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#sorry i fucked up steph’s arm i’ll do better next time
oniomn · 4 months
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some npmd sketches!!
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The Cult Girl (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 13
Hello friends we have come to the end of Cult Girl. Thank you all for hyping me up throughout this story and giving me the confidence to actually post my work. Y/n and Hannibal throw a dinner party.
The sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the entire kitchen in that homey mid-morning glow. You were enjoying your coffee and scrolling through an article on your phone.
"Senator Hatch reportedly coughed up his late wife's toe on the floor of the precinct." You read out loud. "Huh. Wonder how that could have happened."
You side-eyed Hannibal, who was contentedly sharpening his knives. Placing a rather large meat cleaver to the side, he met your gaze. "I have my ways."
You finished off your coffee and brought the mug to the sink. "There was no way Theresa was going to survive that night, was there?"
"Clever girl." Hannibal praised.
"You were going to kill her if I didn't, were you?" You felt a smile coming on. "Did everything turn out as expected?"
"Darling, this all went much better than I could have ever hoped for." He smirked. "See, I had the whole evening mapped out. I was hoping you'd be the one to deliver justice and kill her, but I had to prepare for the possibility that you wouldn't."
You folded your arms and leaned against the island. "Is that why I was so sick that day?"
You could have sworn you saw some hesitation in Hannibal's face. Maybe even a touch of regret. "Yes. You needed an alibi. It was as easy as removing a single birth control pill from your packet. You'd see it was missing and think you'd already taken your medicine-"
"So I'd neglect to take my focus meds." You cut in. "Yeah, I knew something was off."
"By the end of the day, you'd be experiencing full withdrawal symptoms." Hannibal nodded. "I don't take any pleasure in upsetting the delicate balance of your brain chemistry, and for that I am sorry. I did what I had to."
"Yeah, don't ever do that again." You ordered, no disarming smile in sight. "I need those meds to function."
"I promise you, darling," Hannibal said, sincerely. "I would never keep you from being anything but your very best. I was just looking after you."
"I suppose now that all this is out in the open, you won't need to pull any shit like that again." You muttered. "But I'm still going to keep my pills at my apartment."
"That reminds me." He said. "Would you like to invite your roommates for dinner tonight? I've prepared a wonderful Spanish-inspired menu that's perfect for entertaining."
"I'd love for you to meet my friends, but, they all keep such weird hours I doubt they'll all be free tonight." You shrugged. "I'll give them a call though."
"Wonderful." He smiled. "You make arrangements while I prepare the kitchen."
You stepped into the office and called up Pilar. She answered within the minute.
"[F/N]!" She near shouted. "Holy fuck, how are you doing?"
"I'm actually doing..." you looked back into the kitchen, watching your beloved Hannibal in his element. "Really well."
"I heard about your cousin." Pilar cut in. "One down, two to go."
You snorted. "No fucking shit."
"Sorry, was that okay for me to say?" She apologized. "I know you said Theresa was a bitch, but it's your trauma and I-"
"No, you're fine." You laughed. "She was a bitch. Hey, do you have any plans tonight?"
"Uh, no. I don't think so." She answered. "Why?"
"Hannibal wants to invite you all for dinner tonight." You said with an audible smile. "Y'know, to celebrate the bitch's death."
"Yo! Steph!" Pilar shouted across the room. "Wake Randy up! We're having dinner at [F/N]'s rich boyfriend's house!"
You could make out Stephanie's voice in the background. "It's about damn time. We've been waiting for her to redistribute the wealth."
"She means thank you for the invitation." Pilar corrected.
"It's not like I had to twist his arm or anything. It was his idea." You chuckled. "He loves having guests. And excuses to dress up."
"Oh so we're getting fancy, huh?" Pilar's voice turned up in excitement.
"Hey [F/N]!" Randy snatched the phone from Pilar. "Text me the menu for tonight. My girlfriend'll steal a nice bottle of wine to pair. She's a pro, she works over at Cavatappi's wine and spirits."
"Much obliged, Randy." You said. "I'll see you guys at seven."
You returned to the kitchen with a smile. "They're coming."
"Well, we don’t have a moment to lose, then." Hannibal placed something wrapped in butcher paper on the counter. "Come now. Let me show you how to properly prepare a heart.
You and Hannibal spent the rest of the morning and the whole afternoon preparing a bountiful meal. You reveled in the irony of finally finding a space for Theresa in your life. That space just so happened to be on the stove.
Seven came far too quickly, but your friends were always a welcome sight. You greeted them at the door with hugs, Hannibal watching with stoic adoration.
"Guys, this is Hannibal Lecter, my partner." You introduced. "Hannibal, this is Pilar, Stephanie and Miranda."
"It is a pleasure to meet you, ladies." Hannibal greeted. “Please, make yourselves comfortable.”
"Here you go, Dr. Lecter." Randy handed him a bottle of wine. "Thank you for inviting us."
Hannibal examined the bottle. "Yes, this will pair quite nicely with our meal. Thank you very much. [F/N], could you show our guests to the dining room?"
You nodded and accepted the bottle, given the extra responsibility of pouring. You led your friends to the dining room and wasted no time distributing the alcohol.
"A toast." Stephanie rose her glass. "Too many of history's worst have had the privilege of dying on their own terms. Today, we celebrate the death of one who didn't: Theresa [L/N]."
"She will join her sisters Nancy Reagan and Madame Nhu in hell tonight." You concurred, tapping your glasses together with a series of satisfying clinks.
"Okay, you need to spill." Randy scooted her chair up and leaned towards you. "How the hell did you get away with it?"
"Well, it helped a lot that her husband was already a felon." You teased. "If I didn't kill her, he was going to eventually."
Pilar made a face. "I can't believe it took actual murder to get that latter-day lump thrown in prison."
"Well, the LDS church is a very influential organization with a stronghold on all of Utah." You explained. "There's a long history of legitimizing sex abuse there."
"We know, cult girl." Stephanie laughed. "You remind us every time your pedophile cousin-in-law comes up. Relax and take your victories where you can get them.” 
“Ladies,” Hannibal entered. You rushed to his side to help him with the dinner plates. “Have we ever tried organ meat before?” 
Everyone’s eyes found Pilar. 
“Braised liver is delicious and you guys are just cowards.” Pilar protested. “I will die on this hill.” 
Hannibal smiled and presented your friends with their plates. “You are a woman of good tastes, Pilar. Our first course is Riñones al Jerez.” 
“Kidneys.” Randy translated. “Who’s kidneys are we eating today, Dr. Lecter?” 
He tilted his head. “Theresa’s, of course.” 
“I don’t care whose organs you harvested.” Stephanie said, her eyes rolling back into her head. “This is delicious.” 
You and Hannibal shared a glance and a smile. 
You and your roommates devoured the Riñones al Jerez, then dug into the next serving of heart stewed with chickpeas and olives. You finished off the evening with natillas de leche and a bottle of Sauternes Hannibal just happened to have lying around. 
“This is the first time since like, Keith Raniere got sentenced that I’ve seen [F/N] happy-drunk.” Stephanie observed.
“Or even just... happy." Pilar said, looking at Hannibal. "I'll have some of whatever she's having, please."
"My pleasure." Hannibal poured her another glass of wine.
Your phone began to buzz on the table, capturing the attention of your guests. You didn't even need to look at the caller ID to know who it was. Nobody else in the world had such horrid timing.
"Shit, you've got to answer it here!" Stephanie pleaded. "So we can all give her a piece of our mind!"
You looked over to Hannibal, who you knew was just as curious.
You dragged the answer icon across the screen and put it on speaker. You gestured for your friends to be quiet. "Yeah?"
"Well look who finally decided to pick up." Grandma said. "Thank you for gracing me with your attention. I know you have so much going on right now, you're just too busy to pick up the phone and talk to your grieving grandmother."
"For your information..." you stumbled over your words. "I was interrogated by the police yesterday. I think that counts as having something going on."
"Are you drunk?" Her voice was laced with a disproportionate level of disgust.
"I'm grieving too, Beatrice." You counter. "What, suddenly you're the only one who can drink the pain away? That's not very democratic of you."
"In your state, you shouldn't even be thinking of alcohol!" Grandma scolded. "You of all people should know the effects alcohol has on an unborn baby."
You smacked yourself on the head. Of course Theresa would plant a seed to fuck you over one last time. "Did Theresa actually tell you I was pregnant?"
"It was her last message to me, actually. Anyway, you're coming home." Grandma said, without so much as waiting for a response. "I won't have my great grandchild living in that dangerous city that your cousin was killed in."
You exchanged looks with your friends, who were going through the same combination of emotions as you were. Grandma's words just seemed to fade out as you shared an entire nonverbal conversation with the people around you.
"And you're leaving that terrible, terrible man."
Hannibal raised an eyebrow and looked at you, waiting to see how you'd respond. You knew what you had to do. It was finally time. You did something you should have done a long time ago.
"No." You said, your nerves loosened by the wine.
"What?"
"No. And I mean it." A big smile crossed your lips. "Theresa lied to you. I'm not pregnant. And you have to live with the fact that your granddaughter's last words to you were a blatant lie."
Hannibal looked at you with pride and your friends began to silently gas you up with encouraging gestures. "
"...And that you're the only one to blame for her deception." You continued. "You raised her in your own image."
"This is why I refuse to let you raise my great grandchild with that man!" She wailed. "He's twisted your mind against me! He's made you cruel!"
"Hannibal made me see clearly that you made me cruel." You said with absolute certainty. "You'll never see me again."
"Don't be like your mother, [F/N]." Grandma snarled. "Don't cut people out for trying to help."
"You'll never see me again." You repeated and decided to leave it at that. You ended the call and blocked the number, joined by an eruption of excitement from your friends.
It was finally over. Your life could truly begin.
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dccomicsimagines · 3 years
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What’s Lost is Found - Batfamily Imagine - Bonus Part Nine.Five
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Warning - Depressive Thoughts, Angst Content
Part One   Part Two  Part Three   Part Four  Part Five  Part Six  Part Six.Five  Part Seven  Part Eight  Part Nine  Part Ten   Part Eleven
Requested by Anon - Hey! Uh... Can i request a one-shot from dick's P.O.V. from what's lost is found when he realise (y/n) is not in the mansion/found (y/n)'s note about handing themself to the fake bane? I'd really love to see slight angst of panicked dick worrying about his kid.(sorry not sorry dick)🤣
Author’s Note - Sorry this took so long, but I was working on other things before diving back into the What’s Lost is Found universe. ;) 
***
The warmth from the sunlamp soaked into Dick as he sat in the ICU area of the cave. Kori hadn’t woken up yet. She laid on the bed directly under the lamp, taking the full blast from it. Her baby bump clearly visible under the sheet. He stared at the heart monitors, both heartbeats were strong. Why wouldn’t she wake up?
Dick buried his face in his hands. His body ached. The pills Alfred slipped him must have wore off. 
He frowned when he heard the arguments coming from the meeting room in the cave. They were planning their next move to deal with siege on Gotham. Dick knew he should be in there with them, but there wasn’t any point. He was going to take his family home where it was safe. 
Dropping his hands, he looked back at Kori. His stomach twisted in knots.
He tensed at the sound of soft footsteps approaching. However, he relaxed when he felt your presence by his side. “Hey kiddo,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around you. You leaned into him. Dick’s heart glowed. At least you were safe. His hand rubbed your side gently.
“Is she okay?” You trembled in his grasp. Your words stabbed at Dick’s heart. Tears threatened to fall down his cheeks. You were so young. Too young for all of this. 
“Her vitals and the baby’s are good, but she hasn’t woken up.” He ran a hand through his hair, wincing when his shoulder flared in pain. Damn, maybe he should have taken another dose of pain meds. You shifted in his grasp. He glanced up to see your lips pursed, eyes downcast. “This isn’t your fault, honey. I don’t want to hear that from you.” Your eyes watered. Dick kissed your cheek, the father instinct in him taking over.  “I didn’t want you to be part of this.”
You tensed. Dick saw the anger flash in your eyes, but you didn’t snap at him. His arms ached to hold you, to comfort you and himself at the same time. He hesitated a moment before pulling you to sit in his lap. You relaxed into his hold much to his relief.  “Shouldn’t you be with the others?” you asked.
“No.” Dick squeezed his arms around you. Gathering his courage, he spoke his next words carefully. “We’re not going to be here for much longer.”
“What?!” you gasped. Dick sighed. He knew you would react this way. Your jaw dropped, staring at him with those big eyes in disbelief. You looked so much like Bruce in that moment. Dick remembered getting a similar look from Bruce when he swung off the chandelier for the first time. 
“We’re leaving, going home.” Dick frowned when you pulled away from him. His arms reached out to try to keep you close. “Don’t fight me on this, sweetheart.” Dick’s heart broke into a million pieces. He had to keep you, Kori, and the baby safe. Why couldn’t you just understand for once? Why did you always have to fight?
“We can’t leave.” Your voice cracked. Dick saw your hands trembling. He wanted to reach out to hold them still, but you would just run away from him.  “I caused this. I can’t leave them to deal with this. Tim already hates me, Damian too. I can’t do this to them.”
Something inside Dick snapped. He felt a cold, raw anger build inside his chest.  “I’m not arguing with you on this. We’re going home.” Your eyes widened in shock. Color drained out of your face. Dick caught himself. The anger evaporated. He softened his tone. “I have more to lose now.” Without a thought, he reached out to pat your arm. You flinched away from him. Dick jerked like you tore his heart out. “(Y/N).” You left the room so fast, you were gone in a blink of an eye. 
A plug released from inside of him and Dick sobbed in a way he hadn’t since his parents died. Completely broken. Deep down, he knew he shouldn’t be selfish and whisk his family away when Gotham needed all hands on deck. The others were his family too. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to them.
Time passed and Dick slowly collected himself. Kori hadn’t stirred. He went over to kiss her forehead. “I’ll be back, sweetheart. I’m going to talk to (Y/N).” He waited a moment for any sign from Kori. However, she didn’t move. “Please wake up soon.” He kissed her again before pulling himself away. 
The raised voices from the meeting room echoed through the cave. Lois was talking to Alfred in the corner as Alfred was setting up sandwiches and drinks for everyone. “Do you know where (Y/N) went?” Jon asked Dick shyly, appearing beside him. Dick frowned. His eyes narrowed. Jon flinched.
“No.” Dick crossed his arms. “What you did was so irresponsible. I trusted you to keep (Y/N) out of this and safe.” 
“I know.” Jon bit his lip, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I already got the full lecture from Mom, Dad, Alfred, Jason, and Damian.” He looked Dick in the eye rather bravely. Dick found himself respecting Jon just a little bit more. “I’m sorry.”
Dick cleared his throat. “I suppose I can overlook it. I’d imagine (Y/N) would have came anyway, no matter if you brought them or not.” He glanced around the cave. “You haven’t seen (Y/N)?”
“No, not since Alfred changed their bandages.” Jon tensed, following Dick’s gaze. 
“I’ll check upstairs while you look around here.” Dick jogged to the steps and headed up. He heard Jon zooming off to search the lesser used areas of the cave. Dick’s heart was in his throat. Please don’t let anything happen to (Y/N). Please don’t let (Y/N) do something foolish and dangerous.
He couldn’t shake the sense of dread settling in the bottom of his stomach. Bursting through the clock entrance into Bruce’s study, his blood ran cold when he saw notes for everyone on the desk. They were all in your handwriting.
“No, no, no, no.” Dick grabbed the note with his name on it and opened his. His eyes came across ‘I’m sorry’ before he crumbled it in his hand. “Damn it, (Y/N).” He was about to rush back down to the cave when a terrible sound echoed from it. Dick paused. “Damian?” It couldn’t have been Damian. Damian never sounded like that before. 
Dick rushed down the stairs, almost tripping to find Damian on his knees in front of the batcomputer. The others were gathered around, watching in horror. Footage from outside Wayne Tower was playing live. You were in the Bane lookalike’s arms, limp. Dick’s mouth went dry as he watched the Bane lookalike toss you into a waiting vehicle. 
“We have to stop him.” Damian was on his feet, racing toward the batmobile like a dehydrated man seeing water for the first time. 
“Stop. You won’t get there in time.” Tim grabbed at Damian’s arm to stop him. Damian snarled, slamming his fist into Tim’s jaw to knock him back.
“That’s my sibling.” Damian started toward the batmobile again. Jason tackled him to the ground. The terrible sound came from Damian again as he fought with Jason desperately to get to the batmobile. “We can’t let them die. We can’t leave them.” 
Jason grunted as Damian’s elbow smashed into his stomach. “Stop it. You’re not thinking straight.”
Dick looked back at the screen. All the light in his life was sucked away in an instant. You were dead. There’s no way they would keep you alive. Dick closed his eyes, burying his face in his hands.
A hand rested on his shoulder. He looked up to meet Barbara’s eye. “We don’t know if they’re gone. Let’s not grieve until we do,” she whispered. Dick looked at the others. Jon Kent was hugging Lois tight, sobbing into her shoulder. Lois had tears in her eyes too. Jason and Damian were still wrestling on the ground with Damian slowly dragging them over to the batmobile. Alfred stared blankly at the screen in shock. Tim was on his knees, embracing Steph from where she collapsed. Cass and Duke appeared numb and held hands with each other. They slowly moved to Alfred’s side to comfort him. 
“Right.” Dick swallowed his grief. He allowed himself to have that little spark of hope in his chest. You were strong and the fact they didn’t kill you outright meant that they maybe had other plans. Besides, he was the oldest. He had to be the example. 
Barbara nodded over to Jason and Damian. “You better take care of that first. I’m going to try to track that vehicle.” Barbara went to the computer and started working. 
Dick took a deep breath. “Cass, Duke, get ready to go out there as soon as Babs has information for you.” They nodded, running off to get dressed.
“Fuck! Get off me, you idiotic street rat.” Damian suddenly broke away from Jason and scrambled to his feet. “I will not be the last Wayne!” He panted, glancing at the computer before swiftly kicking Jason in the side. “You wasted my time! (Y/N) could be dead by now!”
“Damian!” Dick rushed over, stepping between Jason and Damian. Jason groaned, holding his side. “Calm down! This is not going to help (Y/N).” Damian’s glare darkened. Dick rested his hands on Damian’s shoulders, tensing in case Damian exploded again. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Dami, I know you’re scared for (Y/N). I’m terrified for them too, but lashing out isn’t going to help us get them back.” 
Damian took a shaky breath. He closed his eyes. “I can’t be the last Wayne.” Dick’s stomach dropped to his feet. His fear threatened to take over, but he held it off. He had to be strong for Damian, for the others. 
“You aren’t.” Dick pulled Damian into his arms. Damian went limp, his knees giving out. Dick fell with him, ignoring the wetness on his shirt as Damian hid his face into Dick’s shoulder. “(Y/N) is still alive. We know that. We’ll find them and bring them back home.” Dick rested his chin on Damian’s head. His own tears fell down his cheeks. “I swear we’ll find them.” He rocked Damian back and forth.
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Fake Dating Drabble No. 3
Today with Javier Peña (x OFC) who told Connie he had a (non existent) girlfriend so she stops setting him up on dates. Big thanks to @ladyreapermc​ for the idea 😘😘😘
Steph’s fake dating Drabble week
This is like 1.7k so not really a Drabble but 🤷‍♀️
Warnings: alcohol, cursing
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He was fucked. Why the fuck did he agree to bring his girlfriend to the weekly Sunday dinner at the Murphy’s? The very much not real girlfriend he lied about because he didn’t want Connie to set him up with another nurse or doctor from the hospital she worked in.
He loved Connie, he really did. But sometimes she didn’t know when to stop.
“Don’t you want to settle down Javier? You’re not getting any younger,” she had asked.
“I have this very nice doctor friend at the hospital. She’s American and very intelligent and single…” Connie had started. He knew where this was going.
“Connie. I appreciate it but…” Javier looked at Steve who looked suspicious at him.
“I have a girlfriend. So you can stop setting me up on dates, okay?” He thought he had heard the last of it.
“You bring your girlfriend next week yeah?” Connie had asked, very much not about to take no for an answer as the Murphy’s walked him to the door. Javi had looked at Steve who almost cried silent tears to suppress his laughter.
“I don’t know…”
“See you next Sunday Javier. Let me know if she’s allergic to anything, yeah?” Connie smiled as she hugged him goodbye.
“Yeah…” he sighed. Connie went back inside, leaving Steve and him standing outside.
“So that girlfriend of yours…”
“Fuck you, Steve,” Javi hissed, making Steve chuckle.
“Don’t think about bringing one of your… Informants yeah? She’s gonna figure that out immediately.”
Javier turned around, giving Steve the finger as he walked back to his apartment.
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It was Saturday and he still had no fucking idea who to bring. Javier wasn’t someone who had many friendships. The only real friend he really had was with Steve. Not that he would ever admit it to anyone. And he wouldn’t be any help. That fucker had teased him the whole week.
“Another one?” Mary asked. Javier found himself sitting at the counter of his favorite bar. It was getting close to midnight.
“You trying to get me drunk, Hermosa?” Javi smirked, looking up at the woman in front of him.
“You wish, Peña. I’m only this nice because you tip well,” she grinned, filling his glass. Javier kept looking at her. He didn’t know much about Mary. Only that she came to Colombia for a job that she quit after 6 months because the boss was harassing her. She started out working shifts at the bar. She was younger than him, but only by a couple of years. She was hilarious, intelligent and beautiful. It was like a lamp went on in his slightly drunk brain.
“You okay there, Javier? Is there something in my face?” she asked when he just kept looking at her.
“I need you to be my girlfriend,” Javier said.
“Excuse me?” she asked with big eyes.
“Fuck. Shit. It’s perfect. You’re perfect…” he ran a hand through his hair, his other hand grabbing the package of cigarettes, bringing one to his lips.
“Okay no more whiskey for you. I’m gonna call you a cab,” she shook her head at him.
“No… Let me explain. Fuck I shouldn’t drink that much.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling you for a year,” she teased and he grinned.
“And you’re right. Anyway. I need a date.”
“The brothel is right down the street.”
“No. Wow. Fuck you’re mean. No. I need a date because I told Connie that I have a girlfriend so she stops nagging me to settle down or set me up on dates with every woman in Bogotá she knows.” He explained. Mary looked at him before she burst out in laughter, gathering a few confused looks from the people around her.
“Sorry…” she shook her head, trying to stop herself from laughing.
“Come on, it’s not that bad,” Javier smirked, his cigarette almost out.
“Javier I saw you leave with another woman only two days ago. How would that even work?”
“That’s not a no,” Javier grinned and she sighed.
“It’s not a yes either.”
“Well… You’d only have to pretend. Connie likes you. Steve knows I’m lying so…”
“So... Why not tell Connie that you lied?”
“You know Connie…” he groaned. Mary looked at him, the man who somehow became her favorite customer because he was the only one not trying to get her to fuck him. And now he was asking her to play his girlfriend. She shook her head.
“You better tipping me really, really good, Peña.”
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Mary was at his place 15 minutes early. She even had put a dress on. The food better was worth it. Javier opened the door after the third knock and she grinned.
“Hi babe,” she teased, walking past him.
“I’m regretting this already,” he muttered, trying not to let his eyes wander down her body, but failing miserably. He had never seen her in a dress, let alone anything that made her body look so… so…
“So how do we do this?” she turned around and Javier looked up into her eyes.
“Well, I’m a very physical man…”
“Is that your way of telling me that you won’t keep your hands to yourself?” she raised one eyebrow.
“Well it has to appear real…” he smirked. She bit her lip, looking at him as she crossed her arms in front of her. He fought the urge to look at her cleavage as she shamelessly checked him out.
“If you get too handsy, I will break your fingers,” she clarified.
“What is too handsy?” he asked with a smirk. She walked towards him, her hands on his chest as she blinked up at him.
“I think you know what’s too handsy, Agent Peña,” she winked and he shakily breathed out. Shit. Were her eyes always this bright green?
“You wanna kiss me, Javi?” she whispered with a small smile.
“You want me to?” he asked hoarsely. She chuckled before she shook her head, patting his chest twice, and parted from him.
“I’m starving, let’s go!”
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“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that it’s Mary you’re dating,” Connie was sitting on the couch next to Steve who had the time of his life. He had to give it to Javier, he really did try hard. Mary was lovely. And funnily she would be just what Javi needed and the longer the night progressed the more Steve noticed the way Javi was looking at her. If Steve didn’t know better he would really buy it.
“So Javier ended up shitfaced at the bar and I took him home…” Mary told Connie and Javier rolled his eyes. That really did happen and she had been giving him shit about it for the last three months.
“And before I left him to sleep, he drunkenly asked me to be his girlfriend to which I only laughed and went out. Turns out he was genuine about it.” The way Mary lied without blinking an eye towards Connie who seemed smitten was unbelievable to Javi.
“Well, children and people who drink do speak the truth…” Connie teased. She patted Steve’s thigh. “Come one honey, I need your help in the kitchen.” Steve leaned in, kissing Connie on the cheek as he helped her up and they went to the kitchen.
“You are really selling this, Hermosa. Might think that you have thought about it before.”
“Well you were very affectionate when I brought you home that night,” she turned around to face him. Somehow they had gotten closer and closer over the evening. She was leaning against his shoulder, his arm around her waist, his fingers brushing over her thigh. He had noticed the goosebumps on her arms everytime he got closer.
“I didn’t do anything more….”
“Inappropriate than this?” she gestured around with a smile. “No. No you didn’t.”
“I’m glad,” he smiled softly at her. He felt himself grow warm at the look in her eyes. Fuck. No. No. No. No. He reached to brush a stray of hair behind her ear and she smiled back at him. She shuddered when she felt his fingers brush over her cheek. Javier was a really beautiful man the longer she looked at him. There was a dimple on his cheek when he smiled at her. It was kinda cute. The thought that she wanted to kiss it crossed her mind. What? Kissing? Javier?
“Don’t break my fingers…” he whispered as he leaned in. He stopped inches from her lips and she gulped, breathing deeply before she softly pressed her lips on his. It was like she was hot and cold at the same time as their lips met and Javi sighed. He pulled her closer, his lips moving over hers.
A cough let them part from another and they both looked up at Steve who was holding a tray of what looked like a chocolate mousse with a teasing grin on his lips.
“Not. A word,” Javier hissed at him, making Steve chuckle, while Mary tried to control her breathing. Shit, she wanted more. More of Javi. More of his lips, his hands, his….
Javi grabbed her hand and she looked at him as he mouthed the word later before Connie walked in.
They said their goodbyes an hour later, waving at the Murphy’s.
“Be safe kids,” Steve called after them and Javi, again, gave him the finger while his other hand held Mary’s. When they were standing in front of Javi’s apartment they both sighed.
“Well this was certainly very interesting,” Mary had a small smile on her lips.
“Yeah. You could say that,” Javi said.
“You think she bought it?”
“Oh definitely. You… you were perfect.”
They stood in front of each other, both not really wanting to leave.
“So…” Mary said, sucking her bottom lip in. She looked into his eyes, only quickly to his lips and she caught him doing the same.
“I should get home….” she whispered. Javi nodded.
“I’ll drive you,” he said. She nodded but didn’t move.
“Or..”
“Or?” he asked, stepping closer.
“Or you could kiss me again,” she smiled and Javi sighed relieved before his arms pulled her close and his lips crashed down on hers.
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stephspurs · 3 years
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A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction
here is the second last part besties wahhh I'm so sad its coming to an end!! I'm also so sorry about this part, it'll break a few hearts :'( Love always, Steph xx
Part 11 | parte undicesima
warnings; heartbreak, swearing & angst - i'm sorry in advance. word count; 2185 writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. final update; Wednesday 18/08 5pm AEST. tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here
A few days had passed since the Villa match and Amelia had heard from Jack when he returned to Birmingham. He sent her a simple text to let her know he made it home. That’s it. The two went from previously not going more than 24 hours between FaceTimes or calls or memes to a simple made it home a few hours ago, thanks for a good time x.
