment. This instant. The right here and now. He’ll make them pay, but for now....

Leaning forward, he ignores the kid shrinking away and instead picks up the untouched plate in front of him before standing up, making sure the plate is still in eyesight of the blonde who is rapidly watching him from behind shaking fingers.

Reaching up, Tim pulls down a bigger plate from the top shelf and puts it at the center of the table before dumping the lasagna in it. The kid doesn’t make a sound but his confusion is quite evident from the widening of his eyes, and Tim smiles reassuringly at him before picking up his own plate and also dumping it in the same plate, and then, using a clean fork, he mixes it all up thoroughly.

Satisfied, he plops down on his chair and picks his fork back up. “Now there is no way for me to poison you,” he says. “Since we’re eating the same thing, right?”

He doesn’t say anything else, just digs in; at a much slower pace as he silently prays that his solution turned out to be an actual solution and that the poor kid wouldn’t starve and----

A shaking fork finds its way into the plate and Tim doesn’t look at the kid, eating instead in quiet silence but his heart lifts seeing the other side of the plate slowly emptying and well, Tim would be lying if he said his mind didn’t feel utter relief knowing that the kid wouldn’t go to sleep hungry.

“Matt.”

“Huh?”

The soft unfamiliar words startle Tim out of his thoughts, and it takes him a second to realize that the kid is actually speaking to him and.... His eyes widen, head snapping up to meet the too pale face of the blonde. “What did you say? Did you say something?”

The kid shrinks back, cheeks flushed red from embarrassment as well as the tomato sauce staining the whole lower half of his face; making him look even more painfully young. “My name,” the kid says; voice shaking uncontrollably. “is Matt.”

There is traces of a slight accent in his words and he goes right back to shoving forkful of lasagna in his mouth the minute the words are out but....

Damn it, Tim quickly looks down to stop the brat from seeing the wetness in his eyes. “It’s nice to meet you Matt. I’m Tim.”

“Nice to meet you... Mr.Tim.”

And yeah.... Tim would probably fight the whole world for this kid.

----------

When dinner is over, Tim instructs the ki--- Matt to wash his face before he goes to bed. And as he cleans up the table, he keeps an eye on the child standing on a chair, carefully washing off the sauce from his face.

“You can sleep in the guestroom down the hall,” he finally says when the kid has jumped down from the chair, eyes fixed on his feet and tiny hands gripping the hem of the blue shirt. “Here,” he says, reaching into his pocket and extending the keys to the wide-eyed kid. “You can lock your door if you want. If you feel safer that way I mean.”

Matt doesn’t take a step closer, just continues to stare at the keys with a sort of longing in his eyes that makes Tim smile sadly.

Putting the keys on the table he steps back and as soon as he does, the kid springs forward and snatches it up, looking up at him as if he expects some kind of reaction, but all Tim does is nod at him once before he takes the plates over to the sink; careful to leave enough room for Matt to sprint past him if he wants, which the kid does almost immediately.

Well, Tim thinks. 'I guess he fulfilled his sharing quota of the day.’

------

The minute he’s done cleaning up after them, Tim situates himself on the sofa; mug of coffee in hand and several folders spread out in front of him as gets to work. He still hadn’t finished the presentation for tomorrow’s unveiling project and he needed to get a head start on that drug case Dick was working on and not to mention the weapon smuggling ring him and Jason were trying to uncover and---

Sighing, he rubs a tired hand across his brow and pulls up the file on his computer before he starts typing. It would be a long night indeed.

He’s been working for almost three hours; four trips to the kitchen for coffee refills and one trip for a change of clothes when he hears tiny shuffling from behind him. Looking up he blinks tiredly at the tiny child standing across from him; arms curled around his middle and tired eyes framed by a pale face, widening as if he hadn’t expected to actually find Tim.

It takes the young CEO a full minute to wrap his head around this strange kid being in his apartment; for a moment wondering if Damian had dyed his hair or something before his mouth rounds off into a silent o and he fully sits up to stare back at the kid. “Matt? What are you doing up?”

The kid doesn’t say anything, thin lips curling downward in distress as he shuffles forward before stopping abruptly and taking a step back.

Tim frowns. “Couldn’t sleep?”

A nod.

“Nightmare?”

Another nod.

“Anything I can do?”

A shake of the head, no.

“Ok. Do you want me to make you something?”

Another shake of the head.

Tim’s brows crease in worry. “Do you not feel safe in your room?”

A nod.

“Oh.”

Well, that was disheartening. What exactly was Tim supposed to do about that? If even a locked door Matt could control couldn’t make the kid feel safe then how---

A tiny body darts passed him and before Tim even has a chance to blink, the kid flings himself up on the other side of the sofa, curling into a ball and leaning his head against the armrest, closing his eyes.

Tim stares, stunned. Was the kid going to....

“You want to sleep here?”

A nod.

“Do you want me to go?” Tim reaches out to pick up his paperwork but---

A shake of the head and..... Oh, wow. The vigilante can’t help the ghost of a smile that pulls at his lips. “Ok. That’s ok. Goodnight Matt.”

“Goodnight Mr. Tim.”

End

This kid is legit making me sad while writing this. Like why do I do this to him? I’m horrible. Tim and his angsty/hurt son. Things can only get worst before they get better.

@miss-choco-chips @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen anyone else who want me to tag them please let me know and thanks for reading everyone :)

#Tim Drake #Batfamily Fanfic #batfamily fic rec #red robin #red robin fanfic #batsiblings #young justice fic #young justice #Young Just Us

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marshmallow-phd · 5 years

Text

Crash Course

Guardian Angels are everywhere. They look out for their charges and keep a distance. But why? What happens when they get too close? The answer is love. And between an angel and a human, it is the most forbidden connection.

Genre: Angel!AU

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader

Summary: Chanyeol wasn’t the most graceful angel. He could be loud, clumsy, and a little overbearing. But he usually could keep himself secret from humans. That is, until things go very wrong when you discover him in your apartment in the middle of the night....

A/N: Part 5 of the @wolveswithblackpearls angel series! (moodboard made by the adorble admin S!)

Kyungsoo I Sehun I Baekhyun I Jongin I Chanyeol I Junmyeon

This is what happened to Chanyeol since he wasn’t paying attention. Granted, he wasn’t the best when it came to the finer details of things like Junmyeon or Kyungsoo, but he thought he was doing a decent job in sneaking around your house quietly. Even if he did accidentally make a small noise, you wouldn’t be able to see him, right?

All he was trying to do was scare away the real burglar. And he’d done a good job, making the potential thief think the owner of the apartment had come out and opened the sliding glass door. He’d gotten a kick out of watching the criminal scurry down the fire escape, slipping several times on the old metal steps. But Chanyeol’s concentration was completely broken when he accidentally tripped over his own feet after laughing a little too hard and sent one of your plants crashing down to the floor, breaking the terra cotta pot and spilling the soil all over your cream colored rug. He stared at the disaster he’d created.

“Oh, no.”

He scrambled to put it all back together when he heard the creak of the box spring and careful footsteps coming from your bedroom. Debating back and forth, Chanyeol weighed his options. He could just disappear, but leaving the mess he created might cause you unnecessary panic. So did that mean he should stay? Should he let himself get caught? That was completely against the rules. He’d be in so much trouble….

Chanyeol still hadn’t made a firm decision when he heard the squeaking of the floorboards from the hallway. Every muscle was frozen, unmoving as he tried to command them to shift from their current position. He needed to leave. Fast.

You rounded the corner, a steel baseball bat held high in the air. Chanyeol wanted to laugh at the sight of you, but he had to keep his full concentration on not being seen. With the current state he was in, he could easily slip and accidentally reveal himself. However, he wasn’t the only one not paying full attention.

Barefoot and still in your pajamas, you made your way around the living room. You barely glanced at the broken pot before searching the rest of the room. Chanyeol watched closely, worrying about the shards of the pot scattered around.

“Shoot!” you hissed. Falling to the floor and landing on your backside, you whimpered as you inspected the cut.

Chanyeol jumped forward, forgetting all about staying invisible, and reached out to take care of his charge. “Are you okay!”

Yeah… that just made things worse.

“Holy crap!”

You scrambled and swung the bat at his legs. Chanyeol jumped in time to miss being hit with the steel bar. He stayed floating there in case you decided to try again the other way. Your eyes grew big at his anti-gravity abilities.

Several times you opened and closed your mouth in a humorous fashion. Chanyeol wanted to giggle at your expression, but he was able to hold it back. Right now probably wouldn’t be the best time to start laughing at you.

“W-what… are you?” you asked between heavy breaths. The bat had fallen from your hands and you were leaning back, almost… afraid of him? Why would- oh, right. To you, he was a stranger. A stranger who could fly.

Right, Chanyeol, think.

“How did you get in here?” you demanded, feigning a bit of bravery.

Chanyeol pointed to his right. “The sliding glass door.”

You pulled your eyebrows together, flickering your eyes between the space where his feet weren’t touching the ground and the balcony door. “What are you, some overgrown Peter Pan?”

“Huh?” Chanyeol shook his head. “No! I was keeping a thief from breaking in here. He had a knife and I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“So, Superman, then?” you mocked.

Landing back on the floor so he was now sitting cross-legged in front of you, Chanyeol sighed. “No, that’s not it either.” He scratched his scalp as he weighed his options. He could lie. Maybe say that he was just a ghost or this was all a dream, but that didn’t sit right with him. “I’m not really supposed to be telling you any of this….”

You scoffed. “You broke my pot. You owe me.”

Chanyeol pouted at that. He didn’t think that the revelation of the existence of his species really amounted to a fallen plant, but he couldn’t really argue that without giving himself up anyway.

“So...” you egged on. “Are you going to come out with it or do I have to get the bat again and chase you out of my home?”

“It’s not nice to threaten an angel with a bat,” Chanyeol snapped. Then he cringed. Oops.

But rather than looking at him with awe or amazement, you laughed. “An angel? Yeah, sure. Okay. I think I’d believe the Superman story a little easier.”

Chanyeol’s jaw dropped. “An alien with superpowers is easier to believe?”

“Than an angel? Yes.”

Well, now you were just revving up his competitive spirit. He reached for your foot, determined. “Here, I’ll show you.”

You dodged his grip. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you doing?”

“I’m going to heal your cut,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Are you serious?” you asked as you eyed him suspiciously.

“Yes,” he nodded. He held out his hand, palm up. “Now, give me your foot.”

For a moment, it seemed like you wouldn’t give the appendage up. Chanyeol waited and fought with his patience. He needed you to trust him. Why? Well, he didn’t really have an answer, just that he couldn’t leave without knowing that you believed him and didn’t think he was a mad man or some made up superhero.

Eventually, you slowly began to lift your foot, placing your ankle in his hand. “Just don’t plant any alien eggs in there, okay?”

He laughed at your absurd reference. As he kept his eyes trained on the gash, he lifted his other hand. A warm, golden glow surrounded his fingers before spreading over to your foot. Your eyes widened, finally giving him that sense of awe he’d been waiting for. When he was done, you took back your foot, inspecting the now pristine area, save for the slight coating of soil.

You let out a short laugh, then smiled up at him. “You know, that just supports the superpower theory, right?”

Chanyeol groaned. “Are you kidding me? I just made a cut heal in a few seconds!”

“Yes,” you agreed. “But that could be an explanation for a lot of things. It doesn’t necessarily scream ‘angel’.”

“You nearly died after being stuck in an elevator last year.”

“W-what?”

Chanyeol scooted closer to you. What he really wanted to do was to grab your hand, but that didn’t seem like the best idea. It was a traumatic experience for you and it was cruel enough just to bring it up again. “Last year, you were in an elevator at work when it suddenly stop. At first, you thought the power was out, but then it shook. Then it tilted. You were alone and scared. It took nearly an hour for the firefighters to break the doors open. As soon as you were free and back on the floor, it crashed down to the basement.”

You swallowed thickly, glassy tears pooling on your bottom lids. “How did you know that?”

“I’m your guardian angel,” he said. “I was there.”

Rather than giving him thanks, you scoffed. “Then why didn’t you get me out of there sooner?”

“Who do you think was holding up the cables?”

