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#like my dad is known as the dog whisperer. he’s always raised really good dogs
diazsdimples · 3 months
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WIP Wednesday!!
Hello! I've got a two snippets from Single Dads AU today, both from Christopher and Carrie's first meeting, and when Carrie gets in trouble for defending Christopher. Hope you enjoy!!
Tagged by @rainbow-nerdss @loserdiaz @hippolotamus and @daffi-990 please go read their snippets right now!!
(Snippets under the cut to save your dash)
First meeting:
“Everyone, this is Christopher, he’s a new student starting out today. It would be really nice if someone could offer a space next to them for him to sit and show him around the school. Any volunteers?” Carrie looks around the class and notes, with annoyance, that no one’s putting their hands up. Some of the kids are whispering behind their hands and giggling, others aren’t even looking at Christopher. Carrie’s got a spare seat next to her and suddenly her Dad’s words are floating through her head. “We’ve always gotta look after the little guys, Carrie. It’s our job to protect people that need it.” Carrie’s not sure if Christopher needs protecting but she’s pretty sure he needs a friend right now so she puffs out her chest, thrusts her hand in the air and says, “Christopher can sit with me, Mrs. Dixon!” Carrie watches as Christopher just about melts with relief and Mrs. Dixon shoots her a grateful smile. Mrs. Dixon guides Christopher over to Cassie’s table and helps him into the chair, before patting Carrie fondly on the head. “You’re a good girl, Carrie, your Dad will be proud of you.” Carrie sits up a little straighter and grins. Dad will be proud, Christopher gets a friend, there’s no downside to this in her eyes. She turns to Christopher and smiles sweetly at him. “Your crutches look cool; I didn’t know they made them in blue!” Christopher looks at her, almost surprised, as if he can’t quite believe that she’s talking to him before smiling shyly. “My Daddy picked them out, he says they’re blue like Superman cause I’m his Superman” he replies, quietly and Carrie beams at him. “I love Superman! My Daddy got me to watch all the movies, but he says Marvel is better. I don’t really like superheroes, but Daddy does so I watch them to make him happy.” Just like that, Christopher and Carrie are fast friends, chatting away as though they’ve known each other for years.
Carrie stands up for Chris:
It's after lunch that it all goes a bit pear shaped. Carrie and Christopher are sitting at their table, chatting about dogs (Christopher want to know if dogs know they’re dogs. Carrie thinks they probably don’t), when Jordan, Carrie’s least favourite person, sidles up to their table with a smug grin. “Making friends with the freaks Carrie?” he asks, kicking one of Christopher’s crutches over so it clatters noisily to the ground. Christopher shrinks back in his chair, but Carrie merely glares at Jordan. “Go away, no one wants you here,” she retorts snarkily. Jordan laughs. “No, no one wants him here,” he says, his face twisting into a mean sneer. “We don’t like freaks in our class, go back to Texas, weirdo.” Carrie watches as Christopher’s face crumples and it’s like a fire is light in her belly, burning hot and angry and slowly bubbles to the surface. “I said go away Jordan!” she says, raising her voice. Jordan arches an eyebrow. “You’re a freak for wanting to play with him too, Carrie.” The anger in Carrie’s stomach burns hotter and hotter and she stands up, knocking her chair over. “Yeah well you’re – you’re a –“ There’s a million things she could call Jordan right now. Meanie?  Butthead? She’s heard Daddy say some bad words too that she could use. Like when he was really mad after he got off the phone with Uncle Doug a couple of years ago and she’d heard him call Uncle Doug a “fuckface”. Carrie really liked that one but when she’d called Lily a fuckface for taking her doll, Daddy had been really mad and asked her where she’d heard that word. He’d turned very pink and made Carrie never to call anyone that again. He'd also called Uncle Chimney a really naughty word rhyming with “runt” that Carrie can’t quite remember, so she doesn’t use that one either. She uses the worst, naughtiest word she can think of that describes Jordan perfectly. “You’re an asshole, Jordan!” she explodes, and the class goes completely silent. Jordan’s standing there, jaw hanging open with surprise, and Christopher is looking at her almost reverentially, his eyes glowing. She feels a rush of pride until…. “Carrie Buckley, come here this instant!!” Damn.
(No pressure) tagging @theotherbuckley @malewifediaz @thewolvesof1998 @jesuisici33 @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @steadfastsaturnsrings @housewifebuck @disasterbuckdiaz @callmenewbie @cal-daisies-and-briars @wildlife4life @spotsandsocks @smilingbuckley @fortheloveofbuddie @nmcggg @wikiangela @fruitandbubbles @watchyourbuck @fionaswhvre @evanbegins @monsterrae1
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mars-ipan · 3 years
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it’s so weird to me when people make fun of rat bc like... yeah little dogs are just Like That. they’re perfectly happy though. it looks like there is not a single thought behind their eyes yet they are crafting a plan to manipulate you into treating them like royalty. they lull you into a false sense of security with their goofy idiocy but in reality? they fluently understand english. they will break you. you will spoil them
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ladyfallonavenger · 3 years
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Just Like Dad
Bucky x Reader
Word count: 2.4k
Warnings: Grief, angst, fluff, smut, single parenting, child trauma, some abusive behaviour and sexual harassment, loss and reunions.
Summary: The Reader loses Bucky in the snap and life presents a whole new challenge.
Prompt: That's not how this works! That's not how any of this works!
This is not beta read. All mistakes are my own. This is part of a challenge too. Please feel free to like, reblog and/or comment. Also I'm thinking of doing a second part, your input would be welcome on this. I hope you enjoy it.
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Writhing underneath him while clutching at the cool cotton sheets, Y/N repeated his name like a mantra. His pelvis consistently ricocheting as he brought her closer to climax. His lips latched onto her neck moving across her collar bone and marking her with each ministration.
"Sweetheart I'm almost there" he breathed. Looking her in the eye, he was met with adoration, love and primal lust. Bucky felt her walls constricting as she cried out his name in unbridled passion only to be met by a ferocious roar as they both came, his body collapsing on hers (though he was careful not to hurt her). The heavy musky scent of sweat and sex filled the room as their laboured breaths reverberated around it. Bucky lifted his head to look at Y/N, a lazy smile sweeping across his face.
"I love you doll" he whispered. She couldn’t help but return the smile.
"I love you too Bucky, do I really have to leave you tomorrow?" she asked, her voice tinged with sadness. He nodded reluctantly while sucking in a breath of regret.
"T'challa, Okoye and Shuri all think it would be best for your safety. It won't be forever, just until the battle is over" he promised with a kiss. Y/N’s face contorted in an expression of concern.