No “speak soon”, no promise of a FaceTime , no double kiss at the end of the text that would have typically been there otherwise. If anything, she was more mad that he made her feel like a side piece; like one of his instagram girls that she knew he entertained throughout the week. Amelia knew that she, for lack of better terms, fucked up. She fucked up their friendship, and was praying to all of the Gods that would listen to help her not fuck things up with Ben, too. However, the fact that she didn’t go to church as often as she should have is probably the reason that Ben refused to make eye contact with the girl. It was either that or…he already knew.
“Benj, hey, wait up.” She called as he walked out to his car after a particularly long day at Cobham.
“Don’t call me Benj,” he coldly stated without turning around, continuing his stride.
“Okay fine, Chilly. Wait up will you!”
“Don’t call me Chilly either, that's reserved for friends.”
“Okay, if I can’t call you Benj, or Chilly, what can I call you?”
“The best mate of the guy you fucked multiple times on Saturday night” He spat out at her, as he finally turned around, ready to see the shocked look cast over Amelia’s face as she stood a couple feet away from him. He wasn’t expecting to see Mason at his car, just across the way or Jorgi at his, a few cars down. But they were there and it didn’t matter; they were going to find out sooner or later, anyway.
“He told you.”
“He told the group chat, Amelia. The fucking group chat! How does that make you feel? He’s already bragging about it. Your bed isn't even cold yet! It probably doesn’t bother you that much though - you’re just like him.”
“He fucked you when he knew exactly how I felt about you, having gone to him for advice as to how to apologise to you. I called him on Friday after I left your house and gushed to him like a bloody little girl because I was so happy you forgave me, and that we had kissed. And then, just like that, you let him weasel his way between your legs.”
“I know I should be taking this out on him, and I will don’t worry, but you knew what you were doing also. You knew exactly how I felt about you. I was ready to commit to you that night and you said you wanted to be friends, that you needed time to heal or whatever. So I hope you’re happy and are healing, because I take it all back.” With that, Ben turned around and got in his car, driving away from the girl who felt remorse worse than she ever has in her life.
Witnessing the whole exchange, Jorgi gave Mason a nod to say “go check on Ben, I’ll look after Amelia” and walked up to the girl from behind. Without scaring her, he firmly grabbed her around the shoulders and pulled her to his chest where she let go of all of the emotions she had been keeping inside. With every stab of the knife that was Ben’s words, she felt herself becoming more vulnerable and exposed than ever before. She refused to let him see her cry. That wasn’t something she was willing to let anyone see; she didn’t realise all she had been holding together until she no longer had to, until she had the physical support of Jorgi holding her up in the middle of the training ground car park.
Ushering her to his car - she could collect her own another day - Jorgi  put her inside before any other first team members - or worse, staff members - could see the distraught girl and drove them both back to her place where he spent the rest of the evening comforting the girl and letting her know she wasn’t alone. He had even made a desperate call to Fede, asking for advice on how to cheer the girl up. Of course, her Italian ex-lover had been worried the moment his national teammate had told him that the girl was inconsolable and was just about ready to board a flight to her, but Jorgi had calmed him down too. Fede’s advice of coffee, warm pyjamas and clean sheets had done the trick of putting the girl to sleep for the night.
The next few days had come and gone, and the two heartbroken almost-lovers were back to the beginning - Ben ignoring Amelia and Amelia trying to get Ben in a room. But it wasn’t to be. Towards the end of the week, Amelia had received a phone call from Mr Mancini, formally inviting her back to the Italian National Team staff for the upcoming friendly matches and preparation for the 2022 World Cup. Without any hesitation, she accepted her role and began to prepare the necessary procedures that would need to be implemented or maintained during her time away with the Italian side.
Sharing the news with her fellow Italians, Jorgi and Emerson, she decided that she wanted to be the one to tell Ben. She wanted him to know, whether he cared or not, that she wasn’t running away from him and that she would see him soon.
“Chilwell, please stay behind after the session.” She decided it was best if she requested it in the company of the rest of the first team and also the staff members. She was being selfish but she didn’t want him to run away from her again.
He remained sat in his seat as the rest of the team and professional staff left for the evening. Arms crossed, slouched down, looking at everything else in the room but the girl who was nervously wringing her hands together.
“I’m leaving for international duties tomorrow morning.” With that sentence, he stopped tapping his left leg and looking at the cornice details. Instead, his attention was focused on her.
“But we don’t break up for internationals for another week.”
“I know, but Mancini has requested I come earlier to settle back into things over there.”
“It’s only an hour flight away, how difficult could it be?”
“I thought you’d be happy to see me go.”
Silence. Ben didn’t have an answer for her. Of course he didn’t want to see her around Cobham on the day-to-day basis they currently had to endure, but that doesn’t mean he wants her to go back to Italy. Even if it was only for a couple of weeks. Especially if it meant she was around Fede again.
“Well, much to your dismay I'll be back here in 3 weeks. And, Italy are playing England in the last friendly match of the break.”
With a slight nod of his head, Amelia presumed that their conversation was done with. She turned to gather her paperwork and heard the chairs behind her move, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing. She sighed into her hands. How did she let this happen? She preached to Ben how much she didn’t want to be selfish with his heart, and that's exactly what she did. But hey, it takes two to tango. Deciding there was no time like the present, she dialed the contact that once made her smirk but instead only made her furious to look at.
“Amelia, hey, how are you? Sorry it’s been a hectic couple of weeks.”
“Cut the crap Jack, you never intended to keep this friendship after you got what you were after.”
“Excuse me? You wanted it just as bad as I did.”
“You’re right about that, I thought I wanted it. Now, though, all I feel is regret. You know Jack, I knew from the moment we met that you were just my type, the kind that only calls me late at night. I knew a guy like you, and he treated me more or less the same. I gave myself to him, over and over for the better part of 3 years, and it was only when I left that he decided I might have been worth it... worth him.”
“But not you, you couldn’t help but run to your group chat and brag about your latest conquest, about how you made me feel wanted, only to rip it all out from under me the next morning and every day since. Honestly Jack, I think it's time you grew up a little. For Ben to confide in you how he was feeling and for you to just have blatant disregard for your so-called best mate. I can’t believe you would stoop so low. I know I'm in the wrong here too, but you are his best mate for crying out loud! How could you do this to him?”
“I don’t even want to hear what you have to say, I just needed to get that off my chest. Lose my number Jack, find some other hopeless girl that you can lure in with your foolish words and sweet nothings because I’m done. I’m done with whatever this was to you.”
______________________________________________________________
“You’re probably not going to believe me, but you have no idea how happy I am to see you here,” I heard from behind me, spinning around on my heels to see the ever-charming, boyish grin I used to love with my whole heart. This time, it's a different kind of love - it's an unconditional love shared between two people that are glad to exist together in the same crazy world.
“Federico, amore mio.” (Federico, my love) I stood up from my place on the bench at the Technical Headquarters and Training Ground of the Italian Football Federation, bringing the taller, heavily tattooed man into my arms. A gentle rock from him, side to side, to let me know that he can feel the weight of my moral compass.
“Vieni, cammina con me” (come, walk with me) He looped our arms together, and we strolled around the perimeter of the pitch that I was using to visualise my plays for the upcoming games. By the time we made it to the first set of goals, Fede had had enough of letting me mull over my own thoughts.
“Tesoro, Jorgi called one night a couple weeks ago. As smart as he is, it turns out he is hopeless at calming down an emotional female. While I'm not proud of knowing exactly how to calm you down, being that it was more often than not my fault you were inconsolable in the first place, I had to get some information out of him as to who upset my favourite girl in all of England.”
So I launched into the story, telling him everything from Mykonos to that fateful night a few weeks ago. Fede being Fede, he wanted to know everything, but I stopped just short of letting him know how many times Jack took me to paradise (much to his dismay). By the time I had wrapped up, we must have walked the pitch at least 3 times in its entirety, before retiring to the centre circle where we sat on opposite sides of the half way line staring at each other.
“I’m sorry that I ruined you for any other man,” Fede spoke solemnly.
“Fede, no - it was my stupid mistake to sleep with Jack.”
“No, let me finish amore. I’m sorry that I made you love me so deeply, and convinced you that the way I treated you was the right way, that the way I was with you was what you expect in every man to come after me. This Jack, he sounds just like me about 5 years ago - before I met you. But Ben, he sounds like the man I am trying to better myself to be, to be the man that deserves the kind of love you have to give.”
“I want you to listen to me. You need to fight for Ben. From what I have heard from both yourself and Jorgi-”
“That boy cannot keep his mouth shut to save himself,” I muttered under my breath.
“Amelia, you have a heart that deserves to be loved. Open yourself up to Ben. Tell him how you feel. From experience, you are very hard to ignore when you’re so vulnerable. Be honest with him, apologise, make him feel wanted, not like a second choice. Let him know how much you care for him, and equally how much you want him to care for you. He will see your sincerity and realise just how truly irresistible you are.”
Part 12. | la parte finale
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Stalker X Stalker, Part 8
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Tim woke up the next morning, because that’s how things work.
He fought back a groan as he slowly flexed each muscle individually, making sure that everything was still working. To his surprise, it actually was. His brain stuttered to a stop. Why had he been asleep, then? He was pretty sure it wasn’t his usual sleep day…
Then, he finally processed the fact that his face was pressed to something that definitely wasn’t his pillow.
He cracked an eye open. He was laying on top of Marinette, head resting on her stomach. She was still asleep, he noted, one of her hands was thrown over her eyes and the other tangled in his hair.
He vaguely considered just staying there. He could stay in that position forever…
Except he couldn’t. He had responsibilities. He was pretty sure that if he skipped both patrols and work his family would assume he’d been brainwashed in some way.
So, reluctantly, he pushed himself up and reached a hand out to poke Marinette awake.
She grumbled a little and caught his hand, blinking her eyes open. She looked up at him for a moment, uncomprehending in her sleepy state, and he couldn’t help but smile. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead before clambering away from their tangle of limbs so he could take a quick shower and get ready.
First, though, he started up the coffee machine. He’d known that she’d had coffee, he’d been there when she bought it... but, really, if she was worried enough to lie about it he’d at least try and alleviate those fears a little.
That done, he took a quick shower. He already had a towel and toothbrush at the house -- wow, Marinette really wasn’t joking, he had basically moved in already, oops -- so he used those.
Then he pulled on the outfit she’d made him. By the time he needed help lacing up the corset, Marinette had stumbled into the room in a daze.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hello?”
She held out one of two mugs for him and he was forced to hide his smile behind his cup.
“Could you help me with this,” he asked.
She nodded and downed her entire mug before walking behind him. He felt her forehead tip forward to rest against the back of his shoulder as she worked and he was very glad she couldn’t see his face because he was sure that he was beginning to get redder than their costumes.
She pulled the lace tight and tied it off and he had no clue if the tightness in his chest was because she had laced him too tightly or because of nerves but either way he didn’t really mind. He turned back around, pressing another kiss to her forehead.
“I’ll see you later?”
She smiled at him. “I’ll make some bacon for you to eat on the go. Don’t want you to be hungry.”
He considered saying no but, really, he didn’t see her all that often in the morning and he had to admit that it was pretty cute. “If you remember to make some for yourself then sure.”
She hummed a little and turned around to go make food. He’d check on her in a few minutes to make sure she hadn’t fallen back asleep while cooking.
For now, he absently checked his clothes over for bugs. It was an old habit from years of living with the bats and, had he been even slightly more awake, he wouldn’t have done it.
Except he did. And there, hidden in the cuff of his shirt, was a bug.
… he hadn’t even been this happy when Damian had bugged him for the first time. She cared about him and his well-being! He was accepted!
When he made his way back into the kitchen he made sure to give her a long hug.
~
Marinette was so tired. She had been working on attaching the diamonds to Cassandra Wayne’s dress and there were so fucking many.
So, when Robin climbed through her window, all she did was give a vague wave of acknowledgement.
“You need better window locks,” he informed her.
“Most people don’t know how to pick every lock in existence, kid.”
“But some do.”
She thought about whether or not she really wanted this to be the argument that took up valuable work time. The answer was no, definitely not.
She finally turned to face him, resting her cheek against the couch. She didn’t know Damian personally outside of messing with Tim when they were in their superhero identities, she wasn’t even completely sure that this was Damian (though he did match up with the measurements she had for his outfits), so there was no good reason for him to be there.
She squinted suspiciously at him. Now that she was paying attention, she could see that he had his hands behind his back.
“What do you want?”
“I saw on your lease that you are allowed to have pets in your apartment.”
Oh no.
“Please tell me you didn’t,” she whispered, her voice close to begging.
He slowly brought his hands out from behind his back to reveal a black cat with almost luminous green eyes. She rested her head in her hands, taking deep breaths to remain calm.
“I wish to coparent with you.”
“... your dad didn’t let you get another pet?”
(Yes, she knew about the pet problem. She had seen Batcow. She had seen the Batbats all over the cave that he had apparently taken in.)
He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Possibly.”
She slowly lifted her head from her hands to glare at him. Unfortunately for her, he puffed out his little baby cheeks in a pout and, even if most of what she did was played up to mess with Tim, she was weak for little kids that look sad.
“Fine. But you’re paying for everything and you better actually help me take care of it.”
“She! And her name is Vanelope!”
“Van --?” She decided she didn’t care. She glanced at Damian’s still disapproving expression and rolled her eyes before leaning down to be at the cat’s eye level: “I’m sorry for calling you an ‘it’, Vanelope.”
He nodded, apparently satisfied by her begrudging apology.
“C’mon, put Vanelope down, we’re going to the pet store.”
Damian beamed. She pulled the front of his hood down over his eyes in retaliation for the dumb situation he’d put her in. Revenge achieved, she transformed and ducked out her window before she could get stabbed.
~
Scarecrow’s parties were always the best.
For one thing, there was the haunted house. Scarecrow took the whole ‘scaring people’ thing very seriously, it was his whole shtick, so you could always count on him to dream up the best haunted houses. Even better, he’d give out brownies laced with minute traces of fear toxin to make the whole thing just a little bit scarier.
Speaking of brownies: the food. Tim was pretty sure that some of the stuff served at the parties could rival the things Marinette and Alfred made.
Then there were the venues he picked. They had to get bigger every year, what with Bruce’s adoption problem and the Rogue’s ever-expanding roster. This year the man had rented out an entire park and the building nearby. The building had a dance floor and a kind of second floor that overlooked everyone. The park held all the people that the building could not.
Add in the fact that every single person was probably clinically insane in some way or another and you’d have the reason for why he was always excited to go.
Tim attended the party as a Red Robin employee. He had to, it was on brand.
Marinette raised her eyebrows when she saw him. She’d gotten there before him, which had been a little bit of a surprise. He’d thought she’d at least wait for a few vigilantes to come to make sure it was safe --.
Oh. Nevermind. He stifled a grin when his eyes landed on a blonde in an outfit he recognized as Cassie’s. He was pretty sure dressing up as Wonder Girl was betraying the bats but he wasn’t going to be the one to call Steph out on it. Cassie was pretty cool...
Cassie -- no, Steph -- was suddenly grabbed by the arm by an excited Marinette and pulled her over to him. Marinette was wearing a pirate costume and he suspected that the bottle of wine in her free hand was more than an accessory.
“Red Robin, yum~,” both women chorused.
He rolled his eyes. “They’ve infected you already. Soon you’ll be disappearing into the shadows without ending conversations.”
Marinette grinned, the corner of her mask (now tinted black in some places to mimic a pirate’s beard) twitching. “It’s about time you assholes got a taste of your own medicine.”
Tim rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Y’know, for someone who didn’t like the idea of the party before, you sure did get into your outfit.’
“Please, I put effort into all my outfits.”
“Except for the Ladybug one,” teased Steph.
She huffed. “I was on a time crunch --.”
Tim grinned. “That’s no excuse.”
“... you had thought about it for who knows how long and not only did you come up with the name Drake, but you also came up with an ugly brown outfit. You don’t get a say in this.”
Steph grinned. “And me?”
“Your outfits are okay,” said Marinette after a few second’s thought.
Tim gasped in mock offense. “And I thought we were friends.”
“Friends call each other out for their stupid fashion choices.”
Steph smirked and slung her arm around Marinette’s shoulders. “And, really, you need an intervention.”
When did they start ganging up on Tim?
“Whatever. This outfit is nice, so that makes up for all past mistakes.”
“It’d be nicer if you didn’t make the same joke every year,” Steph teased.
He huffed and pouted, but then something caught his eyes. Dick had arrived, Tim could see him perched on a second floor railing in his work clothes… of course, the name tag marking him as Nurse Grayson was gone, but it was still the same light blue scrubs.
He paled a little under his domino for two reasons. The first was the instantaneous worry about their identities; sure, Gotham had many medical workers, but who knows, Gotham and Bludhaven twitter both insisted that Dick had a very distinct body. The second was Marinette was going to end up liking Dick quite a lot -- she already looked up to him for his fighting style, there was no way she was going to be able to resist the signature Grayson charm that had won over every superhero, vigilante, and villain on Earth (and a few other planets as well).
He knew that, inevitably, Dick would win her over… but he was definitely going to stall it as much as he possibly could.
So, he pulled a grin to his face. “Oh, Ladybug, you haven’t gone in the haunted house yet, have you?”
She gave him a slightly wary look. “I don’t do good with scary things.”
He grinned. “I’ll protect you.”
She raised her eyebrows slightly before sighing. “Fine.”
So, they made their way across the park to the haunted house. Scarecrow had, somehow, built an entire house in the one month since he had broken out of Arkham. It looked like it had been torn right out of a video game, with the blackened, decaying, and peeling wood and rickety steps.
Jonathan Crane smiled when he saw the two of them approaching. He was dressed as a scarecrow, but the one from the Wizard of Oz instead of the creepy one he was usually dressed as.
“Crane!” Tim greeted.
Crane held out the plate of fear toxin brownies for them. “Nice to see you, Red Robin. And nice to meet you, Ladybug.”
Marinette blushed a little, her head tipping to the side. “I’d shake your hand but you haven’t set down that tray the entire time I’ve been here. Starting to think you can’t.”
He laughed a little. “I appreciate the sentiment.”
Tim smiled a little and popped a brownie in his mouth. Fear toxin tasted a lot like chili powder and, he had to admit, it was pretty good.
Marinette took a brownie with a lot more hesitance.
“Oh! Have you been exposed to fear toxin yet?” Asked Crane before she could take a bite.
Marinette looked a little worried about the use of the word ‘yet’.
Marinette shook her head, though. “No.”
“Then your immunity isn’t built up. I’d suggest just eating half of that.”
She nodded thoughtfully and broke the brownie in half. She held the halves in her hand awkwardly, unsure what to do now.
“I’ll take the half you haven’t eaten,” suggested Crane.
He set down the tray -- Tim swore he could hear a cartoon sound effect as the man struggled to unstick his hand to the metal -- and took her other half.
“Since it’s a lower dose it’ll probably take longer to take effect,” said Tim. “We’ll have to wait a bit so you can have the full experience.”
Marinette took a tentative bite and her eyes lit up. “This is really good. What’s your recipe?”
Apparently, Crane had once tried to replicate the taste with normal chili powder and had fallen short. Tim watched the two of them theorize what it could be that his attempts had been missing. It was clear that Marinette had missed living in a bakery more than she was willing to admit and, unfortunately, none of the bats were particularly good at even cooking basic meals, let alone the kinds of things she was able to do. Alfred was the only exception and, even then, Bruce wouldn’t let him near her most of the time because of Identity Reasons. Tim was glad that she had someone to talk to about it, he just kinda wished that that person wasn’t a Rogue.
Tim jolted out of watching them when Marinette started rubbing up and down her arms absently. Ah, the toxin must be setting in for her now.
“Ladybug, ready to head inside?”
She blinked and looked up from the conversation. “Oh. Sure. I’ll talk to you later!”
“I’ll try not to get thrown into Arkham by anyone else while you’re gone,” joked Crane.
Tim grinned and took Marinette’s hand, pulling her inside.
It turns out she actually wasn’t all that good with scary things. Or, at least, jumpscares. She clung to his arm, dull nails doing their best to dig into his skin.
On one hand, he kind of felt bad for telling her to come along. On the other hand he thought it was kind of cute, maybe the next movie they watched together could be a horror.
He would probably be able to enjoy it a little more if he wasn’t tripping out on fear toxin himself. There was a creepy little girl following them around and he wasn’t going to acknowledge her and her creepy little white clothes because talking to hallucinations is always bad.
But then, towards the end, she disappeared.
He didn’t like that either. It set him on edge. It shouldn’t, the fear toxin was just wearing off… but he didn’t feel like it was wearing off. He was still a little shaky and the buzzing under his skin was still present, so maybe she’d been real and something was up.
He got his answer when he heard the sound of little feet dashing overhead.
Marinette squeaked and her grip on his arm tightened, somehow.
When the end was in sight and Tim was waiting anxiously for the final scare, he heard someone running towards them. High pitched laughter echoed around them.
“Oh fuck no,” he yelped when he saw the little girl running towards them, arms outstretched, pretty white dress splattered with red.
Marinette seemed to agree with the sentiment. She nearly pulled his arm out of its socket as she pushed herself into a sprint. He stumbled awkwardly a few steps before catching his footing and returning the tight grip.
And then, like the vigilantes with nerves of steel they were, they ran from the child.
~
She tried to look calm when the door swung shut behind them. She was pretty good at managing her emotions, she thought (or, at least, good at pushing them down).
But it wasn’t necessary because, when they reached the safety of the outside, they were handed a framed picture of them sprinting away from the creepy little girl, horror written plainly on their faces.
She blushed, more than a little embarrassed.
Thankfully, she was quickly distracted from her embarrassment. Her eyes landed on Bruce, who was dressed as a vampire. She waved for his attention, intending to point out the similarities in their outfits to mess with him, only for his eyes to zero in on the wine bottle in her hand.
Marinette mumbled a curse.
She turned and pressed a ‘kiss’ to Tim’s cheek through her mask. “Gotta go,” she chirped, before promptly disappearing into the crowd.
Alright, time to avoid Bruce. Where is the last place she’d be? Actually, no, he’d probably check the last place...
Her eyes landed on where Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn were hanging out by the drinks.
Hm... a negative (people she was wary about) and a positive (drinks!) to balance each other out. A good middle ground.
She walked over and picked up a weird drink with a lot of different candies sticking out of it. She did not know why Scarecrow felt the need to sully the good name of alcohol with American candies but, since it was apparently the only option, she slipped a straw under her mouth to drink.
The drink was taken from her fingers.
She looked at her now-empty hand, brain struggling to catch up, straw hanging limply from her mouth. Then she spat out the straw and cursed.
She slowly turned to look at the person who had stolen it from her, expecting to see a disappointed Bruce, only to meet eyes with Poison Ivy.
(Ivy had dressed up as a stereotypical martian. Marinette wondered, vaguely, if actual aliens were ever offended when people dressed up like the movie versions of them.)
“I’d like that back, thanks,” she said, reaching for the drink.
She held it out of reach -- holy shit she was tall -- and raised an unimpressed eyebrow at her. “You’re a child.”
“I’m nineteen.”
“Exactly: a child,” she said.
Marinette rolled her eyes. Was this how Damian felt? Damn, no wonder he was always so angry about it… but, to be fair, Damian actually was a child. She was nineteen. She had a job and an apartment. Completely different.
But, since convincing Ivy she wasn’t a child wasn’t working, she had to come up with a new approach: “I’ve been drinking since I was six.”
For some reason, this didn’t seem to soothe the woman in front of her.
Thankfully, Harley Quinn -- who was wearing a knockoff Riddler costume -- decided to take pity on her: “Let her drink, Ives, Europeans drink differently than we do.”
Marinette and Poison Ivy exchanged confused looks. Marinette hadn’t gone out drinking with anyone properly in America outside of occasionally dropping into bars to trick old men into giving her drinks and then disappearing. Poison Ivy just, apparently, wasn’t aware of the difference.
“For them it’s a social thing, they don’t really get drunk like we do.”
Ivy hesitated. “You don’t get drunk?”
“I mean… we can get drunk,” she said slowly. She cringed visibly. “I did, once. The day I turned eighteen my mom told me ‘Just this once, to see what it’s like’... the pictures… they deleted them, but I will never live it down...”
She reached for the drink again and, this time, Ivy gave it to her. She was lucky she had her mask to hide the smirk on her face.
When Poison Ivy didn’t leave after that, Marinette knit her eyebrows together. The woman blushed (she blushed green?) and Harley pushed her towards Marinette a step.
“I would like to apologize for how we met…” Ivy said slowly. “Joker was an asshole in Arkham and I’d had a fight with Harley and I guess I just…” She snapped her fingers.
Marinette raised her eyebrows. “It’s fine. It’s not the first world-ending event I’ve had to stop because someone had had a bad day.”
Harley hesitated. “That’s… different.”
She shrugged. “New city, same shit… just sometimes easier, I guess. People are actually scared of Joker?”
“Now, that isn’t very nice!” Said a painfully cheery voice behind her.
She’d summoned him.
Marinette took a long, deep breath, before turning around to greet Joker and Punchline. They were dressed as circus clowns, because of course they would. “Hey! Still alive, I see.”
Joker smiled, like he always did. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Pretty sure you’ve died more than B-man over there,” said Harley.
“No clue why they keep bringing you back.”
Marinette’s eyebrows scrunched together. The man had died? And they had brought him back? Willingly? Weird.
“It’s ‘cause I’m Batsy’s favorite,” cooed Joker.
“Favorite punching bag, maybe,” said Ivy.
Marinette, wisely, decided to back up a step so she wasn’t between the two fighting groups.
“At least people pick him as their first choice,” said Punchline.
“You’d be the expert on what it’s like to be the second choice, I guess, since you’re just me but purple,” said Harley.
“I’m you but self-aware,” Punchline corrected her.
Ivy raised her eyebrows. “Some would say that’s worse.”
Punchline almost punched her.
She didn’t stop because of some amazing show of self-restraint, of course. Nightwing had just chosen that moment to drop down between the two groups. And then Nightwing, with his all-amazing powers of getting pretty much everyone on his side, got them to declare a truce and go to opposite sides of the room.
Marinette was a little disappointed as she took a sip of her drink. It had just started getting good.
But also: Nightwing!
“Is it true that you can do a quadruple somersault?”
Nightwing smiled widely.
~
Tim was beginning to think that maybe Marinette was so interested in Dick because she was secretly his long lost sister or something. They had the same ability to make even some of the worst people like them.
But, no. Dick having a secret half sister or something? How stupid would that be?
Still, Tim had seen her making friends with: all of his siblings that lived in Gotham, Scarecrow, Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, Dick (damn it, he’d hoped he could keep them apart just a little longer)... the only people she hadn’t gotten to like her were Punchline and Joker, and even then she was choosing to annoy them, who knows what would happen if she actually tried to befriend them… and now she was hanging out with Riddler...
He sat next to them on their bench. “I’m beginning to think you can’t make friends with anyone normal.”
She grinned. “It’s a blessing and a curse.”
Riddler (dressed as the gameshow host he would probably be if he hadn’t gone off the deep end) looked over at Tim with barely hidden disdain. “Red Robin,” he greeted coolly.
Marinette frowned. “Why don’t you like him?”
“Him and all the bats… they always answer my riddles before I finish telling them.”
“Well, that’s an easy fix: Red, wait until he finishes telling the riddles before answering.”
He scoffed. “Why would I?”
“For the drama!” Riddler said in a tone that made it obvious he thought it was obvious.
“Half the time you have people’s lives on the line. Lower the stakes and maybe we’ll be more attuned to the dramatic tension.”
Riddler scowled. “You bats just don’t appreciate my art.”
“You’d think that they’d be all for drama.”
“Right? They have a whole brooding cave! But I want high stakes and suddenly I’m too concerned with the vibes of things.”
Marinette grinned and leaned towards Riddler conspiratorially. “They have more than a brooding cave. They have brooding gargoyles, brooding rooftops, brooding cars… I once caught Red over there brooding on his motorbike. Who can brood on a motorcycle? It’s a motorcycle!”
Tim huffed. “I thought we agreed to keep that a secret.”
“Sorry, darling, it’s just too easy to mess with you.”
Tim started to respond, but then he realized something.
‘Darling’?