You stared at the giant strange man sitting across from you. The options as what to believe or even think at the moment had you at a complete loss.

“If you were there,” you said slowly, “why didn’t you just get me out? Use your angelic gifts to poof me out of that death trap?” To this day, you couldn’t take the elevator without having flashbacks. The very idea of stepping into one sent you into a panic attack.

A guilty look came across the angel’s face. “We’re not supposed to interfere to that degree. Not in a noticeable way, at least. I would never have let anything happen to you, though! I made sure you got out!”

Your head was spinning. The man – angel – who’d woken you up from your sleep was insisting that he was also the reason you’d survived the accident last year. And you believed him. The inspectors afterwards had said that the cable had snapped fairly quickly and you shouldn’t have been rescued in time. A real life miracle, they called it.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

The angel’s eyes grew bigger than they already were, shocked at those two small words. “What did you say?”

“I said ‘thank you’.” Sure, you’d said it quietly, but you figured he’d be able to hear you with ears like that. “You know, for saving my life. I guess, twice now if there really was a burglar.”

“Huh,” was his only response.

You frowned. “What?”

“Nothing,” he replied, quickly waving his hands in front of him to chase away any doubt of honesty. “I’ve… never been thanked before, that’s all.”

“Never?”

“Nope.” He shook his head and then shrugged his shoulders, “It’s just… part of the job.”

“A rather underappreciated one, don’t you think?” you teased with a small smile. This angel, with his goofy grin and soft features, was… well, he was kind of cute. And the way his expressions jumped from one emotion to the other with such ease was drawing you in.

You groaned internally. Only you would start this situation out ready to start swinging a bat and then end up with a crush on your guardian angel. Clearing your throat, you asked, “So, um, do you have a name? Or am I supposed to just call you ‘angel’ from now on?”

That small, sideways smile bloomed into a full blown grin that outshined a full moon. “It’s Chanyeol.”

“Chanyeol,” you repeated, liking how the syllables flowed together, like leaves on a creek. Oh, great. Your thoughts were starting to get poetic with his name. You should get out of there. “Well,” you stood up to your feet, faking your tiredness with stifled yawns and overdramatic stretches, “I think I should head back to bed. Work in the morning and all.”

Chanyeol’s smile dimmed noticeably. “Oh, okay.”

“But I’ll see you around?” you asked hopefully.

He nodded, the light coming back. “Yes. Absolutely.”

“Good,” you smiled back. “See you around, tiger.” Before you could change your mind, you marched on back to your bedroom and shut the door.

Where, exactly, you’d be seeing Chanyeol was the real mystery.

When you woke up the next morning, the plant was cleaned up. Its new place in the trash bin was the only evidence that last night wasn’t a strange dream you had from that different tea flavor you tried before bed. Shrugging it all off as unimportant, you made yourself a quick breakfast and got ready for work.

It was an odd feeling, going through your normal routine while knowing of the possibility that there was an angel watching over you. And what if he wasn’t the only angel around? Were there dozens on this floor of the company building, just hanging around and making sure nothing happens to the humans they’re charged with? What embarrassing things had those strangers seen you do?

“Hello!”

“Holy crap!”

The sudden voice right next to your ear made you jump, spilling the steaming coffee from your mug onto your arm and stinging the skin. You glared up at Chanyeol while trying to lightly pat the throbbing area.

“I’m sorry!” Chanyeol quickly took hold of your arm, placing his warm palm over the skin. That strange glow was back and the pain subsided in seconds. Little drops of coffee still fell from your arm, but at least you wouldn’t have to go find some ointment for it later.

“I’d say you come in handy, but really it’s only when you’ve caused the injury in the first place,” you grumbled as you refilled your mug.

Chanyeol dropped his head in shame. “I’m sorry.”

Why did he have to look so vulnerable like that?

Placing a knuckle under his chin, you lifted his head just enough so you could look him in the eye. “Hey. I was just teasing. Don’t beat yourself up over it. Accidents happen.”

A ghost of his usual smile was beginning to appear, making you sigh. Then he frowned again. “Is something wrong?”

You shook your head, plastering on a smile. “No. Not at all. Why?”

“You seem… down,” he explained.

“I’m at work when I’d rather be doing something else,” you told him. It was partially true, but it was also partially a lie. It wasn’t the reason for your heavy heart at the current moment. Wanting to change the subject, you glanced around, remembering where you were in the first place. “How did you even get in here? It’s the tenth floor of a high security building.”

A boastful gleam sparkled in his eyes. “The angel way, of course. Don’t worry, you’re the only one who can see me right now.”

Your jaw dropped. “You can do that?”

“Yes,” he nodded proudly. “It takes a lot of concentration, but I can make sure that only you see me.”

“So, I look like I’m talking to myself? Fantastic.” Because everyone here didn’t think you were weird enough as it was.

“Do you want me to be seen so you don’t look crazy?” he offered.

“No!” You grabbed hold of his arm as if that would be the one thing that kept him invisible. “The last thing that needs to happen is you being dragged out of here by security.”

“Alright then.” That boy even had the audacity to wink at you. His demeanor changed then. Tilting his head as if he was trying to listen in on a faint conversation, his eyebrows pulled together and he frowned. “I have to go. I think I need to check on another charge.”

“Another charge?” So, you weren’t the only one he was looking out for? Well, there went your specialness.

He nodded. “I’ll… be back. Okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” You didn’t quite believe him. What need would he have to come back?

Chanyeol gave you a small wave before disappearing with a pop!

For the millionth time, you reminded yourself that he was an angel, a higher being that was simply meant to look out for you and make sure you didn’t die before your time. In no way was it appropriate to start crushing on him or be sad when he had to leave.

But damn if he didn’t make it hard.

And he just made it harder with his frequent visits at work. And your apartment. And random times when you were out and about.

You were sure that he just wanted someone to talk to. He wasn’t actually popping by because of you necessarily, but you were the one human being who knew of his existence, so it made sense for him to take relish in having someone to talk to. That didn’t stop you from looking forward to his appearances, though. Which was why today you were in such a sour mood.

You hadn’t seen Chanyeol since yesterday morning after weeks of having him randomly show up multiple times a day. His presence and frequent drop ins while you were at the copy machine or reaching on your balcony or even one time right when you were getting out of the shower. Yes, you were wrapped securely in a towel, but you’d never seen someone’s face get so red before.

Did you do something to scare him off? Was it something you said? Did he get in trouble by a higher up for talking to you too much? All these questions and more kept bouncing around in your head, making you completely unaware of your surroundings.

“Hello? Earth to (y/n)?” A hand blurred in front of your face, making you jump.

Yoon, a fellow coworker, was smirking at you. “Daydreaming?” she teased.

You rolled your eyes. “Got to have dreams to do that. What’s up?”

Yoon motioned with her head to the big office behind her. “Mr. Kang wants to see you. Urgently, he said.”

You groaned. Mr. Kang preferred to use you as his errand runner for some odd reason. He seemed to like you, but when he was constantly making you run files and papers all over the building, you had to wonder sometimes.

Pushing your chair away from your desk, you stood up and headed over to the big, open office of Mr. Kang. You knocked lightly on the door before pushing it open and peeking your head in.

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Kang?”

Your boss looked up from his computer. “Yes! Come in!”

You obeyed, coming to a stop in front of his desk. Mr. Kang handed over a very official looking portfolio and you took it cautiously.

“I need you to go up to the sixteenth floor and have Miss Havard sign that so we can close this deal. It needs to be her only who signs it and I need you to bring me back the original, if you would.”

You nodded once. “Of course, Mr. Kang.”

Before you could exit the office, he called out to you one more time, making you suppress a sigh.

“Yes, sir?”

“I need that done as quickly as possible. The client is waiting to hear back from us and I don’t want to keep them waiting any longer than they have to.” He face melted to a soft, sympathetic look. “There’s construction going on in the stairwell and so… the elevator would be faster. You’re the one I trust to accomplish this, so please, try, at least.”

Oh. Fantastic. Breathing in deeply, you nodded again and headed out.

It was a huge probability that it would be faster for you to run up the six flights of stairs and dodge the construction workers than you just standing there in front of the elevators, frozen. You hadn’t even pressed the button yet.

“Come on,” Yoon urged, pressing the “up” button for you. “I have to go up to the fourteenth floor,” she explained when you gave her a confused look. “I’ll travel up with you and show you that it’s completely fine. Then you just have two floors to make it on your own.”

“Okay,” you whispered. You could already feel your breath becoming shallow and that haunting, familiar tightness in your chest was creeping up. Oh, please don’t let me throw up.

The ding of the elevator scared you but you didn’t fight when Yoon guided you into the tiny death box. As soon as the doors closed, you pressed yourself up against the wall and kept your eyes on the glowing numbers, watching as the floors slowly move up. By a miracle, it didn’t stop on any other floor, prolonging your ride of terror, before hitting the fourteenth level.

“You got this,” Yoon encouraged as she held the door open. Of course she could say that. She was safely off the elevator and in the hallway. To try and make you laugh, she held up her fist and shook it once. It only slightly worked as the door slowly shut closed.

Closing your eyes, you focused on your breathing, hand squeezing the metal bar that ran around the inside of the elevator like a belt.

Two floors, you told yourself. Only two floors.

Then the elevator stopped.

You opened your eyes, thinking you’d arrived at your floor, but the red lights still read “15”.

Then the lights flickered.

“No, no, no, no, no, no.” You pressed the “open doors” button over and over again, trying anything to make the elevator move or let you out.

Nothing helped, nothing worked.

You began pounding your firsts on the metal barrier, crying out for anyone to hear you. “Help! Someone, help! I’m stuck in here! Help! Chanyeol!”

On the other side, you could hear the faintest of voices gathering somewhere above you. Great. You weren’t even fully on a floor.

“Who’s in there!” someone yelled. You were barely able to say your name as the sobs broke out. “Don’t worry! We’ll get you out of there!”

The elevator shook and you scrambled back into a corner. Not again. How could this happen again?

Grunts and muffled orders carried on in the space above you. The trembling you felt all over refused to stop and silently in your head, you began to say your goodbyes.

But you saw light again. A hole just big enough for you to crawl through emerged as several men pried the doors apart. You scrambled up to the space and climbed out with help from your rescuers.

“Don’t worry,” one of them said as they tried to comfort you by rubbing your arms with their palms, “you’re free. Paramedics are on their way to check you out.”

Even though he was trying, you weren’t soothed at all. Looking around, you searched for the one face you really wanted to see, but he was nowhere to be found. Some guardian angel he was.

Crap.

Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap.

Chanyeol appeared in your living room, spinning in circles to try and find you. He knew you were here. When he’d gone to see you at work after chasing around a few other charges who were trying to be the next Evel Knievel, he’d heard about what happened only a few hours earlier. He should have known something was wrong. That gut instinct had kicked him, but he thought that you were fine and maybe just accidentally cut or burned yourself again. It was a habit he’d witnessed more than a few times over the last few weeks. But he was dead wrong.

The odds of being stuck in an elevator twice – in the same building no less – were astronomical and yet it happened to you. And he wasn’t there to protect you.

“(y/n)?”

No reply.

Slowly he made his way down the hallway to your bedroom. He called out for you again, but still he was met with only silence. However, when he opened the door to see if you were in bed, he was met with a pillow to the head.

“Get out!” you ordered.

“(y/n), I’m so so-” Smack! Another pillow met its target – his face. Chanyeol rubbed his nose as that one particularly hurt. Who knew you had such a strong arm?

“I said get out!” you sniffed. Now that he had a proper look at you, Chanyeol could see that your eyes were puffy and the tip of your nose was raw from crying. You were in an oversized t-shirt and shorts. The covers were scrambled about on top of the mattress as if you couldn’t find a comfortable way to lay. Yes, you told him to get out, but Chanyeol elected to do the opposite.

Taking off his shoes and jacket, Chanyeol slid into the empty spot next to you and pulled you into his embrace. You didn’t fight him, but you remained stiff against him. Chanyeol rested his cheek against your forehead, rocking you back and forth.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he whispered. “I should have been. And I want to take it back. But I’ll stay here with you. I promise.”

Slowly, he felt you relax against him. Soon, you were bringing your own arms up and wrapping around his waist to pull in closer.