"I wish you didn’t have to fight Buck, I worry about you" she sighed. Bucky’s heart felt like it was bursting with love for this woman who cared so much for his well-being.
"I'll come back to you Sweetheart, I promise. But here," he slid his dog tags off and put them around her neck, "just so you know that I'm coming back" he spoke softly as they wrapped their arms around each other. Neither wanting to let go.
The first year, after that battle, had been really tough. Though Y/N was given a home at the compound, it wasn't convenient for her to stay - not with a child due to be born. With Nat and Steve’s help she found the perfect place to live and slowly began to rebuild her life. Steve, Nat, Tony and Pepper would all check in with her but as time moved on contact lessened.
The second and third year passed quickly. The anniversary of 'The Snap' marked poignantly with a fireworks display as a show of respect, but it didn't change the void Y/N felt without Bucky there. He was missing out on so much of his daughter's life and little Georgina was missing out on her father's presence. She looked so much like him, the brown hair, the ocean eyes and the stubborn lock of the jaw. She could pull the grumpy faces with ease. Every night Y/N would shed tears for him. She didn’t want to believe that he was gone forever and clutched the dog tags holding them to her heart.
In the fourth year Nat and Steve began to visit more frequently and Y/N would stay overnight in the compound with Georgina more frequently as she introduced her to family. Sometimes Georgina would stay over on her own with Nat and Steve while they gave Y/N time to herself. She even met Okoye via holographic imaging and she told her stories of how her dad became known to Wakanda as the White Wolf.
Y/N smiled in the doorway as she observed her daughter and listened to Okoye. She didn’t realise Steve was behind her.
"You alright?" he asked startling her. She turned to look at him, nodding with an expression that cried the opposite.
Steve took her to the room next door. Y/N sat on the sofa and let out a huff. He sat next to her and she shifted to look at him. The pain in her eyes told him everything he needed to know. His expression was that of something she didn't need to see.
"I can't Steve, I just can't" she spoke as she toyed with the dog tags that she still wore.
"It's been four years Y/N" his tone like that of the start of a lecture.
"You think I don't know that Steve?" she asked incredulously.
"That’s not what I meant" he sighed.
"No of course not, you just think I should move on, leave what he and I had in the past. Well I can't Steve. I have Georgina to think of" Y/N angrily retorted, tears threatening her eyes.
"I didn't mean it like that. I just think that maybe you need to look forward, for Georgina's sake" he expressed. Y/N scoffed as she stood up and wiped the tears away as she turned to look at Steve. There was fire in her eyes.
"Don't you dare pretend that this is about her. You're supposed to be Bucky’s best friend, but where were you after Georgina was born huh? Those first two years. I did them on my own without your 'concern' so don't tell me this is about her" Y/N was so angry she was shaking. Steve nodded standing up. He ran his hand over his jaw.
"You're right. You called, sent pictures and I didn't respond. That's on me" he conceded. He placed his hands on his hips.
"What about your needs?" he gingerly moved towards her. She shook her head knowing where this was leading.
"My only need right now is to provide for Georgina and make sure she knows everything possible about how wonderful her dad is and I say is because I can't just leave him as a memory to fade away" her voice cracking slightly as she made her stance clear. Steve threw her a frustrated look.
"Are you going to tell her about how 'wonderful' he was in his murderous past with Hydra and celebrate each kill?" his tone was dark. Y/N slapped him so hard, the room echoed the pop.
"Fuck you Steve!" she hissed leaving the room to collect Georgina.
Two weeks later Steve decided to try and make amends. It was a little one sided but he wanted to try. He waited on the steps outside their apartment block.
"Uncle Stebe!!!" Georgina squealed pulling out of Y/N's hand to rush to him. He picked her up as she threw her arms around his neck. Her little pig tails bounced with vigour as she giggled while he tickled her.
"Now is my favourite little soldier being good for her mom?" he asked as Y/N reached them
"I'm always good for mommy" she gave a cheeky toothy grin.
"Steve" Y/N acknowledged with a nod. Steve returned the motion as Y/N opened the door and let them into the building. They walked up to the first floor listening to Georgina babble and not speaking to each other. Y/N let them into the apartment. Steve set Georgina down and Y/N helped her with her coat. Georgina ran off into her room excitedly while Steve followed Y/N into the kitchen. His eyes were trained on her, following every move as she put the kettle on to make coffee. Leaning against the counter, arms folded, she turned to look at Steve.
"I'm sorry," he looked down at his feet, there was no response from her. "I should never had said anything like that. Buck couldn't help what happened with Hydra" he admitted quietly.
"No, you shouldn't. She knows everything she can understand including how daddy was captured by bad men, they gave him a new arm because his was hurt but then they hurt his brain forcing him to do bad things" Steve looked at her with shame in his eyes as he nodded. He stepped closer to her.
"I just don't want you to be alone ok. I keep telling my help group to move on" he expressed.
"I get that OK, but I'm fine. Georgina is fine"
"Georgina needs a father who is here, not the memory of what could've been" his voice rises slightly as Y/N’s eyes widen at him.
"This isn't about me at all is it, it's about you. You're trying to absolve your own guilt. Well guess what Steve, we aren't your project" Y/N shook her head as she grabbed the milk from the fridge. Steve stepped up behind her trapping her between him and the fridge as she turned around.
"It's not like that ok," his tone now husky, "I'm fed up being lonely. Aren't you? We could give Georgina the family she deserves. I could give you the happy ending you deserve" he pressed. Y/N pushed him aside.
"I think you need to leave. There are so many things wrong with what you said. To have any of that would mean I have to have feelings for you. But I don't ok. As a friend I care but I don't love and I don't need you telling me how to raise my child especially when she's not yours" her anger was palpable.
"I can't believe even now he's still doing it," Steve rolled his eyes. The fury in them now obvious, "Saint Bucky, he can do no wrong even though he has done more shit than most of us. Yet even now someone prefers him over me like I'm not good enough, well I'm sick of it!" he shouted at Y/N. He didn't realise Georgina had grabbed her mom's cell phone in the living room and pressed the buttons her mom had taught her in an emergency. She pressed the speed dial number and waited.
"Y/N what's up?" Nat asked.
"Auntie Nat" Georgina whispered in tears.
"Geena what's up sweetheart, tell me honey" she was worried hearing the child's scared whimpers.
"Uncle Stebe is shouting at Mommy, she's crying. I'm scared" she spoke with a lisp. Nat frowned.
"Ok sweetheart are you at home?" she quizzed leaving the compound.
"Yes" she sniffled.