That could mean one of three things. He needed to excuse himself from the conversation to figure out which was the truth.
He sent the two of them a halfhearted glare. “I will not put up with this bullying any longer.”
“Fine, fine. If you’re going to come back, bring me a cookie.”
Tim rolled his eyes. “If I must.”
With that, he turned on his heel and strode off, a man on a mission.
After questioning all of the family she had talked to (she had yet to meet Jason, apparently), he determined that she didn’t use nicknames all that often. When she did it was usually just to make things quicker for herself. The only people outside of him that she ever used nicknames for were Bruce (‘B’) and maybe Damian (‘kid’).
And he had a nickname like that, too, of course. She called him ‘Red’ from time to time, probably just because she was too lazy to go through the hassle of saying his entire codename.
… but ‘darling’ was different. He had a pet name. In both identities, apparently.
Which meant one of two things:
a) he was special to her in both identities
or b) she knew he was Red Robin.
He was kinda hoping for the first one, but he wasn’t about to let emotions cloud his judgement. He sought out the world’s only accurate lie detector.
He found her surveying the crowd with Jason. They looked like they’d been transported directly from the renaissance, with her plague doctor outfit and his Shakespeare costume.
Tim grinned at them despite his slight anxiety. “Nice of you to bring a Green Arrow costume back from Star City, Flamebird.”
Jason touched the ugly goatee and mustache that both of them shared before sending him a glare. “And you all wonder why I don’t come home more often.”
“Really? I thought it was because you and Roy were --.”
Jason’s face reddened with either anger or embarrassment, Tim didn’t know and didn’t particularly care as his brother left them in a huff.
He couldn’t see Cass’s face but he could feel the disapproval.
“I just… I wanted to ask you something in private…”
Cass didn’t leave, so he assumed it was okay.
“Does Ladybug know our identities?”
Cass was motionless for a moment and he wished she didn’t have such a bulky outfit because it was hard to get a read on her…
And then she nodded, tapping the side of her forehead (the sign for ‘know’) to further emphasize the point.
He looked down at where Marinette was excitedly describing something to an enthused Riddler.
He’d been anxious about her finding out but, now that she had, he found that it was a huge weight off his shoulders. She knew who he was and she accepted it.
He leaned against the railing, a smile threatening to make its way across his face.
She accepted him.
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batarella · 3 years
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3 birds 1 stone - chapter 5
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‘Dick, Jason, and Tim. Supposed brothers 'till the end, until all three fall in love with you. Who wins your heart?
The man who earned it, the man who stole it, or the man who always had it?’
A/N: you’ll all either love me and give me a hug, or burn me at the stake. 
WORDS: 9119 WARNINGS: batarella being an evil witch 
MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST
-----
A head of black hair. You could see it behind one of the couches at the library. Tim. He was reading a book.
“Pretty bird?”
Jason crept up behind you with his eyes squinted. Then he peeked into the doorway you were standing behind to see what you were stalking like some creep.
“Trying to talk to Tim?”
You swallowed. “No…”
“And you’re hesitating?” Jason quirked up a brow. “Why else would you stand here for a minute straight?”
“You’ve been watching me for a minute straight?”
“I came from all the way down that hall. I forgot something at the cave. Came back and saw you staring at something at the doorway like a mugger.”
You rolled your eyes, then turned back to face Tim not realizing how much you were moving your jaw.
“Pretty bird, talk to him. We can all feel the tension like some kind of invisible string.”
“God, not you, too.”
“Oh it isn’t just me. Trust me. A lot of us have noticed. On Christmas Eve you’re all touchy and lovey on each other and the next minute you're avoiding him like the plague.”
“I get it,” you snorted.
“Tim needs it. You probably do to.”
You scoffed at him when he came over and placed his arm around your shoulder, facing Tim just as you were.
“Listen. When you want advice about boys, my brothers especially, talk to me because if there’s anyone out there who knows those two walnuts more in this house, it’s me.”
“Two?”
He snorted. “Come on. Don’t deny about Dick, too.”
“Fuck, don’t tell me everyone knows about that-“
“Quit worrying.” You glared at Jason as he ruffled your hair. “I’m the only one who knows about Dick, other than Steph but that’s only because you told her. So don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”
You rolled your eyes and pushed him off you.
“Remember,” Jason nudged your shoulder before he walked away. “I know my brothers best.”
You didn’t respond to that.
You waited until he was gone.
Then you stepped in, knocked, stood as still as a lamp.
Tim turned around and caught sight of you. He smiled, casually nodded for you to come in, and you did just that. Seeing that you were going to take the seat right beside him, he inched himself away.
Then he went back to his book. Kept himself occupied. He didn’t glance up at you even when you were so obviously staring at him.
Trying to keep things casual. Ignoring the obvious and only making things a whole lot weirder. You placed your hands on your lap and looked around the room. The coffee table was too far for you to just pick something up and have something to do, so was the next book despite you being in a library. You sank into the couch, your chin almost touching your chest to cower yourself away.
Though cowering right now would be the worst thing to do.
Tim looked up at you, eyes so soft you desperately wanted to melt. And he watched you so kindly, smiling despite it being clear that it still hurt.
“You okay?”
You just wanted to remember him looking at you this way forever.
At opposite ends of the same couch, with the window right in front of you so you could look into the gardens. Damian was outside. Meditating on the snow-covered grass and looking so peaceful. You wanted a bit of that peace.
“Y/N?”
Your throat had that itch, but it hadn’t hurt yet, giving you no reason to hide behind for not having anything to say. At the same time, you had everything and nothing to tell him.
“How are you?” you asked.
It was all you could say. You said it so swiftly, and it was basically all of what you wanted out of him. but barely, barely, could it cover the immense depth of what you wanted to know that was going on. Because behind that soft smile and that crinkle on his eyes, you knew Tim too much to know when he was about to break.
Not surprisingly, you should be looking the same way, too.
“I…” Tim put his book down on the arm rest and leaned towards you. “I’m alright, I guess.”
Maybe it was from the way you were looking at him. Wide eyed, yet with your mouth trembling and your hands kept to yourself. Like every spirit that kept you up had sunken so low towards the ground, you just wanted to sink even deeper until you couldn’t even see yourself.
When you kept your head down, thumb brushing over the back of your other hand, you heard Tim shift on the couch.
“I’m… I’ll be okay, Y/N…” Tim had faced away from you and leaned onto his knees as well, head to the ground between his feet.
The itch was starting to grow. Still it wasn’t enough to hinder you from talking.
“I’m sorry…”
“No,” he said. “Please don’t be sorry.”
You desperately wanted to just reach for him and hold his head to your neck, let him fall asleep in that couch wrapped in your arms so tightly, he couldn’t possibly feel safer anywhere else. But you couldn’t even do that, no matter how much he looked like he needed it.
“You didn’t deserve how I hurt you…” Tim whispered. “That was selfish.”
“Tim…”
You inched closer, but he backed away.
‘I love you.’
So close to just slipping out of your lips.
You weren’t too sure what would happen next. Frankly, you were too afraid of that.
You still loved him. Every bit of you throbbed at the sight of him. Both your arms constantly wished to hold him and stay. Your eyes lock onto him like you were seeing a sunset in Greece. Nothing passed when you weren’t worrying about where he was, wondering what went on in his head at times when you just catch him smiling. You stare at him for too long people often had to snap you out of a trance. You discretely did favors and the littlest things just to earn a laugh or even a smirk from him just because his smile meant everything to you. Your day was made from the sight of him laughing so hard he was on the floor clutching his stomach and you ended up realizing it was the most beautiful sight and the most beautiful sound you’ve ever witnessed. You always kept a side eye stuck on him wherever he was in the room, no matter what he was doing. Always, always put his happiness first over anything else. You watched him be with other people, watched him grow into this incredible man to admire and look up to. He never failed to make you proud. Never failed to earn your smile just as much as you worked to earn his.
Trusting him with your life. Letting him see all the hidden parts of you. Letting him see you with your leg off. Letting him hold you even when his hold meant two different things between you and him.
Seeing him slowly fall in love with you again, feel his touches warmer, his hands feel tighter, his gazes last longer, his words softer, his talks mean deeper, his eyes shine brighter.
Knowing with all your heart that he had fallen so deeply, desperately, undeniably in love with you all over again.
You not knowing if it was for the best…
Tim, with his long hair falling over to his face with his head dipped down, shut his eyes so tight it looked painful.
You never stopped loving him. Not even for a day. Torturing yourself to this extent, to care so much for someone who’d hurt you unlike anything and anyone else your whole life. Still holding on, with no plans of letting go, even when your own memories and trauma and your own feelings were screaming at you to forget him. When both your love for him and the pain from all those years ago never went away, coexisting into this mush of all the emotions you couldn’t possibly control.
Because looking at Tim hurt you just as much as it sparked your love. Not a day when you didn’t constantly long for him to be in your arms, but neither was there one when you forgot what it was like for him to just throw you aside.
The most agonizing, torturous thing you could possibly do to yourself. You wouldn’t know if kissing him would feel any different from Christmas night, or if that old spark would come back and convince you that this was a decision you made right.
And being with him, it would only make things so much worse. Telling him how you felt, no matter how strong and how much they just wanted to all be poured out on the table for him to know, it just wouldn’t make things any better for either of you. Because you’ve seen him fall in love with you the first time, when you were both just fifteen years old, he told you how much he loved you, when he asked you to be his, and you lept into his arms screaming ‘yes’ over and over until both your ears hurt.
And that had gone. Faltered. Crushed you into pieces you still haven’t been able to pull back together.
You don’t want to through all that again.
“Tim…” You needed to let this all out. “I wish there was something I can do…”
“Please… You have to believe me… I’ll be alright.”
It wasn’t so sudden. It wasn’t a surprise. Still, when his palms reached over to hold your hand so tightly, you shot up and stared unmoving at him.
“You still love me,” he said. “I always knew that.”
There was nothing more heartbreaking than the way he smiled at you then.
You just held his hand tighter, never looking away from him.
“But I hurt you too many times. I can't turn back what happened… I realize that now... I shouldn’t have made a move…”
“No…”
You knew he had more to say to you that he was trying to hold back. After he took his hand away, you felt too cold, too alone. You desperately wanted to lean into his chest.
The gifts. Tell him about the gifts. The Valentine’s present that he gives you without fail. The ones that only started arriving right after you’d broken up. How it would be the fourth year now since then. When you thought it was from Bruce who took notice of the things you liked until you eventually realized it was Tim making things right after he’d torn your heart apart. The perfectly wrapped silver box with a crystal-like bow. The BlueBear Sketchpad. The ten-piece Tremblay brush set. The five tubes of Lalande Acrylic paint. All the other gifts. All supposedly just gifts. All just things, but everything had been so carefully picked out, chosen to your best interest as if he knew exactly what to find, as if you’d told him all those yourself.
Only he could have possibly known you enough or have paid attention to all the sketchbooks and paint brushes you yearned for every year. Only he could have loved you that much to never forget to make you so happy. Only he could have possibly taken notice of the tools you like to use and how you did your work. Only he could have the guilt to make up for your broken heart.
Tell him about how those gifts practically made your career. Tell him how much they pushed you even further to be a better artist.
Tell him how the thought that was placed on every single gift, how you could just feel the love he’d left on the way he tied the ribbon. Tell him how much you appreciated everything so much that each time you look back at every gift, you could make an entire painting just from how inspired you were of him.
Tell him it was one of the reasons why you had partly healed and moved on, knowing he was still there looking out for you, supporting you, taking care of you, loving you even from afar.
Tell him how those gifts made you hold onto your love for him so much, that even now you just couldn’t let him go no matter how painful it was to want to stay.
He could have given you a stuffed toy from a crane machine or a burger from down the street for all you cared. It was the thought, and so much of thought came from each time you opened the gifts and it was adorned with little love notes, individually wrapped presents in a silver box. It not only looked like it came from him. It looked like it was meant to fit everything about you.
And perhaps, it will remain to be the biggest mistake of your life, when you continue to live on knowing you didn’t tell him any of those truths.
Because you just kept quiet.
It hurt how much he was just as silent as you were, punishing himself with his own thoughts that were probably just as cruel as the ones you were telling yourself. This was why it couldn’t be anymore. With him.
Being with him had so much love, and with it came so much angst. So much hurt.
And it hurt even more that you had fallen in love with Dick as well.
“I’m sorry.”
Tim stood up and left the room, and you didn’t look at him long enough to know if his gaze on you went on until he’d stepped out of the door or if he hadn’t looked back at all. Because you’ve grown far too stiff, far too frozen for you to react to anything, even when it had growntoo cold for the window to be open. Your muscles had set in place, you stuck on that couch. You didn’t bother to move even if icicles were to be forming under your chin.
And yet, even after you did what you had been telling yourself for so long, nothing changed. You still had that deep crater permanently staring back at you from where you could see your chest. You still had that dark emptiness that caved in each time you dove further into your poisonous, torturous thoughts. It didn’t do anything any better.
Six years ago, you chose Tim. There was probably no one else you could possibly think of to be your first love, your first boyfriend. You chose him and never looked back. You loved him more than anyone you could possibly learn to love even when you were far too young to even fully understand what love was.
You chose Tim, and when he’d hurt you, left you as you realized he didn’t choose you the way you’d chosen him over everything else, someone else came along and you learned to love him, too. And you realized that you could, in fact, love someone just as greatly and deeply as you did the first time. Maybe even more.
But that was what Dick had been to you. Someone you loved. Someone who brightened up the days that seemed pitch black for hours on end. You hated yourself knowing that no matter how much you loved Dick, he was still just a second to Tim, who you’d always choose first. Dick was someone who was only there because of the circumstance.
Someone you wouldn’t have fallen in love with if Tim hadn’t left you.
Someone you hadn’t kissed yet, even when you probably should have that night in front of the easel, because someone, the man who still had your heart was keeping you from falling into the arms of the man you so greatly wanted.
One of these days, you had to admit the truth. Never mind to anyone else. You had to admit it to yourself.
It didn’t matter if Tim was the one you loved the greatest or not.
You’re not holding yourself back from Tim because of Dick.
You were holding yourself back from Dick because of Tim.
-----
You never promised to stay longer than a week, or even longer than when you actually wanted.
You couldn’t take this anymore.
Your bag looked and felt a lot fuller than when you came in and it needed a bit of effort just to squeeze in your hoodie. Though it was definitely because you were just piling all your clothes unfolded without much care for creases, you just went with it and closed the zipper hoping it wouldn’t explode. Hands on your hips, eyes taking its much-needed break, you breathed.
“You’re leaving?”
Dick. He was at the door and he looked frantic.
You shrugged and played it as cool as you possibly could. “I think I should head home now…”
“It hasn’t been a week.”
“I have work,” you swallowed. Your coat was all the way over to the other side of the bed.
“Did we do something? I swear, we’ll leave you alone next time.”
“It’s not that.” You took your other bag filled with all your equipment. “I shouldn’t be staying here long. Besides. I know you’re going back to San Francisco tomorrow.”
“I-“ He looked nervous. “How’d you know about that?”
“Steph told me. You got something to take care of with the Titans?”
When you had both your heavy bags slung over your shoulder, you went over towards him.
“Yeah… I do… But I was gonna come back.”
“It’s fine. Seriously. Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you again when you come back”
You hand was on his arm and you smiled.
“I haven’t had a nightmare since I came here.”
Then your palm found itself on his cheek.
The way he was looking at you then…
“If you need anything at all, you know you have me.”
You pulled him so close to you, but he remained unmoving, stiff. Your arms were around his neck and you kept holding him tight even when you felt his own arms hold you back far too late.
When you backed away, Dick wouldn’t let you.
“Wait.”
His low, breathy voice, much more resembling a whisper. He held you by the waist and wouldn’t even let you pull your head back away so your mouth wouldn’t feel his breath.
“Can we go somewhere?”
You blinked. “Go somewhere?”
“Just the two of us.”
“Right now?”
“Right now.”
You finally pushed yourself away so you could stand on your own. Being so pressed so tightly against his chest was making you lightheaded.
“Why?” you choked. “Where would we go?”
“There’s this place I’ve been wanting to take you for a while.” Dick held both your hands and you didn’t know if you were dumbfounded at how intimately he was holding you or at the words he was blurting out right then. “It’s not too far off, but it’s quite the drive. It’s not as cold there, too. So it’s the perfect place to paint.”
“Paint?”
“Yeah…” He smiled softly. “I just thought you’d like that.”
Instead of a decline or even a snort at the ridiculousness of this spontaneity, which probably wasn’t spontaneity if he’d planned this out before, you were grinning.
“That a yes?”
You couldn’t exactly say no to him.
“Fine.”
“Take everything with you. Come on.”
Dick held your hand the whole way out, into his car, speeding out of the garage like some runaway driver in a car chase even with the snow-covered streets stopped him from going even faster.
Your heart was racing even when you were still sitting on the passenger seat and trying to hold back from smiling too much at the sight of Dick looking so panicky and jumpy at the intersection.
“I can't believe we’re doing this.”
“You don’t even know where we’re going. Just relax.”
“Excuse me, you relax. You look like your hair’s about to jump out of your scalp.”
Dick actually messed up his hair even more and smirked. You took your coat off, settled on the seat and reclined it back so you could lie down. “How long’s the drive?”
“About an hour. You can sleep if you want.”
Dick had slowed down, and his nerves most probably did too.
Your eyes were all on him the whole time as you slowly drifted into this light, calming nap, the first that hadn’t been over a night of too much thinking.
When you’d woken up, you could have sworn you were still in a dream, a trance, something that had come straight out of the own creative runs in your head.
On one side of the car, you could see the hill Dick was driving up to in a spiral. Snow-covered grass. Pine trees magically being blanketed by the white whilst still showing off that earthy green of their leaves. The cold, grey cement that the car was slowly driving up to. Everywhere you looked about, the hill looked magnificent.
Then there was the equally majestic other side. On your side of the car window. You peeked over, and where the road had ended, the cliff dropped all the way down into the crashing, roaring ocean that went further out into the far horizon stretching towards the end of sight. It wasn’t so blue as it was this mysterious, freezing gray that looked too similar to the road’s color, but that, with the white of the snow and the trees and the clouds that littered all over the sky, you’d say your breath would be taken away if you even had any left at all.
You only wished your paint would do any of this any justice.
Dick drove until you’d reached all the way up the hill.
Coat over your shoulders, you stepped out of the car and were surprised you weren’t freezing your fingers off when you were so high up and the sea so close.
“See.” Dick threw his arms up. “Not too cold, right?”
“It’s perfect.”
You were too enamored with everything in front of you that you hadn’t even noticed Dick had taken out your equipment from the trunk for you.
You walked over to the edge, to where the hill started to descend, and you had probably had the most perfect view there possibly could be on the planet, where the cold ocean met the snow-covered land, before it morphed into this forest of green spikes shooting up to the view of the ocean and the clouds that looked too much like the snow. There was no sun, but it shouldn’t matter. Not if you painted this fast enough. And this might actually be one of the most scenic things you’ll ever paint.
You turned back to set up your easel and Dick helped you with your paint. He even brought a chair for you that you hadn’t thought of bringing, and with all that, as you sat in front of your easel, you had no idea where and how you were going to bring justice to such beauty in front of you and cram it all into one measly canvas.
But you weren’t even worried, even when you probably should be. You weren’t too in your head and neither were you too frozen to move or start picking up your brushes and work.
And before you could even come back to your senses, already your brush had been dipped onto this mix of a darker white and you were downright copying everything that went on in the scene in front of you. And it might have just been from the cold that stung your cheeks in place so frozen, but you were smiling the whole time. Brush on the canvas, that sound of each stroke of the tip’s hairs that left on a line of color. You started mixing the darker gray for the ocean and the rocks, then you started on the hill at the bottom side from where you were sitting.
In front of you, Dick had walked over from just watching you work to admiring the view all the way over to the edges of the slope. Even with the cold and the drying snow, Dick sat on a dry spot and brought his knees up to rest his elbows on. That, with his black hair waltzing about with the wind blowing against him in the face and the coat over his shoulders the same color as his Nightwing suit, he looked just about as beautiful as the view itself.
Smiling as you watched him lay down on the grass, you looked down and got another brush for you to start with the horizon.
You kept it subtle, since it wouldn’t be the center of the painting. You worked with the waves and how it came crashing down to this rocky abyss, right before it shot up to this pine-covered hill. That was what you’d envisioned. And with each stroke of the grayish blue and the whites for the sea foam that looked similar to the clouds hovering above it, you continued with the pines.
“What’s the best part about it?” Dick was propped up on his elbows.
You tapped the brush onto the easel. “About the view?”
“Yeah.” He rocked about while he hugged his knees. “The ocean?”
“I don’t even know. Everything about it’s so beautiful.”
He didn’t know you started painting a black-haired man sitting at the side of the hill.
“Gotham can only give you so much beauty to work on. You don’t get to go out to the country much to paint.”
“I really don’t. It’s always skyscrapers and helicopters and busy streets,” you sighed. “It’s nice to have something else for a change.”
When Dick looked back to shoot you a glance, you were dabbing the end of a fat brush onto the hill for the snow that had grayish tones in for the dirt and uncovered patches. Your fingers started to stiffen, but you managed to ignore it and continued to work so calmingly that it didn’t even cross your mind how nothing was crossing your mind at all. Like your head had been so engulfed into this paradise you found yourself in that it gave you that favor you needed of not having any thoughts that controlled you and your emotions, gave you that minute of freedom from the confines of your own head, that light you so desperately seek for the past few years when you needed that light. The waves filled in for any other sound, the white and the snow brightening that black static from your nightmares. Your head blank from everything you’ve been dwelling on. And the tapping of your brush, every stroke, every dab, every color you mixed on the palette, it filled in for that urge in your fingers that urged you to do something about your situation and the problems and the circumstances you had to deal with.
This was heaven.
And you could have sworn it was definitely the view that did this, not anything else. But deep down, when you really thought of the realities that went on with how you felt and the last time you were brought to such gorgeous scenery, you’d know that the person you were sharing this with plays a significantly larger part in that calmness.
Perhaps hours had gone. Maybe two. Dick had stood up from his space on the ground and had taken another chair from the car to sit beside you. Then you heard a snicker when you’d finished up with ocean and the clouds and the pine trees and the hill and went on to the finishing touches of a handsome man looking out into the sea, with a blue coat and black hair flopping over his ears. He was looking to the side, faint red lips curved up, and his eyes, even with it so tiny, you could still see how it was the brightest blue in the picture.
Even with the view so breathtaking, you’d done so much justice to Dick’s beauty that only he could possibly contest the ocean. With the ocean so striking and the hill side so gorgeously done, all eyes would still end up on Dick, and he had on that smile he’d give you that always brought out the best in just about anyone he meets, takes away the darkness wherever he went, pulls anyone’s spirits up from the ground so much that you couldn’t possibly remember even the worst thoughts you’d otherwise never be able to escape from.
“I’m going out on a hunch here,” Dick said. His face was right beside you and your shoulders were touching. “But I do believe that’s me you just painted there.”
“Lucky guess.”
You placed your brushes onto the container on the easel and sat back. Tilted your head. Took advantage of the light whilst it was still there. Because in front of you, the sun that was tucked beneath the clouds had started to settle and soon enough it will be so cold you’ll freeze before it’ll eventually be too dangerous to drive around in the dark province. Though Dick didn’t look like he was too worried about that.
“I can't possibly look that good.”
You guffawed. “I think I did just about right with one of the best-looking men on the planet.”
“Aren’t you the charmer,” he winked. And you shook your head to avoid looking at him in the eye too much and choke.
You placed all your paint back into your bag, along with your brushes and rags. Then Dick folded up the easel and you held the now dried painting up in your arms, holding it up to match the view you just took it from. As you lowered it, the sun had gone, and it was dark.
“Dick.”
He came up behind you, hands in his coat as it was starting to get really cold, then when he was in front of you, you handed the canvas over to him.
“It’s for you.”
He smiled. “I brought you here for you. As much as I love it. You should keep it for yourself. When’s the last time you painted just because you wanted to?”
Everyday, his words never fail to remind you how deeply you’d fallen over. “I-I don’t…”
“Exactly. You don’t. Hang it up on your room. Wouldn’t hurt to have a bit of me up on your wall.”
With your brow up, you wanted to titter as he took the painting for you and placed it in the back seat. You trailed behind him, hugging yourself in your jacket when the wind that was blowing up on that hill were getting much stronger than your tolerance.
You blew hot air into your hands, scrunched yourself up into this stiff body, then when Dick turned back around you wished you weren’t shaking so much like a goof. With a handsome little smile, he came up to you and held your arms tightly in his palms.
“You’re cold?”
“No, actually I think it’s a little humid.”
You thought he’d stop at your remark but he just rolled his eyes and kept rubbing your elbows to keep you warm. “Aren’t you cold?”
He shrugged.
The little street lights at the side of the hill were all there was, because it was pitch dark by then. And when you looked out into the far end of the other side, behind the view you were just looking at, the city lights contested with the country side’s calmness. Although it was so beautiful, and even with your place being so quiet, you still could hear the bustling noises you wanted a break from now.
Dick was leaning against the car, and you felt how his hands longingly lingered on your arms just before he slipped them off of you. But even then, you still felt close. You were standing in front of him, alone in the gloom in the best place on earth. And with the silence, more so could you hear the ocean against the hillside rocks. The smell of salt from the sea and the earthy musk of the hill made it all the more calming.
You met Dick’s eyes, wide-open and glimmering. His forehead was creased up, hands in his pockets, he looked at you so enthralled by how close you were standing that it pulled you to take another step closer.
“If you won't stay at the manor…” He licked his lips. “Is it okay if I visit you a lot? Like, a lot more than I already do?”
You wished you didn’t sound so casual like you were just talking to Cass or Duke, just friends. “Of course, Dick. You’re always welcome.”
And even when he was so obviously trying to hide it, the way he flattened his lips and faced the ground let you know that it killed him.
You sighed. “Sorry, I just… With what happened with Tim-“
“I know,” he said. “I know what happened.”
“You do?”
“Well, I know something happened. I honestly wished I realized that before I invited you over. I had no idea then.”
“It’s alright.”
Still, he was looking at his feet. You toyed with a rock with the tip of your shoe, and accidently you tapped on his.
“I’m glad I did.”
“Really?” He looked up.
“Yeah.”
His back was no longer against the car, so he was standing even nearer to you, close enough that your toes would touch and linger to stay. Creases at the corners of his eyelids. His lips so plump and looking so soft.
Dick was definitely glancing at your lips as well, with the way he was looking at you, eyelids now relaxed and his mouth parted slightly enough for you to have a peek of his teeth.
He was so beautiful…
“I’m glad your stay at the manor made you feel better.”
No more games. You wanted him too much.
Is it selfish to go through with this? Knowing what was going to happen?
“Dick…” you gulped. “It wasn’t the manor…”
He didn’t look surprised. He wasn’t moving, nor did he react. But you could feel how his breath had quicken, his eyes open wider, how that relaxed concern turned into this breathless panic even when he was standing so still.
Though you wanted to cry, you found yourself smiling.
That same smile that always seemed to silence him. The one that lingered in minds and stopped all things happening around. And with how you were standing so close to Dick, you were practically giving him the whole world.
You swallowed.
A hand on your cheek. You didn’t even notice it come up until it was holding your face so firmly and warm, you wanted to melt right then. It was so dark, but with so little light, you could still see his eyes. And the cold breeze that had long passed, you couldn’t care to notice. Your body wanted to shiver, but you kept still.
“It’s you…”
He wasn’t exactly smiling.
In fact, Dick looked nothing else but relieved.
You could feel it in the way his hold on you loosened and his eyes drooping so low from how he was so close to just falling into you, and how his other hand had now found itself on your waist.
Even when you were silent, you just knew exactly what he wanted to tell you.
And he told you everything, without uttering a single word, when he so lightly touched your lips with the radiating warmth of his own.
You closed your eyes. He smelled like jasmine.
Then you listened to everything he had to say.
‘Finally. Finally, when I thought you’d never get to be mine. Kiss me, and I’ll make it all go away. The pain. The darkness. I’m here for you for so long as you’d have me.’