“I was so scared,” you hiccupped. “Why me?”

Chanyeol felt so defeated as he admitted, “I don’t know. But you won’t take another elevator in your life, even if I have to fly you everywhere.”

You actually chuckled against his chest. “I like the sound of that.” Leaning back, you wiped away the tears that rolled down your cheeks. “And I’m sorry. I know that it’s not your fault. You have other people to look after too. I can’t blame you when something goes wrong.”

“Yes, you can,” Chanyeol declared as he cupped your cheeks. He couldn’t stand the crushed look your eyes were giving him. While he’d always had a slight fondness for you… lately, you’d become the most precious thing to him and he’d almost lost it. “I should have been there. But don’t worry. From now on, I will be.”

You tried to shake your head, but Chanyeol’s hands kept you mostly in place. “You don’t have to promise me that. You said it yourself that you have others to look after.”

“But they’re not you.”

Your breath audibly hitched in your throat. But unlike the movies he’d seen where confessions like this led the other party to be frozen in place, you acted.

You had absolutely no idea what came over you. There was just something in Chanyeol’s words that kick started your bravery and the next thing you knew you were leaning in and connecting your lips to his. It was supposed to be a quick, chaste kiss, something prompted by your highly emotional state and his pretty words encouraging you. But you didn’t even get a chance to try and break it up before he was pulling you back in for more.

An angel shouldn’t be able to kiss like this. He definitely shouldn’t be pushing you down onto your back, pressing you deeper into the mattress. But every touch was gentle, treating you glass and letting you take any chance you wanted to end it. Of course, you didn’t. This was a situation you’d allowed yourself on more than one occasion to think about. Not a single one of those daydreams amounted to this, however.

When Chanyeol slowly pushed himself up onto his elbows and effectively ending that heated first kiss, your breaths came out shallow and your head felt dizzy. He stared down at you with those big round eyes so full of adoration that you shrank back.

“What is it?” he said, his breaths just as quick.

You shook your head. “Nothing. I just… I don’t think I’ve ever been looked at like that before.”

“Well,” he smirked, “you’d better get used to it. Because I won’t look at you any other way.”

Soaring on your own cloud nine, you snaked your arms around his neck and pulled him back down. If he was going to look at you like that then you were going to give him a kiss worthy of it.

“Chanyeol, slow down!”

But the big idiot did not slow down as he soared through the air, spinning around and laughing at your fear as you buried your head in his chest. The solid mass you were clinging to for dear life vibrated as he kept releasing teasing chuckles. He tended to forget that falling from this height would actually kill one of you.

“You can look now, (y/n).”

You whimpered, afraid that it might be a trick.

With only one eye, you peeked out over your shoulder. You were surprised to find a brick wall obstructing your view. Venturing out a little further, you realized that you were in a safe spot between two buildings near downtown. Releasing a sigh of relief, you put yourself sound on solid ground once again.

“Let’s not do that again,” you huffed, looking up at Chanyeol with a glare.

He ruffled the top of your head, making you swat his hand away. “Are you saying you didn’t have fun?”

“Yes,” you snipped. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’ve almost died twice by elevator, remember?”

“But you’re with me,” he reminded you. “Nothing will happen while I’m-”

A smoking black arrow fired out of nowhere, barely missing you as Chanyeol spun you into his embrace and faced his back towards the danger. The arrow stuck itself into the crackling mortar between the bricks of the building. Little wisps were still floating of the charcoal neck and the feathers were blacker than a raven’s.

Chanyeol kept you close as he searched around the area for the marksman. But the area was clear.

“What was that?” you asked worriedly.

“Demon,” Chanyeol hissed. He marched over to the arrow, pulling it out of the wall and inspecting its details.

“Those are real, too?”

He nodded. “This isn’t good. I’ll have to tell Junmyeon.”

“Who’s Junmyeon?” You were fairly certain you hadn’t heard him mention any others by name.

“Though not officially, he’s sort of our leader in this district.” Chanyeol grabbed your hand and held it tightly. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”

“How bad it is, Chanyeol?” He knew what you meant. You could tell by the way his shoulders dropped and the heavy exhale he pushed out through his lips.

“I don’t know, (y/n). I don’t know.”

#exo #exo angel au #exo angel!au #exo guardian angel au #exo guardian angel!au #chanyeol x reader #park chanyeol #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #exo series #Crash Course

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blakedawson76 · 4 years

Text

Day 8: Slippery

“Has mission control always been so boring? I could swear it wasn’t this dull last week when we had to come to the Cave and help Artemis.”

“It was an emergency. There probably wasn’t a lot of time to think about much else besides… the emergency.”

“Well, of course I know that, but things were quite calm at the Cave that day. It wasn’t exciting, and there was a lot of waiting involved, but it wasn’t this unbearable.”

“Unbearable? I don't think I’ve ever heard you use that word before.”

Dick sighs into the comm in his ear. “I’m using it now. Don't get me wrong. I’m relieved and glad I’m back at the Cave once more. It’s just…” his voice trails off. He lets out another sigh, this one filled with more frustration.

Conner doesn't reply right away. He’s busy with other things, things that require his full attention. Deciding to ignore Dick for a few seconds, Conner rinses the shampoo out of Carter’s hair and lathers up the little sponge. He cleans Carter with extremely soft yet quick movements, making sure to get the bends of his tiny elbows and knees. Once Carter is all soapy and slippery, Conner talks again.

“Maybe you’re bored because the kids aren’t there with you this time,” he says. He begins rinsing Carter’s body, and is grateful for the comm when Carter starts squirming around and he has both arms to finish the bath with.

“I thought I'd lost the signal,” Dick says.

“Sorry if I space out. I’m bathing the boys.”

Conner can almost see Dick sitting up straighter in his chair. “Is everything okay?”

He rolls his eyes, finishes rinsing Carter off and places him in the towel he’d left ready. He bundles the baby up, starts patting him dry. “Of course it’s okay. It’s not the first time I bathe them on my own.”

“I know, and it’s not like I'm doubting you, though If you need me to sign off—”

“Dick, I love you, but if you think I'll prioritize a consistent conversation with you instead of giving Carter and Colin my full attention while bathing them, I’m giving what’s left of Ma’s pies to the neighbors.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“No, I wouldn’t, but you get my point.”

Dick bursts out laughing. Once Carter is dry, Conner is quick to put him in a diaper and some warm Superman pajamas. Dick had gotten a matching pair a few weeks ago.

“There we go,” Conner tells Carter, who only replies with a gurgle and what resembles a frown. “Don't worry, we’re all done for tonight. I won't bother you anymore.” He proceeds to leave Carter in his swing, straps him in before readying a new baby bath and reaching for Colin in his own swing. “And now it’s your turn.”

“Let me guess. You just finished with Carter,” Dick says.

“He seems to prefer it when you bathe him. Colin doesn't mind as much, and he’s okay waiting longer.”

“Carter got your impatience, didn’t he?”

“If that isn't the pot calling the kettle black,” Conner mutters. He undresses Colin and wets a few cotton pads to clean his face and bottom.

Dick laughs again. Conner focuses on getting Colin into the warm water and begins the bathing process all over again. Dick goes silent after he finishes laughing, at least for a while.

“I really am bored,” Dick admits. “And I think you’re right. The other time I brought them with me and that’s why I didn’t find this job so boring.”

“Are you wishing you could be home instead? Bathing them on your own?”

“Or helping you do it. I don't know. I just miss you guys already.”

“You’ve gone soft on me, Grayson.”

“And now who’s being the pot?”

Conner smiles. “I'll finish up with Colin and send you a picture of the two of them all cleaned up and in their best clothes.”

“Oh, please do. Include yourself in the picture so I can print it out and hang it up somewhere around here,” Dick says. He sounds dead serious.

Conner snorts… and then gets a flash of inspiration.

“What? When a new member joins you’ll show them the picture and go, ‘by the way, meet my husband and sons’?” He manages to sound sarcastic, which is exactly what he wants.

He expects Dick to laugh or at least show some sign of amusement. He also expects an immediate reply. None of those things happen. Instead, he’s met with silence, followed by a very slow: “Yeah… that sounds perfect, actually.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21643741/chapters/51835666

#fluffcember2019 #fluffcember #no.8: slippery #dickkon #kondick #omegaverse #dick grayson #conner kent

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banditthewriter · 6 years

Text

Soulmate Event - Clark Kent

Title: In A Dream Character: Clark Kent (Superman) Number of votes: Two Trope: Having dreams of your soulmate before you meet

Here is the first posting for my soulmate event! I hope you all enjoy!