"Stay in your room ok, I'm coming over" she promised. Georgina ran back to her room and hid under her blankets crying and hoping it would all stop.
After that interaction, Nat thought it was best if she went to visit Y/N rather than her visit the compound. Nat had been furious with Steve when she found out what happened, it got worse when he refused to apologise under the principles of it all feeling he had a right and although Nat had got there before he could do what he wanted, the damage had been done. Georgina was terrified of Steve and Y/N no longer wanted any contact with him. Though furious, Nat had quickly put it on the back-burner towards the end of the year when the sudden emergence of Scott Lang offered the hope of bringing people back from the snap.
The reverse of 'The Snap' was chaotic. Pepper had dropped Morgan off to Y/N so that Georgina and Morgan had sleepover while Pepper could help the fight. Y/N hugged Pepper tight wishing her all the best. Y/N had already been devastated by the loss of Nat, Bruce had phoned her to let her know. However she needed to be strong and now with Morgan staying over, she had to be there for the girls and not let on what was really happening. She tried to remain focused building a pillow fort with the girls and watching Disney programmes with them while snacking on fruit salad and crisps. The girls were happy enough and wore themselves out with excitement. Y/N put them to bed and tidied up. Suddenly aware of noise and commotion outside, she hurriedly put the cushions back and looked out of the window. She couldn’t believe her eyes as people started materialising out of nowhere in the same fashion that people started disappearing. Placing a hand over her mouth, she fought back tears, she was just hoping she'd have him back. Two hours later there was a knock on the door, a tearful Happy had sorrow in his eyes, Pepper had sent him to collect Morgan. Y/N offered a hug with condolences as she welcomed him in. Morgan was still asleep as Y/N passed her to Happy and watched him leave. Losing Tony on top of losing Nat was too painful to bear. She went back to Georgina's room and snuggled up to her on the bed. Her sorrow soothed by the sound of her daughter sleeping peacefully.
Rays of sun beaming through the curtains woke Y/N up. She hadn’t been asleep for long. Careful not to wake her daughter up; she padded to the kitchen, made some coffee and switched the radio on. The news was reporting people returning from the snap. She had to turn it back off again. She couldn’t dare have her hopes up. A knock at the door caught her attention. As she opened the door she gasped, eyes filling with tears as he stood before her.
"Hey doll" he whispered with a shy smile. She flung her arms around his neck as he held her, lifting her up, he carried her into the apartment. Both happily sobbing, she looked at him again as he closed the door with his foot and carried her to the sofa. He sat down and held her too him draped across his lap. Neither said anything at first. They just gazed into each other’s eyes. She ran her hand down his cheek slowly, her thumb stroking the scruff.
"I've missed you so much but I never gave up hope that one day we'd see you again" she muttered as she showed him the tags. Religiously she had worn them and somehow he knew.
"I'm sorry I was gone for so long, I can't even explain it or what it felt like. I just wanted to feel like I was home" he explained pressing his lips lightly to hers, then her nose and her forehead. Something he always used to do.
"Well you have a home here, with us, if you want" she smiled softly as Bucky rested his forehead to hers.
"Us? Do you have a pet or something?" he chuckled. Y/N stood up and pulled Bucky up with her. Taking his hand in hers she pressed her fingers to her lips and led him to one of the other rooms where the door was open enough to walk in without making noise. They slipped in quietly and Bucky’s jaw dropped. She was tiny compared to him, her brown hair framing her face perfectly. He felt like he was looking at Rebecca all over again. A lump formed in his throat as he looked to Y/N. She nodded in confirmation as he wrapped his arms around Y/N. Tears threatening his eyes again.
"She's beautiful, perfect even" he whispered in Y/N’s ear. They left the room as quietly as they entered it and Y/N made a beeline for the kitchen.
Putting bread in the toaster, she grabbed the eggs and bacon from the fridge. He sat at the counter as he picked up Y/N’s coffee sipping some of it and humming at the taste.
"When did you discover you were pregnant?" he asked.
"Two months after our last night together" she replied as she put the bacon in the oven. She made her way over to him and let him pull her to his lap, he held the mug to her lips as she sipped the coffee. She draped her arms around his neck and watched him set the mug down.
"Does she know who I am, like did you..."
"She knows all about you, the good and the bad and she still loves you. Every night she says goodnight to a picture of you" Y/N noticed Bucky trying to process how a child could love him after everything. Suddenly his face changed as though remembering something else, his face contorted with a mixture of shame and heartache. "Buck, what's up? Talk to me" she coaxed. His eyes were apologetic.
"That’s not how this works. That's not how any of this works" his voice was almost desperate, "if my parents and grandparents were here they'd kill me" he expressed. He realised Y/N was looking at him in confusion.
"What do you mean?" Y/N was not sure where this was headed.
"Doll, I know these are modern times but I'm still that guy from the 1940s. My family always insisted on the Barnes men doing things right. Marriage then children. I knocked you up and disappeared. I'm as bad as Tommy Appleby from number 32. He did that to a dame when I was 16. When I laughed, my grandfather slapped me around the back of my head, sat me down with my dad and gave me the talk on how to treat a dame" he explained. Y/N smiled softly at him and cupped his face in her hands.
"This wasn't your fault. You would've been here if the snap didn't happen. You can't help that. But you're here now. I know it might be intimidating but you'll be a fantastic father" Y/N assured. He kissed her deeply, he wanted to assure her he was going nowhere.
"Daddy?" a small shrill voice interrupted them. Y/N and Bucky looked towards the direction of the voice, his eyes widened in shock as he was lost for words. Georgina was standing there staring at him with an excited smile on her face like all Christmases had come at once.
@sunflowerxbarnes
Part 2
@smokeybluebrooke-lyn
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t-o-m-hollands · 3 years
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Summery: You and Tom bet on who will touch the other first after he comes home from filming. Both refusing to give in you resort to some teasing measures to get the other one to break.
Pairing; Tom + female reader.
Themes: Light-hearted, lots of teasing. Established relationship. Fluff. Cocky Tom. Cocky reader too, let’s face it. They are both stubborn idiots. Lots of horniness all around. To be honest, very little plot and mostly smut. Bit of fluff as well though. 
Warnings: Unprotected sex in established relationship. Masturbation. This work is strictly +18.
A/N: Not beta-read, I’m wine drunk and wrote this in like 2,5 hours so it is what it is. 
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It was such a stupid fucking bet and he wish he never agreed to it. It is all your fault, he decides, as he watches you bend over into downward dog, your breathing rhythmic and even as you stretch your beautiful body. He tries to look away from your ass, honestly he does, but you’re wearing those light grey yoga pants that practically has him drooling and the fabric is hugging your body so perfectly it would be a crime to look away. 