Your arms had long circled his neck before you even realized it. Fingers lost in his thick hair, so tightly holding on so he couldn’t possibly pull away. Then there was the way he was holding your waist, and you moved about, pushing on each other, pulling towards each other. Beating and throbbing and just getting every bit of the kiss you possibly could. As the winds started to blow harder, you started to shiver from the sudden gust of cold, but he held you even tighter as if he knew.
So, so beautiful. And so magical. The voices of angels right up against your ear. Some sultry song perhaps, guitar strings that go so well with the ocean. Because even if you had the strength to possibly hold it back, tears had fallen to your cheeks. This was too long awaited. Too long have you wanted to kiss and hold him and finally he was here with you.
‘Y/N’ he continued to say when his tongue so sensually parted your lips. ‘I never thought I’d have you. I never thought I could want someone I could never have as much as I wanted you. Please have me, too.’
You hand gripped on the fabric on his chest, under his jacket, and Dick grabbed hold on your hand and so slowly brought it up to his face, which you held so dearly, you heard a deep moan escape his lips.
But even if you weren’t standing on that hill, when the waves of the sea weren’t rolling against the cliff and the winds were so nicely blowing your hair all over or even if you hadn’t spent the past few hours being mesmerized with the most beautiful view by the side of the most beautiful person, nothing could change how sweet your kiss was. Dick held your body so tight, and for so long did it last, you had no idea just how much this was going to dawdle against your skin. The balm. The song. It was all too much like you were floating in the clouds.
Dick was leaning into you that you had your back arching, then you pushed back, hands all over the back of his head, and when your moth parted so open, his tongue was all over you and you just wanted to fall to the ground. Your strength just couldn’t keep up with him any longer.
When your hands were on his cheeks, you were surprised to feel tears there as well.
‘I love you.’
You didn’t want to make yourself believe that was actually what he wanted to tell you, because with the way he was kissing you, how hot his tears felt and how they continued to seep out of his eyes, how he watched your face move like he wouldn’t miss a detail for the world, it all seemed to point towards it being the truth.
But it couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be.
And just like all good things, reality caught up.
With your arms now against his waist, Dick went on to pepper light kisses all over your face. Your eyelids. Your cheeks. Your nose.
Then you had your forehead leaning against his. Even with his touches, how securely he held you, you swallowed.
And you just wanted to burst out crying.
Because even with all those other things he told you with that kiss, it all dawned to you at that one, excruciating moment when you stopped being so obsessed with his lips, looked at him in the eye and read between the lines. Because it was all so clear, you just wished you’d seen it sooner. His kiss told you many things, but it also told you more than you hoped.
It was the way his throat hitched when you looked at him so longingly. You weren’t so sure at first, but you were sure of it now.
“Y/N-“
“Kori’s back…” you whispered. “Isn’t she?”
The way everything fell. His face. The shift in his cheeks and eyes. You could tell he wanted to back away. And you did it for him.
He just pulled you closer, but he didn’t even have to answer you anymore. You wiped that long-fallen tear from your cheek and shook your head.
“That’s why you’re going back?” you said. “You’re going back to see her.”
“Y/N, I swear I was going to tell you-“
“It’s okay…”
Maybe it wasn’t such a good thing that even with the god-awful sting that slapped your chest, you still managed to smile and caress the side of his face so gently, you just knew the chaotic discourse going on in his head was just as irrepressible as yours.
“It’s okay. Dick…” You thumbed his cheek. “Go back to her.”
“Y/N, please listen to me,” he held both your hands now. “It isn’t her I’m going back to. There’s this thing that the League. And they’re calling the help of the Titans. Everyone has to get on board and Kori had to be called in-“
“Dick…” you said. “ You were supposed to marry her.”
“That’s-“ he was trembling. “I know. But it was my choice to call it off and I didn’t even get to talk to her after I left. I at least owe her that. A talk. But I swear, it’s all there will be-“
“Dick… Please…”
You let go of his hands.
“Y/N,” he swallowed and his voice stiffed and deepened. “I swear to God, I know for a fact that you’ve known all these years. You couldn’t possibly have told yourself it wasn’t true. You know I want you. I’ve always wanted you, and you’ve always known that.”
“Dick-“
“You’ve always been…” He loosened his hold on you just in case you didn’t want to be held so tightly. “Always. It’s you.”
Lips between your teeth, you kept your eyes closed. And just as he’s let go, you backed away.
“Then why does it feel like you’re saying goodbye?”
Goodbye.
Goodbye.
You felt it the moment he said he had to take you somewhere so suddenly, when he took you to the most beautiful place on earth and looked at you like it was the last time. Goodbye. That was the word you instantly thought of after all those moments. You couldn’t point it out, and it never raced from the back of your head, all until you finally said it and it was out in the open. Goodbye. This was how he was saying goodbye.
“I’m-“
“Dick, it’s alright.”
“It’s not.”
Dick held your face again.
One more kiss. It truly, definitely felt like goodbye now. So soft and gentle were his lips, you held his wrists and so slowly pulled them away from holding your face. And when he had lost his hold, you backed away.
And after a long, painful moment of quietness, staring at the empty grass, letting the wind get in between, Dick wiped his eyes with his sleeve and went around to the driver’s seat of the car.
You got in. And as he started up the car, you closed your eyes.
Dick didn’t deserve to be in this mess.
Because in those fantasies you let your mind wander off to when you were being good to yourself, you could only imagine ever being with Dick when times were perfect, when you had the whole of your heart solely belonging to him, when you weren’t loving anybody else, when he had the propriety of all your love and effort directed to him. When there was only peace, light, and if there were to be darkness, only his presence was called for and it would fix everything. Only then could you allow yourself to commit to him. When you knew you had your demons set aside no longer to come back.
Because he deserved to have that perfection. That light. He deserved to have you bring that light into his life just as much as he brought that light into yours. He deserved nothing less than all that brilliance he’d trail behind and he deserved to be as carefree and happy as he made you. Dick deserved that kindness. That peace.
You loved him too much to possibly give him the you that you were now. Still hung up on Tim. Still having that internal dilemma. You had to hold back. At least now, when you knew it just couldn’t be.
And he had Kori.
Dick can only say so much now, how nothing was going to happen. But it won't be the same when they see each other for the first time in a year. That spark will come back. He’ll fall in love with her all over again.
And you’ll have done all this for nothing.
So no, you weren’t going to give all of you to him now. Not when you were rational enough to know what to expect.
You reached your apartment.
“Thank you, Dick.”
He couldn’t even look at you in the eye.
“I’ll see you…”
Dick gripped on the steering wheel.
“Bye…”
His voice wasn’t at all solid or frustrated. He kept that softness that was always there when he was with you. He whispered it out.
And with that, you were certain that this was, in fact, goodbye.
You got all your things from the back and went into the apartment. You heard him drive off soon after.
You basked in that loneliness. The silence. Realizing that maybe it was possible that the manor cured your dreams.
You took off your coat. Changed for bed
You took out all your clothes from your bag and put them all in the laundry.
You went over to the kitchen to get a glass of water.
As it almost fell into midnight, you pulled out your equipment bag to clear it out.
You got your extra canvases, your paint brushes, your paint, and for a moment you ignored the silver box that sat on the floor of your bag for a long while to place all your supplies all around your studio.
By the time you finished, you were sweating. But you brushed it off. You drank from your glass again and went back to your bag to pull out that silver box.
Then you stopped.
The silver box. With a crystal-like bow on top. Your name scribbled on top. Everything wrapped so perfectly with the gentlest hands.
Your fingers were trembling as you pulled on the bow and took out the cover.
A BlueBear Sketchpad.
A ten-piece Tremblay brush set.
Five tubes of Lalande Acrylic paint in periwinkle blue, mandarin yellow, raw umber, antique gold, and viridian. All different colors from last year’s Valentine’s day.
A six-piece charcoal pencil set.
A necklace with a color-wheel pendant. One you found at the art fair but couldn’t buy for yourself.
Pencil pouches with your name engraved on a gold plaque.
A palette the shape of a lily made of ceramic.
A letter.
You knew exactly what was going to be on there.
You already knew what was going to blow over when you open that envelope.
But as much as holding back can get you so far, you couldn’t possibly hold yourself back from this.
You didn’t dwell on that question for too long. You didn’t want to stop yourself.
You sat yourself down on your bed and opened it.
 .
‘Y/N.
If I could go back, by some sort of possibility, you don’t know the things I’d change.
I won't go back to when you and Tim broke up and I swooped in to take care of you without bringing things any more than what we still are now. Friends. If anything, that was far too late for me to do anything.
I won't go back to before I had anyone else in my life, to before the wedding, to when I was supposed to get married. I wouldn’t go just to tell myself right then to leave and go to you. Still, it was far too late.
If I could change anything that’s ever happened, I’d go back to before you met Tim. So then, with you unknowing, you’d have met me first.
I’d give up my life for you to have met me first.
And I’d take it from there. I would have been the one to bring you to the manor and introduce you to my family, to Tim, and he would have my place in sitting in the sidelines, watching us get together and be together and kiss under the moonlight on rooftops and jump down skyscrapers and fight for those who can't fight for themselves side by side. Tim would have been the one who’d fallen in love with you regardless of having you wrapped in my arms and longed so much to have you in the room, settle for what he’d have and only meet you when other people are around. He would have been the one to watch us be the happiest couple he’s ever seen and have the selfishness to secretly wish we’d break up and he could have you for himself. He would have been the one to seek comfort in others, meet other people, try to have that kind of love we had and fail because he’s just so stuck up on you, someone he can't have, and give up on anything else that could have possibly made him happy because he only wanted you.
And he would have been the one to watch you hurt so much, get his heart broken each time he had to watch you cry over his brother who’d wasted away the best person he’s ever come to meet. Tim would have been the one to hate me for ever hurting you that way, because I had somehow forgotten that I could never have anything that I should choose over you, while Tim has had to keep himself aside knowing you could never be his but just can't stop to yearn for you. Tim would have been the one to come up to me one day and tell me that I was going to regret it for the rest of my life, letting you go.
But none of that happened. Tim was me. Tim met you first. And I, unfortunately, was the one at the sidelines in this story watching you both. And I hate it.
But I tell myself that if I had just met you first, that if I was just given the chance, I would have you right now. It probably isn’t true, because you and Tim weren’t even together yet when you and I first met. You chose Tim.
You chose Tim. And I would have been okay with it if he hadn’t hurt you so much.
And it might have been one of the worst things I could have ever done to you, spend too much time with you the last three, almost four years. Not look away when you caught me staring and let my compliments out of hand. Because I ended up hurting you, too.
By the time you had broken up with Tim, I had Kori. I won't say I didn’t love her. And I definitely won't say I’m happy our wedding didn’t push through.
But on that day, when I stood on that altar as the supposed groom, I caught your eye in the crowd.
And when I saw how you looked at me, trying to hide your tears. You were trembling. Your lips were shaking, and I saw the same look on your eyes as when you had your heart broken the first time.
I wanted to run to you right then. Because I realized, with how you had to watch me stand at that altar and not have you walk down that aisle, that you felt the same way I did for you.
The wedding stopped, and I had the choice to still go through with it or not.
But I didn’t want to be the reason why you had to be hurt the second time. No one, not even me, is going to hurt you. Not when I have a say on it.
But even if it weren’t true, if you didn’t feel the same way, I knew no one was ever going to have my heart the way you have mine.
So I took the risk.
I knew you still had feelings for Tim. No one was going to deny it. Tim had fallen for you again and by then I was sure I’d never get my chance. But it didn’t even matter anymore.
I choose you. Over everything.
I’m telling you all this not knowing what’s going to happen next, and it’s probably one of the most selfish, most dangerous things I’ve ever done. Cowardly, too, since I’m telling you this right before I leave the next morning. I don’t even know what I am going to do.
Believe me, if you choose Tim again, knowing he was going to make you happier than he ever did, never hurt you, bring out the best parts of you that I’d fallen for everyday, then I myself would tell you to choose him. There’s nothing I could ever ask for more than to see you smile. Even when I’m not the reason behind it.
But I’m writing you this letter, just in case you had doubts, because you deserve to know that if things don’t go the way you first wanted it, that I’m still here. And I’m telling you, whatever I’ve done to brighten up your darkest nights so far, I will do it all over again ten times just to prove to you that I will do everything I can to make you just as happy. Maybe even happier.
I keep myself alive so I can still be around to make sure you’d being cared for, no matter how much you’d hate that. This might have been too overwhelming, and I’m so sorry for that.
I don’t know for how long I’ll be gone, but I don’t think I’ll be there for Valentine’s to give you these gifts. I’m glad they make you happy. I made sure to take note of the tools and paint you like when I watch you work because nothing seems to make you happier than painting. I haven’t missed a year. I’m not about to miss now. Even when it means having to tell you the truth.
And this is it. The truth.
I never thought I could love someone this much, someone who was never even mine. But I do.
I love you.
   - Dick
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MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST
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A/N: 
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littlefreya · 4 years
Text
The Kitten & The Bear - Part 2
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Read Part 1
Summary: Walter’s bratty wife has gotten herself in trouble with the law. meaning her own husband. 
Pairing: Detective Walter Marshall x OFC (first person pov)
Word count: 4k
Warnings: Bratty behaviour, dominant BDE husband, abuse of power, arrest, bondage, teasing, grinding, loads of sexual innuendo, mentions of oral, promiscuous behavior, fingering, lewd and dirty talk, manum sasquatch Walter.  
A/N: So both Marti and I were so anxious you guys won’t like it and we were literally overwhelmed by the amazing reception, so thank you so much guys! As promised, here is part 2! The thickens plot! Reminding you this is a collab between @wolvesandhoundshowltogether​ and I based on your role play game. 
Title: The Kitten & the Bear
With the alcohol flushing through my veins, mingled with the sheer exhilaration of anger, I became more daring than ever.
“I think you are just scared because we both know you are never going to tame me.”
With the harsh grip of Walter's arm, I was yanked from the hood, turned and forced to look at his face.
"Do I look like I'm enjoying it?" It resonated in his mind that he was going to have to take his own wife, whom he'd just arrested, to the precinct where everyone knows him. 
'For fuck's sake!' This may jeopardise his career at MPD. A detective having a wife with a police record... 
'Fucking great'.
It's one thing that I acted like a brat at home, but that was his workplace, where he'd have to take me - looking like that. 
His cock twitched as he looked at my dress again.
~~~
Colder than the air itself, the deprived energy in Walter's cerulean gaze cut like diamonds. There was a battle in his glassy cold stare, and I recognised that furious desire, being the only person who really knew Walter Marshall. His hand was still on my wrists, pressing the cuffs hard against the small of my back and my thighs slightly parted as he stood too close.
I trembled and not just from the chilling cold. "If you are asking for my sincere opinion, then yes, I think you are, by the look of it," I answered and gandered down his groin and back at his face, giving him a bitchy grin. "I strictly remember ending with your head between my thighs last time I wore this dress" I provoked. "Hold on to that memory, it's going to be a while." 
Walter cocked his head to the side, pretending to think about my ultimatum, before suddenly stepping closer to haul me flush against him. I felt not only the warmth of the bulge at his groin but the cold hard outline of his gun against my stomach. I gasped as he leant close to my face and his lips hovered over mine while he ground his hips against me. 
A moan escaped me when he suddenly pulled back.
"Don't make threats you can't keep. Your little cunt is always hungry for attention."
Keylah and Stephanie exchanged astonished glares between them as they watched the heated battle. I continued to frown, trying to remain stoic, but the creeping chill made me tremble as the freezing metal of the car pressed against the back of my knees.
His obliviousness to how cold I was, the way he was treating me and his words only further fuelled my anger. I was like an unleashed hellcat, unable to stop my own stupid mouth.
"Don't test me. Both you and I know how clingy you are Mr. "promise-me-you'll-never-leave-me." I spat back his own words to him. Words he blurted out in a vulnerable moment the night before while he was making sweet, intimate, passionate love to me. 
It really was a low blow from my side.
Walter felt like his stomach got headbutted by an angry bull when my cruel words registered. The previous night he found me at home with the entrance door unlocked while I'd been blasting music. He had an exceptionally shitty day as a criminal who abducted a woman from her own home had to be set free for lack of enough evidence against him.
The fight that followed between us culminated in passionate makeup sex. He asked to be handcuffed to the headboard so that he wouldn't unleash all his desperate anger and accidentally hurt me. In an especially vulnerable moment, he begged me never to leave him, not for what he does nor for who he is. 
And here I was, throwing it back to his face.
"Fucking bitch," he hissed so only I could hear it. I gasped as I could see the exact moment Walter transformed back from my husband to the cop who responded to the crime scene. As if he suddenly needed to hide behind the mask of a stoic, invulnerable officer.
Without another statement, he grabbed one of my forearms, dragged me to the open back door of the car and tossed me inside. My upper body landed on Keylah's lap while he circled the car, got in the driver's seat and started the engine.
"Pig!" I shouted at him as Keylah helped me adjust and deliberately pushed me to sit in the middle seat so I could stare at him during the ride to the station. I leaned back, looking at him through the rearview mirror. He was not staring back, keeping his forbearing eyes on the road.
"Sooooo…" Stephanie uttered, "Magnum, is it really 10 inches?"
Walter just glared at Stephanie but provided no answer. After a moment's pondering, he threw a glance at me through the mirror, and drew one of his brows up, challenging me to answer Steph.
I crooked my eyebrow back at him, spreading my legs to show him the red silk panties I wore beneath my dress. 
"Well you know, it's basically a cock that has a man attached to it." 
Keylah snorted and shook her head with disbelief, "No fucking way she is that lucky, I call bullshit, sorry Walter." 
Again Walter didn't reply to her, just straightened in his seat a little and cocked his chin forward, keeping one hand on the steering wheel. If his whole demeanour wouldn't have answered Steph's question, it was my blush, visible even in the dark backseat, that made it clear that Walter's big dick energy did not end with the energy. Both girls gasped. 
"Fuck, bitch!" Keylah squealed, and they both started giggling while I remained silent as the blush permeated to my chest. 
"But what I want to know is if the police baton's thick too," Stephanie added and stared at me. I remained quiet for a moment, spreading my legs further for him to see the sticky patch at the apex of my body. Between every street lamp, the light danced over the backseat, illuminating the girls and me.
"Look at him," I finally uttered, "everything is thick and girthy, especially his skull".
The girls howled with excitement.
My lewd reference to Walter's size and girth made the corner of his mouth twitch almost unnoticeably as he was watching the road with an unbearably cocky expression. His eyes then ventured to the rearview mirror. Immediately they widened, and his face hardened simultaneously when he noticed the little dark spot on my panties between my spread legs. He instantly turned his head back to the road and switched the radio on. 
I could see the little twitching muscle in his cheek, his jaw straining as he noticed me spreading my legs. The fact that the gals wouldn't shut up about his cock and began making jokes didn't help either. I squirmed slightly on the leather seat and bit my lip, letting him see what he can't have. 
"Magnum, I bet you are one of them who likes it when she gags on your big fat cock."
"Steph, I'm sitting right here!" I called out. "You can just ask me, and I'll tell you how deep he likes to go!"
"I bet, Jen has a broken cervix, that's why she takes a lot of days off from work," Keylah laughed. "Detective Walter Marshall, cervix destroyer." 
Losing all patience Walter slammed the break, and we scrambled forward against the partition.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP, ALL THREE OF YOU!" His eyes were blazing as he turned his head back and looked at us between the two front seats. "Do you even understand you're going to a holding cell?" 
But before Keylah or Steph could blurt out some snarky comment, I breathed out "Yes, sir", which immediately short-circuited Walter's mind. He was the one yelling for silence, yet I quieted him with two syllables. He bit both his lips, turned back and started driving again.
The girls glared at one another, shivering, unable to hide the twinge of exhilaration from Walter's alpha behaviour and how it broke me into submission. On any other day, I'd have told them to back off from my man, but we all knew it was prohibited to speak right now.
The rest of the drive to the station passed in lingering silence. Keylah brushed and fixed my hair carefully while I glared at Walter - half angry, half lustful and utterly missing my husband. Still, my ego prevented me from showing any emotion other than rage. 
As he finally parked the car, I looked at the giant stuffed bear next to him. Still rather intoxicated I whispered to the girls "there are two of them."
~~~
After Walter parked the car, he remained seated for a couple of seconds. The reference that he was my big bear sent little tendrils of softness straight into his heart at a most inconvenient moment and looking at me through the mirror he only started to realise that I will be exposed at the police station. 
Care, duty and the desire to discipline me were warring inside of him.
"Keylah, Stephanie, get out and give us a minute" he orders the girls. 
~~~
The girls opened the doors from each side. They quietly exited the police car, giving me a sympathetic look and standing outside, hugging themselves from the cold of the night. I kept quiet, looking at Walter and waiting for him to speak while chewing the inside of my cheeks.
 It was then that I realised how painful my wrists were with the cuffs around them. I wanted to go home, I hated him right now. 
Walter sensed my hatred and distress and opened his mouth to speak, "The better you'll behave, the quicker this will be over." 
He waited for a response, but I said nothing, so he drew his brows. "If you decide to behave yourself, I'll take off your handcuffs right now, and you can retain a shred of dignity at my workplace." Still nothing. "So the way this will go down depends entirely on you." 
My legs began to jump anxiously while I kept gnawing at the soft tissue of my mouth until it began hurting, "you proved your point, Walter, I want to go home now," I answered with irritation, feeling completely helpless. He gave a heavy sigh and lowered his gaze to the red slutty pumps around my feet, 
"This wouldn't have happened if…" I began speaking.
Forcing his eyes from my red shoes and mouth-watering legs, Walter interrupted me by shooting me a hard look, "...if you hadn't vandalised the store. Don't even try shifting the blame."
He got out, stepped to the back seat door, leaned in and pulled me out. I stood on wobbly legs when he gave me one last chance. "I ask again. Can you behave yourself enough to go in without handcuffs?"
His sheer hulking height and his broad shoulders dwarfed me. Even with these heels, I was puny compared to him. But then again, Walter was known as the largest guy in town. Visibly shaking, my legs almost bucked down as he looked at my face anticipating an answer. What agitated and excited me most was how professional he remained.
"I'm not going to run or hurt anyone," I said matter-of-factly. "I'm still your wife, not some criminal in case you forgot." I looked away from him, indicating that I was hurt by his mistreatment, wrongly thinking I deserved special treatment.
"I haven't forgotten that you're my wife," Walter retorted. 
How could he ever? 
Taking out a small key from his pocket, he turned me to uncuff my wrists and continued behind me, "But as far as this whole ordeal is concerned, tonight you are first and foremost a person in custody, and I'm the arresting cop, so behave accordingly."
His words and the sensation of his fingers around my wrists made my entire skin tingle and become riddled with goosebumps. For whatever reason other than him being my husband, I was longing for him despite my anger and how degrading this situation was, perhaps even because of it.
"Yes, Sir", I answered coldly, my eyes floating to the dark sky before he guided me toward him and our eyes met fiercely. 
The way our gaze clashed made time stop. He could see the scared longing in my glare, and I could see for the first time tonight his inner conflict.
I didn't have time to further contemplate this because Walter's hand shot out, grabbed my nape and pulled me close to a devastating kiss. He drew my head so that my ear almost touched his mouth so he could whisper, "It's going to be alright, my little wild cat."
Both Stephanie and Keylah gasped behind us and then whispered between them, giggling like cheerleaders. 
My chest was nearly empty as I looked up to his gaze, my lips swollen with need. It became very apparent that we hadn't touched one another for the last 24 hours and fuck, I just wanted more. No matter how aggravated and humiliated I felt, I wanted my big grizzly bear to touch me. 
He spun me around to lead me in. My legs almost failed me. It was cold, I was shaken from the kiss, and the last thing I needed was all his colleagues seeing me like this. 
Walter headed into the building followed by us. It provided a very comical scene as I insisted that Walter bring the teddy bear in for me. When we entered the bullpen, everyone got quiet seeing the big scary cop with a huge stuffed bear under an arm, surrounded by the three dolled up, tipsy babes. 
The sergeant blurted out "What the hell?"
I beamed at him "Hey, Sarge. How's Sue? We came to party!"
"No, they didn't." Walter cut in angrily as everyone was ogling me.
I couldn't help but smile and wink at all the guys, behaving as if this was nothing but a show, while both Stephanie and Keylah snickered seeing all the baffled looks. It was as if the moment we had an audience, we regressed into thinking we owned the place, marching past Walter as if he was our guard dog rather than our captor.
I flung my hair from side to side, snapping my heels and swaying my hips to emphasise the curve of my ass. I could feel the shift in Walter's demeanour, and I suddenly paused and bent over in front of him, pretending to fix the strap of my heel so he could get a good look of my ass.
"What's going on?" the sarge asked amused and Walter had to blink fast to drag his eyes off my slutty pose.
"They are the perps of the store vandalism." 
Everyone's jaw dropped, but I shrugged innocently.
"I just wanted a teddy bear," I pouted.
Having had enough, Walter grabbed my upper arm and signalled to the girls to follow us to a desk.
"You want some coffee, ladies?" Toby asked with literal heart eyes.
"They are NOT guests." Walter hissed, but I answered sweetly, "Milk, no sugar, please."
He pushed me down on the chair, and by the firmness of his grip, I knew he was forcing himself to be as gentle as possible. My ass hit the hard plastic with a small huff, and I giggled at the smack.
"Don't move!" Walter grunted as he went to get the paperwork. Obviously, the girls and I began whispering between us, giving Walter sneaky glances and then chuckling loudly.
Not understanding Walter's message, Toby came along with a hearty cup of coffee, handing it to me.
"You're a saint," I thanked him and took a gulp, groaning as the liquid hit the back of my throat. "That's a really great tie, Toby," I then added and got up to lean forward on the desk, grabbing his tie and examining it up close.
I knew every single guy at the station was currently staring at my ass, whether they wanted to or not. It took me back to prom year when every guy in school had wanted to get a piece of me, and none of them had a flying chance. I couldn't deny I loved the attention, especially after having none of it all day long as my husband was acting more like a cop than a lover. 
Walter marched back to the desk, ordering the lovestruck Toby to fill out the reports of Keylah and Steph, and dragged me away. 
The officer at fingerprinting jumped as a huge sasquatch of a detective kicked the door open and marched in, dragging a smirking babe with him. 
"C-can I he-"
"I'll handle it. Get out" Walter barked at him. The guy scurried away, and Walter sat me down, circling the fingerprinting station. I watched mesmerised as he silently, methodically prepared the ink pad.
Intimidation struck the chords of my heart as I watched my husband being completely efficient and professional. I was impressed, having met him when he'd already been in the police force I never had a chance to see this part of his life. It's something he always kept away from me, afraid it would terrify me.
Well, I was terrified indeed, and the fact that he was actually going through with the entire process made me tremble.
"Can we drop the act?" I asked when there was no audience left. I crossed my legs together and folded my arms around my chest defensively, "or are you keen on putting your wife behind bars as well, so no one but you gets to have her?"  
Walter's nostrils flared, but he simply said "It's not an act. Charges will be brought against you. My guess is parole or community service," he explained as he pressed my fingers on the ink pad and then on the respective brackets on the paper one by one.
My lips trembled as the information sank in and I jumped up from the chair just as Walter finished with my left pinky. 
"I don't want it! Neither parole nor community service!" I burst out, "You're my husband!" my voice hitched, "Do something!"
I looked at the stern, unimpressed glare he was giving me and then frowned as he simply rolled his eyes at me. But of course, what made me think I was the first person to beg him not to charge them? 
"Sit. Down." He answered calmly while I stood infuriated and shook my head with protest.
"You have the very power to make these charges go away! You are doing this on purpose!" I pointed my ink-stained finger at him and started stomping my feet in the ground. 
"What if I'll march right out of this room? You going to throw me into a cell, Walter? Oh oh, excuse me, Office Marshall, SIR!" I slurred with disrespect.
"I don't know what you mean by "this", but the only thing I'm doing on purpose is my fucking job", Walter said in a menacingly low voice. "And yes, if you march out of this room without my permission as arresting officer, I am obligated to throw you in a cell." He leaned back in his chair and stared in my eyes with unflinching confidence.