*gif not mine*

***** The first soul dream that you had was when you were very little. There was a boy sitting across from you, legs curled under him, and you moved to copy his position. "Oh," he said as he saw you, eyes bright as he looked you over. "You're my soulmate?" "I guess so." You tugged at the hem of your nightgown and looked at the boy curiously. "Are you nice?" "I try to be," he offered with a shrug. He looked to be a few years older than you, but not too much older. "My parents are raising me to be the best man I can be." He put too much emphasis on the word man, but it wasn't something you noticed at your young age. Instead you noticed that his hands were clenched in his lap, that he was wearing ratty plaid pajama bottoms and a white tshirt with a red blanket sewn to the shoulders. "We can't say our names in these dreams, can we?" He mouthed a word, his name most likely, and you shook your head. That was one thing you had always been taught, that names were forbidden in the soul dreams. "Well then how about a letter? C." "C? Like cat?" The boy nodded and you smiled. "C. You're weird." The boy laughed, looked surprised afterwards, and then scooted a little closer to you. "What about you? Give me a letter?" "My letter is--" But you were jerked from the dream as your father knocked on your bedroom door to tell you it was time to get up. You thought about the boy, C, and wondered if you'd ever get to meet him. When you stumbled out of your bedroom, rubbing your eyes, you watched your parents move around comfortably in the kitchen and promised yourself that you'd meet your soulmate one day. The world was only so big. You'd find him. ------ The soul dreams were few and far between. They picked up as you got older, but were still seldom enough that you noticed C had had a growth spurt at some point. His bright blue eyes moved over you, a smile stretching over his lips. It had been almost a year since the last dream. "You've gotten taller," he said, using the first letter of your name that you had finally been able to give him. You knew that his name started with C-L, but hadn't gotten a third letter yet. "That happens as you get older." You smiled, looking down at your sleep shorts. "You've gotten taller too." He stood up, walking over to you and then kneeling down beside you. He always moved closer, always tried to get as close as he could. You wouldn't be able to touch for a while yet, but that didn't stop him from reaching out as if he was going to touch your hand. "It's time for a new letter isn't it? A." He looked at you expectantly and you opened your mouth, giving him the next letter of your name as well. He smiled as he repeated it with the first letter as well. "C-L-A," you said with a hum. "Probably not Clarence, right?" He laughed and you looked down at your hands, wracking your brain for another name with those letters. One came to you and you looked up expectantly as you voiced it. "Clark?" "Yes!" He laughed and then sat down beside you, reaching out and letting his hand hover over yours. "Now what's yours? You should be able to say it now." "Y/N," you said with a laugh. He repeated it and then laughed, leaning back a bit. Slowly his laugh faded and he looked up at the darkness that surrounded the two of you. "I don't want to wake up." That was fairly defeatist. He had made the comment, or one similar, once before. You shifted close enough that if you could, your knee would be touching his. Instead it was like pins and needles. "Do you need to talk about it?" At his confused look, you shrugged and looked away. "Aren't soulmates supposed to be there for each other? Even in the beginning?" "I guess so." He scuffed his palm against the ground although you knew he wouldn't feel anything. The soul dreams took place in a room that didn't exist. "Sometimes I think I'm so different that I'll never... never fit in." "You aren't that different though," you said softly. "If you were, you wouldn't have a soulmate." Clark smiled and ducked his head. His form shuddered a bit, a sure sign that he was starting to wake up. He stood up and dusted off his pajama pants. "I have a field trip today. Maybe something good will happen." "Maybe so," you said encouragingly. Both of you were very wrong, for different reasons. A few nights later you saw Clark again and without telling you everything, he did tell you that there had been an accident and his dad gave him some difficult news. Even though he was obviously upset, you knew you needed to tell someone, so you informed him that your parents were divorcing. It wasn't unheard of, soulmates not working out. Clark seemed astonished but supportive, as a soulmate should be. You thought about your parents and how you hadn't realized they were unhappy, but before you could talk to Clark about it, your form shuddered and then you were awake. ------ The dreams started to come more often, which wasn't saying much. It turned into a few times a year, giving both of you just enough of a connection that you missed him when you were awake. Having a soulmate didn't stop you from dating. You didn't know if Clark dated or not, assumed he probably did because he was growing into an attractive young man, but it wasn't taboo these days to date before you met your soulmate. You had fallen asleep at the house of the guy you were currently seeing when you had another soul dream. Clark was sitting in the middle of the dark room, wearing just basketball shorts. He didn't even seem to notice that he was in the dream until you settled down next to him. "Y/N," he said happily, eyes averting when he realized you were just in a sports bra and some cloth shorts. "Oh, sorry." "It's okay," you said as you got comfortable. You still couldn't touch him, but the feeling you got when you tried was no longer pins and needles. Now it was almost some sort of warmth. That meant it wasn't long before you'd be able to feel him. "It's been a while this time." "Yeah, a few months. What are you up to?" "Not much, taking some summer classes at the community college. I start there next semester you know." You rubbed a hand over your arm and decided to just bite the bullet. "I'm actually at the dorms right now. A guy offered for me to stay with him instead of going home since the class got out late tonight." Clark froze, looking over at you uncomfortably. You were testing the waters, wanted to know where he sat on the topic of dating outside of soulmates. His face answered that enough for you. "That's... ahem. What's he majoring in?" His eyebrows drew together after he asked and you knew that he realized that was a strange question. You shrugged, rubbing your hand over your legs as you pulled them up to your chest. "He wants to be a lawyer, wants to help people." Clark's entire face twitched and he quickly stood up. You watched him pace a little, trying not to stare at the muscles of his back... or his abs. There was a lot that you were trying not to stare at. He spun around to look at you, cocking his head to the side a bit, and you noticed a distinctly upset vibe on him. "That's what you're interested in? Guys like that? I mean, I grew up on a farm. What do I know about..." He gestured helplessly and you stood up, moving over to him. Before you could reach out, he shook his head and closed his eyes. "I'm going to wake up now. I'll... see you later." And then he was gone. You existed in the soul dream for a moment longer before you shot awake too. Awake, you looked over at the guy in the bed with you and sighed, sliding out of the bed and moving to grab your things. A few days later, you slid into the dream once more. It was sooner than expected, usually it was at least weeks later, but when you got there, you were frozen. You had wanted to put Clark at ease the next time you saw him, tell him that you were still waiting for him, but you saw him huddled on the floor and crying. Quickly you moved to him, grasping his face until he looked up at you. You didn't even notice until later when you were awake that you felt warm skin under your palms, not just the warmth of the connection. You pulled him into a hug while he cried, hands fisted on your hips. "He's gone," he cried, body wracking with sobs. "I could have saved him but..." You let him tell you the truth about himself, about what he was and what he could do. You let him mourn his father and the fact that he hated feeling helpless. And then you tilted his face up to yours and smiled down at him, telling him that it was never too late to make his dad proud. ------ The next few years were different. The soul dreams happened more often and you were grateful for it. The two of you kept in touch that way, as well as exchanged phone numbers. Clark disappeared for large chunks of time so the dreams were the only ways you could reach him. He told you about all that he'd seen, all that he'd done. He moved around the country, the continent, hiding who he was. He was a drifter, never stayed in one place very long. And the night that the others came, you felt more lost than ever. You went to sleep that night praying that Clark would be there, but it was empty. Suddenly people knew aliens existed, knew that there was one somewhere waiting. The military admitted to trading the alien over and you cried yourself to sleep, worried that you'd never get the chance to meet your soulmate now. In the soul dream, you could feel an echo of the man you'd fallen in love with. He was still alive somewhere, but not able to reach you. "Clark?" You called his name in the empty space and closed your eyes, listening for any kind of response. Instead you were woken up by your neighbor banging on your door. Metropolis was being attacked. You lived close, although not exactly in city limits, so all of you went to one of the apartments and watched the news coverage. As the news anchors mentioned Superman and his fight to save the city, the world, you felt tears gather in your eyes. He was still alive. ------ "I'm coming," you called as your doorbell rang. You put the groceries down and headed over to the door, pulling it open. Your smile started to grow as you recognized the man standing in front of you. "I didn't want to live another day in a dream." Clark had on a pair of glasses you knew he didn't need, a messenger bag hanging over his shoulder. You reached out, letting your fingers touch his jaw lightly. He smiled and grabbed your waist, pulling you into a kiss that you felt down to your toes. This was better than you could have ever dreamed.

#clark kent #clark kent x reader #clark kent imagine #superman x reader #superman imagine #my writing #soulmate event

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mayonara · 6 years

Note

Can you do another omega Dick please? I love your ABO stories so much

Thank you! Honestly I love Omega Dick and there’s not enough out there SO, what do I do to get my fix? I write it (okay but I would LOVE to read others as well). Anyways, I hope you enjoy this one! hurt/comfort :3

The door slammed opened, banging against the wall and avery distraught Jason stormed inside. He kicked the door shut in a fuss andcursed aloud. “Fuck!”

The night had been harsh and progressively worsened whenhe encountered the Bat, Bruce. Bruce who proceeded to lecture him on failinghis job of catching the criminal who’d been kidnapping omega kids the pastweek. He almost had him in his grasp, was so close, but at the very lastmoment, the chance slipped through his fingers and he was outsmarted.

The building had blown and he was trapped behind a hallas the perpetrator escaped. He couldn’t get through. It’s not like he wasSuperman and could just bust through a giant pile of rocks. No. Instead he hadto be rescued by Bruce and he sure wasn’t happy about that fact.

It didn’t help that Bruce chastised him for letting theman get away and then told him to go home, left in a fit of hurry to chaseafter the criminal.

One thing he hated more than letting his target outsmarthim was Bruce yelling at him for doing a poor job. Which wasn’t true. He haddone an excellent job up until the very last moment. Besides, what could he dowhen a bunch of rocks were about to crush him to a pulp? Run through it andrisk getting squashed? Or back the fuck off and wait another chance.

He chose to wait.

Jason was so irritated, so angry, he hadn’t realized thatDick had come into the room until he caught him staring at him. The omega wasdressed in his pajama bottoms and his all-time favorite red hoodie. His hairwas a mess, sticking up in all ways and his eyes were wide awake but shadowedwith dark circles. He must have been sleeping since it was late at night. Itwas after all his night off.

“What’s wrong?” Dick asked in a voice filled withconcern. “Are you okay?” he questioned and looked as if he wanted to take astep forward, but was hesitating. Jason was too blinded by his rage to see thathis omega was frightened. And if he just took a moment to smell the distresspermeating off of him, he would have seen how much he was scaring him off.

But his mind was too clouded with the frustration of anight’s failure and Bruce’s critique that he couldn’t think about anything elsebut that. He was oozing with rage, anger seeping into the air and masking thescent of distress coming off of Dick.

“Jason?” Dick tried again in a soft murmur.

“Fine,” hegrowled, hissing violently at his omega.

Dick flinched from the reaction, taking a step back. Fearfound its way into his blue eyes and his complexion immediately paled, colordraining from his face. But Jason didn’t see any of that.

Jason exhaled loudly and ran a hand frustratingly throughhis hair. He needed to calm down but he just couldn’t. It was warping his mind,the fire burning wildly within him. He kicked his shoes off and it flew,hitting the wall and collapsed onto the pile of shoes gathered near the door.

Dick stood there quietly, watching with careful eyes asJason breathed noisily, huffing and puffing. Jason was completely trapped in histhoughts and blinded by the rest of his surroundings.

Jason felt something vibrating in his jacket pocket androughly dug inside to pull out his phone. It was Bruce.

“Fucking hell!” Jason grumbled. He debated on not pickingup the phone, but then changed his mind and did just so he could yell at Bruce.“The fuck you want?” His voice was laced with venom as he spoke into the phone.

A moment of silence passed through as neither said a wordbefore Bruce finally decided to speak. Probably had to take a moment to take inthe anger in Jason. “I caught him.”

“Oh yeah? Good for you then.”

And then suddenly, he blurted something that Jason didn’texpect. “…I’m sorry,” Bruce mumbled.

Well shit.Bruce was apologizing to him? To him of all people? Actually apologizing for anerror he made? Wasn’t usually something he did, but it was a weak delivery. Hedecided to play dumb and pretend he heard nothing. “Excuse me? I couldn’t quitehear that.”

There was a sigh from the other side of the phone. “Isaid I’m sorry. You did a good job.”

“And…?” Jason prompted, wanting more from his apology. Ifhe was going to give it, then he wanted to extract all that he could.

There was another awkward pause. Bruce probablycollecting himself or preparing some sort of half-assed answer.

“And for blaming you when it wasn’t your fault.”

He suppose he’ll take that for now. It helped to diffuseaway his anger, easing his emotions back to a calm. “Damn right,” Jason said.

“Yes, well. That’s all I wanted to say.”

“Great. Next time remember to not let your anger takeover.”

All he received was an unhappy grunt and then the linewent dead. Jason snickered in triumphant and slipped the phone back into hispockets. He felt so much better now, like a weight had been lifted from hisshoulders. Now he could just shower and relax, cuddling with his lovely Di—

Wait. Dick.

Jason whipped his head in the direction he last saw Dickand found that he was gone. Swiftly, he glanced around the room in search ofhim, but found nothing. Strange, he was just here. Maybe he went back to theroom.

The moment he took a step forward to head towards theirshared bedroom, a scent flew into his nose as he sucked in a deep breath. Hechoked from how thick the smell was and noticed that it was a sign of distress.Dick’s distress and suddenly, he realized his error.

“Fuck!”

Jason strode down the hallway, following the trail leftbehind and it took him to where he thought Dick was hiding, the bedroom. Excepthe wasn’t exactly in the bedroom. Atleast not anywhere Jason could see him.

He breathed in once more, drawing in a large breath andsniffed the air. The omega was definitely in the room, but where? He needed tofind out.

It wasn’t actually too hard since there wasn’t anywherehe could hide without being seen…except for the closet.

“Dick?” Jason called and immediately heard movement frombehind the closet door.

He sighed realizing that was where he was hiding andwalked towards the closet, standing before it. “You in there?”

Though there was no answer he could definitely smell hisomega hidden behind it. “Hey…?” Helowered his voice softly in hopes of soothing away his distress. It wasstinking up the room and continually growing. “Can I open the door?”

Jason waited a brief moment for Dick to reply and heard aknock, a sign that it was fine. Slowly, he curled his hands around the knobsand pulled it open. There he found his omega sitting on the ground, kneespulled to his chest, arms wrapped firmly around his legs and face hidden in hisknees.

Unconsciously, Jason started releasing calming alphapheromones to wash away Dick’s distress. He crouched down to the omega’s leveland slowly inched towards him, kneeling right before Dick. Gently and ever socarefully, he touched Dick, placing a hand on top of his arm. “What’s wrong?”

Dick drew in a shaky breath and slowly lifted his head.Those vivid blue eyes of his were glossed over in fear and somethingelse—something he couldn’t quite pinpoint. He appeared frightened, of what, hewasn’t sure. But the longer he gazed into his omega’s eyes, he realized thatDick was afraid of him.

“…Dick?” Jason asked in concern, his voice soft andgentle to coax Dick out of his daze.

Dick didn’t reply, but fluttered his eyelids shut,breathing in and out slowly. As time passed, the denseness of his smell thinnedout and Dick had calmed down just a bit. But whatever was bothering him wasstill clearly there.

Jason’s hand hovered in the air, wanting to pull Dickinto an embrace but was hesitant because of the look he’d given him. He wasn’tsure what the matter was, but clearly his earlier outburst must have frightenedhim. It’s not like he was mad at Dick and he wasn’t about to take it out on—

Suddenly, it dawned on him, opening his eyes to thereason why Dick was so distressed. He should have realized this sooner.