Plus, he’s pretty sure that’s the whole point of you doing this, practicing yoga in the living room right in front of him as he’s supposed to be working. The whole point is to have him staring, so he doesn’t feel too bad about it. 
It had all started the week before he was set to return from filming. He had teased you (and sure, in retrospect that was a terrible idea and he should have known better) had said that you would jump him the first chance you got, that he probably wouldn’t even get through the door before you had him out of his jeans. You had retaliated with an accusation that he would be the one all over you and obviously he had to deny that.
It had spiraled, neither one of you willing to give in and admit defeat and now here you are; a full day after his return and he hasn’t as much as hugged you. 
Because whoever touches the other first loses the bet. 
And now here you are, in front of him; wearing skin tight yoga pants and bending over. 
A part of him, the midsection of his body to be precise, wants to just give in; to hand you the victory - fuck his pride. But the part of him, the rational part he likes to think, that has him bashing up golf clubs every time his dad beats him in a golf round; refuses to give in.
So what if he hasn’t seen you, hasn’t felt your body in over three months? Or that he now has your magnificent ass right in his face as he’s trying to concentrate on his dull emails. So what? He’s not faced by that, he’s a man of the world after all. 
You lean forwards again until you’re on the ground, turn to your back and start to slowly but steadily push your hips up and down, in what Tom can only assume, is referred to as the ghost fucking position. 
“Aren’t you supposed to answer emails?” You ask and he doesn’t even need to look at your face to know that you have a smug smile on your face.
“I am” he mutters, looking away from your body on the floor and back to his phone screen. 
You laugh, and he pretends not to hear it, while you pretend that the visible hard-on he’s sporting doesn't make you want to climb into his lap and give in to both of your temptations. 
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The bet was stupid and totally his idea.
Tom comes out of the shower, drops of water still pouring from his wet hair onto his sculpted chest. The only thing he’s wearing is the white towel wrapped around his waist and the silver Rolex on his wrist. Seeing you standing in the kitchen and slicing tomatoes he sends you his widest smile. 
And you thought you were playing unfair with the yoga. 
He sits down by the bartop, all bare chested and golden. “Anything I can help with?” he asks as you place the tomatoes in the salad bowl. “A change of music perhaps?”
You throw a left over piece of tomato at him and it hits him square in the chest. He just smiles wider, completely unfaced. “Leave my dinner playlist alone, yeah?” You tell him, resisting the urge to give him the finger. 
“So tense” he snickers and leans his head to the side, “I know what could help you relax.”
“Throwing more tomatoes at you? Because we need them in the salad, Thomas.”
He stands up and moves around the kitchen island until he’s behind you, careful as not to touch, framing you against the bench with his strong arms on either side of your body. You can smell him, fresh out of the shower, feel the warm radiate from his body; it is as he’s already holding you. He’s so close, it’s like every cell in your body is reaching out for him. 
And it’s been so long. 
Three months of twisting and turning alone in bed, of only your own hands as company and him on the phone screen as he encourages you; tells you how goddamn gorgeous you look fucking yourself for him. Three months of only seeing him on the phone; not being able to touch him and feel him for yourself, to taste his skin. To just see him spill all over his own hand instead of being there, catching it all with your tongue. 
But it will have to wait a little while longer, because although you might love him, and the way he makes you feel, there’s no way you’re giving in just yet. 
Slowly turning around, carefully as not to touch him, you reach for the bottle. “You can open this, since you wanted to help” you say and hand him the wine, “that would help me relax.”
He smiles, unbothered by his failed attempt at luring you to defeat, and steps back. You stir the pasta sauce, trying not to look at his bare chest as he’s leaning over the kitchen counter, looking for something. Finally he finds the corkscrew and sits back again at the bar table. He gets to work with opening the bottle, his strong veined hand wrapped around the throat of the bottle, as the other inserts the screw. His brow is furrowed in concentration and he’s biting his lip. Around his wrist the Rolex watch reflects in the light. Uncorking the bottle he pours blood red liquid into two wine glasses and hands you one before taking a sip from his own, brown eyes looking at you from over the rim of his glass. 
“Put a fucking shirt on, Thomas” you mutter, going back to chopping vegetables.
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The song and dance of torturing each other continues for the following two days. What goes on between you can only be described as a red-hot war. 
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“Oh for fuck sake!” Tom’s voice booms over the living room. 
“Too direct?” You ask, eyebrow raised.
“No, no not at all” he answers, voice dripping with sarcasm, “no please, keep deep-throating the banana, it’s incredibly subtle.”
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Slowly he wakes, blinking into the dark night. The alarm clock on his bedside table tells him that it’s just after 2 am and for a few long seconds he stares at it.
A rustling of sheets beside him in bed and it hits him. He’s home, home in his own bed with you laying next to him, as it should always be. Except that things aren’t the way it should be. 
Because of that stupid goddamn bet. 
The sheets rustle again and he wonders if you are awake as well. But then he hears it; a soft moan. 
Turning over in bed at lighting speed he stares down at you. “Are you fucking touching yourself?” He asks, heatedly. 
Your answer is another soft moan as you look up at him, pupils blown wide and lips parted. Tearing of the duvet he looks down at your naked body, at you hand, covered in slick, moving over your clit.
Fuck. 
He moves over, leans over you; his legs on either side of yours and his arm on each side of your face, carefully making sure that he isn’t touching you. A slight catch of breath is all the sign you give of having been surprised, your hand keeping it’s gentle pace. 
“What are you thinking about?” He asks, voice low in the quiet room. 
“You” is your breathless reply, “you touching me.”
“Think this is how I would touch you?” He asks, snickering. He’s holding his body over you, looking into your lust-filled eyes. “I’d go much slower at first, tease you. Slowly move around your clit until your hips are bucking up and you're begging me for more”.
He moves his head, so that his lips are almost touching yours. Almost. 
“You’re so good at begging after all” he murmurs against your lips, moving his boxer clad hips so that they almost touch you and you groan, your face telling of vexation and volatile bliss. But you do as he says, follow his instruction with the movement of your hand. 
“Good girl” he whispers softly against your lips. 
“Then I’d slide one fingers inside that wet cunt, still slow; still teasing.” 
You whine, but you do as he says. Slowly you move one finger in and out of yourself, as the other hand is still circling your clit. “Need more” you moan but he just smiles.