"You gonna throw me in a cell!? Your wife!?" I cocked my eyebrow at him daringly. "You sure about that?" I stretched up and straightened my dress, pulling the hem down over my thigh as it kept riding up.
Walter tilted his head unimpressed, his brows rising as if he was waiting to see if I was really willing to risk challenging both his authority and power. 
"I'd think of the consequences if I were you!" I spat out and turned on my heels and snapped at the door, opening it wide open and stepping outside courageously. 
I walked out of the room and started running in the empty hallway, my heels clicking loud. It didn't even take me ten steps when Walter's body pressed to my back, pushing me against the wall. He turned me toward him, and by the time I understood what was going on, he put back the handcuffs on my hands in the front. He then dragged me to the interrogation room's anteroom where people were working. 
Walter didn't stop at the sight of them, he took me to the interrogation room where one wall was a one-way mirror. 
"WALTER!!!" I shrieked, panting with both shock and effort while he hauled me by my nape and forced me down on the chair, making the metal chair hit me hard on the ass. 
Adrenaline surged through me, my breasts rose up and down in the cleave of my tight dress.
"Are you fucking out of your fucking mind?!" I screamed at him and then peered at the mirror, realising everyone could see us. "If you don't take me home now I will never speak to you again!" 
Walter refused to be baited. Stepping out to the anteroom, he shut the door behind him so that I won't hear what he was saying to them. The officers gawked at him. "Get out", he said in a low voice, and they jumped and rushed out. 
Unbeknownst to me, Walter locked the anteroom's door with a flick of his wrist, making sure no one would disturb us, then he turned back and marched in. He circled the desk and sat on the edge, one of his thighs almost touching me. My glossy eyes rounded up as I stared at him. 
"That's enough," he said in a low voice as if there were still someone watching through the mirror. 
I looked at the mirror frightened, thinking of the audience who sat there before redirecting my gaze to Walter. My heart was racing so badly I could feel it in my ears. 
"Walter, I swear I'm not going to speak to you ever again" I fumed. He was giving me a condescending look and fuck, he was too attractive when he was angry and pumped of authority. I couldn't help but clench my thighs beneath the desk.
Walter ignored the pang I caused him by blackmailing him with our relationship as he watched the top of my thighs rubbing together. He hardened his face, stood up and walked back to the chair on the opposite side of the desk.
He said nothing but I got inspired by his arousingly hard look. Glancing at the mirror behind where the cops were watching, I decided that the only way to get to that thick cop brain of his is causing a scandal that will force him to take me home.
Taking a deep breath, I regained my forces and tried to appear as strong as I could. An opposing force to his absolute control of the situation.
"Do your colleagues know you stalk your wife?" I asked him, my voice dropping lower, my eyes cutting into his like daggers. Walter gave an unimpressed glare, slightly shaking his head at me.
"Tell them, Walter," I spread my legs wider only for him to see my striking red panties again as I angled my pelvis to give him a better glimpse. "Tell your friends at work what a sick, controlling perv you are, following me like the guys you arrest." 
Walter put his elbows and forearms down on the desk interlocking his fingers, and leaning forward, his burly shoulders appearing even more intimidating. 
"I could tell them", he said in a calm voice, "but they'd see that the way you're behaving totally justifies it."
He knew exactly what I needed. I needed to be put in my place, but not by the cop. 
By the husband.
He made a show of glancing down my soaked panties, and he licked his lips, not entirely an act. I WAS delectable for him.
"The way I'm behaving?…" 
Fury simmered in my veins, my breath short and slightly heavy as Walter not only kept his cool but also visibly exhibited his raw sexual desire. It did nothing but made me want to grind myself on the chair.  
I shifted involuntarily, spreading my thighs even wider in a primal invitation for him to conquer my defenceless offering. I was like a soft little rabbit caged in a room with a big hungry wolf, and his hunger was for more than just food.
"How exactly am I behaving, detective?" I drawled, challenging him, unwilling to back down.
Walter shifted his eyes from my face to my spread legs, then looked back in my eyes. At the same time, he leaned back against the back-rest of the chair, arms crossed on his chest, his lax pose, implying that he was completely comfortable with what he was about to say.
"Like an attention-seeking, cock hungry whore," he stated in an even tone.
His words hit me like a slap on the face, whatever decency I had left was completely lost to me right now. I pushed myself up from the chair, causing it to fall behind me with a sharp echo. 
"Excuse me?!" I called out angrily, holding my cuffed fists against my chest, knuckles white with tension. 
"YOU ARE THE ONE ACTING LIKE A PERV STALKING ME AND MY FRIENDS!!!" I shouted and looked at the mirror, trying to peer through the people sitting in the room. 
"Yeah, you hear me? This is the man who should be under arrest!" 
Not thinking twice I climbed onto the desk and marched toward him, peeling my dress up my thighs, exposing myself above his face. 
"Tell them, tell them how much of a big fucking pervert you are, sitting in the dark and stalking women. Did you jack off in the patrol car thinking about this all night long?"
When I finished shouting and just stood on the desk panting, he slowly stood up, turned around and walked to the door. My heart dropped thinking he was leaving me here, but Walter only went to look the door. The clicking sound reverberated in my core, causing a spike of fear and adrenaline in me. 
He walked back to the desk, and quick as lightning, grabbed my hip and thigh and yanked me down. His powerful arms braced the impact so it won't hurt me, but the air was knocked out of my lungs. 
I was lying on the desk, knees drawn up, while Walter leaned above me, one of his palms on the desk next to my waist, the other grabbing one of my knees, and slowly trailing up on my thigh with an ominous caress.
"Now that you've informed them about what kind of man I am, I don't need to hold back, now do I?" he drawled, the hand reaching the apex of my thigh and his thumb sweeping against the wet fabric of my panties. 
The world turned black for a moment as the initial shock took over. My body was spasming with fear and as I regained my control over my muscles again my eyes floated to the huge windowed mirror.
A terrible chill coursed through me as I saw him hovering above me in our reflection. All big and burly, my protective husband looked like nothing but a large predator while I was his helpless victim, and the thought that people were watching us and not doing anything to stop him was horrifying.
His thumb caressed over my covered mount, making my whimper and shaking my head with protest.
"Stop…" I called out, my voice puny and weak as my lungs gave in. I held my cuffed wrists to my chest and stared at him begging. "Stop, they're watching, Walter!"
"You kept on throwing at me that you are my wife, demanding special treatment here," he said coldly as he grabbed the chain of my handcuffs, yanked it over my head and slammed it down to the table, forcing me to stretch my arms and arch my back meanwhile his other hand pulled the line of my wet panties aside, and to my utter horror and forbidden excitement he slowly, very slowly pushed a long thick finger inside me. 
"How's that for special treatment?" he drawled in a dark, lustful voice.
"Walter!!" I whispered urgently, shuddering across the desk while my body unwillingly pressed further into his finger by natural, primal instincts. My face rested to the side, and I glared at the mirror again. "Walter, please, don't! They're watching us!"
I was at a complete loss of power, bound, defeated, knowing very well he could do whatever he wanted, and I wouldn't even have a fighting chance. My body was taken captive by the forbidden desire, and I did all I could to mentally fight him. I tried to close my thighs around his arm and desperately kicked my legs while shooting my glossy gaze back at him. 
Walter pulled his finger out, causing my pelvis to lift as my pussy mourned the loss. He reached over my torso and pushed his wet finger in my mouth, pressing down my tongue with it, forcing me to taste myself. 
"Let them watch," he growled. He pulled his digit out and licked my wetness and saliva off it. He let go of the chain, and I pulled my arms back to my chest as I watched him sit down on his chair, pull my panties down and stuff it in his pocket. 
"Ready?"
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"straight as a ruler"
Hey yall, here’s the long-awaited deamus fic that we’ve all been waiting for! If you want to follow my tumblr, it’s on my instagram profile now :). And if anyone from tumblr wants to follow my instagram, my handle’s @em.jade_dragon on there! Do like, share, save, reblog etc my posts, it really helps! More interaction (i.e interaction with my stories, commenting) would be very much appreciated :D. Anyways, without further ado, let’s get into things!
This is an eighth-year AU. TW/CW: food, alcohol, parties. stay safe everyone!
After the war, Professor McGonagall (now headmistress) invited all of the previous seventh-years back to Hogwarts to give them the chance to learn all of what they missed out on, as well as complete their NEWTs if they wished to do so. Most of the students did end up returning, even though a lot of them already had jobs (or offers that they had accepted).
The “eighth-years” were given their very own common room, and Dean was very glad for this.
It had been a relatively easy Saturday, and now, it was around 6pm, and the sun had just set. And because it was a Saturday, everyone was prepared for the event they all looked forward to - the weekly eight-year party. When Dean finally arrived on scene, albeit slightly late due to some solo quidditch practise (they didn't have any teams, but the eighth-years often had fun matches that were inter-house) to take his mind off something that had been bugging him for a while: Seamus. he couldn't quite put a finger on why he was having that nagging, butterfly-feeling in his stomach whenever he thought of his late best friend, but he kept on ignoring it hoping it'd go a way. He had the slightest suspicion what it might've been - after all, Dean was pretty sure he was pansexual, so it wasn't completely unexpected. But he'd intentionally tried to forget about it. He had, for a little, whilst he was outside, but now, as he entered the common room, he grew queasy again knowing his best friend would be looking for him.
As soon as he stepped foot inside, he noticed that a lot of people were already half-wasted. He must've been later than he thought.
"Dean-y, there you are!" He turned to see Ginny Weasley bounding towards him cheerfully, her eyes a little glassy. Other than that, she appeared to be pretty sober. "Gin, hey," Dean replied, giving her a light hug. They'd dated for a short while previously, but had broken it off after they both realised they were better of as friends. He was glad for that - they'd never have worked out, not when Ginny was practically in love with another classmate of theirs (spoiler alert - it wasn't Harry). He knew she, Neville and Luna had snuck into the party again. Not that anybody minded.
Ginny laughed loudly, and ran a hand through her cropped shoulder-length hair. She'd reportedly gotten Neville to cut it for her. "Needed a change", Dean remembered her telling him a month back. It suited her. "Dean, helloOo?" Ginny waved her hand in his face, and Dean blinked. "Come on, let's go say hi to everyone else!" she said, and promptly dragged him to the end corner of the room. There, on the couch, sat the golden trio, squished in with the bronze trio group. Neville and Luna were there too - Neville and Blaise were engaged in a flirty conversation on the floor, and Luna smiling fondly at them. She turned when Dean and Ginny approached.
"Oh, hello, Dean. How was quidditch practise?" she asked sweetly. He told her it was fine and she nodded. "Got a case of wrack spurts around you. Seamus, too."
Dean wondered what it meant. He was about to ask but before he could Ginny had strolled up to her girlfriend and had begun kissing Luna rather passionately. Sighing, he sat down near Blaise.
Hermione and Ron were cackling loudly with Pansy, who was telling a story involving Draco and the giant squid. Draco was silently sulking, leaning against Harry who was playing mindlessly with his partner's hair. "Dean, mate, you made it!" Harry said, nodding at him.
He smiled slightly. "Yeah. What'd I miss?" "Well, Dray here's been traumatised by Pansy and Ron and 'Mione-" "-They were not!-" Pansy cut in, now listening to the conversation as Hermione and Ron started discussing something about Percy Weasley and his new relationship with Oliver Wood.
Dean and Harry laughed. Malfoy scowled, but their eyes were light. "-Anyways, Ron and 'Mione and I had a fun time teasing Blaise and Nev, and at some point we were all dancing to ABBA music but we settled down again." Harry continued.
Ron nodded. He made a terrible impression of Parvati and Lavender, who had been singing along, before he stopped and seemed to remember something. "Oh yeah, and Seamus came looking for you. Not sure where he's gone now, but Luna said something about some girl rejecting him and now he's probably sulking-" Luna, by this point, had tuned into the conversation, with Ginny now sitting in her lap and gazing lovingly at her. "I never said she was a she, Ron. But yes, he had quite a lot of fuzz around his head." "You should go check on him, mate, he's your bestie!" Ginny suddenly exclaimed, her voice slurring. Dean nodded and got up, exiting the scene.
***
Despite having left his circle of friends rather swiftly, Dean had been interrupted several times for small chats and drinks with people in the room before he could even start searching for Seamus. He'd heard the latest gossip from Padma Patil and Wayne Hopkins, been given a bottle of fire whisky from Theo Nott, and had discussed the uses of owl feathers with owl enthusiast Michael Corner. At this point he'd gotten rather tired and was a tad bit intoxicated.
He ended exiting the common room and heading down into a more quiet hallway to try and sober up, when he'd heard quiet sniffling in the corner. Curious, Dean cautiously approached the noise to find Seamus sitting hunched against the wall, a bottle cradled in his palms. When Dean approached him, Seamus looked up and wiped the tears from his eyes rather swiftly.
"Guess you finally decided to turn up whilst your best mate got his heart broken, huh?" he said bitterly, his Irish accent coming out thicker than it usually did. Dean's heart melted a little, and he felt incredibly guilty. "Seamus, I'm so sorry I was clearing my head out a bit at the quidditch pitch and lost track of time, I feel awful I-" Seamus put a hand up, telling him to stop. He stood up and put the bottle on the floor. Dean couldn't help but notice how soft Seamus' hair looked tonight, and how toned his muscles were through the thin school shirt. Seamus, unfortunately, noticed Dean's staring. "What're you staring at for?" "I- nothing", Dean said quickly, awkwardly scratching his neck, looking away at the wall for a second. He'd forgotten how incredibly fit the Irish boy was, even though he was both taller and more muscular than Seamus. They stood in silence a bit, before Seamus spoke up. "I asked someone out today. Thought I'd give m'self a shot, y'know? But they said no. It wasn't a girl who- who rejected me. It-" he breathed out shakily, and Dean realised how incredibly shattered he was, and put a hand on Seamus' arm without thinking about it too much. "-It was a guy. Stephen something from Ravenclaw."
Dean didn't know what to say. He had wondered if his best friend had been 'bent', but never really thought about it too deeply. Inwardly he felt his guts churn and he suddenly felt strangely content, but he wasn't sure why "I- I'm so sorry mate, that's awful," he began, and trying to lighten the atmosphere, continued, "Maybe Steph wasn't into white guys?" His best mate laughed, and it was a broken, hollow sound. "Thanks Dean-o, really makes meh feel better. Perhaps he's into you, eh?" "I- well I'm not into him-" he began, but Seamus cut him off. "Bloody no shit, you're straight as a ruler!"
"But I'm not. Straight as a ruler, you say. I'm- I think I'm pan, Shay." "I- what?" Somehow, without Dean realising, Seamus had brought his hands onto his chest. And now all he could feel was his calloused palms digging slightly onto his chest, over his erratically beating heart. "I thought I was the gay bloke out of the two of us! Like, I dunno, at least the only fruity one."
"I guess you thought wrong." Dean said awkwardly.
"I guess I did." They stood there for another minute, staring at each other.
And suddenly Dean remembered that he was still holding onto Seamus rather tightly, so he made to let go, when he felt hands sliding down to his waist and gripping him. Astonished, he glanced up from staring at the floor and looked into his best mate's deep brown eyes. He reached his other hand out unconsciously, cupping his chin. "Oh, for fuck's sake!" Shay said, the lilt in his tongue sounding for some reason really hot.
Next thing Dean knew, Seamus had crashed his lips onto him, pushing him into the opposite wall of the narrow corridor.
He didn't respond at first. Seamus stopped for a second, pulling back. "Kiss me back, you dolt, or I swear to merlin I'll be punching that fucking sexy face of yours-" Next thing Seamus knew, Dean was snogging him back.
~fin
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broadstbroskis · 4 years
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drunk dial | auston matthews
a very long time ago, an anon sent me an ask with a prompt that was like “so we’re just ignoring the fact that you drunk dialed me to tell me you love me?” with auston and @nolypats and i have been chatting recently and, well this is finally completed
-----
It’s a typical Saturday night and the boys don’t have another game until Wednesday, somehow, someway, so you arrive at Scotiabank Arena dressed for the bar after and notice immediately that you aren’t the only one who’d made the choice to do so. 
“Ohhh.” Steph runs her fingers along the sleeve of your leather jacket as soon as you slip into the seat beside her. “I love this! New?”
You nod at her, but are already busy gushing over her sweater to answer anything else about the jacket, which you’d openly lusted over for months before your best friend had surprised you with it for your birthday a few weeks ago, despite your insistence to Auston that it was too much. 
Steph seems to have been waiting for you to arrive because as soon as you do, she flags down Alannah, who grins as soon as she sees you. “Wine o’ clock!” She cheers and you grin, standing and following the two of them to the closest spot in the club level for you each to get a glass.
It sets the tone for the evening, with the three of you giggly and tipsy by the time the game ends and you meet up with everyone in the lounge downstairs.  
“Oh boy.” Zach’s eyes widen almost comically, when he’s the first one to approach the three of you, coming out of the locker room fresh off his shower. Alannah straight up squeals when she sees her husband, throwing her arms around him like she hasn’t seen him in days or weeks, instead of like five hours, and you give the reaction the giggles it deserves, hearing Steph join in right behind you. “Oh boy.” Zach repeats, looking between the three of you.
“What’s going on?” Mitch asks, appearing at his side, with Auston and Will right behind him.
“It’s wine o’ clock, bitch!” Steph cheers, erupting into a fit of giggles, and that’s the last thing you remember.
-----
Considering how much your head is pounding the next morning, you’re just happy to wake up in a bed, even if you know right away that it isn’t your own. It takes you a few minutes to open your eyes, but you breathe a sigh of relief when you do, taking in the familiar sights of one of Steph and Mitch’s guest rooms.
Poor Mitch. You bite back a laugh, taking your time to sit up at the edge of the bed, and a couple deep breaths as it makes your headache even worse. You might not remember last night, but you know from prior experience that having to wrangle a drunk you and Steph back here was no easy task for him. You owe him big time. 
The two of them are both, unsurprisingly, already awake when you make your way downstairs, nursing large and larger cups of coffee. “Any more of that?” You ask hopefully, and Mitch snorts, while Steph points pathetically toward the counter.
There is, blessedly, a good portion of the pot still left, and still warm, and you pour it in a mug, hugging it toward your chest like the lifeline it’s about to be. “Sorry, Mitch.”
“You will be when you see the pictures.” Mitch says cheerfully, way too cheerfully for this early in the morning, especially considering how hungover you are.
You groan immediately, noticing Steph’s done the same only after she bangs her head against the counter and follows it with a soft, “Ow.”
“Where’s my phone?” You whine reluctantly. You might as well get the roast over with.
Your phone is hiding in the blankets of the bed you’d slept in, almost dead, where you’d apparently just thrown it at some point. Steph’s already back in the kitchen when you make your way down, her face paling even as she occasionally laughs at whatever she’s scrolling through.
Your own phone has more than a few messages with pictures from last night, as well as a few more chats that are blowing up with texts this morning, commenting from last night, but there’s one message that catches your eye. 
It’s from Auston, separate from any of the group chats, and it catches your eye because it’s just...not like a usual text he’d send you? you good? is the only thing he’s sent, no emojis, nothing, and it’s strange enough that you ignore the other incoming texts to explore through your phone a little to see what you could have done to get a text like that.
Instagram and Snapchat both yield nothing- embarrassing videos, sure, but nothing overly terrible- and the photos making their way through the texts are the same, but your call log is another story.
“Shit.” You groan, swiping back into your messages with your best friend. 
“What?” Steph asks.
“I called Auston, like, ten times last night.” You tell them, more focused on texting him. i’m sorryyyyy. didn’t mean to keep you up
it’s good. He sends back a few minutes later, and you frown, because as cool and chill as he might pretend to be, he’s not, and this is strange. 
couch movie day? You ask him. The coffee has done the trick; you at least feel like you could move, and there’s no better way to spend a hungover Sunday than with your best friend, lounging on his supremely comfortable couch. i’ll even agree to football if that’s what you so desire.
yeah alright, that sounds good. It’s punctuated with the fingers forming the ok sign emoji,though, and that, at least, is close enough to normal that you smile. You must have kept him up later than you even realized with your calls, for him to be so short with you.
“Alright lovelies.” You suck down the last bit of coffee and address your hosts. “Thanks for the bed last night. I owe you big time, Mitch.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll come collecting!” He teases.
“Headed to Auston’s though.” You press a kiss to Steph’s head and then Mitch’s as well. “Comfy sweats and a couch calling my name.”
——-
When you let yourself into your best friend’s place, it comes as almost no surprise to find a giant ginger sitting at the counter. “Freddie!” You beam, throwing your arms around him and regretting it pretty quickly, once your head starts to pound again. He starts to squeeze you, returning the hug, but you shake your head quickly. “Nope, don’t do that.”
“Alright, fair enough.” He laughs. “So rough night last night, huh?”
You level him with a look but he barely even blinks, and you sigh. “Where’s Auston?”
“Right here.” Your best friend is still shirtless as he walks out of his bedroom, yanking some ridiculous graphic tee over his head as he gets closer, which gives you the second you need to look away and take a breath after even just that tiny minute of exposure. Auston’s abs are honestly unfair and they are, objectively, not even his best feature. “Hey.” He gives you a nod, fixing the glasses he tries to pretend he’s too cool to actually need, refusing to wear them outside the house unless absolutely necessary, and you grin back; as annoyed as he may have seemed over text, he’s not acting that way at all now. 
“Is there coffee made?” You ask hopefully. Auston rolls his eyes at you, but nods over at his absurdly fancy machine, the one that had taken you about three months to figure out how to use. “Sweet, you’re amazing. I’m stealing that and then going to steal some sweats, okay?” You don’t even wait for him to respond, knowing it’ll be fine. Precedent is on your side here. Instead, you reach for a mug and address Freddie instead. “Fred, you joining?”
“Nah.” Freddie says, surprising you a bit. You’ve never known him to turn down a lazy Sunday. “You two have fun.” He says, giving you a knowing glance, which means he definitely caught you looking at Auston earlier, and it’s only the fact that Auston is standing right there that stops you from flipping Fred off on his way out the door.
It figures Freddie’s freaky goalie powers would be working now. Catches onto your more-than-best-friends-feelings for Auston, sure, but too oblivious to notice the hot neighbor in his building he’s crushing on is practically in love with him. Good one, Fred.
It’s barely a minute after Freddie clears out that you slip past Auston to go change, bringing your coffee mug along with you and reaching for your favorite pair of sweatpants the minute you enter his room. They’re old and perfectly worn, from his first year in the league, too small for Auston now, but just large enough for you to feel cozy in. One of his comfier sweatshirts completes your outfit for the day. Auston might be able to survive the day in a t-shirt, always radiating heat even as he complains about the Toronto cold, but fuck that, you were ready to be comfortable and nap through an afternoon of American football. 
Auston is already settled on the couch and if you weren’t so hungover, you’d throw yourself on him, just to be obnoxious, but as it is, you settle slowly onto the cushions beside him, and then lower your head to rest in his lap, frowning to yourself when you feel him tense. 
But it happens so quick; one minute his quads are tight underneath you and the next he’s relaxed again, you find yourself wondering if you imagined the entire thing. Maybe he wasn’t even annoyed with you this morning either; maybe you were just projecting your annoyance at the entire world onto him.
His hand moves to your hair, just like it always would, and you decide your hangover must have you paranoid. “How’s your fantasy team going to do today?” You mumble, already ready to fall back asleep.
Auston hums. “Good, I think. I play Willy this week and he’s a fucking disaster.” You giggle into his lap; his hand stills for a second, but then goes right back to playing with your hair. “Hey, uh, you-” Auston starts, but whatever he says next goes unheard by you, as you give into the sleep that’s been ready to overtake you since you settled onto his lap only moments ago.
-----
It’s hours later when you come to again and you only know this because whatever football game Auston has on is well into the second half. 
It takes you a few minutes to wake up again, slowly coming out of your sleepy state, before you realize that Auston’s talking to someone- quietly, but talking pretty freely- and it’s actually this that’s what has woken you up.
“Yeah it’s-” Auston cuts off frustratedly. He sounds kind of like he wants to be pacing but your head is still in his lap and his hand has moved from your hair to rest on your shoulder, brushing gentle strokes over the curve of it. “I just haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
Ohhh, juicy. You don’t want to listen in on Auston’s conversation; you know he’ll bring it up to you when he’s ready, but well, it’s hard not to. You can’t get up without alerting him that you’re awake already. You shut your eyes again tightly, focus on your breathing, and try to fall back asleep, but he’s talking again. “You don’t just get the fuck over that, Fred.” He hisses and ohhh, that sounds angry. You wonder what could have possibly happened to make him sound like that; the two of them never fight. “I would have gotten over her already if I could.”
And that’s the end of that for you. You’re already feeling sick enough today before hearing Auston and Fred talk about one of Auston’s girls. You squeeze your eyes closed tightly and re-double your efforts on trying to fall back asleep, concentrating on blocking out the sound of his voice. 
It works a lot better when you focus on how his hand feels on your shoulder, but it still feels like taking the L.
-----
The second time you wake that afternoon is much smoother. Your headache is basically gone, but the tradeoff is Auston’s thumb digging into your upper trap, which you ease off. “Sorry.” He winces, soothing that spot immediately and you don’t have to look up at the TV to know the Raiders have just done something terrible for his well being. 
“I’m hungry.” You whine at him and he laughs.
“Two minutes.” He responds, checking the time, which of course, turns into more like five, because the difference between “football time” and “real time” is fucking riduclous, but when the half does end, you sit up, the two of you swiping between food delivery apps to decide on dinner for the evening.
When you look up from your phone, Auston’s looking at you with a soft smile, that one you can’t let yourself look at for too long. “I’m gonna shower real quick, if you don’t mind?”
You’re already standing before he answers, but he nods, smile fading from his face a little. “Yeah, go for it.”
“Thanks.” You call, already moving towards the master bath, ready to steal a second pair of sweats for the day.
The shower is the distraction that you need, the step away from that smile that’s too close to everything that you want. The large walk-in a scalding reminder of every other girl who may have been in this position, of the girl who Auston wants to keep around in this position, the one girl who’s managed to do the thing hundreds of girls in Toronto thought was impossible. Auston’s soap smells bitter today, as you lather yourself in it, wondering how you became one of those girls.
You must have taken longer than you thought in the shower because the food’s arrived when you come back out. Auston’s unpacking the takeout bags onto the coffee table, with utensils ready. “Ohh, smells good.” You tug the long sleeves of his shirt over your hands, settling into the couch next to him again and watching him spread your takeout favorites out in front of the two of you. “Thank you.
Auston hums in response, passing you over your favorite dish ordered, the one that you love and he hates, and you only kind of watch him make a plate for himself, a mish-mash of options from the rest of the meals that you’d ordered, more focused on the plate of food in front of you, which is maybe why it’s a total surprise when he says, “We’re really just going to ignore you drunk-dialling me to tell me you love me?”
You choke. “What?”
Auston pales. “Uhh.” He freezes; his fork’s halfway to his mouth, but you can’t even chirp him for how lame he looks right now and it’s not even just because you apparently did something a hundred times more stupid. 
No, it’s because your mind is racing at the fact that you did do something a hundred times more stupid last night and you can’t even put together a coherent thought about that, let alone anything else. No fucking wonder he’s been strange all day.
“Uh.” Auston repeats. “You know what? Don’t worry about it.”
“Absolutely not!” You protest, words finally coming back to you. “What the fuck? God, I’m so sorry!” 
And somehow, that makes this worse? Auston’s shoulder’s tense, he looks extremely interested in his food suddenly. “I mean, it’s cool.” He shrugs, acting again too chill for the situation.
It’s a long moment before you respond, trying to gather your thoughts before you say something you don’t mean. “Is it though? Because you’ve been weird all day and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but, like, I can’t take it back now. So the best I can do is leave and like, let me know if you want to talk about it ever and promise not to make things super weird everytime I see you if you don’t want to talk about it.” You don’t realize you’ve stood up at some point in this chat, but Auston still hasn’t responded, and well, maybe it’s for the best that you’ve stood. 