“Ah, Dick. You know I won’t hurt you,” Jason murmured andtenderly threaded his hand through his hair softly. From the touch, Dickimmediately sighed and nuzzled into the touch, whimpering for more.

“I know,” he whispered.

“Then what happened?”

“I—“ he huffed and teared his eyes open, lifting his headslightly to stare at his alpha. “I don’t know. Your anger, it kind of got tome. And it, I don’t know. You were yelling. I know it wasn’t at me, but it felt like it and I—“ hewheezed, struggling to finish his explanation.

Jason plopped down on his bottom and wrapped his handaround his wrist, pulling him forward to gather him in his arms. Dick climbedonto Jason’s lap and leaned his side against his chest, resting his head in thecrook of his shoulder while he burrowed his face deeper into Jason’s hoodie. Hesucked in a breath, taking in his alpha’s scent and that seemed to have donethe trick. The omega had relaxed, his sweet scent gradually returning.

Jason wrapped his arms securely around his waist, holdinghim close and kissing his hair. “I was mad at Bruce. I was—I had a bad night.”

“…Okay.”

“I didn’t mean to yell. I wasn’t—god Dick. I would never hurt you.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t—don’t just say okay. I’m serious. I—I would never,” Jason hitched a breath as he saidthat, could feel his hands trembling from the mere thought of him ever hurtingDick.

“I know,” Dickmurmured and lifted his head. Gingerly, he brushed the tip of his fingersagainst his cheek and cupped his face. “Believe me, I know. I just—I remembered. And it kind of frightenedme. I—the trauma is hard to get rid of.”

Jason nodded, knowing full well about how traumas worked.He understood what Dick was going through and he couldn’t blame him. No, hecould never blame him for being a victim to abusive relationships.

“I get it. I have one too you know. But I would never ever hurt you. No matter how angry I am.And even if I was angry at you, it would never be to this extent. I just—god,” Jason exhaled and desperatelykissed Dick. “Never,” he whispered and pressed their foreheads together. “Iknow what you’ve been through. And I—fuck, it pisses me off.”

Whenever he thought about it, about the abuse he had toreceive from the alpha he’d dated, he almost wanted to go find her and killher. She was an alpha who had manipulated Dick into being in a relationshipwith her. And then abused him, making him submit to her every need. It’s not asif Dick wasn’t strong enough, he was. It was just, mentally, it didn’t help. At the time, his mind was in a bad placeand she strung him along, feeding him lies and using him as she liked. Forsexual pleasure, for an anger outlet. Anything and it hurt Dick. It scarred himto the point that any other relationship he’d been in had all been with abusivepartners, alphas that treated their partners like trash.

Jason would have never found out if he hadn’t attemptedto woo Dick. Part of him had wondered why Dick was single for so long, but hedismissed that thought that maybe Dick just didn’t find anyone else. So he tooka chance and tried to get Dick to go out with him. It took so much effort, somuch time for him to say yes and the reason for his reluctance didn’t occur tohim until they started dating. Why Dick was so hesitant, so afraid and alwaysstared at him with eyes of fear.

It just made so much sense when he revealed all thatinformation to him. But it made Jason’s feelings even firmer, his desire ofwanting to protect Dick growing. Not because he was an omega. Never that. Itwas because he loved him and he couldn’t bear to know the mistreatment he’dreceived. Dick was—he was too kind. Too beautiful to be treated in such a wayjust because he was an omega. Just because an alpha could make him easilysubmit due to his caste.

A frustrated sigh slipped between his lips and he cradledhis omega in his arms, holding him close and peppering him with gentle kisses.“I’m sorry,” he apologized.

Dick shook his head and sniffled a little. “No. I’m sorryfor overreacting.”

“It was justified. I let my anger get the best of me.”

“But I shouldn’t be scared of you. I should have helpedyou calm down. I—I could have.”

“It’s okay. I calmed down.”

“Jason…”

“It’s all good Dick,” Jason said with a soft smile.“I—I’ll beware to control my anger next time so I don’t scare you off, okay?”

The fear was finally wiped from his face and a smilereplaced it. “Yeah. Okay. And I’ll try to help you out next time when you do.Remember that—that you’re not like them.”

“Nope. Never. Fuck those alphas,” Jason cursed, hissing atthe thought of them even though he’d never met them. Though if he ever did,well, they wouldn’t be alive for much longer. In this type of world, prejudicewas everywhere but even then, Jason didn’t care because fuck it all.

All that mattered was that Dick was safe and the omegawas his. They hadn’t yet mated since Dick had made him promise not to until hewas ready. But when that day came, where he could claim him as his own, his andonly his, it would be all worth it.

“Bed?” Jason offered because he was beginning to feelcramped in this tight closet space. Not to mention all the clothes hangingabove them and resting atop their heads. He could feel his leg beginning tofall asleep.

“Yeah. I just want to cuddle with you,” Dick admitted andJason nodded his head in agreement. He shook off the numbness in his leg andgave it a few seconds before he securely wrapped his arms around Dick andhoisted him up. Carefully, he cared him the short distance to the bed and laidhim down gently.

Jason then quickly undressed, shedding off all his armorand the Red Hood uniform before he crawled in bed, getting underneath thecovers. Dick automatically rolled close to his side, pressing in as close as hecould until their skins were flush against one another. Their limbs becametangled as they tossed and turned to get into a comfortable position for themto hold each other on their sides.

Dick leaned in and curled himself to perfectly fit intothe curve of Jason’s body like a puzzle piece. With his head resting againsthis chest, he murmured three little words which was returned tenfold with asqueeze around his mid and a passionate kiss to his lips.

#JayDick #ABO #Omegaverse #prompt fill #my writing #Dick Grayson #Jason Todd #Omega Dick #Alpha Jason

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chaoticquips · 7 years

Text

In a Little While

...this hurt will hurt no more

Inspired by this adorable picture by @laquilasse so please! Check out their art if you love and worship Dick Grayson, you won’t be disappointed!

(This ended up being a lot longer than I thought, whoa)

Dick hadn’t been at the manor very long when he discovered who Bruce really was, in the shadows of the night. He hadn’t been Robin for very longer either when he still felt he could get kicked out of the manor for doing something Bruce didn’t like.

So he worked hard. He trained hard. He acted polite when socialites called him names behind his back (and to his face). He tried to please the man he knew as a mentor and being Robin filled him with joy. The thought of all of that being taken away... he couldn’t risk it. He couldn’t lose his... family again.

He may have known a side of Bruce no one else knew about, but the hole his late parents left still rotted in his chest. Bruce was a kind man, but nowhere near father material; Batman was coldhearted and shook criminals to their cores, nothing like the superheroes he had seen in newspapers during his time with the circus. There was something missing that Dick wasn’t seeing.

Besides, he was absolutely nothing like Superman.

He remembered seeing Superman for the first time when he was just a little kid. He had nearly fallen off his chair in the mess hall when his father read to him the headline; “Superman, the Flying Miracle of Metropolis!” and had shown him a picture of a broad fellow flying through sunny Metropolis skies.

A man who could fly! A reality that made his heart sing and flutter imagining it... flying through clear blue skies with wind rippling through his hair... and a cape! He’d have one, of course. Cold winds stinging his eyes and laughter bubbling out of his chest as he’d swoop and sweep through the air. It felt magical. He spent the rest of that afternoon practicing on the trapeze, living a day dream.

He had cut out the article and picture and kept them in a safe spot in the family trailer. It ended up being one of the few things he had brought with him to Wayne Manor after the incident.

“So, you like superheroes?” Bruce had asked, trying to distract the child on the ride home from the funeral. It hadn’t been easy for him, and he had brought the article with him for solace and comfort as he watched his parents lowered into the ground. It burned in his pocket through the ceremony, just like his heart had.

“Mm hm.” He had sniffled, wiping his eyes on the sleeves of the suit nicer than anything his parents had ever owned. He felt bad, but wetting the article would have upset him more. Bruce leaned over to hand him his personal handkerchief.

“Which one is your favorite?” He asked.

“...Superman.” Dick fingered the worn edges of the picture of the Man of Steel. He missed the look on Bruce’s face, and ignored the strain in his voice when he changed the subject. He was too busy focused on why the world was crumbling around him and the ache in his heart.

A few weeks later, he was Robin and hadn’t thought about the conversation since. He flew through the air between buildings and whooped and hollered until his curfew feeling the ache lessen just a bit.

Now he was on edge, having messed up on patrol. He hit a thug wrong and broke his leg, sending him into shock and rendering him a useless witness that Batman couldn’t get information out of.

“I’m sorry.” He had whispered when he had seen the look on the other man’s face. This is it for me, He had thought, He’ll take Robin away and I’ll never fly again.

The normal silence in the Batmobile felt cold and deafening on the ride back to the cave. Robin tried not to show his shame but his guilt was nearly palpable anyway. Batman had been furious and was still seething, knuckles gripping the steering wheel with more force than necessary.

He fiddled with the edge of his cape, hands in his lap, head bent. He would accept his punishment like the good boy he was. He knew he had done badly tonight. If he’s lenient, perhaps he’ll only take Robin away, He thought sadly as they pulled into the heart of the cave. Batman got out of the car and strode over to the computer.

“Hit the showers.” The voice echoed through the cave as Robin peeled off his mask. He hoped his eyes weren’t as red as he felt they were.

“Yes sir.” He managed to say before hurrying over to the showers. He trudged up the cave stairs when he was finished, Batman still at the computers.

If Alfred noticed his puffy eyes when he served him dinner he said nothing, but had given Dick a chilled towel with his dessert. He pressed it to his left eye as he ate with his right hand, ice cream sundae feeling sick and gummy in his mouth. He stopped to press it to his other eye and got off his chair, handing the towel back to Alfred.

“Feeling ill, Master Dick?” He hadn’t eaten much, appetite swallowed by guilt.

“Something like that.” He shrugged. By the time he got to bed he was rubbing furiously at his eyes again, trying to shove back the memory of hitting that thug, but tears welled up and fell down his cheeks and onto the cotton pillows anyway.

He didn’t come out of his room the next day and that night he hadn’t expected Bruce to let him out again, so he didn’t prepare. The time came for patrol and he laid in his bed, wallowing. By the time he got to the cave, the Bat, the suit and his car were gone. He bit his lip and sat down on the cave steps, berating himself.

Stop being stupid, he thought to himself, Batman doesn’t need a kid dragging him down.

Alfred had found him not even twenty minutes later and brought him back up to his bedroom, no dinner at his request. The man left a sandwich on his nightstand anyway.

He stared at the ceiling for a long, long while and was startled when he was woken up by Alfred. He hadn’t even noticed he’d fallen asleep.

Alfred placed a glass of water next to the untouched sandwich on his nightstand. “Master Bruce has requested your presence... downstairs. Go and get yourself cleaned up proper, Master Dick.” The man had a knowing look in his eyes as he left the room. Curious, Dick picked at the sandwich to soothe his gurgling stomach, drank half the water, and changed out of his pajamas before he left his bedroom. He still wasn’t that comfortable around Bruce yet.

Padding softly down the halls he yawned, rubbing at his swollen eyes. He hated crying, it made him feel like a little kid.

Duh, the nine-year old thought. Dick was generally a happy little boy, and his recent sadness had seemed to bring the whole manor up an ominous peg. Bad weather and wind rattled the windows in the old building, shifted the house and made her creak as she settled her old bones, but Dick didn’t mind it nearly as much as he had the first night.

He went to the infamous, secret entrance of the Batcave and let himself in, cold cave floor seeping through his socks as he stepped down. He didn’t let go of the railing or look up from the slick stairs until he reached the bottom-

And nearly fainted on the spot.

There, sitting at the Batcomputer was presumably Batman in all his dark glory glaring at the screens in front of him like he always did and next to him was...

“Superman.” He let out a breathless whisper. It echoed quietly throughout the cave but Dick figured the man himself would hear him regardless.

Said man turned to look at him and smiled. Dick felt his heart leap. It wasn’t a dream- that’s really Superman!

“Hello! You must be Robin.” He paused, taking Dick’s hesitance for suspicion. “I’ve heard a lot about you, you know. ” Batman turned his head to look at the boy and, with embarrassment, Dick realized his cowl was still up.

Superman probably doesn’t know his identity! He thought miserably, And everyone and their mother knows who I am these days...