“Such a greedy little thing, aren’t you?” He teases with a devilish grin, tilting his head to the side, looking down at you with sparkling eyes. “But your hands are smaller than mine, so maybe you should add another finger.” 
You insert your middle finger as well; and moan. “Faster” you beg, but he shakes his head and so a string of curses fall out your mouth and all he can do is smile at it. 
“That filthy fucking mouth of yours” me mutters. 
“Well if you shove your dick into it instead then this stupid fucking bet will be over and we’ll both get off.”
“You know, I’ve really missed your fantastic sense of humor while I’ve been away” he answers dryly, but with a smile. 
“Tom” you whine. “I need more.”
He wants to kiss you so badly, to press his lips against yours and taste you; to remove his boxers and sink into you in one swift movement until your hoarse and wanton whines turn into satisfied moans, soft and sweet like honey. 
“Go on then, darling” he says, voice huskier than usual in the dark night. “Speed up for me.”
You do, your body hungry for satisfaction, hunting your orgasm with determent, sharp movements. 
“Fuck,” he swears, “fuck you’re soaked.” He looks down at your wet slit, your rapidly moving fingers, your hips bucking up to meet your hand. Looking back into your wild eyes he groans, his mouth still dangerously close to yours.
“The whole room smells of you” he moans, and it’s true. The scent of your arousal mixes with the scent of your perfumed skin and this is the closest he’s been so far to falter; to give in to temptation.
Your head is thrown back against the pillows, throat exposed, soft moans escaping freely. He wants to touch you everywhere, feel the softness of your skin with his rough hands, his wet mouth, his teeth. He’s breathing hard and he hasn’t even been touched, but he feels the want of touching you in his bones.
He wants to wrap his lips around your hardened nipples. To suck, bite, lick and kiss them until you fall over the edge. 
“So fucking beautiful” he breathes out. Even if he had wanted to he wouldn't have been able to look away from you. “But it’s my hand your fucking, remember? Think I’d wouldn’t fuck you harder than that?”
And god, he wish it was his hand you were fucking, wish he could feel you come; hot and wet and pulsing around his fingers. Instead he is left to watch. Watch as the movements of your hand speeds up until fucking yourself with a carnal kind of need, until you fall apart at the seams; luscious bliss spreading over your features, and your tense body relaxes until you soften against the mattress;  loose limbed and starry eyed. 
And he is left to take care of the his erection all on his own.
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A thin layer of sweat is covering his chest and his muscles are taut as he forces his arms to carry his weight into another push-up. 
“Thirty-six” he groans out, his voice strained and deep from the physical effort, curls of brown hair falling over his face as he lowers himself to the ground again. “Thirty-seven.”
You couldn’t look away even if you tried, your eyes fixed on the muscles of his back, and the way they move as he moves. 
You feel agitated and frantic and in that moment you want nothing more than to lay down beneath him; look up at him as move above you with swift, powerful moments. It’s beyond reason, the carnal tug inside you as you watch him and it is absolutely maddening that he hasn’t given in yet to his desire; because you know he desires you, have seen it in his dark eyes, always following you around the room, over the last few days. 
But you are not going to be the first one to give in. 
“Forty-two” he moans out, and the sound of his heavy breathing and deep groans vibrate somewhere far inside you.
You’re not. 
You just need a change of tactic, that’s all.
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The pub is packed tonight, but the more secluded pool area section is scarce of people. Tom sips on his beer, scrolling through instagram; waiting for you, as the speakers blast out ‘Galway Girl’ for what feels like the hundredth time since he came in. He’s been visiting a friend while you’ve been at work, having decided this morning to meet up at the pub after for a meal and a game of pool. 
A text pops up on the screen, beside your picture. It simply says ‘Look up’. 
He does. And fuck. 
Oh, fuck no. 
Oh, for all that is holy, surely you wouldn’t be that cruel to him.
Not the white shorts.
Not the white shorts you had worn last summer, the ones you know very well turns him on like nothing else. The ones you had worn that time when you had driven down to the beach on bonfire night; the time when you pulled him aside from the rest of the company and he had ended up fucking you against the birch wood tree just some meters away from all your friends, your shorts around your ankles and your nails digging into his back as you tried to bite back you moans.
Surely you wouldn’t be this cruel to him, because he’s pretty sure he’s going to die. He hasn’t had sex in over three months and you show up looking like this  and he’s pretty sure he’s going to die. 
He’s just not sure about whether this is going to be heaven
or hell. 
He watches you as you walk through the pub with long confident strides, the goddamn heels you're wearing extending your legs, and the fabric of the white tank top stretching over your chest. Your lips are painted blood red, as if you are ready for battle.
He’s not the only one in the pub staring at you but you keep your eyes fixed on him, burning into his eyes, as you move across the floor. 
“Honey” you greet him. “Got one of those for me as well?” You nod to the beer in his hand, frozen mid movement to his mouth. 
“Why?” He asks, trying to regain the upper hand. “Feeling thirsty?”
You laugh dryly, looking down at his crotch, where he’s painfully aware a bulge is showing. Instead of commenting on it he hands you the other beer bottle he ordered and watches as you wrap your red lips around the opening, swallowing down. He feels warm all over in the stuffy pub and he pulls at the collar of his t-shirt. 
He reaches for the cue sticks and hands you one. “Alright, darling” he sighs, knowing very well what kind of teasing hell you are about to put him through tonight, “let’s play.”
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The playlist has gone from Ed Sheeran songs to Mumford & Sons and the pub is still packed with people, though the pool area remains empty apart from you and Tom. It's warm in there and Tom takes big gulps from his third beer of the night. He can feel sweat forming on his back, his brow, his chest. 
You’re not helping the situation. Although he’s pretty certain that helping is opposite of what you’re trying to do. 
“You’re so fucking annoying” he whines, as he watches you hit the white ball perfectly, resulting in two of your striped balls ending up in the pockets. He’s leaned back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and mouth in a thin line.
He fucking hates losing. 
“You know what you should do?” You ask, lining up against the table, arched back as you bend over with your cue stick; giving him a full view of your fucking fantastic thighs, “try to fuck it out of me.” You hit another perfect shot and a third ball goes in. You look over your shoulder at him, still bent over the table, and wink.
Standing up straight you turn to him. Swaying your hips to the music you lift the beer bottle to your red lips and you swallow a mouthful. Placing the bottle next to you on the side of the pool table you walk over to him, standing so close you’re almost touching. 
Almost
In fact, you might as well be, for he can smell your perfume, mixing with the scent of your shampoo. Can feel the heat radiate of your warm body. It’s been so long since he’s held you and his entire body is painfully aware of it. 