You turn to leave, only for him to tug you back gently toward him, but he either pulls harder than he thinks or you’re just not expecting the tug, and you land in his lap instead of the couch. It’s hardly a graceful fall, with Auston having to loop his free hand behind your back to catch you, your nose bumping against his shoulder on the way down, and your legs folding under you unnaturally until you squirm around to fix them.
Auston’s barely breathing when you finally look up at him, a little annoyed that he’s still acting weird after what you said. “Could you-” He trails off. “Just sit still for a second please?” You give him a look, but settle down, stopping your movements, and he takes a deep breath, relaxing, finally. “I’m sorry if I’ve been weird all day, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you telling me you loved me.”
You huff at him, annoyed and ready to climb off his lap to storm out, but he tightens his grip on you, like he knows what you’re thinking. “You don’t have to rub it in.”
“I swear, I’m not!” His thumb slides up to brush a spot of skin between the waistband of the sweatpants and the oversized shirt. “I haven’t been about to stop thinking about that, and then you came in here, looking like you always do, in my clothes all day, and I’ve been trying so fucking hard not to ruin shit between us for months now,” Your eyes widen and your jaw drops as everything starts coming together. “Until last night, when you called me and left me that message and I thought maybe we were on the same page…”
“Except I didn’t remember doing it.” It pains you to even say it; you hate that he’s been feeling uncertain throughout the entire day. Uncertain and unsure and just...hanging. “Auston-” You reach your hand out to brush against his cheek.
“You didn’t even mention it.” He says. “Not in your texts, not once you got here. I thought...I thought you just wanted to carry on with things as normal, that you regretted saying it, or wanted to take it back completely?” He shakes his head, like he’s clearing his thoughts, but you don’t let him move away, putting your hand right back on his cheek.
“I mean, I wish I remembered saying it.” You tell him softly. “But I don’t think I’ll ever regret loving you.” 
“Good.” Auston says firmly, and you barely have time to grin in response to that before he’s tugging you closer in his lap and kissing you soundly. 
386 notes · View notes
stark-strange-love2 · 3 years
Text
A Day at the Fair
My submission for the ironstrange fanfic challenge!
Prompt: 
Tony drags Stephen out on a date to the fair, despite Stephen insisting he doesn’t want to go. Tony spends the whole day trying to show Stephen how much fun it is until finally, Stephen breaks down and confesses the real reason he didn’t want to come today. 
Tags:
Omega Stephen Strange, Alpha Tony Stark, high school au
Tony grinned, practically vibrating with excitement as he rolled out of bed. Every year he and Stephen went to the fair, the closest thing their tiny town had to offer for fun. He grabbed his phone from his nightstand.
T: Heeeeeey Steph~
S: Tony? What is it?
T: Well I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to the fair this fine day, as per our usual tradition
Stephen took a few minutes to reply. Tony set down his phone, brushed his teeth, dressed, and sat down for breakfast. Stephen still hadn’t replied. Then, as he was pouring cereal, his phone dinged.
S: Idk. I’m not feeling up to it rn
T: Okay… do you wanna come over and hang out then? My parents are out of town… I could even sneak a bottle of wine for us
S: Eh… let’s just go to the fair.
Tony smiled.
T: Great! I’ll pick you up in an hour?
S: Sure
The fair was loud and hot and crowded. It reminded Tony of every fantastic summer with Stephen he could think of. Tony squeezed Stephen’s hand, but Stephen didn’t squeeze back.
“Hey, Steph, are you okay? You seem a little off-color.”
Stephen bit his lip.
“Just tired I guess. I have a bit of a headache.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Tony leaned up and kissed Stephen’s cheek, then down to his unmarked scent gland. “Maybe we can sit down near the back? Have some lunch? I have Asperin too if you need it. We can even go back home if you’d like. Anything for you,” Tony said.
Stephen smiled softly.
“Lunch sounds good.”
He finally squeezed Tony’s hand back.
“Ugh, don’t they have anything remotely healthy?” Stephen bitched, scrunching up his face at the third deep-fried Oreo stand they passed.
“Oh? Are you doing another vegan kick or something?”
Stephen shook his head, cheeks pink.
“Uh- no. No, just trying to eat a little healthier, that’s all.”
“Can you take a break for today?” Tony asked. God knew he wasn’t planning on eating well today.
“Well… I mean…” Stephen worried his lip between his teeth. “I’d just feel better if I ate healthily, that’s it.” He didn’t meet Tony’s eyes.
They finally found something reasonably healthy- chicken tenders and lemonade- and sat down at a table under a large tree. Somewhere in the background, a band was playing. Stephen picked at his food while Tony happily munched away.
“After this do you want to go on a ride?” tony asked.
Stephen shook his head.
“No rides.”
“Why? Are you still not feeling well?”
Stephen didn’t meet Tony’s eyes, electing instead to look off into the never-ending distance, hazy with the feeling of the fair, a haziness that stayed in Stephen’s mind and mulled like a roiling, humid cloud of every problem that had ever graced him. The heat clung to his skin. His stomach turned and he looked down, his arms folded over his abdomen. Tony could smell the scent of unhappy omega from across the table.
“Yeah. Not feeling great,” he lied.
Tony’s eyes were so warm and comforting that Stephen’s stomach couldn’t help but crawling higher into his throat and nestling there like some sort of weak and defenseless baby bird. Stephen’s cheeks were hot with shame.
“Are you sure that’s everything? Please tell me if something’s bothering you, Stephen. I love you. I want to help.”
Stephen’s stomach churned and he ran to the nearest trashcan and threw up. Tony leaped to his feet and rushed over but Stephen waved him away.
“Oh God- oh God Stephen!” Tony cried.
“I’m- I’m fine,” Stephen coughed. He wiped his mouth and downed his lemonade, popping a few breath mints into his mouth. He let out a low groan and took a deep breath.
“Jesus Stephen, let’s go home. You’re sick. You need to rest.” “No. You brought me here on a date. We’re staying.” The resolution in Stephen’s voice felt strong and clear and hard and unwavering, the same way a freshly poured asphalt highway stretches on and on and on until it dissolves into a dazzling mirage. Endless and resolute in a way that made Tony feel tiny in comparison.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Stephen ate his last chicken tender and tossed the tray.
“Maybe we can try at one of those fair games,” Stephen offered.
“Aren’t they all rigged?”
“Well that makes winning more impressive,” Stephen said with a grin.
Stephen took Tony’s hand and they walked through the fair before stopping at a booth: balloons and darts. Stephen bent over, looking at the booth. Then there was a loud whistle and a squeak from Stephen that had Tony’s alpha growling in his chest. Tony turned and snapped at the fuck boy alpha that currently had his hand on his omega’s ass. Stephen turned and slapped the guy’s hand away, face red and furious. His blue-green eyes burned like two twin stars hovering above the ocean horizon.
“Hey sweet-cheeks, what’s a pretty little omega like you doing with a boring alpha like him?” the guy said with a thousand-watt smile.
“Not interested.”
“Aw, come on baby, don’t be like that.”
“He said he’s not interested,” Tony growled.
The guy rolled his eyes.
“Fine, tightass.”
He stalked away and Stephen’s resolve broke. His entire body drooped and he sank into his seat, the smell of pure displeasure and unhappiness radiating from him like a morning fog over a valley. Tony sighed and pulled Stephen to his chest, holding him tight.
“Fuck Stephen- I’m so sorry.”
“Not your fault,” Stephen mumbled.
But there was a flat sort of grey hanging in his eyes and Tony knew it wasn’t okay, but he also knew there was nothing he could ever do. Tony held him close, whispering gentle things into Stephen’s ears.
“Hey, I saw what happened.” Tony looked up to see the carnival stand girl looking apologetic at the two of them. “I don’t know if this would make you feel better, but would you like to play a few rounds for free? It’s on the house.”
Tony smiled and looked to Stephen.
“Does that sound fun?”
Stephen shrugged, laying his chin on the counter.
“You play. I’ll watch.”
Tony nodded, a plan in mind. He missed the first shot but nailed the next four. Then he aimed for the bright yellow balloon titled ‘10,000 points.’ It was tiny, underinflated, and unlikely to pop from elasticity tension. Tony ran a few trajectory equations through his head, nibbling at his lip. He had two darts left. Gravity was his best bet, if he could arc the dart so it landed into the balloon, he might stand a chance. All the other balloons were one point, and by now, he could maybe get Stephen one of those cute little teddy bears, but he wanted to get Stephen something bigger. Like that giant fluffy round hamster plushy the size of Tony’s body.
The first dart missed, bouncing off the board and falling to the ground. Tony took a deep breath and tossed the last dart in a high arc, watching as it fell and fell and fell and gained velocity until it popped the yellow balloon with a loud snap.
Stephen grinned and clapped and Tony did a little dance. The girl grinned.
“Congratulations! What prize would you like?”
Tony grinned and pointed up at the massive hamster. The girl pulled down the hamster and passed it to Tony who promptly passed it to Stephen.
“Hey, I know today hasn’t been great, but I’m really glad I got to spend time with you today. You never fail to make me happy, even when the whole world feels bad, and I want you to know I want to be there for you, on all the good days and bad.”
Stephen looked at the hamster, then back at Tony. He sniffled and broke down in tears.
“Oh God- Stephen? Was it something I said? Are you okay? Oh God, I’m so sorry!” Tony stammered.
Stephen whimpered, tears pouring down his face. Then he turned and ran, the hamster in his arms as he wove through the crowd and through carnival stands. Tony stared after him, heart sinking. He stood there for a second before taking off after Stephen.
It took him twenty minutes to find Stephen in one of the animal shows, surrounded by cages of fluffy baby bunnies. He was crying silently into the hamster, squeezed tight in his arms. Tony knelt beside him.
“Stephen?” His voice was soft. Something was very wrong. “Please… please just tell me what’s wrong. I want to help you.”
Stephen looked away. His chest was so full of lead he couldn’t bring himself to speak. He felt heavy and dense, like an ancient tree rooted to the ground, bark worn by the elements but still there. Unmoving. Unable to move.
“Please.”
Stephen let out a choked whimper.
“I don’t know if I’m ready to tell you.” His voice was cracking and frail. So weak. But it was the truth.
“That’s okay. I just want to make sure you’re safe… are you safe?” Tony asked, taking Stephen’s hands in his.
Stephen nodded.
“It’s just… I don’t know.” Stephen hung his head.
“It’s okay not to know,” Tony whispered. “Do you want to go home now?”
Stephen shook his head.
“I want to ride the Ferris Wheel. Like we do every year.”
Tony smiled softly and hugged Stephen, staying there for a second, the way a curling vine of ivy finds comfort in cracked bark, grey with exhaustion. They stayed there for a bit, nestled amongst the animal cages and beneath the flair of the crowded festival like the world was fog and they were the grass, rooted in place.
Stephen moved first, reaching up and pulling himself to his feet and then reaching for Tony to help him up.
“You know, you’re the best alpha I could have ever wished for,” Stephen said with a small, bittersweet smile.
“Well… I couldn’t have asked for anyone better to fall in love with,” Tony responded.
“Do you promise you’ll always be with me? Through everything?” Stephen asked, squeezing Tony’s hand.
“Of course. I love you, Stephen. And nothing can ever make me stop.”
Tony leaned up and kissed Stephen softly, sweetly. Stephen let his eyes drift closed and he savored every single saccharine second.
They found the Ferris Wheel easily. It was the center of the fair, after all. And one long line later they were sitting in a car going up and up and up. Stephen fidgeted quietly. It was funny how the second all you needed was time it seemed to twist and turn and go faster and faster so blindingly fast you can barely even remembered what you prepared to say. When the carriage got halfway up its arc Stephen bit his lip, letting out a little, tightly-wound sigh.
“Tony… I need to tell you what’s wrong. I’ve been avoiding it all day, but… I just wanted one last good day with you before it all changed.” Stephen looked over the edge of the carriage and let out a dry chuckle. “Although I suppose I ruined my chance at that, too.”
“What- what are you talking about?” Tony’s voice was on edge.
“I-I’m pregnant.”
Stephen stared at Tony full-on. He kept searching for something other than shock but it was like combing a beach for something that just wasn’t there. Stephen’s hands started to shake.
“T-Tony? Please say something.”
Stephen’s voice sounded so small. He felt so small.
“Am I- Am I the dad?” Tony finally asked.
Anger flared deep in Stephen’s gut and for a moment he wanted to slap Tony off of the stupid Ferris Wheel.
“Of course you’re the father!” Stephen snapped. “You fucking idiot- you really think I’m screwing a dozen alphas behind your back?”
His scent soured and he turned away, glaring. Tony stayed quiet.
“Whatever. You probably want to break up with me now anyways. Just do it. I don’t want to have you pretend to care about this. I’ll just… forget about my full-ride to Columbia. I doubt my parents will even let me go. They want me to stay on the farm and become a good obedient little housespouse omega.” Stephen let out an involuntary whimper. Tears were pouring down his cheeks and he hugged himself. “I thought I was going to be happy… I thought I was going to have a future, but I- I don’t know anymore!”
The whole world felt like it was collapsing, folding in an compressing into one invincible singularity stuck in Stephen’s windpipe. Everything was spinning and hot and his head hurt so so much… Stephen closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands, sobbing.
Then, Tony gently wrapped his arms around Stephen, pulling the crying omega to his chest.
“Shh… it’s okay. I’m sorry, I just… I’m a father…” A small smile appeared on Tony’s face. “I couldn’t believe it. But Stephen, whatever you choose to do, this is your choice, and I will back you up 1,000%. I love you, and I meant it when I said I would stay with you no matter what. I know how much medical school means to you, and I swear that I can help you take care of our child so you can study if you choose to keep it. You don’t need to give up your dream, your dream can always stay. If you choose not to keep it, then I’ll be there for you too. No matter what you choose, we’re in this together.”
Stephen let his hands fall away from his face and his head plop on Tony’s shoulder. He was still crying and shaking, but this time from happiness. Tony wasn’t leaving him. He wasn’t going to be stuck alone on a farm his whole life. He would be okay. They would be okay.
He turned and tackled Tony in a hug, enough to rattle their cart. Tony laughed and held them as they reached the top of the Ferris Wheel, watching as the sun set over the fair and the town and everything surrounding it and turned it all to gold.
134 notes · View notes
stxphxn-strange · 3 years
Text
(no) rest for the innocent
summary: Tony wasn’t even on trial, but the jury found him guilty and he couldn’t disagree.
a/n: idk last night i was thinking about tony dealing w survivor’s guilt after endgame (and IW) so i threw this together, tw for mention of death and implied thoughts of suicide
“Good evening, Doctor.” FRIDAY’s warm, pleasant voice always reminded Stephen of home and cinnamon scented candles. “How was your trip?” 
“Too long for a meeting that could’ve been handled over email. Or through carrier pigeon, as Tony would say,” Stephen replied as his cloak sailed off down the hall. 
He washed his hands carefully, drying them on an Iron Man dish towel that Peter had given them as a joke wedding gift before putting the kettle on. 
As the water was boiling, he noticed a covered plate on the kitchen counter. There was an obnoxiously orange piece of paper in front of it, which made Stephen smile. Tony always left him little notes on purposefully electrifying paper, that way they were easy to find. 
The sorcerer’s smile only widened as he read the note. 
Steph— 
I wasn’t sure when you’d be back, but I decided to make you dinner anyway. But not because I’m missing you and wanted to surprise you, I just accidentally cooked too much. You know how that happens sometimes and you just end up with an ungodly amount of chicken parm? Life’s funny like that. 
Anyway, I’m in the lab. I had some good ideas earlier and I wanted to start them while I still felt productive. Welcome home sweetheart, and if you go to bed before I do (because you probably will, you responsible asshole you), sweet dreams and goodnight. 
Love, Tones
PS— Orange you glad you met me? … don’t answer that, I just couldn’t help it and had to write that down. 
Stephen rolled his eyes fondly. “Fri, will you tell Tony that even though he’s not funny, I’m very glad I met him?” 
FRIDAY was quiet for a few moments before responding. “Boss says, quote, ‘fuck you Gandalf, I’m hilarious,’ unquote.” 
Stephen smiled, heating up his meal before sitting down to eat. He flipped through a magazine while he ate, FRIDAY turning on some soft jazz music as background noise until Stephen cleaned up and left the kitchen. After a refreshing shower, the sorcerer found himself in his most comfortable pjs and slippers as he walked through the house. Stephen wasn’t sure if he was going to bed yet, but he wanted to see Tony (and maybe he wanted a kiss or two or even three). 
The music in the lab automatically lowered when Stephen shut the door behind him, and Tony looked up with an expression that could only be described as tired. 
Actually, he looked exhausted. Weary. Barely holding himself together. Stephen wasn’t a thesaurus, but very concerned about his husband. 
Tony was trying to smile, but he seemed too exhausted to do that and just gave up, not saying anything as Stephen sat beside him. 
“Hi.” Stephen leaned over and softly kissed his husband’s temple. “Thanks for cooking for me, you didn’t have to.” 
Tony shrugged. “I had a lot of energy earlier, and I accidentally cooked way too much. Maybe it was intentional, you know I’d take any excuse to go out of my way for you.” 
His words said one thing, but his tone betrayed him. His voice was brittle, hard, and almost staticky. Stephen thought he sounded like a rusted hinge that was trying not to cry out for repairs… or maybe that analogy only made sense given where they were. 
Stephen kissed him again as Tony sat back at his desk, closing his well-used sketchbook. “You alright?” 
“Yeah. Tired I guess.” Tony sounded as unconvinced as Stephen felt. 
“Come to bed with me,” Stephen offered. “I’ll bore you to sleep by telling you about the meeting.” 
Tony laughed hollowly. “That bad?” 
“I don’t know how to describe it, but it was a waste of time. Even Wong was bored, and he watches the Antiques Roadshow remake for fun,” Stephen replied. He yawned and leaned against Tony’s side. 
“I see what you’re doing,” Tony murmured, trying to be lighthearted. He was just feeling some kind of way right now, he felt serious and was so endeared by his husband that it hurt. 
“What am I doing?” Stephen asked, resting his head on Tony’s shoulder. 
“Being cute and sweet so I’ll go to bed and let you be the big spoon,” Tony accused. “And maybe I just really fucking need a hug, but… it’s working.” 
Stephen shifted and pulled Tony into his arms, holding the mechanic close as he went lax. 
“My Boss Is Singing Closing Time Protocol please, Fri,” Tony mumbled. 
“Goodnight Boss, goodnight Doctor,” the AI replied, beginning to run the lab’s standard closing protocol. 
“Portal?” Stephen asked. Tony was getting better with going through portals, but some days were harder than others. Stephen didn’t know what tonight would be like and opted to ask, selfishly wanting to make sure Tony got some rest as soon as possible. 
He was so out of it by that point that Stephen wasn’t sure if Tony registered the question, but he nodded slowly and trusted Stephen to lead him through it and into their bed. 
Despite “resembling a sloth clinging to a tree bough,” (Tony’s words) Stephen was intuitive and knew when not to hug Tony. Even when he was asleep, if Tony woke up thrashing or fighting against something in a dream, Stephen let him go. 
Tonight was a bit different. Stephen wasn’t brought to the edge of reality by Tony thrashing in their bed or accidentally tangling himself in their sheets, so he assumed everything was fine. That was until the sorcerer hugged his husband closer, still mostly asleep and just following his instinct, and Tony outright begged Stephen to let go of him. He wasn’t quite awake, but Stephen backed off immediately and heard Tony trip over his own feet as he left the room. The sorcerer fell asleep again after that, trying to stop the sound of Tony’s broken plea from cementing itself in his memory. When Tony climbed back into bed some time later, Stephen was stirring a little bit more. Tony hid his face in Stephen’s collarbone and said nothing, his breathing still slightly erratic. 
“Sorry if I woke you up,” he mumbled. 
“Don’ be,” Stephen replied, his voice unsure whether or not to wake up. 
“Will you hold me again?” Tony asked pleadingly, his voice almost imperceptible. 
Stephen wordlessly obliged, kissing the top of his head. “Whatever’s bothering you… you can talk to me about it. When you’re ready. And you don’t have to, but I’m here for you.” 
Tony nodded. “It feels like too much right now. What I’m thinking about, I mean. I need time to process, I guess.” 
“Okay,” Stephen said simply. “But I’m here for you whenever.”
“I know. I love you,” Tony replied. 
Stephen began to trace soothing patterns on Tony’s back. “Love you Tones.” 
++++
Tony didn’t seem any more rested the next day, but his confident Tony Stark™ pose seemed natural. He’d easily be able to fool people who didn’t know him as well as his family did. So it was a “fake it until you make it” kind of day, and Tony’s energy was on a strict schedule. There was only so much he could take today, and if his teammates wanted to call him selfish then that was their choice. 
It would just go in one ear and out the other, especially this late in the day and after brutal team training. Tony was close to skipping the meeting, but a cutting remark in the hallway made him change his mind. Why did they always act like it was breaking news when Tony needed to step back from something anyway? He was just as human as anyone else, and the world was happy to throw responsibilities on his unenhanced, steady shoulders just because he was a natural caretaker. 
The arguments about Tony’s quiet, withdrawn demeanor started two minutes into the meeting. Stephen was ready to defend his husband as soon as they got to the conference room, Tony collapsing into a chair and leaning his head against the cool metal of the table. 
He didn’t want to talk today, and Stephen didn’t want him to. 
“It’s not nap time, Stark.” There was a small hint of fondness in Natasha’s cold, clipped voice. 
Tony was already regretting his decision to show up, wishing he hadn’t told Stephen again and again that he was fine. He wasn’t, and they both knew it. Everyone knew it, but Tony knew better than to advocate for himself in front of his… colleagues. 
“I don’t even remember what we’re meeting about,” Tony muttered, looking up enough to address whoever was talking to him. 
Rhodey took a seat beside Tony, encouragingly patting his back. “You good?” 
“I’m fine, Honeybear,” Tony replied. He was sitting between his two favorite people, and that helped him feel a little more grounded. “I just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”
Someone scoffed. “I don’t think anyone’s slept right in months. And don’t say you haven’t slept in years, Stark. We don’t need a story about how everything you’ve ever done has led to years of sleepless nights. We know already. Put it in a book or something and make the team more money so I can have better arrows.” 
Stephen was two seconds away from dropping the archer into the Dark Dimension, or flipping a table. He wasn’t sure how to handle the man yet, still taken aback by the rudeness and stupidity of his comment. “Barton, what the fuck—” 
“Steph, don’t bother with him,” Tony said. He stood up, forcing his tiredness into a corner and giving his coworkers a confident glare. “Pardon me for giving it my all and being a bit tired as a result. Now I’m going to get an ice pack for my shoulder and maybe a cup of coffee. Does anyone want anything?” 
“I’ll take a—”
“Get it yourself, you know where the kitchen is.” 
For dramatic effect (and moral support), the cloak landed on Tony’s shoulders and billowed out as he left the room. He returned with the aforementioned ice and coffee, and a mug of tea for Stephen. 
“You didn’t have to do that sweetheart, but thank you,” Stephen said appreciatively. 
“That’s why I wanted to,” Tony replied. He relaxed a little into his chair, starting to believe he could get through the meeting. 
Then, like clockwork, Clint opened his mouth to complain. 
“Why did you bring him tea and nothing for the rest of us?” He whined. 
“Doesn’t Tony do enough for you?” Stephen asked, innocently taking a sip of his tea. It was his afternoon green tea, made exactly the way he liked it. 
Tony was always so sweet and attentive with his loved ones, it warmed Stephen’s heart. The sorcerer stifled a laugh as Rhodey poured half of Tony’s coffee into his own empty mug. 
“Thank you,” the colonel said impishly. “Consider the roommate tax paid for this month.” 
Tony tried to smile at the old inside joke, but Stephen noticed that it fell flat. 
“Are we done with the interruptions? We need to talk about what’s out there. We don’t know if Thanos is the exception or the rule, and—”
Tony stopped listening. Clint’s snootiness was doing his head in, but the idea of another threat, another thing, another colossus he’d have to conquer and survive if his luck had anything to say about it… that was the breaking point. 
Tony didn’t have a good relationship with luck. He didn’t really believe in it, but apparently it believed in him. Because Tony was lucky. It was true that he was lucky in meeting his husband, his friends, and his family, but this was a different kind of luck. Tony was intelligent and skilled, shrewd and savvy, and there was virtually nothing he couldn’t do or solve, except for one thing. 
He was constantly lucky, constantly cheating death. 
And he didn’t realize that he was hyperventilating, didn’t recall dropping his head into his hands. He didn’t recall that he’d just walked out in the middle of the meeting after a minute, didn’t realize that he was home when he opened his eyes. 
Tony was home, in his spot on the couch in Stephen’s library. Stephen was sitting beside him, quietly watching a documentary or something like that. Tony was laying down, his head in Stephen’s lap with the cloak draped over him like a blanket. The crimson fabric continued to cling to him as he sat up, further proving Tony’s point that Levi liked him best, but he wasn’t in the mood to banter now. He just appreciated the support and the warmth of his sorcerer and their shared, sentient blanket.
With some hesitancy, Tony leaned over and rested his head on Stephen’s shoulder. They locked eyes for a minute, Tony’s gaze deliriously bright and vacant. 
Stephen didn’t know what to say or do to make the man trembling in his arms feel better, but started by hugging him closer and softly stroking up and down his spine. 
“I’m sorry,” Tony whispered, lowering his head and hiding against Stephen’s chest. 
“No apologies,” Stephen reminded him. “I don’t want or need them, and you don’t have to explain yourself.” 
“I have to give a good reason,” Tony said, his voice beginning to shake. “Everything I do needs a reason.” 
“Why? Says who?” Stephen asked. He was more thinking aloud, half expecting Tony to leave the question unanswered. 
For a while, he did. He just sat, furiously trying to blink back tears and gather his thoughts as Stephen held him protectively. 
“Sometimes I think about… things,” Tony began vaguely. “And people. And places. I guess I just like nouns.” 
At this point, he didn’t even know if he was trying to deflect or just tell a joke, but his attempt at humor fell flat. He tried to force a laugh, but halfway through it turned into a painful sob. He cried harder with each breath, ignoring the ache in his chest. Tony barely listened when Stephen encouraged him to breathe, but eventually he gave into his exhaustion and listened to his lungs. 
His stupid lungs, which apparently were just as stubborn as his brain. 
“I can’t keep doing this,” Tony whispered. “I shouldn’t have survived Afghanistan, New York, Sokovia, Siberia, or Titan. I can’t keep cheating death, Stephen. I don’t want to. I don’t want to be lucky and survive when the damage I’ve caused, the damage I claim full responsibility for, has taken so many lives. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt or killed for me.” 
Stephen pressed a soft kiss to his hair, feeling Tony’s guit and fatigue as if it was his own. 
“I don’t want to do this,” Tony repeated. “I’m probably just spiraling or being needlessly selfish, but  I… I don’t know.” 
“You’re taking on too much responsibility where you don’t need to,” Stephen said. “I know that’s easy for me to just say from the outside, but you aren’t the only Avenger. It’s about time the team, if you can even call them that, takes accountability for their actions and stops bulldozing you with their problems. You aren’t selfish, Tones. You’re tired and overworked, and you deserve a break. You deserve to breathe, to just exist without feeling like you have to look over your shoulder or justify your every step.” 
“I don’t think I know how to even do that anymore,” Tony replied. “And I don’t deserve it.” 
“You do,” Stephen argued. “And rest assured I’ll keep telling you that. And I’ll keep telling you how much I love you, because I really do.” 
Tony smiled sadly, trying to press himself closer to Stephen if that was even possible. “I love you too.” 
He was starting to settle down, soothed by a flurry of soft kisses in his hair and the gentle brushes up and down his spine, when FRIDAY quietly spoke up. She almost sounded remorseful. 
“Mister Parker is requesting one or both of you in the lab, whenever it’s convenient,” she began. “And he’s asked me to assure you that it’s nothing major.” 
Tony sighed, sitting up again. “I’ll investigate.” 
Stephen shook his head. “No, let me. I’ll tell Peter that you’re resting, and he’ll understand.” 
“I don’t want him to think I don’t care,” Tony whispered. 