“Robin?” He’d been quiet too long. He almost jumped realizing it was Batman who had spoken.

“Master Dick may be overwhelmed.” Alfred supplied, stepping out of the shadows, a tray full of tea in his hands. “It’s not everyday he gets to meet his favorite superhero.” Dick blushed with embarrassment. Alfred had been driving the car during that conversation.

“Favorite, huh? That’s funny, Bats here thinks-”

“The information you gave me leads to nothing but dead ends, Superman.” Batman’s voice cut through the conversation. Superman turned to look at the screens.

“What? But right here it said...” As Superman trailed off, Dick was reeling. Any and all sadness from the previous day had all but vanished in place of astonishment.

“Alfred?”

“Yes, Master Dick?”

“Is... is that really?”

“Indeed. He’s been looking forward to meeting you, from what I hear.”

What! Dick’s head rattled. That was... incredible.

“Really? But why me?” He asked Alfred incredulously.

“From what I know, the rest of the League has been waiting for a chance to meet the child who softened the Bat.”

“...Huh?” The rest of... the Justice League?! ‘Softened the Bat’??

“Master Bruce is extremely... guarded, as you may know. Especially with his colleagues. They were surprised to hear he adopted a child and have been relentless.”

“A...About me?” He didn’t think he was that special. Huh.

“It’s not everyday a boy such as yourself works with a man such as Master Bruce, after all. It’s taken years for Superman to even be let onto the secret and into the cave as I recall.”

Years! Dick had found the entrance to the cave within his first month of living with Bruce and, maybe begrudgingly, Bruce had allowed him to join his expedition as soon as possible.

Alfred handed him the tray of tea and gently pushed him towards the other two men before he headed back to the Manor. Dick, now faced with approaching the men trembled in nervous excitement.

Oh my god. I’m gonna meet Superman. He completely disregarded the fact he had talked to the man moments ago and made his way over to the computer console.

Superman immediately turned to look at the boy and smiled again as he set the tray down.

“Thank you.” He took a cup of tea.

“No problem.” Dick said, staring up in awe at the man before him.

“So, how old are-”

“Can you really fly?!” He blurted, eyes wide as he took in the S symbol on his chest, the cape, the curl in his hair, he looked so much more fun when he wasn’t printed black and white.

Superman blinked, chuckled a little and floated a few inches off the ground. He circled Dick, who swiveled to follow his movements with his mouth agape.

It’s true, he can fly, he can really really fly...

“Whoa.” He landed in front of Dick, smile still blazing. He suddenly turned to Batman.

“How much longer do you think this will take?”

“...Maybe an hour.” He said, sorting through information, “Maybe longer.”

“Well, in that case,” He finished off his tea with an air of satisfaction and turned to Dick, “Maybe Dickie would like to go for a ride?”

“Really?!” He felt his chest swell and he bounced on his feet. Dickie!

“No.”

“Oh come on, Bruce, we’ll be back before we-” Superman started but was cut off once more.

“No metas in Gotham, Clark. I mean it.” He narrowed his eyes in signature Bat style. Superman stared at him for a second.

His name’s Clark! Superman’s name is Clark!

“Fine. We’ll just have to go outside the city then. Get some shoes on and we’ll go, Dickie.”

I’M GONNA RIDE WITH SUPERMAN. OH MY GOD THIS IS THE GREATEST DAY OF MY LIFE. He nearly fell over himself scrambling to grab his spare shoes hidden in the cave. Superman chuckled as Batman gave him a cold stare.

“Nothing too high, you hear me?”

“You jump from sixty plus story buildings every night and so does he, I don’t see the difference.”

“Clark-”

“He’ll be fine, Bruce. You trust me, don’t you?”

“Unfortunately.” Dick stared at them in wonder as he slipped on his little shoes. He couldn’t believe this was happening, but he also noticed... Batman didn’t look nearly as mad as he did the day before. His shoulders weren’t tensed, and he was relaxed in his chair. But his excitement blinded him as he bounded, leaped and cartwheeled across the cave floor and ended up right at Superman’s feet.

“Tada!” Superman laughed and pulled Dick up with one arm (Whoa!) up onto his back and Dick slid his legs around him piggy-back style.

“We’ll be back in an hour.” Superman promised the bat.

“Bye, BatmAAAAAAAAN!” Dick shrieked as Superman tore out of the cave in furious speed, flying through the cave’s labyrinth with ease and practice before shooting into the night sky outside. Dick clung to his thick neck and marveled as the ground got farther and farther away from them.

“I’M FLYING! I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M FLYING!” He yelled into Superman’s back, his whole body quivering with giddy, unrestrained laughter. He felt the man’s chuckle rather than heard it as they headed away from the City of Crime.

He felt like it would never end. At some points he took Dick high enough to let him free fall and flip through the air before catching him and doing it again. His laughter fell through the sky with him.

When his laughing died down, he clung loosely to the man’s chest as he carried him through the skies.

“Tuckered out?” Superman asked him. He nodded his head against the man’s chest, feeling safe despite being tens of feet above the ground. He cradled the child back to Gotham and landed inconspicuously on top of a large building. They sat together on the ledge.

“Honestly, Bruce is crazy about the no meta rule here. No one can see me flying during nighttime, anyway.” Superman said. Dick checked the time and saw they had about twenty minutes before they needed to head back to the cave.

“Yeah, but most of our villains are metas and we... aren’t. Gothamites aren’t too trusting to start with anyway.” Dick said, leaning against Superman’s side.

“I suppose you’re right.” He patted Dick’s head as Dick closed his eyes. They listened to the hustle and bustle of Gotham’s nightlife for a minute before Superman spoke again.

“When Bruce and I got to the cave earlier, I could hear you sniffling in your room.” Dick felt the man’s thumb brush under his eye and he felt his heart sink a little. “Almost as though you were crying.” Dick opened his eyes and pulled away from the man. He trusted him, but...

“Is everything ok?” But would he tell Batman? Would he take him from Batman if he knew the truth? He bit his lip.

“Did Bruce do something?” His voice suddenly lacking warmth startled Dick.

“N-No! Bruce didn’t do anything! He’s... he’s a good man. It was my fault.” Dick said, looking at his lap.

“What was?” And out came the story, pouring from his mouth before he could stop it. Superman listened and when he was done, put a hand on Dick’s back and thought for a minute.

“Dick,” He started, glancing over at the boy, “You realize Bruce isn’t mad at you, right?”

“Huh? How couldn’t he be? I messed up.” He sniffled a little, he may have shed a few tears during his story.

“No, no. It’s ok to make mistakes, Dickie. Even the Bat knows that. I think he was more angry about me, actually.” He laughed for a second, then spotted Dick’s wildly confused face.

“See, that man was part of the case Bruce was working on that happened to be connected to something in Metropolis I’m working on. He isn’t much of a team player and was reluctant to call me. Like I said, he doesn’t like metas in Gotham.” He shook his head. Dick stared.

“What are you saying, exactly.”

“I’m saying Bruce probably feels emasculated when he asks for help, but he’s not mad at you, kiddo. You’re doing a great job, actually. And that’s saying something, considering how young you are.” Dick’s chest swelled with pride just as quickly as it deflated.

“But then, with patrol tonight, why didn’t-”

“He mentioned you might be feeling under the weather, but the man is as oblivious to emotional needs as anyone could be.” He shrugged. “He’s just as new to this parent thing as you are to being his kid.” Dick scrunched his nose a bit at the thought. Really, Bruce as a father? It’d never happen.

“How do you know all this?”

“Honestly, I like to think the man’s my best friend. But don’t tell him that, ok?”

“Why not?”

“He’ll ban me from the Cave.”

“...What a butt!” They laughed.

“Time to go, Dick.” Superman floated off the roof and took the child in his arms.

Superman is best friends with Batman, and he’s not mad at me at all... What a weird day... He thought, dozing in Superman’s arms.

“...a little tired.” He barely hears a little while later, but he feels himself being shifted out of Superman’s arms into another just as muscular set.

“I see.” There was a pause.

“I didn’t let him fall, if that’s what you’re thinking. Not a scratch on him.” Superman stated defensively.

“Uh huh.” Bruce’s voice rumbled in Dick’s ear. He ignored the rest of what they were saying in exchange, something about continuing the case tomorrow, for sleepily snuggling into the Bat’s chest, devoid of armor.

Another pause.

“He was really upset, you know.” Superman said quietly. “I talked to him... he thinks you’re upset with him about last night.”

“...” He felt Bruce shift him in his arms.

“Goodnight, Clark.” And he was whisked away upstairs.

And when Bruce put him in his bed he caught the man’s sleeve at the last second.

“Superman’s a cool guy.” Dick stated. He watched the way Bruce’s face twitched for a second in the dark.

“I suppose.”

“He’s really nice...” Dick trailed off, shoving his face into his pillow. It was quiet as he heard Bruce’f footsteps travel away from him.

Silence.

They came back. A hand rested on his shoulder and rubbed it gently.

“...You’re still learning, and that’s ok.” As lame as it was, he knew it was an apology. The man was too proud to say otherwise. He sprung out of bed to hug the man.

“You weren’t mad at me?” He asked into his shoulder.

“A little frustrated, but never mad, no.” He felt his body sag with relief.

“Ok. Goodnight, Bruce.”

“Goodnight, Dick.” And when he was sure Dick was asleep this time, he paused in the doorway and whispered sorry.

The next night, when Superman came to discuss the case with Batman once more, Dick burst from the stairs and ran to the two men.

“SUPERMAN!” He jumped and laughed as the man caught him and swung him around. Batman shook his head mentally, but Dick could almost see it. Almost.

“Hello, Dick! Feeling much better today?”

“Mmhm!” He continued to hug the man, squeezing.

“Dick, we need to leave.”

“Nuh uh! If you’re not gonna hug your friends, I’m gonna do it for you!” He clung to the man as he laughed, Batman shaking his head for real this time.

“You two are impossible.” He could see how differently Batman acted with Superman around. It was a lot different, actually. He found himself wanting to see this side of Bruce more. It seemed more human than the Bat persona.

More than the Bruce persona, too.

“If you say so, Batman.” Superman said, putting the child on the ground.

“When can I meet the rest of the League?” Dick asked him, “I drew a picture and I wanna show it to you guys!” He had spent the day drawing stick figure superheroes on a sheet of paper, trying to get them perfect. He was proud he remembered all seven members.

“Oh? Can I take a look now?” Superman raised an eyebrow.

“Sure, but only because you’re the best.” He said innocently, smiling at the disgruntled Bat.

He went to go grab it. He wondered what Bruce would think if he started calling Clark his uncle?

Years later, he pounced on the man’s back to give him a hug.

“The day you don’t jump on me is the day I know something’s wrong.”

“Hi, Uncle Clark!” Dick laughed. He started chatting with the man while sitting on his broad shoulders.

“How are things?” Clark asked.

“Same as always. You?”

“The other day I...” And it went on. Batman glanced at them over his shoulder.

“If you two are quite finished.” Taking one look at his scowling face, Dick smirked and rested his chin on Clark’s head.

“We’re not.” Clark laughed while Dick kept steady eyes with his father.

It might not have been noticeable to most, but Dick saw the slight curve to the other’s lips as he turned to continue his work. He focused back on Clark.

“As I was saying...”

End

#superheroes #fics #my work #dick grayson #robin #batman #superman #batfam #robin dick grayson #this was eating away in my head I had to make it real #it took me like a straight hour and a half #geez #im not good with emotions either bruce

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nowitsdarkfic · 4 years

Text

chapter twenty-eight (the streets of bostonia)

“It could've been, should've been worse than you would ever know. Well, the windshield was broken, but I love the fresh air ya know.” -”Dashboard”, Modest Mouse (forever another fave of mine)

December 31, 1988. Oswego, New York.

Lars has been staying with me and sleeping on my couch for the past three days, and every day he vowed to me to take me over to Music America in order to help me out with the record I want to make, but so far nothing has come from it. At one point, I told him it was supposed to snow the night before New Year's and I wanted us to skedaddle to Rochester before it got bad, and sure enough, it did right as we were getting dressed to leave. That was also the same afternoon Billy came over to check on us and joked about how we're the odd couple of Oswego, even though Lars is just here because he's got nowhere to go at the moment. Apparently his wife owns the house in Portland, he doesn't have the keys to his house in San Francisco, and there's a pretty nasty rainstorm down in New Orleans right now.