With your lips just centimeters from his you whisper; voice husky and low, “I know how bad you want me, honey.” You move your face so that you’re almost kissing the stubble on his cheek, mouth nearly pressed against it. 
“You want my hands” you whisper again, looking up at him, your hand hovering right over his erection, carefully as not to touch it, and he nearly bucks out to meet your hand. He’s glad that the area is more secluded, part of the wall hiding the pair of you from view. It feels like there’s just the two of you in the entire world; might as well be for all he cares right now. A blush colours his cheeks as he stares back at you.
 “You want my mouth” you breathe against him, your lips curled into an evil smile. “You want my tongue” and you lick your lips before biting it, eyes sparkling with mischief. 
“You wish I was on my hands and knees right now, so you could fuck my mouth.” you finish. 
His skin feels tight and overheated, but he keeps his tone casual as he replies, “actually I wish you were bent over the table so spank that arse of yours, but sure, I wouldn’t say no to a blowie.”
“What’s stopping you? You think you can hold on forever? You know I’m not going to give in, Tom. You know me. Can you imagine going to sleep tonight? Untouched? Again?” 
There’s no use he thinks as he plunges in for a kiss, pulling you tight against him; eager to touch as much as you as possible with impatient hands. 
He tried to beat the devil at her own game and he lost.
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“Think you lost, honey” you say between kisses as he’s pressing you up against the front door. 
“Don’t give a flying fuck love, just keep touching me and I’ll die a happy man.” His voice is breathless and hoarse and his hands are all over you; as if he can’t get enough. Your hand is in his soft hair, holding on, as the other is cupping the bulge in his trousers, stroking him through the fabric as he whimpers in your ear. 
“We should probably get inside,” you whisper. “Unless you want your neighbors to witness me give you a hand job on the front steps.” 
He groans, but steps away from you. His hair is ruffled and his pupils are blown wide, spit from your previous kissing covering his lower lip. You imagine you look just as disheveled. 
“Think you need to learn a lesson in delayed gratification” you tease, not being able to stop yourself. 
His eyes go even darker and he takes a step forward again, cups your chin and looks you straight in the eye in a way that has bolts of excitement shoot up your spine. “Before the night is over” he says in a slow, gruff voice, “I will teach you all there is to know about delayed gratification.”
He digs in his pockets, pulls out his keys and unlocks the front door, guiding you in with a hand on your lower back. 
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He feels as if someone has lit a match under his skin. His whole body is screaming with vehement urgency for yours. His hands can’t get enough of you; his lips never want to leave your soft lips again. Your soft little noises are filling his head and he hardly even registers your hands unzipping his jeans; until you’re pulling them, alongside his boxers, off of him in a sharp tugging notion. 
“Filthy girl, I fucking love you” he moans out between kisses as you wrap your soft hand around his hard cock. 
He pulls at your tank top and for a moment your skin separates entirely from his as you step away, so that he can remove the fabric from you. Yanking at the goddamn jeans shorts he pulls them down around your ankles and you step out of them.  Your underwear soon follows suit along with his t-shirt until you both are free of any inconvenient clothing. 
He needs your warm and soft skin pressed against his, needs your soft little moans in his ear as he fucks into you, needs the taste of your sweet skin on his tongue. 
He lifts you up on the bed and soon follows suit. Reaching down he slips a finger between your legs, feels how wet and warm and slick you are and groans loudly against your shoulder. 
Lining up against you, cock in hand he looks at your lust filled eyes. “Next time I’ll go slow, yeah? I’ll take my time.”
Your answer is your hands on his shoulder, pulling him against you and he slips inside you with an ecstatic moan. You moan as well, wrap your legs around his hips. He starts moving, thrusting in and out of you with greedy dragged out jabs. The wet sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room and mixes with your whimpering mewls. 
You are so hot and tight and wet around him and the pleasure is so intense it’s bordering on painful. His face is so close to yours, it is as if you are sharing breaths. 
He wants to punch himself from denying himself this for several days when he already had to go without for months.
“Did you think your hands could stand in for mine while I was away? That it could measure up at all?” He asks you, voice thick with lust. He’s so full of want for you and you’re all soft noise and wandering hands. Your warm breath on his even warmer skin. His lips on your nipples; kissing, sucking, biting. 
You writhe beneath him, unable to lay still as you buck your hips up to meet his; fucking into him. He’s not going to last long but neither is you and holding on is a losing battle. Like he said, next time he will go slower, gentler, softer. Drag it out for an entire night. But you both have too much built up pressure inside you to last now. He feels like a bomb about to go off, sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine, as he fucks into you with even greater force. You’re hot and swollen and hugging onto him so perfectly he feels like he’s going to lose his mind if he doesn’t get to come soon. 
But he knows that you are close. Feels it in your nails, dragging along his back, in the sharp movements of your thrusts, in your laboured breathing against his shoulder. He feels it in the way your cunt squeezes around him.
“I’m coming” you whimper and he wants to cry from the relief as he feels you spasm around him.
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“Fuck” you moan out as your breathing calms down, and he’s holding you pressed against his chest. “Haven’t had a decent orgasm in months, I wasn’t prepared for that.”
“You really can’t function without me, can you?” he says with a smug smile and honestly, hadn’t you’ve been so blissed out you probably would have bitten him. 
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A/N: I honestly don’t know if any of this made sense. I’m drunk and tired and I’m going to bed. If you read it, please leave your thoughts. 
659 notes · View notes
yesimwriting · 3 years
Note
Would you write a Kaz Brekker request where the reader is a bookworm and a crow and basically Kaz asks the reader to read to him as his way of apologizing after a argument that was his fault?
 it ​​a/n i did something kinda similar in a 'promise of rain' blurb,, but this concept is so cute to me:)) love it sm i moved it up my request cue lol
also IM IN COLLEGE NOW!! WHAT?? AND IVE BEEN TO A PARTY! AND IM JOINING A SORORITY AND I DID DRAMA AUDITIONS AND AHH !! SO DIFFERENT! I MISS MY MOM AND SISTER AND DOG AND EVEN MY DAD BUT IM HAPPY HERE!! 
also im a little worried this might not portray kaz superrrrr accurately bc it's been awhile so just let me know,, feedback leads to improvement:)) also kinda set this up for a part 2 bc...well youll see 
--
They've always said a lot of things about him, and I've always heard them. But I've never quite believed them. Sure, I get why the dark things that have flourished in the poisoned soil that is Ketterdam consider Kaz Brekker the darkest thing of all. I understand the nickname 'Dirtyhands' for the gloved criminal who has fooled each crime boss at least once. I understand each terrible thing they've said about him.