“He would never think that. You know how he gets about making sure you take care of yourself, and Peter knows with certainty that you care about him. Our son is much more mature than the Avengers,” Stephen replied. 
“I still feel bad,” Tony said. 
“I know. I can promise him Thai food if that’ll make you feel better?” Stephen suggested, half jokingly. 
“It actually would,” Tony admitted. “FRIDAY, will you schedule a Thai food delivery for 6:30pm please?” 
“Scheduled,” she replied simpy. She still sounded apologetic for disturbing them right as Tony was falling asleep, but maybe Stephen imagined that. 
The sorcerer stood up gracefully, covering Tony with another blanket as the cloak wrapped a bit tighter around him. “Look after yourself and relax, or get some sleep. No one’s expecting anything from you right now Tones, alright? I love you.” 
Tony nodded, a little smile on his face as Stephen kissed him again. “Love you.” 
He really wanted to sleep. He actually put effort into falling asleep, which was something he never thought he’d do, and of course sleep didn’t come easily. Sleep never came easily, but the memories did. It was all too easy for Tony to get caught in a thought stream, whether he was planning a surprise, inventing, or remembering unpleasantries. Today he was overwhelmed by guilt, readily convincing himself that he was a selfish failure like Howard Stark and his teammates liked to say. It was too easy to get lost in their ire and wanting to please everyone, and Tony had given up so much of his agency just to try and make other people happy. 
It was exhausting, and he didn’t even feel like he’d succeeded at that. 
The mechanic started tearing up again as he continued to think in a circular pattern, faintly aware of the Cloak trying to comfort him. It was a sweet, welcome gesture, and Tony let it happen and let himself cry. He was still laying there in tears when Stephen came back in half an hour later.
“Pete says he hopes you feel better,” Stephen said, returning to his spot and pulling Tony close. “And I told him to just go ahead and eat whenever he’s hungry, or when the food gets here.” 
Tony just nodded, feeling relieved and supported in Stephen’s arms again. He nodded again, as if trying to shake the unending self-deprecating thoughts from his head, before saying anything. “Sounds good.”
tags: @salty-ironstrange-shipper @stark-strange-love2 @chocopiggy @katninjagirl97 @kitkatfat15 @taruyison @funkylittlebidiot
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choco-glow · 3 years
Text
Day of the Dead (Robin)
April 27th.
The bed shifted, creaked as Bruce dragged himself up out of the comfort of his way too expensive (and totally worth it) mattress, followed reluctantly by an equally exhausted Selina. He insisted she use the bathroom first, taking that time to rub his face and scalp, forcing himself into an alertness that he didn’t feel…and Bruce ignored his constantly buzzing phone. He could hear Alfred puttering around in his own room down the hall, Damian’s near silent footsteps alongside his dog’s as the youngest Wayne limped down to let Titus out. Tim…Bruce sighed, knowing that Tim one of two places; passed out in the chair in front of the computer down in the cave, or passed out on the couch in the library, his laptop on the floor.
Either way, he was sleeping, most likely, and Bruce was going to take advantage of that.
“Hey.” He glanced up, and the smile on his lips was small, but real; she looked so good leaning against the doorway in nothing but her underwear and one of his old band tees, tousled hair sticking to her forehead from her shower, a sweet smile on her face, those familiar green-blue eyes always so dark in the morning. Bruce dragged himself upright to wrap her up in his arms, hugging her tight, and Selina melted against him, nuzzling his cheek. “Bruce…”
“Thank you for staying…” He murmured, gratitude thick in his voice, and she patted his bicep, popping up on her tiptoes to kiss his nose.
“Of course, sweetheart. Go wash up and get dressed, I’ll head down and help Alfred with breakfast?”
“Selina, you don’t have to…” She shook her head, chuckling, and he chuckled back, ignoring his impulse to just turn away and go brood. Brooding wouldn’t help today…
“I want to. I know what today is…and why it’s so hard.” He ducked his head, swallowing his next word, and she cupped his cheek. “Bruce. I mean it. Jason…” He lifted his head, blue eyes tired but crinkled from a weary smile.
“I miss him.”
“I do too. Go on. We’ll be waiting for you.” He nodded, and after a lingering kiss, despite Cat’s aversion to morning breath, Bruce let her go. The shower was hot enough to wash away some of the pain from his shoulder and upper back, and after washing up, he carefully redressed the bandage on his thigh, then pulled on a pair of old jeans and a tee shirt. It was Saturday, thankfully, so Bruce didn’t have to worry about a suit, and making his way down the stairs, he was glad to see visitors…especially these visitors.
Four years…four years, he’s been gone now. His heart twinged, but Bruce didn’t have to hold up a mask around Dick, who hugged him tight as soon as his first Robin saw him, nor around Barb, who he knelt to hug as well. Steph looked a little lost, a little nervous to be here, and Bruce hugged her too, whispering thanks to her as he’d done to the rest, and if Steph hugged his waist a little harder, her voice a little thick…well, Bruce wasn’t going to tell.
“Father, Alfred the cat is most worried about you.” Bruce paused as he set Steph back on her feet, turning to face Damian, who was holding his purring tuxedo cat and looking concerned…and Bruce couldn’t help the tiny, choked sob, because Damian looked so much like Jason at that age, his whole being focused on “comfort father”.
“So I see. May I hold him?” Damian nodded, and Bruce gently took the cat, smiling as Alfred bumped noses with him and settled on his shoulder, purring deeper still. “Thank you, Damian…”
“This is an auspicious day; we need all the comfort we can receive…” He murmured, and Bruce hugged his youngest tight, tears spilling over now…and Damian hugged him back, clinging to him tight.
“That’s…that’s true…c’mon everyone, we better get into the kitchen before Alfred the butler and Selina yell at us.” He murmured, and Dick chuckled while Barb smiled and took the lead. Damian pulled away from the hug, but not from Bruce, and they walked in hand in hand, taking comfort from one another. Jason’s photo, the last one taken two weeks before he died, was sitting on the counter, as always, with a candle lit…and the new addition of a tin can with the label meticulously soaked off, full of dandelions, and Bruce paused by it, lips twitching up in a fond smile.
“Master Bruce, I hope you don’t mind…I wanted…well…I remember Jason making those bouquets for us when he was a child…” Alfred murmured, and Bruce just pulled him into a hug, tears running hot down his cheeks now.
“I can’t think of a better thing…It’s perfect. Best bunch of flowers that’s ever entered this house.” They all shared a laugh at that, though Selina, Steph, and Damian looked a little confused, and it was Dick who explained, his voice warm and fond as he remembered all the times Jason would prowl the Wayne grounds, plucking dandelions and purple clovers, filling an old coffee can or tin can full to the brim and bringing them back to the house to share, his smile bright and happy.
“…At first, we offered him the flowers from the garden, and Jason just shook his head, looking scared, and said that he got in trouble for pulling those. No one cared about the wildflowers.”
“Oh, what a sweetheart…” Selina breathed, and Bruce and Alfred settled at the table at last, which prompted Dick to pass them the plate of pancakes and motion to fill up.
“He really was…c’mon, let’s eat, best way to remember our boy.”
“Here here! And whatever we do, avoid Buzzfeed today.” Barb raised her OJ in a toast, and Bruce closed his eyes with a sigh.
“God, I hate Buzzfeed…”
“Same here, old man. Same here.”
—-
Six months I’ve been back, and not a Bat to bother me. Jason settled in for a quiet Saturday morning, and ignored cable for a change; he knew what was going to be all over the news today, and he, for one, didn’t want to hear yet another poignant portrayal of his death. At least Bruce wouldn’t be out in public today; he’d learned that from running through the old news stories from the last few years, and frankly, Jason was grateful for it. It…meant that Bruce at least care enough to mourn him. Even if the goddamn Joker is still alive…
He sighed, and pushed away the anger he still felt at that fact, and pulled out his guns, then pulled up YouTube on his TV. He scrolled through his usual recommended list, feeling…restless and a little out of his element; it was the first death day he’d spent back in Gotham, and his normal goofy favorites just…weren’t going to cut it. Then he saw the one video he didn’t expect to see.
Buzzfeed Unsolved: Jason Todd, Wayne or Robin?
A grin split his face.
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
—-
“Welcome to Buzzfeed Unsolved. I’m Ryan Bergera, and this is Shane Madej. Today, we are covering the mysterious deaths of two important people in the deadly metropolis that is Gotham City…or are we?”
“Wait, what?”
“Jason Todd Wayne, the adopted son of billionaire Bruce Wayne, and the second Boy Wonder, Robin, both of whom disappeared the same day, April 27th…and have never been heard from again.”
“Ryan, you said it was one murder!”
“And therein lays our mystery, because the more you hear details of the case, the more you wonder if these two boys were really the same person.”
“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh…I smell a conspiracy!”
“Shane, you smell lunch.”
“And a conspiracy! C’mon, out with details, gimme something, Bergera.”
“Hold your freakin’ horses, dude, lemme go over things…” Jason watched with unconcealed delight as he disassembled his pistol, cleaning each part as Ryan laid out the admittedly sparse facts of the case; of course, Jason knew the truth, but he was frankly somewhat impressed with the story that Bruce and Alfred had concocted. Of course, they couldn’t say the Joker beat him to death with a crowbar and blew up a building on him ( and even Bruce couldn’t have guessed that Talia al Ghul had stolen his corpse from the morgue, gave them an equally beaten dead kid to bury, and dumped his ass in the Lazarus Pit). But the story of Jason being killed as a hit out on the Wayne family was all too likely.
Batman had a lot of enemies.
Bruce Wayne had a lot more.
“No one was ever charged for Jason’s murder…here’s the last video of the press conference where Bruce explains things.”
“…Jesus, he’s barely keeping it together…I know he’s a billionaire, but he’s got a lot of heart…poor guy…”
“Yeah…I know we tend to fuck around on this channel, but…this kid died. Pretty badly, from what the evidence shows.”
“Man…so, you said there were theories, right?”
“Yeah, and they only get worse from here.”
“Well, we started the program with a dead kid; can’t get any worse than that.” Jason paused the video and just…stared at Bruce’s face, the tears on his cheeks, his exhausted appearance…and sighed a little.
“Sorry Dad…”
—-
“Theory number one: Dick Grayson killed Jason Todd out of jealousy. It was rumored that the brothers didn't get along and Dick and his father didn't have a good relationship when Jason came to the household.” Jason’s eyes narrowed at that one; whoever thought up that crock of shit had another thing coming. Sure, he and Dick had bickered like brothers, but at the end of the day, Dick was his brother from another mother. Even now, even with everything that had happened…Jason missed those hugs something fierce.
“I mean, that’s a pretty cut and dry one…”
“So it would seem…but if you look at the interviews, there’s nothing in Dick’s demeanor that shows any resentment or anger. And both Jason and Dick were orphaned at early ages and adopted by Bruce, so…”
“Yeah, I dunno. It’s cut and dry, but…at the same time, it doesn’t really make sense.”
“Especially given that Dick every year celebrates Jason’s birthday; I mean, killers can be weird, we know that from the last several seasons, but…I dunno. It doesn’t really fit.”
“Probably some asshole detective looking to close it up.”
“Probably…”
“On to number two!”
—-
“Bruce Wayne killed Jason Todd. This was, actually, the first big conspiracy theory to hit the web. Thankfully, it quickly died when people saw just how devastated Bruce was for months after his death, but apparently there are still some trolls on public forums who accuse Bruce Wayne of killing his son.”
“…That’s utter bullshit. Fuckers.”
“Right there with ya, buddy. Right there with ya. Onto three?”
“Please.”
—-
“Jason isn't dead, because of sightings of a homeless boy who wandered all around Crime Alley and looked exactly like Jason Todd. He was completely battered and bruised and suddenly disappeared after a year in the streets, likely due to a trafficking ring.” Jason raised an eyebrow at that, and turned his AK, Shane and Ryan’s incredulousness a comfort. He wasn’t sure why he was still watching this, but…it was kinda nice. Nice to have people be pissed off for his sake.
“Jesus Christ, Gotham, y’all are so dark.”
“May be why their superhero is Batman, dude.”
“STILL. Could this one have some merit, though, since he was an orphan?”
“This one is one of the strongest theories to date, because Jason was from a place called the Narrows, not far from Crime Alley, and according to Wayne Enterprises official documentation in their family museum, Jason had had issues with drugs and abuse, though to what extent, only the family knows. It’s a pretty ugly idea, but…it’s possible.”
“I think I’d rather be dead, Ryan, than go through that.”
“Same. Same…”
“Now. We move onto the disappearance of the second Robin, who vanished the same day that Jason Todd supposedly died. Possible theories of the disappearance of the second boy wonder—”
“Ryan. Ryan. Buddy. Champ. Are you implying, really, that Jason and Robin are the same kid?!”
“I’m just reading the script!”
“You wrote the script!”
“…I may be implying that they’re the same, yes.”
“I KNEW IT.”
“You don’t know shit.” Jason started laughing, and paused to get himself a fresh beer, ordering pizza while he was at it. Alright, this wasn’t so bad after all…
“He is hiding. Some say he hid from Batman, and some say Batman is hiding him from others. They don't know what, though. Some even say he quit the job.”
“Alright, I’ll bite, who’s ‘some’.”
“Paparazzi, conspiracy theorists, Alex Jones, etc…”
“Ah yes. The enlightened crowd.”
“Pftt…This is the weakest one, so we’ll go ahead and lay out the second theory while we’re at it. The second Robin died. After Robin stopped appearing with batman for an entire year, the same time Jason Todd died. This used to be a widely spread theory, until people realized maybe talking about the death of a boy in a terrorist attack for a conspiracy theory after his father broke down in public isn't the nicest thing to do.”
“And this is your theory.”
“This…is the strongest one I think, and the one that has the most emotional punch. But let’s be real; if the second Robin was indeed Jason Todd, then his Batman HAS to be Bruce Wayne. And c’mon. We’ve all seen the nightmare surrounding THAT theory.”
“Uh, yeah. No thanks, I do not ever need to write another “But the butts don’t match” article ever again in my life.” Jason snorted at that, cracking up laughing, and when he googled “The Butts don’t match”, he had to pause his boys because the ensuing hyena laugh had him flat on his back for ten minutes, absolutely losing his shit.
“Oh Christ, I love the internet…”
—-
“Next theory. He’s a kid, he took a break from vigilante-ing to do something else.”
“Now see, I like this one; that’s like, the most wholesome version. I hope this is the real one, but…”
“I know, man. I know.”
“Sigh.”
“Sigh.”
—-
“Almost there. Some people believe the second and the third Robin are the same, although many people disagree, considering witness reports that they looked very different, and the Robins were very distinctive in their fighting style and personalities.” Jason snorted at that, shoveling a slice of pizza into his gullet, and even the boys were looking a bit annoyed at that theory, Shane more than Ryan.
“Question.”
“Yes?”
“How the hell do they know about fighting styles?!”
“Gotham City Police.”
“Oh. Well, that makes sense now.”
“Also, apparently Commissioner Gordon likes the third Robin more, which tells me they’re definitely not the same.”
“Yeah, if anyone other than Batman would know, he would. What’s next?”
“This one is kinda great, but also a bit outrageous.”
“Ooooh, juicy. Spill the beans, Bergera!”
—-
“Some even believe that the second Robin is now the infamous Red Hood. Gothamites have been known to try to stalk the dude but it's never successful, and supposedly, even the Batfam won’t bother him.”
“I mean, that’s a cool story, but how true is it?”
“Considering the guy wears a red freakin’ helmet with eyeholes and no mouth, who knows how true it is?”
“Still a nicer story than the butts. And hey, Red Hood is pretty chill, man, I think he’s probably the best thing to hit Gotham in years.”
“You’re a Hoodie!”
“The fuck is a ‘Hoodie?”
“Red Hood groupie.”
“Uh, hell no, I just think he’s cool.”
“Uh huh…Well, folks, that ties up our deep dive into the murder of Jason Todd, and the disappearance of the second Robin. To date, this case remains…Unsolved.” As the quiet music that ushered in the ending screen and credits, Jason sat back, working his second slice of pizza, and chuckled a little to himself. If only they knew…well. His people knew who he was; old man Falcone figured it out the second day Jason had been home. The Narrows had welcomed their boy back…And they weren’t gonna tell anyone. They didn’t trust Gothamites, they didn’t trust the Bats…which was why Jason had carved out his place here again, with gunfire and brutal justice. They trusted him.
He turned YouTube over to something mindless, and padded over to the window, feeling the sunshine, weak though it was, break through the clouds and warm his skin. Jason leaned against the familiar brick, and opened the window, letting in a rush of cool air, reminiscent of spring.
It was good to be home.
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salty-fang · 4 years
Text
Twisted Fate Sugar Edition
Part three (sorry for the long wait) thanks for being patient @loveswifi
Marinette had had a weird day. She had kept being pulled in the direction of people who could’ve been mistaken for male versions of herself. Jason, Tim and Dick.
She had met Jason first. She had taken a quick detour from her hour-long trip to the fabric store. It had been a week after her outing with Gina, Alfred and Bruce Wayne but a week before the whole Lila debacle. She hadn’t expected Lila to even be in Gotham so Marinette didn’t feel the need to worry. She should have.
----------------------------------------------------
Jason had loads of knowledge on malicious stalking. Growing up as a vigilante taught him some things. So, he was truly stunned when he saw two shady people watched that pregnant woman with wolfish glares that he actually felt the need to follow them. He dragged her out of there line of sight, which without an explanation was pretty stupid. She’d kicked him in the balls causing him to hiss.
“Let go of me.”
“I’m trying to help you. A woman and a man have been watching you for a fucking long time. I just wanted to make sure you knew them. By the way, I’m Jason Todd.”
“Marinette.”
“One of them literally has sausages for hair. I think I’m going to have nightmares for a while.”
“Ugh, you should meet Lila Rossi.”
“Agreste's new wife?”
“Yup. Her eyes are so cold and dead. And she wears so much orange. It’s so painful when you actually look at her that I’d rather stick pins in my eyes.”
“Yo, this chick is the same. You sure we aren’t talking about the same person?” she snuck a quick look around the corner, laughing at the confusion on both Lila and Kim’s faces. She’d laughed too loud as Lila’s head whipped in her direction.
“That’s definitely her. Still as annoying as ever.” Kim had whispered something in Lila's ear just as she rounded the corner. They had started sprinting towards her and were going to catch her if she didn’t move her ass.
‘I can’t run far in heels. I’m going to have to catch a bus. The doctor did tell me to take it easy. Can’t affect those triplets with too much movement.’
She had only made it outside the door when she felt herself be hoisted onto sturdy shoulders.
“Let go of me! Oh it’s you Jay. Give a girl some warning will ya!” she said sighing in exasperation.
“Sorry but you really thought I was going to watch them hurt my little sis.”
“Hey! I’m not little. And put me down. “
“That’s what your focused on? And I won’t put you down. You may think you don’t need help but you’re wrong. So let your good big bro do his job.
“Good my ass,” she muttered, ducking under a signpost. “More like arrogant goofball.” Kim and Lila had either disappeared or they just blended in with the crowd very well. They’d probably lost them. Thank God for that.
“Jay, you can put me down now.”
“Huh, are they gone?”
“Yup.” She said popping the ‘p'. “Thank you Jay. For everything.”
“No worries, pixie pop. You’re my sis. I’d kill a bitch for you.” Marinette had fallen in line with Jason. But with his long strides and her pregnancy she was always steps behind him. Sure he’d fall back to match her pace but Lila had waited until the perfect moment to capitalise. She’d tried to scream for help but she had lost the ability to. They dragged her round the corner to one of her favourite cafés. Her head ached where Lila had pulled tightly on her braid (think Lady Noire) as she felt several strands of her hair fall out. Had no one found her being dragged around slightly disturbing?
She supposed no one cared about business that didn’t affect them in Gotham. Wow. Great, just great. She’d submitted herself fully when another blue-eyed black-haired man had come to her rescue. Seriously, was everyone in Gotham like Jay Jay or had he just been a manifestation of her sleep deprivation. He’d seemed so real, so human but it wouldn’t be the first time her mind would make something so absurd up. It was probably her loneliness acting up again. There was no way any sane person would stay around her for so long.
---------------------------------------------------
Surprisingly it had been Tim who saved her, though she hadn’t known that. Unsurprisingly, Jay and him had two distinctly different personalities. He lived off coffee, looked twice his age with those bags but had such wit about him that he could manipulate the situation without the other party realising. He had been surrounded by so many coffee cups that she had thought he had been in his final year preparing for exams or perhaps working night shifts every day of the week. But nooooo, he was the co-CEO of a business. Starting at the age of 17. Marinette had felt some of the burden dropped on her and she wasn’t even in his position. No wonder he looked like he needed a pick me up. It was just as well that she’d come equipped with her special coffee. She’d make more for Gina later, he needed it more. Plus, Gigi wouldn’t be back in hours.
“I know you said it was alright to sit with you uhh...”
“Tim.”
“Right, Tim. I don’t want to bother you anymore but that coffee looks like it doesn’t do shit for you. I made some for my grandma but she won’t be back for ages so maybe... you would like it?” Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Of course he won’t want some he probably thinks you’re a weirdo who poisoned his drink. Maybe you can take it back from him? “ on second thought-"
“Sure. Why not?” Ok Tim needs sleep. My God, I could have spiked his drink and he accepted it. He’s so vulnerable like this.
“If I give you my drink it will probably take a minute to kick in but... but you have to promise me that you’ll drink my power down later. If you don’t I’ll find you and I’ll get you to sleep one way or another. Don’t test me.” He gulped, eyes wide as he frantically nodded. “Good. Now would you like some pastries to go with your Marinette’s Super Special?” Her shift in character made him freeze. He couldn’t find his voice quick enough and instead opted for a simple thumbs up. She dug two flasks out of her bag, placing one in front of him and sniffed her own. Then, she brought two plates out, setting out croissants so buttery they made him drool, raspberry macaroons and a dozen mini chocolate chip muffins.
“You look like you needed a sugar rush so I guessed what you might like. Sorry if they’re not your favourites. Now chop chop eat up child!” Tim took a tentative sip of his drink feeling it slip down his throat. It had been just how he liked it yet slightly stronger. And then he felt the kick. It had been so small that his brain glossed over it but it’d been there. He was starting to feel more human again. And it had shown. His face had become less pallid and gaunt, his eyes held a fire that had been previously extinguished and his movements became less robotic, almost lighter. Before Marinette could utter ‘I told you so' everything had vanished. Tim was never usually a messy eater but he definitely was right now. Chocolate was smeared all over his chin , flakes from the croissant had littered around his suit and coffee had spilt on his white polo shirt.
“Beanie,” he muttered, a wild look in his egyptian blue eyes. “Please tell me you’re real. Or I at least died and went to heaven. You’re too sweet not to be in my life. I don’t know how I lived without you before. Please, I need you as my dealer. Your coffee is the only one I’ll ever drink again. Please.”
----------------------------------------------------
It wasn’t every day you saw Tim Drake beg on his knees and whine. But when you did, you would probably laugh your ass off. Whoever that poor girl was had just attracted the attention of invasive photographers. Unlucky, but at least they would get a show out of it.
“If I give you my coffee you’re not going to sleep. You’re going to be a living zombie and I can’t live with that. I’d rather not have anyone connecting me with your death from excessive tiredness.” Tim knew he had to play dirty if he was going to win. Thankfully, Steph had taught him how to master the art of puppy dog eyes which he aimed at Marinette. He then wrapped his arms around her leg, consequently being dragged along the unsanitary sidewalk to where both their belongings were.
“Please please please please PLEASE.” He noticed Marinette’s will become fragile. He wobbled his bottom lip, sniffling softly. “I’ll stop begging if you say yes. Please beanie.”
“Fine.” She huffed whilst he fist pumped the air. “But we do things on my terms alright?”
“Yes ma’am!”
“Jeez. You’ve given me a headache.” She stated aiming a half-hearted glare at a sheepish Tim. “That’s an achievement, dude, not even Chloé could do that and her tantrums were super bratty.”
He had gone to apologise when shrill ringing rang in the air.
“Sorry,” he mouthed. “ I have to take this.”
“Jason what do you want? You just interrupted my deal with my dealer.”
“ I didn’t know you had it in you. But now isn’t the time. I need you to check security where you are. Pixie pop's gone missing.”
“Pixie pop?”
“I’ll explain later but right now she’s in danger. See you in 5 replacement.” With nothing left to say the line went dead and he decided to run some checks on Jason’s location whilst idly chatting with Marinette. She had asked for his unique insight on her latest design.
“What shade would you use on this? I’m only asking because of your peculiar style.”
“Definitely lavender but towards the bottom fade into a dark purple. And peculiar?”
“Who wears a suit on a hot summers day?” she asked eyebrow raised.
“Me. Batman. Business owners. Cosplayers. Bruce Wayne. The list could go on but I don’t have all day.” He said throwing an exaggerated wink at her.
“None of those people you mentioned are normal except maybe cosplayers so it doesn’t count. Better luck next time. I’m going to go pee.” Tim had opened his mouth to respond when he spotted Jason. He looked terrible. His hair was matted against his forehead with sweat, his eyes were bloodshot.
“I came as soon as I could. What did you find replacement? Spit it out. I don’t have all fucking day.”
“First, I want you to meet me dealer and then we can talk about what happened to ‘pixie' and who they even are.”
“Tim, as much as I’d love to meet your drug buddy, it’ll have to wait. She’s more important. I’m worried that the people who took her are going to seriously harm her.”
“Fine but you’re missing out on meeting the sweetest girl ever.”
“I’ll pass.” Jason snarled before turning back to the pixelated security feed. “That was where I last saw her. That’s weird. It’s like she disappeared from all footage. Do you have any other leads?”
“Jay-Jay?” Marinette barrelled into him locking him in a hug. “How do you know tater-tot?”
“Hey!”
“Sorry little lady but I’m looking for someone. Holy shit, is that you pixie pop?”
“Yup and who you calling little lady? I’m fun sized and could totally whoop your ass if I wasn’t pregnant. Just remember that Jason.” The way she had said his name sent shivers up his spine. She had delivered her sentence as a fact, not a threat.
“That’s why you’re my favourite, pixie pop.” Jason said, tearing up.
“Replacement, how did you even save Marinette?”
“They probably took a look at his half dead state and got scared off.” After an hour of re-introduction, they finally left. Jason drove her back on his motorcycle and dumped Tim’s limp body (from drinking Marinette’s calming chai tea) on his back.
With many hours to kill before Gina would be back from her night shift, she got changed into her gym clothes- a pink shirt with short sleeves and grey shorts- and headed to her local sports centre. Surprisingly, it was Dick who saved her this time
Marinette had been doing light exercise to keep in shape every day since she arrived in Gotham. She had a daily routine of squats, sit ups and weights, moving at her own pace. She had only attended the gym once before this and everyone had been friendly or had just gone about their days. Today was the first day anyone had actually approached her
“Hey sunshine, is it alright if I call you sunshine?” She nodded. “There’s a creepy guy watching you. He hasn’t actually done any workouts but he’s pointing his phone at you for a hell of a long time.”
“Thank you for telling me...”
“Richard but you can call me Dick.” She snickered. “If you want to that is.” Dick walked away to take a quick call from his brother when...
WARNING: YOU MIGHT NOT BE COMFORTABLE READING THIS PART. TW: sexual harassment. I'll put a brief summary at the bottom if you would rather skip
When she felt a firm hand squeeze her ass. She felt it trail down her shorts before she could even look at their face. She leapt away from his grasp, her breathing heavy as she looked around for any support. Unfortunately, the gym was empty, giving the predator an easy advantage.
“Hey baby did anyone tell you you’re damn sexy when you smile? Cuz you definitely are.” he aimed a snide smile at her. His yellow teeth glinted and his heady scent made her sick. “Princess, come back to mine tonight. We could have so much fun together and I’ll make you scream until you forget your own name. So, how about it?” He had approached he, pushing her boundaries, forcing her to back up against the wall.
‘No. Not ever. But especially not today.’