We are kind of like the odd couple now that I think about it. I'm the bronze skinned bachelor with the small pad and a lot in between the toned legs and I admit it: I'm a total slob. Lars is the white skinned once married man with three houses and is resident mad genius. I can only imagine what it must be like with James or Kirk for that matter.

I don't know if it's cabin fever talking, but when I woke up this morning, I felt like kicking ass to usher in the new year.

I sat on the edge of my bed and raised my arms over my head to stretch.

Now I'm striding into the living room in nothing more than my pajama bottoms to find Lars laying on the couch wrapped up in the blanket I lent him and staring up at the ceiling. It's at the point in which now he's growing a full Christmas sweater beard.

I loom before the arm of the couch and the soles of his feet with my hands on my hips.

“Superman?” he asks me.

“Come on, get dressed. We're going to Boston.”

“Why Boston?”

“Because that's where the Morlentes live. If you and I can't get our asses over to a studio like what you promised and teased for the past three days, we need to get over to Boston and do some snooping.”

He sighs an exasperated sigh.

“I don't feel like it, though.”

“Come on, man.” I drop my hands down by my sides. “Surely, we've got to uncover all the diversions and find the truth about Maya at some point. We've got all the clues with us—we've just gotta put it all together like the puzzle it is.”

“I admire your motivation, Joey, but I just can't bring myself to it at the moment. I can't muster the same passion I had for finding—for finding her—” He closes his eyes and shuffles his head against the pillow. He opens his eyes again and lifts his head to look at me. He raises an eyebrow at the sight of me.

“God, what a body.”

“Don't—Don't—” I wince at that and raise a hand to my face.

“No, I mean it. I envy you, Joey. Slim, so very attractive, living by yourself, and not getting all tangled up in the opposite sex.”

He fetches up another sigh and then he shakes his head.

“I've got nothing to lose,” he mutters under his breath.

“Your band?” I recall for him.

“I got fired.”

“F—what?!” I'm stunned by that.

“Yeah.” He sits upright as I gape at him and the exhausted look on his face.

“W-When?!” I can hardly speak.

“Last year. Right after we got home from the Puppets tour. James, Kirk, and Cliff had been planning on it for months in advance. Scott knew about it. Did he tell you?”

“No!”

“Yeah, well—” He sighs again. “I got fired. Unceremoniously, much like how you were.”

I shake my head at that. It's like I got punched in the stomach just now.

“That should explain why I've had nothing but time,” he continues. “Nothing but time to watch my marriage crumble and uncover the one true catalyst.”

“But the place down in New Orleans, though—”

He shakes his head and closes his eyes once again.

“That was something my dad co-signed me onto. I sold my place in San Francisco and used the money there to buy that little place. That's why it's in such a dilapidated building because rent down there is cheap. I knew my marriage was going to end and I would be kicked out of Portland, so I decided on a back up plan in the Big Easy, the place that's easy to find things. I didn't want to tell Marcia and Sonia about it because they love me, they don't want me to leave the Northwest. I am going to have to break it to them at some point, though.”

I put my hand on my hip and run my other hand through my black curls.

“God—I just—why didn't you tell me sooner?”

“I was going to. In Black Orchid. The day you and I crossed paths there. Remember when I told you I couldn't tell you why I was there? That was why. I couldn't talk about it yet because it was hard for me to stomach it at the time. So it took me a couple of more months and finding the truth about Maya and my marriage to come to terms with it. All that crying the other day really helped me, too.”

He leans forward over the blanket: I can see he had crossed his legs underneath there.

“Let me tell you, Joey—you think you know someone, and then you hear their eulogy. You just heard the eulogy of Lars Ulrich.”

“So you have nothing to lose now,” I conclude, fetching up a sigh myself.

“Correct a mundo. And what better timing, it being New Year's Eve and so soon after my birthday on top of that. I can begin the last year of the decade on a clean page.”

“Okay, well—let me put a shirt on and we'll take the arrowhead over to Boston.”

**********************************

We arrive in that same neighborhood, the same one I visited with Angeline back on Matt's birthday, although I think we're in a different place from the house because I don't recognize any of these dark stone buildings with their arches and brass chimneys and gutters. The smooth cold cobblestones underneath our feet are still glistening with ice from the melting of snow. Given it's broad daylight, I told Lars to put on something over his eyes to protect from the glare.

We're both in our heavy dark coats, our boots, and our scarves: I have on my mirrored sunglasses and he has on these little round ones with black and white speckled frames Barney had lent him. A couple of airline pilots, the both of us. He wrinkles his nose as he takes a glimpse around the block.

“What smells like potatoes?” he wonders aloud.

“That's what I told Angeline when we first came here last month. Like this whole entire neighborhood smells of potatoes. Now—follow me. At least, I think this is the right way.” I lead him down the sidewalk, which is peppered with dents and cracks, over to the corner; in front of us is a bakery with a darkened front window before a big display of all manner of baked goods. Neither of us have eaten yet. I hope we can make this quick here because I'll be starving soon enough. To the left of us stands a leather shop and a bank. To the right of us is a haberdasher and a tailor. All the buildings are made of three kinds of brick, all of it clean and nicely scrubbed from all the steam power here. Over our heads, the sky is pure white with the steam itself from the factories. I catch the bright glimmer of a drone off in the distance.

I see you, bastard. I don't trust you.

“Which way do we go?” he wonders aloud.

“God, I don't know—this way?”

We cross the cobblestones towards the bakery and the sight of all those baked goods out front. I feel my stomach churning at the sight of it. No, not yet, Joey.

We stride along the sidewalk past another bank and some little boutiques. The potato smell gives way to the sweet smell of molasses. There's a grinding of gears and a gushing sound right in front of us. Lars huddles closer to me.

“I don't like this,” he admits to me.

“It's alright—we'll find our way through here.”

At least I hope we do.

The sidewalk curves around a brick wall. Looming off in the distance through the white glare is a white sign with a brick red triangle right in the middle. We're heading right into a roundabout. Lucky for us, we're on foot. But still. Right after that roundabout is another roundabout. And another. And another with a big black round clock much like the one in Grand Central, with a pearly white face and thick black hands.

“What is this, some kind of gag?” Lars and I say at the same time as we reach the sixth roundabout and the sign is still big and looming in our view. We stop and take a glimpse at one another, and then we burst out laughing.

“The fact you and I thought of that at the same time!” I declare to him.

“I know, right?”

We keep laughing and then I catch a whiff of potatoes again to our right. I gesture down the sidewalk and we head on along another brick wall, a lower one this time and one that's holding back some kind of junkyard. At one point, I take a peek over the wall to find a myriad of those air conditioners Matt had told me about before. Amongst all of those are scraps of old metal, springs, screws, and all manner of things that the cybernetics coming our way are about to render obsolete. They're about to render us all obsolete. All of it.

Wait, why am I thinking like this?

I take a glimpse upward to find a drone lingering over our heads. That smooth metallic body shining so bright in the glare made by the morning sun.

Without a sound.

“You think that thing might drop a nuke on us?” Lars quips, out of breath from all the walking we've done. And I know he's looking at the drone, too.

“God, I hope not.”

“If it does—Joey—I hope it's a dud.”

“Well, if it's a dud, what would we do with something like that?”

“I don't know!”

“What do you mean, you don't know?”

“I really don't know! I'm not a nuclear scientist!”

“Shit—let's just cross the street. I mean, we can't keep walking the streets of Bostonia with it being this risky after all.”

“Hope there's no trucks with radioactive waste headed our way…”

“Or radioactive molasses for that matter! That's even worse!”

The soles of our boots clomp over the cobblestones to the other sidewalk. We round another corner and the fear of getting vaporized subsides. I turn my head to find the drone floating in the opposite direction.

I shake my head and take off my sunglasses for a second to rub my eyes.

“Wow, nice place,” Lars remarks. I keep my eyes shut as I put my shades back on. I lift my head to see the house, the house of Morlente.

“This is it,” I declare, holding my arms out as if beholding a masterpiece.

“This is it?”

“The house that Maya led Angeline and me back to.”

I guide him to the front of the yard. Since neither of us are a reporter from the New York Times, I gesture for Lars to duck down with me. Since it's breakfast time, I'm sure Mike and Maya are awake at the moment. Heaven help us if either of them look out either of those front windows at us. I lead him to the same side of the house I was that one night, except instead of ducking around the corner, we're down beneath the window.

“Okay, so what happened here when you and Angeline were here?” he starts in a hushed whisper.

“Maya let us inside and Michael gave us dinner. I went in around back and that's where he caught me but he was cordial, though. Which—I still find really weird.”

“Huh.” From behind his shades, I see him raise an eyebrow. “Okay, so what do we do?”

“I say we take a peek. Let's see how this household really is. If Maya really did lie to us that bad and that much, surely she must be lying about her home life, especially after what happened to Candace.”

Since we did a lot of walking, my heart is pounding inside of my chest. I let out a low whistle to calm it down.

And then I lift my head to the window sill for a peek inside.

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theliterateape · 6 years

Text

Of The Seven, Americans Suffer Sloth More Than the Other Six

By Don Hall

Navy Pier is a 3,300-foot long wooden and concrete phallic symbol on the Chicago shoreline of Lake Michigan. Like Daniel Burnham gave the White City a big cock pointed at Benton Harbor. As Municipal Pier #2 (Municipal Pier #1 was never built), Navy Pier was planned and built to serve as a mixed-purpose piece of public infrastructure.

In the 1920s, the Pier expanded to have its own streetcar line, a theater and an emergency room. It is estimated that an average of 3.2 million visitors frequented the Pier annually. This decade is sometimes called the Pier's "Golden Age."

During this time, the average American male visitor to the Pier:

• Walked an average of 37,000 steps per day

• Ate an average of 3,000 calories of unprocessed food per day

• Had a waistline that averaged 30 inches

• Spent more time reading and singing and playing cards and engaging in sports and civic activities than he did sitting on his ass.

I worked on Navy Pier at a radio station housed in the middle of the now most popular tourist destination in Chicago for a decade. I tried to get to work before the place opened to the public but lunchtime was a pageant of Americana — thousands of tourists from all over the country descending upon the place, walking, gawking and eating $9 churros, and buckets of soda.

During a typical lunch hour on the Pier, the average American male visitor:

• Walks an average of 3,000 steps per day.

• Eats an average 3,000 calories of mostly processed food per MEAL.

• Has a waistline that averages around 42 inches

• Spends more time sitting on his ass watching television, movies and staring at a computer screen than he does anything else.

Like the dystopian future foreseen in Pixar's WALL•E, Americans have become giant, slothful babies, riding around on electric wheelchairs because their leg muscles cannot hold up the monstrous sacks of suet they've become.

It could be argued that we Americans suffer from gluttony (and I'm sure that's part of it) but it starts with the sitting around all fucking day playing Grand Theft Auto V and going for the convenience of a sodium laced Hot Pocket or a delivered pizza than getting up and making some actual food. And we get fucking defensive about our right to sloth around in life like caged animals with no room to stretch.

How did we get here? The problem is obvious most in those places we visit on vacation. Those places we travel to to get away from our lives. Mount Rushmore. Cancun. Disneyworld. France. Places of leisure.

On the fifth of July, in the twelfth year of the New Century, I spent the day at Six Flags Great America. The name of the place ("Great America") is an incredible illustration of a strange, commerce-driven microcosm of the actual Great America. No car? You're not going to get there. Don't have approximately $250 per person for a day of Theme Parked frivolity? You're not welcome. It has borders loosely surrounded by gates and guards. It has areas defined by regional culture and each one has basically the same food and the same junk to buy — every shop looks different on the outside but sells almost exactly the same toys, tee-shirts, candy, refillable branded cups.

There is a specific form of classism at play with the Flash Pass: if you have an additional $35, or $80 or $140 to spend, you can bypass the long lines for the coolest rides with a device that lets you reserve your place and stroll past the rabble as they wait in the heat for their three minutes of thrills on the roller coasters.