But I've never agreed with them. I've never even considered agreeing with them. Until today.
The thought that maybe everything people say about him is correct in a simple context struck me worse than the silence after our argument. It made me feel like both a fool and hypocrite. Kaz and I have had our fair share of spats over the relatively short time we've known each other, but never like this. Never so badly he stormed out of the room before I could. I squeeze the book in my lap even harder, desperate to focus on the words on the pages.
You didn't hurt him. He walked away because he decided you weren't worth the cost of his expensive time. I repeat those thoughts in my mind over and over again, letting them bitter me further. It's a lot easier to be mad than hurt. A lot easier to fuel your pain than try to understand your mistakes. Besides, tiredness is already dredging around in my chest and if I don't calm down a little I won't be able to fall asleep.
I had escalated the fight more than I should have. Knowing Kaz is like performing in a tightrope act. One must always be aware of where they're going. Watching what's in front of them without ever thinking too much about what's beneath or behind them. Today though, when I needed my balance most I chose to fall. I chose to dive, and apparently there was no net.
"Oh, you're doing that thing."
I roll my eyes at Jesper's voice as I fight down a yawn. I wipe my face with the back of my palm before turning. The burning behind my eyes never resulted in full tears, but I feel better after doing so. "What thing?"
"That terribly noble thing where you find it in yourself to take full blame for every single conflict you and boss man fall into." The slight humor in his voice is enough for me to roll my eyes again. "Between you and me, I'm sure the reason he's so angry now is because you didn't do that for once."
I press my lips together as my chin angles itself upwards slightly. "I never do that." He raises an eyebrow. The slight sympathy that colors the look is more offensive than his accusation. "If I pick and choose my battles, it's for good reason."
"Clearly."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
He shrugs once before further entering my room. I say nothing when he sits at the foot of my bed. "Oh, you know," Jesper stretches back casually, resting his back against the wall and extending his legs, "You and Kaz--Kaz and you."
Has he been drinking? Perhaps he's not here because of my unusual absence from downstairs after my fight with Kaz but because he's already too tipsy to think right. "What?"
At my confused look he grins, flashing all of his teeth with an arrogance that outshines the whiteness of them. He taps the still open book in my lap. "Let me put it in terms you'll understand." Jesper sits up a little further, amusement clear in his features. "You two make a shameful Elizabeth and Darcy--"
"Oh, shut up," I groan, glaring at him, "This isn't Pride and Prejudice. And Kaz and I," Jesper's smugness returns when I can't quite think of what I want to say, "We're barely friends--we're barely anything, let alone what you're implying."
Jesper pulls his legs up and shoves me gently. "Dearest, y/n," he ignores my glare, "You should know better than anyone that 'barely friends, barely anything' with Kaz is more than it is with anyone else?"
"That doesn't mea--"
"You two say goodnight to each other." Once. Kaz and I said good night to each other in front of Jesper once. How dare he assume it happens regularly? He's right, but that doesn't mean I'm okay with it. "You play cards with him. Not for money, not for skill--"
"It's for practice." The look Jesper gives me is enough to tell me that my defense didn't land.
Damn him for ever finding Kaz and I on one of those strange nights. One of those nights in which he lurks at the stairwell...the one that divides my room and his attic. One of those nights in which it feels like he's a phantom and I'm the only one that can really see him. A night in which we both silently find each other.
I couldn't quite believe it the first time it happened. I'm not exactly a Crow--I don't feel enough a connection to the Dregs to join them without some kind of guarantee--but I was needed for some obscure job. but I was needed for some obscure job. The Crows needed an insider who could blend into high society, and I needed a place to stay away from my father.
It worked. I worked. And with each passing day I found myself enjoying the Crows more and more. That's why I stayed. That's why I started checking the stairwell practically every night, a set of playing cards in my hand.
The first time had been awkward. I couldn't sleep and my room felt too quiet, but the rambunctious club felt too loud and a little unsafe considering the hour. So I settled for the only space in between. When Kaz found me sitting on the steps and playing a solitary card game I had been so stunned by embarrassment I just offered to deal him in. I had been more shocked when he silently accepted my offer.
"Practice?" Jesper repeats. "You were laughing, I heard you."
"That was one time--how do you know we didn't just happen to play cards together the one time you saw it?"
"Because you laughed about a play you considered 'predictable'."
Sighing, I sit up a little straighter. "I'm not having this conversation. Occasionally saying 'goodnight' to someone who lives in the same space I live in and sometimes playing cards with said person because we both happen to be up at a certain time doesn't mean anything."
"And the way he looked at the contact that was flirting with you?"
Oh...this conversation again. "For the last time, the contact wasn't flirting with me. We had to dance to blend in and when he leaned towards me to whisper in my ear...it was to tell me the intel Kaz just had to have."
"And when he tucked that strand of hair behind your ear?"
"He just wanted to sell our cove--"
"Y/n, he kissed your cheek and I'm fairly certain he would have kissed you if Kaz and I hadn't made it to the corridor at that second."
Why is everyone so obsessed with what would have never happened? The contact had been attractive, tall with fair eyes and hair. But it's not like I feel anything for him, nor would I have been so foolish during a job. A fact that Kaz refuses to believe. I'm tired of this argument...I'm just tired. This job required me to start getting ready early in the morning and lasted long into the night.
"I wouldn't have kissed him and even if I had, the fact that Kaz is so mad about feels...sexist." A stupid argument, considering that Kaz couldn't care less if the person he's working with is female, male, or anything in between because the only thing he cares about is profit. "It's a stupid thing to be mad about, but you hit on anything with a pulse at any time and--"
"I resent that--"
"For the first two weeks I was here I thought you might've been a prostitute."
I can feel him holding in a laugh. "Did you at least think I was a good prostitute?" When I glare again, he finally actually laughs. "Not the point--got it."
"Then what is the point? You're bored and obsessed with gossip so now you're shaking me for information you don't need."
"The point is you're oblivious." Rude...I move my leg in a weak attempt to push him off my bed. Jesper catches my ankle easily, ignoring my attempt at a fight. "You thought the contact was only doing his job and you don't know the real reason that Kaz blew up at you for the first time the way he blows up at everyone."
"Okay, well since you know everything, tell me why he's mad."
He lets out a sigh like he can't believe I even needed to ask that. "It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy."
...Maybe he is drunk? "Don't be so cryptic. I don't like you enough to put up with that."
Jesper half-sighs again before pushing himself off my bed. "I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that."
"Asshole," I mumble instinctually as he walks towards my door. "Are you not telling me because I tried to push you off the bed?"