Marinette paled quickly. Gina wouldn’t be home for hours and he would most likely follow her home anyways. With no one to bear witness to this, he could do as he pleased. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. He could seriously hurt her or worse... and there would be nothing she could do about it. She’d just fade into the background, just another statistic. No one would believe her because ‘she shouldn’t have dressed like that’ and ‘she definitely wanted it’. So, she would fight and if he won well so be it. At least she had done all she could.
“Has anyone told you it’s rude to hit on people’s girlfriends?” Dick said forcing himself between them. He knew she could handle it but something about that guy made him uneasy. Marinette had exuded confidence but she still trembled and he could see how tense her muscles had been.
“He’s your boyfriend? You could do so much better than him. Just tell him your coming home with me. Or better yet, I’ll pay you to do it in front of me.” Marinette could see the repulsion on Dick’s face, as she gagged. “Yes, that would be way better. I’ll seriously pay you. Got a couple hundred bucks if you want it.” He stated palming himself through his jeans.
“No thanks. Maybe after she’s given birth?”
“She’s pregnant? What a slut. I bet she poked holes in your condom so you wouldn’t be able to leave her. Anyways, got to get back home to the wife and kids. Hit me up when she’s good again.” Marinette flung her arms around Dick as soon as she was sure he was gone.
Tw over
“Thank you so much. He wouldn't have stopped if you hadn’t come Dick.”
“No problem, sunshine.”
“It’s Marinette.” She mumbled, scuffing her shoes against the gym floor.
“What?”
“The name's Marinette. I would have loved to meet you under different circumstances. Oh well. Nice to meet you anyways.”
“You too Mari. Are you driving back home?”
“I actually walked her. I’ll probably just call a taxi or walk back.”
“No way sunshine. That guy is a huge sleaze ball. I don’t doubt that he’ll try something funny. If no one’s coming to pick you up I’ll walk you back home. Ok?”
“Ok.”
Dick had been completely right. The dude had been waiting outside, most likely waiting for Mari to leave but when he saw them leave together, he raced to his car. Dick had memorized his license plate and got a brief description of the car but he would probably dump it somewhere. Still, no harm in trying. He watched constantly to see if he was following them and took some turns to shake him off. In the end, they had arrived and Dick hadn’t left until he saw her actually enter her apartment. He had to tell everyone about Marinette.
-------------------------------------------------
Marinette’s battery had been drained, both physically and socially after that week. Lila had pissed her off and she felt really bad for that guy she spewed on. Not like she would see him again. She’d spent all week working on the dress Tim helped her with to wear to her visit to the Wayne’s tomorrow. It had been her fastest completed project ever, though she had neglected eating and sleeping. Marinette had to agree with Tim. The fade into dark purple had been a nice addition and made it really stand out. Even Penny had thought so when she saw it on their chat about commissions. A hungover Jagged threw a ‘rock’n’roll’ over her shoulder and Marinette had felt a pang in her heart at the tenderness they treated each other with. Maybe, one day she could have that special bond with someone too. But she needed to focus on helping herself heal first. She could see the apologetic look written over Penny’s face to which she giggled at before declaring that she needed some rest.
Gina had forced her to rest before they visited the Wayne’s. Apparently today had been Thursday not Wednesday? The days had just blended into one. She had been intrigued to meet the rest of the family but she felt so weak.
‘Oh well,’ she thought. ‘Nothing a little tea can’t fix.’
Since she had found out she was pregnant, all her normal guilty pleasures had been off limits. No double espresso as bitter as her soul and no alcohol. She had to adapt to the restrictions because of her doctor. So, she whipped up a tea as strong as her go to coffee with way less caffeine. It had still her the kick she needed but it wasn’t as good as she would have liked. Still, she’d take what she could get. It still aggravated her when she would reach for a glass of white wine or coffee beans forgetting about the warnings. It aggravated her when she would call out to Tikki to transform forgetting she was no longer by her side. She would toy with her empty earlobes before letting her tears fall freely. Tikki had been the most loyal-kwami or human- and she still got taken. She wouldn’t pretend it hadn’t hurt but she had moved on. Some days she would remember she wasn’t with her and cry but on some she’d pretend everything was normal. Today was one of those days where she wore herself out from crying. Gina had caught her but even she knew Marinette needed space, assuming she was still upset about Adrien.
After a good half an hour of crying, she went to freshen up refusing to look like a puffer fish when she met everyone. Dabbling at her eyes, she applied light mascara and used concealer under her bags so she wouldn’t look as dead as Tim. She slipped into the dress, wearing it with pride. It had fit like a glove exemplifying her curves and showing her protruding baby bump. That had been the only downside as she wanted it to be a surprise. Though, nothing slipped past Alfred’s keen eyes. She’d been puzzled as to how she could style her hair before she settled on voluminous curls. It had required Gina’s help and a hell of a lot of hairspray but it had been worth it. She set her flower crown upon her head (delivered to her by Adrien) and placed one on Gina's. She’d been quite surprised when Gina told her she would have to go by herself but it wouldn’t be too bad. Alfred and Bruce were kind so she could just chat with them if the others were rude.
--------------------------------------------------
Damian was annoyed. Gina was late. Very late. And he’d been waiting for hours for her to arrive. A soft rap on the door sent him flying out of his seat as he scrambled to unlock the door. He’d expected Gina but on their doorstep was that angel from before.
“You,” he whispered. “Why are you here?” He didn’t like feeling confused so he schooled his features to be cold and cynical. Footsteps behind him caused him to instinctively slam the door shut.
“Sorry angel.” Not that she could hear him. Jason had stood behind him, watching him with curiosity.
“Demon spawn. Who was at the door?” Shit. He couldn’t exactly say how he knew her or his reputation would be tarnished. Everyone in his family knew Todd was the biggest gossiper and he would definitely spread the news. Like hell would he tell Todd. He’d take that secret to his grave.
"It was bArBarA. I mean Gordon. Yeah it was Gordon.” His voice may have cracked several times but it was a convincing lie, right?
“One, you almost never call people by their first names.” Jason said, eyes narrowing slightly. “Two your voice sounded awful. And you don’t stray from perfection. So, what’s your deal?
“Puberty?” He shrugged trying to conceal his panic.
“I’ll take your bullshit for now but you forgot Barbara’s already here. Let’s try this again. Who was at the door?”
“It was that harlot that Grayson suggested I try to court.
“Oh, that bitch. She’s all yours. Just keep her away from me. And Damian when dinner is over, I’ll find you and I’ll kill you. Make no mistake.” And with that, he threw a quick salute over his shoulder and strolled away. Damian had let out a sigh of relief, turning to walk away before he remembered who was still outside.
“Todd tell everyone I went to the bathroom.” He yelled shutting the front door before he could hear his reply. He descended down the stairs only to find her missing. He had begun mapping out all the locations of the manor when his eyes fell upon her. He felt the air forcibly be removed from his lungs and he remained unmoving. Awestruck. His heart squeezed as he watched her sniff his magnolias that he tended to. The way her dress pooled around her and the small but present baby bump had made him flush.
‘She truly was an angel.’ His eyes glanced at the flower crown entangled in her inky locks as the moonlit sky enhanced her celestial look. ‘She’s also much more than that though.’
“Take a picture. It’ll last longer.” She saw his mortified face. “You know getting a door slammed in your face isn’t the greatest first impression a family could give.”
“I’m sorry. But what are you doing here?”
“Expecting a warm welcome, not being left out in the cold, really anything but this. And I don’t even know you so...”
"You do."
"Excuse me?"
"You puked on me. I didn’t think you were going to ever see me again so you surprised me. I didn’t want to explain to anyone how we were acquainted.”
"I’m so sorry. It’s these stupid hormones. And that stupid Lila. Everything is just stupid."
"Lila Rossi? She is pretty stupid.” And then something changed. His face was softer and he hadn’t looked like he would bite her head off. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I’m waiting for my grandma but maybe tomorrow. I’m meeting a stuck-up client so I’m gonna need to vent. I’ll tell you the details later?”
“Fine with me.” She hobbled away. She had been patiently waiting by the doorstep, her soft rap probably inaudible due to all the chaos. He whipped out his spare key, unlocking the door. He hadn’t expected that soft click to prompt the attention of his whole family.
"Marinette-"
“Beanie?”
“Pixie pop?”
“Sunshine?”
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH DAMIAN?” they screamed, rushing forwards to envelop her in hugs.
“I let her in. You guys didn’t even hear her knocking. Wait, how do you all know Angel?”
His eyes nervously flitted to hers at the slip of his private nickname. He saw the flush on her cheeks as her mouth formed a small ‘o'. She couldn’t even look him in the eyes as the others taunted him for his cute pet name. He felt Dick ruffle his hair, which took a while to style, and Jason poke his sides. He felt Tim snicker and Barbara pinch his cheek. And he felt Marinette link their hands together in solidarity, enduring the teasing with him. They had been so embarrassed that they completely missed the arrival of Gina and the scheming look on Alfred’s face who dished her the gossip. They missed the dark but silent chuckle that left both Gina and Alfred as they decided to meddle in their kids failing love lives.
“What’d I miss, my little chicks? Because Mama’s home.”
NOTES (optional)
In the part labelled with tw here is what happens:
Creepy old 50 year old man hits on Marinette and feels her up. He asks her to come home with him but Dick helps her out and stops him. He tells them he would pay to watch them go at it and calls Marinette names. He eventually 'leaves' to his wife and kids.
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wordsfromthesol · 4 years
Text
Research Paper
Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader Summary:  You and Tim get assigned to complete a research paper together. The two of you end up spending way more time together than originally planned. Warnings:  Cursing and balls of fluff Word Count: 2k  A/N: I still have a few requests, they are coming I just haven’t had too much time to write new stuff...so I’ve been posting old stories I’ve already completed. 
The two of you sat at your dining room table, typing away at various research sites and scribbling down miscellaneous notes that could be helpful later. Finally, you looked up at your silent partner.
“So, why the rush to get this research paper done?”
“I’m busy. This is when I have time to do it.”
“Hm –” Before you could continue the thought, Tim cut you off.
“Look, I know you don’t want to be paired with the weird kid. Let’s just finish this and you don’t have to talk to me anymore.”
“Woah there Tim, relax. I don’t know anything about you. Especially not enough to qualify you as the weird kid.” You watched his face turn a slight shade of crimson. “Ya’know, there’s only 20 kids in this class. I bet if you actually talked to some of them you would make friends.” You got up from your seat and sauntered into the kitchen. “So weird kid, you want something to drink?”
“Oh…uhm…I’m fine.” You chuckled to yourself as he stuttered through his response.
“Well, if you insist on completing this in one night, I need some wine. Sure you don’t want a glass?”
“Okay…” Tim hesitantly responded.
**
The bottle was gone and you began to spiral down a YouTube worm hole. Clicking video after video, ending up on the ever popular topic of vigilantes. “Why do you think they do it?” You mumbled out loud, forgetting your research partner was still sitting across from you.
“Why does…” Tim tugged at your computer and glared at the screen before him. The video was paused on an image of Nightwing and Red Robin. He remembered that night. Mr. Freeze had armed some kind of mass freeze ray in the subway system. There were 5 casualties that night. His voice echoed throughout the room. “Sometimes the police aren’t enough. They have too much red tape or not enough training to handle certain criminals.”
“There’s just so many of them…”
“I think they need each other. Each one making sure the others don’t cross a line they can’t come back from. Keeping them responsible for their actions.”
“You think they aren’t just inherent do-gooders running around?”
“No. I don’t. This city is a toxin, no one born of it is inherently good. Everyone comes to a crossroads, some chose to go left and others, right. Once one goes to the left, you may never go back. However, those who chose to go right are always tempted to take a shortcut to the left. Even knowing they could never return.”
“Dang…you should write a book or something Tim.”
“Just a lot of experience I suppose?” You furrowed your brows and shot him a questioning look. “I was…uhm…rescued by Batman awhile back. Though not before my parents were poisoned.”
“I’m so sorry…” Your eyes cast to the ground as your hand reached across the table, landing atop of his. “I didn’t know.”
Tim brushed it off, “I didn’t expect you to know. I don’t advertise it. Anyways, how’s the ACTUAL research coming along.” You rolled your eyes and turned back towards your computer. 
**
Tim realized he hadn’t heard from you in awhile, so he glanced up from his computer. You were asleep at the table. His eyes shot over to the clock, 4:07am. “Shit.” He mumbled under his breath. Tim then sat there debating what to do for several minutes before pushing his chair back and taking you up in his arms. He laid you on your bed, draping the covers over you, before heading back into the dining room. Almost as soon as Tim sat back at his computer, his phone buzzed.
Don’t forget to get some sleep tonight, baby bird.
Dick had started sending reminders almost every night. Tim debated ignoring it, until more messages came in. Jason, Damian, Barbara, Stephanie, even Cassandra had texted him. Dick truly went all out tonight.
I swear if I have to listen to Dick complain about you not sleeping one more time, I will lose it. Go the fuck to sleep, replacement.
Drake, I was just informed to remind you to sleep tonight. May this serve as that reminder.
Dick just let me know you haven’t slept the past two nights. The body can only properly survive without three nights of sleep. Please sleep.
Timothy Jackson Drake. If you do not sleep tonight, I will be forced to take drastic action. One word: computer.
Don’t make me come knock you out.
Tim quickly sent a group message to everyone. Everyone calm down. It’s only been a day and a half. I’m going to sleep now. And Steph, don’t even look at my fucking computer. Tim sighed and threw himself on your couch, welcoming some much-needed sleep.
**
You woke up very confused. You glanced around your room, you definitely did not remember going to bed. You threw your legs over the side and noticed you were still completely dressed. What the fuck. Hesitantly, you opened your bedroom door. Your eyes darted around the room, noting the two computer still at the dining room table. Tip-toeing over to the living room, you saw Tim passed out on the couch, his phone buzzing beside him. You attempted to end the call, but it answered instead. Shit shit shit. You leapt as far from Tim as you could before whispering into the phone.
“Look I didn’t mean to answer this, but Tim is asleep…and he strikes me as the kind of person who doesn’t get much –” The man on the other end cut you off.
“I’m sorry, who is this? Why do you have my brother’s phone?”
“Oh…uhm…I’m in class with him. We were partnered on a research paper. He slept…is sleeping here.” You heard the man sigh before he continued.
“Do me a favor and try not to wake him, but tell him Dick called when he does get up.”
“Uh…sure…”
“Oh and put his phone on silent…actually I’ll just block the calls from here. Oh and thanks...I didn’t actually get your name.”
“Y/N.”
“Right, thanks again Y/N.”
You hung up the phone on the weirdest conversation ever and set it next to his computer. You snatched yours up and went back into your bedroom. Might as well get some work done while you waited for Tim to wake up. A few more hours passed and you heard footsteps coming from your living room. Thank god, I so need coffee. You threw open the door and saw Tim standing over his computer.
“Oh, uhm, sorry I slept here last night.”
You waved off the apology, “No problem. What time did we stop?”
“I noticed you were asleep at like 4 in the morning. So I…” Tim ran his finger through his hair, “I just figured the bed was more comfortable.” You smirked as you watched his face turn crimson. Stronger than he looks apparently. “Then I thought it was probably best not to leave that late…so I just crashed on the couch.”
“So we didn’t finish then? As in you better not have finished it without me.”
Tim held up his hands in defense. “No no, I stopped once I saw you were asleep.”
“Well…want coffee and some...” you glanced at the clock. It was nearly noon, “brunch I guess.”
“Oh, uh…if you’re offering? Then sure, I guess.”
“Great, then we can just finish up today.” You made your way to the kitchen, “Oh your brother called.”
Tim’s eyebrows furrowed, “which one?”
“You have multiple? Uh…Dick, I think he said.”
“Yeah, three of them. Do you mind if I call him back?”
You shook your head as you put on the coffee. Tim grabbed the phone from the table and went into your bathroom.
“Dick? Is something wrong?”
“Nah, Alfred just told me you hadn’t been back to the Manor yet. Wanted to make sure we didn’t need to send search and rescue.”
“I’m fine. Listen, do you mind if you cover my patrol tonight?”
“Oh, hot date with Y/N?”
“How do you – nevermind. No, we are finishing a project.”
“Hm, whatever you want to tell yourself Timmy. She seemed sweet on you though.”
“How – who even says that anymore? Are you 60 years old?”
“Awe, look who’s deflecting.”
“Bye Dick!” Tim screamed into the phone before hanging up on his brother.
**
After brunch was had, the two of you got back to work. However, it didn’t take long for you to get sidetracked.
“Alright, if I sit in this damn chair for another minute I’m going to have permanent back problems. I’m moving to the couch.” You huffed out, before scooping up your computer and plopping down sideways with your back against the armrest. Surprisingly, Tim joined you, propping is feet up on the coffee table. Once the two of you moved to the couch, no more work got done.
“So you close with your family?” You began the barrage of questions. People often called you out for being nosy, but you still couldn’t help it.
“Oh,” Tim glanced up from his computer. “Yeah, I suppose. Too close sometimes.”
“Eh, they wouldn’t be family otherwise. I gather you have a big one?”
“What are we playing 20 questions?”
“Just curious…”
Tim huffed, but began to answer your question anyways. “Yeah, I guess. Though it’s a family forged from bonds, not blood.”
“I’d say that’s the better kind. You chose to stay with and support them, as opposed to being guilted into it because they’re family.”
“Well that clearly struck a chord.”
You shrugged it off, “So three brothers. Blood or bond?”
“Well…a forced bond? Bruce adopted all of us, except Damian I guess.”
You continued to pose questions to your newfound friend, though you found getting most answers was like pulling teeth. Eventually, you made progress and after a few hours you closed your laptop, which had been long since asleep, and tossed it to the floor. “I vote take away and a movie.”
“But we haven’t finished.” Tim argued.
“And I don’t think we are going to tonight. Come on, we still have a month. Relax a little, we’re like 75% done anyways.”
“I –” Before he could protest further you pulled yourself off the couch and reached for your phone.
“I vote Thai.”
You heard a sigh come from the other end of the couch, “Sounds good.” A smile grazed your face as you placed the order and settled comfortably back on the couch. You turned on the movie and didn’t realize you were laying half on Tim until the doorbell roused you. This time it was your turn to don a shade of red. Thankfully, it was too dark for Tim to see.
**
The food was gone and the movie continued to play in the background, but the two of you were fast asleep laying against each other. That was, until Tim heard a knock on the window. He looked up to see the familiar costumes of his older brothers. He gently held you in place with one arm, while stretching to grab his phone with the other. Tim quickly typed a message.
I’m clearly alive. Leave me the fuck alone.
Tim saw Dick smirk through the window just before a bright white light shone through. Tim’s phone buzzed.
Look Timbers found someone to put up with him.
Of course Jason just had to send that in the group message. Tim typed out his response.
I’m muting this conversation until further notice. Also I’m never telling you guys where I am ever again.
That’s alright, I’m sure Y/N won’t mind telling me. We had a great conversation earlier.
Tim ignored the baited message Dick sent and threw his phone to the other side of the couch before settling back into the comfortable position at your side.  
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writingblock101 · 4 years
Text
Teasing (Jason Todd x Reader)
You know, I meant to write this sooner, then I found a really good fic series that I’m going to be posting the link for. 
Request for anon: Jason and Funny 1 (”What do I look like? A knight in shining armor?”) and Fluff 6 (”Do you have any fucking clue what you do to me?”) 
Warnings: it’s a bit sexual so do with that what you will
Tags: @idkmanicantenglish @mayahoelland2013 
Word Count: 1,700 words
Jason pins you against the wall, his warm hands sliding under your shirt as you knot your fingers into his hair, sucking a dark hickey under his jaw. He groans, one hand pulling you flush against him while the other braces itself against the wall. You smirk to yourself, feeling his fingers twitch against your side as he lets out a sigh. Right under Jason’s jaw has always been one of his sensitive spots which you are always sure to utilize. 
He pulls you into a searing kiss then breaks away for a moment to pull your shirt over your head and shower the newly exposed skin with kisses, love bites, and hickeys. You tilt your head back resting it against the wall with a blissful sigh and wrap both of your arms around Jason’s neck. He hikes one of your legs up against his waist and is about to pick you up when a knock at the door interrupts your activities. 
Jason barely acknowledges the knock, fully picking you up and bracing you against the wall, but you pause, opening your eyes and looking toward the door. 
“Jay, were we expecting anyone today?” 
“Doesn’t matter,” Jason mumbles against your skin, grinding his hips against yours. “They’ll come back,” He promises, kissing you again. 
You give in, melting into the kiss as Jason’s hands slide up your thighs. You run your hands down his defined shoulders. Someone knocks at the door again. This time, you both ignore it, until you hear a familiar voice. 
“Jase? Y/N?” Dick calls. 
“Oh shit,” You curse, breaking away from Jason. “What’s today?” 
Jason frowns but shifts his hands holding you to glance at his watch. 
“The 17th?” Realization dawns on him. “Oh fuck, I completely forgot we invited him over. We could--” 
“We can’t blow him off,” You roll your eyes. “That would be the third time you’ve canceled these plans.” 
“I had valid reasons!” Jason argues. 
“You did,” You admit. “Pop up missions with the Outlaws are valid. Sex isn’t.” 
“I beg to differ,” Jason grinds against you again, showing he is very hard. 
“Wow, sounds like your life is pretty hard,” You grin. 
Jason groans with an eye roll. 
“A dick joke? In a time like this? You wound me.” 
“I don’t see a better time for one,” You grin, giving Jason a quick kiss. “Now, let me down before your brother bothers our neighbors.” 
Jason groans again, mumbling something about Dick being a cockblock, but lets you down so you can put your shirt on. 
“You answer the door,” He grumbles. “I gotta go fix this,” He gestures to his crotch. “Since apparently you won’t help me in my time of need.” 
You roll your eyes with a grin, adjusting your shirt. 
“What do I look like? A knight in shining armor?” 
“No,” Jason murmurs to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He presses a kiss against your ear, making you shiver. “You look like--” 
Dick knocks at the door again. 
“Guys?” He calls hesitantly, interrupting Jason’s last chance to talk dirty to you. 
“Oh, cockblocked again,” You wince with a grin. “Go take care of your friend, horndog. I’ll talk to your brother.” 
Jason grumbles again, smacks your ass then heads back to the bedroom. You open the door to see a very puzzled looking Dick, frowning at his phone. 
“Hey, Dick,” You greet. “Sorry, we didn’t hear you. I was in the bedroom and Jason’s in the shower.” 
“It’s all good,” Dick grins. “I was worried I knocked on the wrong door.” 
“Come in,” You step aside, allowing Dick in. “How are you?” 
Dick shrugs, tossing his jacket on the couch. 
“Just got back from the Manor. I wanted to check on Damian and Duke.” 
“I’m sure they appreciate that, especially Duke.” 
While you haven’t gotten a chance to meet Duke personally, Jason speaks very highly of him. 
“Yeah, I’m not worried about him,” Dick sits on the couch opposite of you. “He’s smart and he’s not looking for Bruce to be his dad which I think will save him from a lot of problems. I’m more worried about Damian.” 
“What’s going on?” You frown. 
Dick sighs, running his hand through his hair. 
“Bruce has been stressed lately so he’s been really throwing himself into being Batman which is leaving Damian in the dust. He’s not being a parent to Damian and I’m afraid Dames is going to do something reckless.” 
“Did you try talking to Bruce?” You try, despite probably knowing the answer. 
Dick chuckles. 
“Went about as well as you think it did.”
“Huge blow out argument?” You wince. 
“Not quiet that bad, but enough for me to storm out of the Cave. I might take Dames back to Blud with me for a few days so Bruce can get his shit together.” 
“He’s going to need a lot longer than a few days to do that,” Jason says as he walks into the living room, his hair wet. 
You notice Dick eyeing the hickey you left under Jason’s jaw, but he doesn’t say anything, probably connecting the dots on the real reason you and Jason didn’t answer the door. 
Dick chuckles. 
“Fair. You heard from Cass recently?” 
Jason shrugs, sitting next to you, his arm stretched across the back of the couch. 
“She sends me selfies. She seems to be enjoying Hong Kong, but I think she misses us.” 
Dick smiles fondly. 
“Yeah, I miss her too, but I’m sure she and Steph are living it up.” 
“Of course they are,” Jason rolls his eyes. “How could they not?” 
The three of you continue catching up, Dick telling you about the craziness in Bludhaven while Jason tells Dick about the Outlaws. Eventually, Dick produces the original reason he and Jason made plans-- Dick was outraged to learn that Jason has never seen Fight Club. Once getting some movie snacks and resettling on the couch, you start the movie, curled up against Jason’s side. 
While you enjoy Fight Club, you’ve seen this movie before and instead get distracted by another idea. You casually spread a blanket over your and Jason’s laps, and glance over at Dick who’s on the opposite couch, engrossed in the movie. Perfect. 
You shift against Jason’s chest, your arm casually laying on his thigh, your hand dangling in dangerous territory. He doesn’t seem to notice, or mind. Instead, he curls his arm tighter around your shoulders, pulling you close. It’s when you causally brush your hand over his crotch that Jason tense for a moment. He relaxes again, probably chalking it up to an accident. 
You move again, this time, pressing against him with more purpose, but keeping it brief. Jason quirks an eyebrow, looking down to give you a look, but you smile innocently, and redirect your attention to the movie. You wait a minute, then reach under the blanket and cup Jason through his sweatpants, rubbing your palm against his hardening dick. 
Jason grabs your wrist under the blanket. 
“You are in very dangerous territory,” He murmurs lowly to you, sending chills down your spine. 
You grin mischievously then lean up and press a soft kiss to Jason’s jaw. His grip on your wrist and shoulder momentarily tighten then he shifts his hand so that he’s holding your hand, stopping you from your teasing antics. 
You smile victoriously to yourself, leaning against Jason again. While it’s fun to tease Jason, with Dick being here, it’s a very fine line of teasing Jason versus making him uncomfortable. Some couples might go for the full-on hand-job under the blankets with a relative in the room; however, just as you wouldn’t be okay with Jason doing anything too risky with someone else in the room, you’re not going to give him a hand-job with his brother is sitting on the opposite couch. All your teasing stays above the clothes. 
A few more minutes of the movie goes by before you decide you to try your luck in a different form. You shift against Jason again, this time, wiggling your way into his lap. He adapts easily, wrapping his arms around your waist, and rests his chin on your shoulder. 
You lay back against him, happy to let him hold you. In this position, you’re getting the ultimate double whammy. While you are very happy to be close to Jason and shower him with affection, you know every time you shift, you press against his dick, and you know your efforts are not going unnoticed. 
You turn, pressing a kiss to his cheek and lightly scrape your nails up and down his arms. As you shift, Jason’s arms tighten around your waist momentarily. You continue your antics throughout the movie, occasionally moving to kiss Jason’s cheek or neck, or shifting down against him. By the end of the movie, you can feel that he is fully hard. 
“Did you like it?” Dick asks, glancing over at you two once the movie credits start rolling. 
He hasn’t seemed to notice you doing anything unusual which was your intent. 
“It was good,” Jason nods. “I really liked it.” 
Dick grins then stands up, stretching dramatically. 
“Well, I’ve gotta get back to Bludhaven and I’m sure you two want to resume your previous activity from before I got here,” He grins at you and Jason, who’s gone very red. 
“W-what?!” He sputters. 
Dick points at his own neck. 
“Yeah, the hickey isn’t discrete there, dude.” 
Jason glares at you who laughs with a shrug. 
“Sorry, babe,” You grin, not sounding sorry at all.
“Your shower story wasn’t very plausible either,” Dick shrugs while Jason looks like he wants to sink through the couch. 
“Can we talk about something else?” He groans, making Dick laugh. 
“I won’t torture you anymore, Little Wing,” Dick ruffles Jason’s hair who swats at him. “Thanks for letting me hang out. Bye guys!” 
“Bye Dick!” You call to him, then right as the door shuts, Jason has you on your back, pinned to the couch with your hands trapped above your head. 
He hovers above you, using his hips to hold yours in place. 
“Do you have any fucking clue what you do to me?” He murmurs, grinding against you. 
“I can take I guess, but I’d prefer you to show me,” You grin. 
“Gladly,” Jason promises, then dips his head for a long kiss. 
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