Great America is America.

Everything is paved and over-branded and loud and colorful. Everything is just a bit too self-congratulatory and shameless in the naked attempt to separate people from their money by promising a quick high (from adrenaline or sugar or the fun of having someone guess your weight and perhaps winning a stuffed banana with a sombrero on it). And peppered everywhere in the park are huge yellow signs that declare:

"Smoking Outside of a Designated Smoking Area is Cause for Immediate Ejection from the Park WITHOUT A REFUND! NO WARNINGS!"

This was way back in the WayBack Machine when I smoked cigarettes rather than a pipe.

The areas designated for the despised smokers are all roughly 20 square feet, usually behind some building or tucked away in a corner and bordered by a thick blue line of paint that boxes in the area as if this blue line creates some sort of air barrier from the rest of the park

As I stood in the box, smoking a delicious American Spirit Light, I looked around at this larger box of America. I was marginalized because of my choice to smoke the "evil weed" and on the grounds that it is unhealthy for myself and those around me to do so. Yup. Smoking causes heart disease, cancer, loss of breath, and it's stinky.

From my box, however, I notice people eating giant wads of cotton candy, fried sugar dough, bags of cheese fries, pizza; I notice at least one in every three people is grossly overweight. They wash it all down with 32-ounce plastic tubs of Coke — the caloric intake of one of these buckets of sugar water eclipses that ingested by most children in Third World countries in a week. I notice people heavily walking in the blazing sun, their skin getting crispy and red, and skin cancer just waiting to develop. It's so hot, with the sun and the entire park basically a giant asphalt frying pan, that the only respite is the occasional misting machine, which spits out a cool but strangely antiseptic smelling water mist.

It's a giant cesspool of eminent heart attacks and cancer and people so heavy they need motorized scooters just to get from one ride to the next. The irony of requiring a little motorized bike to go from Superman: The Ride to Johnny Rockets to Vertical Velocity is so thick and impenetrable that it's no surprise that it takes being required to stand behind a painted line in public shame over my cigarette addiction for me to objectively take it all in.

Yes, Americans have some problems with unfocused Wrath. We’re a pretty Greedy lot as well. Lust — yup. Definitely a problem as we are seeing in the collision of Instagram Photos of 20 year olds in bikinis and the #MeToo era. I’ve practically made a case for Gluttony. The desolate swampland of social media has made Envy, once a twitch in your right eye, now a boil on your neck the size of a small child with a shitty attitude. And Pride? Holy shit are we one mess of dwindling self-esteem masquerading as pride in every Identity we can manufacture on a nearly daily basis.

But our deadliest sin in this septenary is Sloth.

Sloth is commonly defined as laziness but that is not the Deadly Sin. The deadly sin is that of spiritual or emotional apathy. And America is an entire country filled with apathy. In our search for things to be easier, for things to be faster and more convenient, we stopped giving a shit. Sloth is, simply put, no longer caring enough to put in the effort.

Why does a third of the polled population still belief Saddam Hussein was behind the attacks of 9/11? Intellectual sloth.

Why do we allow politicians (paid for by Big Oil) to ignore 97 percent of the scientific community when they scream at us that we're making the planet uninhabitable? Ideological sloth.

Why do we routinely eat too much, exercise too little and substitute Facebook, Twitter and PornHub for real human interaction? Because real interaction takes too much effort to even give a flying fuck about.

SLOTH is men watching other men brutalize women and saying nothing.

SLOTH is not knowing that The Affordable Care Act and Obamacare are the same thing.

SLOTH is wearing pajama bottoms to Target.

SLOTH is complaining about your smartphone data plan in front of a homeless man.

SLOTH is complacency in the face of annihilation.

Once complacency sets in, no civilization can survive it. And instead of Nero playing his fiddle as our Rome burns to the ground, we'll have the theme song to the Real Housewives of Go Fuck Yourself being played on an iPad.

#Seven Deadly Sins #sloth #Great America #Navy Pier

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survey1000 · 6 years

Text

76. Your life isn’t yours if you constantly care about what others think.

What’s the latest you’ve woken up? How about the earliest? The latest I think was almost noon, and the earliest was a bit after midnight I think.

In general, what has the weather been like? Is this good or bad for you? It’s been pretty muggy lately, which sucks because I work in a coffee shop that doesn’t have a working AC ...

Have you been out for a meal? Where did you go and what did you eat? Not for a bit, but I think the last time was Subway.

Have you been under the influence of alcohol/drugs? Yup.

Have you spent more of your time indoors or outdoors? Indoors.

What’s the most interesting day you’ve had? How about the most boring? Good question, I think the most interesting was my high school graduation, and the most boring would have to be any slow day at work.

What’s the earliest you’ve gone to bed? How about the latest? The earliest I would say was around 7pm and the latest was a bit after 2am.

Have you gone shopping for anything aside from groceries in the past week? Yeah, Thursday I went to the mall and got a few different makeup things, and then I went to Staples to buy more instax film.

Have you discovered any new bands or TV shows that you like? No not lately.

Have you finished a book, or are you currently reading one? I just finished one a few days ago, and I have quite a few on the go still lol.

What’s the most interesting thing that’s happened to you? Not many things really.

Who have you spoken to most on the phone/online/by text? My mom I would think lol.

Do you actually think it’s gross to talk about body functions? If you’re not my friend lol.

Would you rather sleep alone or next to your SO? Well I can really only say alone lol.

Are you trying to forget about something? Always.

Have you ever sent a love letter? Nope.

When you look up at the sky do you ever NOT see a plane or vapor trail? Rarely lol.

Have you dated someone of another race? No, but to be fair I’ve only been in one relationship before.

Do you wear any shoes with holes because you can’t give them up? Not at the moment, but I have done this plenty of times before lol.

When you go out to breakfast, what do you order? Depends on where I go, but something with eggs.

Have you ever had a job that required a uniform? Yeah, that’s where I work now lol.

What are you most envious of? People who can find happiness wherever they go.

Would you rather have coffee, cocoa, tea, or soda? Pop, and I’m not much of a pop drinker either lol.

When you walk into your best friend’s room, what do you smell? Idk, them I guess? Lol.

Have you ever purposely broken something that belonged to a sibling? I don’t think so, but I wouldn’t put it past me though lol.

Do you have any hipster friends? Nope.

Have you ever worked at the same place as your best friend? No.

Do you take days off from shaving when you can get away with it? Always lol.

Has anyone ever baked you cookies? Yeah.

Do you ever wear socks with holes in them? I have, but I throw them out as soon as I realize the hole.

Is there anything hanging on your bathroom walls? I don’t think so.

If your SO agreed, would you want an open relationship? Oh fuck no.

Have you ever slept with three people in the same bed? When? Why? Yes, it was at a sleepover when I was younger, when we could all fit on the same bed haha.

Does your family regularly eat sit down meals together? No, the only time is when we plan a supper for an event, like Christmas, Easter, a birthday, etc.

Have you ever used the change counting machine at a store or mall? I have no idea what that is lol.

How do you dress when you’re not at work Usually in a t-shirt or a tank top, with leggings.

Tell me about the shirt you’re wearing? Its black with the Superman logo on it, and its from the men’s section from Warehouse One lol.

What was the first thing you thought this morning? Fuck... I don’t wanna go to work lol.

Are you wearing shorts? Nope.

Ever had a boy best friend? Yeah when I was little.

Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? If I’m in a relationship with him, then yes.

Do your parents actually knock on your door before entering your room? No lol.

Do you ‘dress to impress’? Sometimes, depending on where I’m going.

Have you ever thought a man over 40 was attractive? Yeah.

Would you rather get cash or a gift card? Depending on what store the gift card is from, if its from the bookstore, then I’d rather have the gift card lol.

Would you prefer to date someone taller, shorter, or the same height as you? Same height or taller.

Can you honestly say you’re okay right now? No.

What time did you get up today? A little bit before 5:30am.

Where does most of your family live? Nova Scotia, Canada.

What can’t you wait for? Tomorrow at 2pm, so I can go to the gym, and not have to worry about work the next day.

Are you ticklish? Some places.

What brand of digital camera do you own? I don’t have one. The only actual camera I have is the Instax mini 9.

Have you ever seen a Broadway show in New York? Nope.

How long is your hair? Maybe an inch and a half past my shoulders.

Do you like facial hair on a guy? If it’s not long, I like scruff better than an actual beard lol.

Have you ever tried the cinnamon challenge? Nope, and never plan to lol.

How long would it take to walk to the nearest McDonald’s? Less than 20 minutes.

Do you get drunk every weekend? No, I wouldn’t be able to afford that lol.

What did you do today? I worked for eight hours, and planned to go to the gym after until I realized I had left my gym sneakers and pants at home ...

Are you listening to music right now? No surprisingly, I have the TV on in the background.

Your last ex died today, how would you feel? I mean I’m not heartless, I would feel upset, but we were only going out for less than a week, and it was five years ago so I’m definitely not close to him.

Do you like maxi dresses? Yeah, I have one but that’s the only one I’ve seen that I like on me.

Have any organic makeup? I don’t think I do.

Do you worry about guys thinking you’re hot? No, I know that they don’t think that way lol.

Are you healthy? Not as healthy as I should be lol.

Do you know anyone that used to be or is homeless? Not that I know of.

Does it always seem like you’re always buying stuff for friends? Not really.

Did you wear sunglasses today? No, its been cloudy all day.

What’s the next movie you’ll watch in theaters? Not sure.

If you straighten your hair, how long does it take? Anywhere between 15 to 25 minutes.

Does it annoy you when people can’t think of their own answers to questions on surveys and use yours? No lol, I don’t pay attention really.

How many people are you talking to online right now? None lol.

Are you currently wearing anything containing polyester? Probably.

Have you ever been to Comic-Con? No, but I would like to.

Do you have a commercial jingle stuck in your head? Nope.

Would you date someone 8 years older than you? He would have to treat me right, and we would both have to care about each other a lot. The oldest that I plan to go for is five years, but you never know.

Do you have a friend of the opposite sex you can talk to? Not really. I have guys that I consider friends, but not that close to talk about personal things.

Do you have a friend of the same sex you can talk to? Yeah.

Did you go out or stay in last night? Stayed in.

What does your last received text message say? ‘I’m here at Tim’s now’.

How old is the last person you texted? 37, she’s my Momma lol.

What do you want to get accomplished today/tonight? To get some good sleep.

You’re single, right? Yup lol.

Are you easy to make mad? If I’m in a cranky mood already, yes lol.

Have you ever punched a hole in the wall? Yeah like roughly seven years ago lol.

What are you doing right now? This and watching Forensic Files.

Do you smoke weed everyday? I had only smoked it twice and that was almost six years ago I think.

Are you wearing jeans, shorts, sweatpants, or pajamas? Leggings.

Do you like the dentist? Not really lol.

Do you like the snow? Yeah, as long as its not too much lol.

Where is your phone Beside me.

Would you rather date someone older than you or younger? Same age or older.

When was the last time you were told you were cute? I don’t really remember, maybe a few weeks ago?

Would you ever smile at a stranger? I do it all the time at work. The privileges of working in a coffee shop lol.

Do you button your shirt from the top or the bottom? Top.

Do you make collages often? No, its been a few years since I’ve made one.

How much have you changed in the last year or so? Not that much I don’t think.

Have you ever wished to erase something from your memory? What? A lot of things that I rather not speak of.

Do you keep things that most people would throw away? I don’t think so.

What is your favourite thing to wear when you feel like crap? Comfy clothes.

Do you look forward to going to sleep at night? Usually.

What was the last song you listened to? Nowhere Fast - Eminem.

Do you own an Etch-A-Sketch? I did when I was a kid!

What does your bedspread look like? Leopard print.

What colour is your suitcase? I don’t own one.

Are you any good at tongue twisters? Not really lo.

Do you wrap up warm in the cold weather? Always.

Do you care overly about other people? If I like them lol.

Do you still live with your parents? When are you planning to move out? Yeah, and I’m 20 and single so I can’t really afford to live on my own, and I at least want to be able to drive legally and have a car before I move out.

If you’ve moved out already, what age were you? -

Have you ever been told your aspirations are unrealistic? I don’t think so.

#survey

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