He turns when he reaches my door in order to lean against my door frame. "It's not not because of that." I should throw my book at his head. "In all seriousness, think about it. If you don't you'll either kill each other or kill me."
Ugh...he's so confusing. This time, I let him go. He leaves he door open, which is beyond annoying. I stand up to close it, promising myself I will focus on my book the second it's in my hands again. As I walk back towards my bed, my eyes land on the deck of cards on my nightstand.
Does it send a signal I don't want to send if I don't go the stairwell tonight? Do I want to send a signal? I don't know...actually, the only thing I know is that I don't want to think about this a second longer. I don't ease as I read, but my eyelids become heavier with each word they cross. I feel the weight of them as my focus slips, farther and farther away until I can no longer focus. When my eyes fall shut I can't bring myself to think or force them open.
--
I notice my surprised before I register that I've just woken up. Falling asleep feels so far and yet the crick in my neck confirms the obvious. Rubbing the eyes with the back of my hand, I push my book from my lap and sit up. The only indication of how much time has passed is how much my bedside candle has melted.
How long have I been asleep? How did I manage to fall asleep? I thought I was too mad at Kaz to manage anything but pouting in my room. I hadn't even decided if I wanted to talk to him.
I stand even though I haven't decided anything. I should at least change if I want to go to bed. But is leaving this alone for even longer a bad idea? I think Jesper thought so...though my conversation with him is far from clear. It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy. I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that. What does he want me to do with that?
Maybe he was partially intoxicated and felt the need to play the role of a good friend. Or maybe this is his idea of a joke.
Whatever--regardless of Jesper, I have a choice to make. A tiny part of me hopes it's insignificant, but I know Kaz enough to know that nothing is insignificant to him. He holds onto things the way he holds onto his kruge. Perhaps I'll seek out Inej, she seems to be the best at rationalizing. Though she might be asleep by now, or on a job or...I don't even know.
How late is it? Is it late enough to be one of the few hours Kaz claims to reserve for sleep? Maybe my bad luck is still around and he's already in bed for once. Does that mean his anger will extend to tomorrow?
I shouldn't care. It's not like I'm in the wrong. Did I escalate things? Maybe a little...but I won't apologize for defending myself. Even though that makes everything a little easier. I feel stuck, like in some kind of place of half sleep. A single knock at my door is enough to make me want to jump. I rub my eyes a little more firmly in hopes of waking up more before someone sees me.
I approach the door without worry. Maybe it's not as late as I assumed. Or maybe it's really early? I open the door while still fighting against my slight disorientation. I'm so focused on acting normal, I almost don��t register the person standing at my door. 
I don’t know who I expected, or what--maybe Jesper, much more tipsy than he was before, slumped against the doorframe, only knocking because he’s too tired to push the door open. Maybe even Inej, on her way here to deliver some kind of job or notice of dismissal. But it’s nothing I could expect. It’s...Kaz. 
The Dirtyhands stands at my door, expression as hard as ever yet something behind his eyes that burns the sleep away from me. “Uh--hi.” I bite my tongue to avoid cringing at that very awkward beginning. “Are you here to kick me out yourself?” The only response I get is the slightest shift of his gaze off of my face. “No? Well then I think I’m going to bed. It’s late.” 
My tone and words are clear. Get out of my doorway, I’m in no mood to go back to arguing.  When he still doesn’t say anything, I’m emboldened by my nerves. I push the door between us without breaking eye contact. 
Before the wood can meet the doorframe, he moves his cane, wedging it between us. “Y/n.” I don’t understand the way he says my name, but I’m certain he’s never said it like that. “I...” When he’s not prompted by the uncomfortableness of silence, I raise an eyebrow, my grip on the door tightening. “What I said shouldn’t have been said.” Wait--is he admitting fault? I’m so thrown I almost melt entirely. “Not to you.” 
The addition leaves him so lowly a part of me wonders if I’ve imagined it. I’m so thrown by it I don’t even think to reply until a long second has passed. “You seemed to believe the opposite a few hours ago.” 
His lips press together for a moment. “You didn’t ask me to play cards tonight.” He took that as intentional? At least that got me some kind of apology? I keep my mouth shut, greed making me want more information. I guess he must sense my silent tugging because he head inclines slightly. “Don’t push.” 
I fight down a grin. “Push what?” His only response to stiffen further. “I’m going to tell you something as a peace offering.” That seems to intrigue him in some way. I can’t tell if it’s a good kind of interested, but I note the slight raise of his eyebrows and his intentional silence. “I didn’t chose not to ask you to play cards.” He gives me no indication of anything, which is fair...considering my vagueness. “I was mad, obviously, and in the middle of deciding on a course of action...and then I fell asleep.” 
A long pause of silence. “You fell asleep?” 
I’m not sure if his incredulous tone should offend me or not. If I wanted to lie, I’d like to think he knows me well enough to know that I’d have thought of a better excuse than that. Or at least a less embarrassing one. “Yes, it’s not that difficult to believe. Today had been long and all I wanted to do was read, but then Jesper came in to say the oddest things and then leave me to...” 
Oh--oh. I guess there’s a reason people say to ‘sleep on’ something. Because now, actively remembering Jesper’s words for the first time since I fell asleep...I understand what Jesper was implying in the oddest way possible. He meant that Kaz and I...that perhaps there is a Kaz and I in a context that’s more than just grammatical. Wow. I really had to realize this with Kaz right in front of me. 
My face feels warmer than it did before, an irrational bout of anxiety forcing me to consider that me might be able to read impossible, embarrassing thoughts from my expression alone. 
“What did Jesper say?” I’m too lost in my own spiral of confusion and panic and some feeling I can’t recognize to register how Kaz asks his question. There’s an edge to it, an odd one, but that could easily just be Kaz. 
This is most definitely the last conversation we need to be having. I’m still mad at him for his earlier dramatics. So I just shake my head, feigning an exhaustion I could lose myself in. “Nothing and everything all at once.” I resist the urge to rub my eyes again. “I’m pretty sure he was drinking, and I wasn’t really listening. I was just trying to read.” 
Kaz’s expression hardens briefly as he takes in my words, and then he exhales, nodding once with the breath. “What were you reading?” 
My lips part instinctually, ready to spew off details about the latest novel that’s captured my attention. But before I can let myself take off, the reality of the situation strikes me directly in the chest. This is not Nina, or Inej, or even Jesper after what he considers a ‘good night’. This is Kaz Brekker, the man believed to not have a soul. I’ve spoken to him before about casual things, though most of the nights in which we end up playing cards or just sitting near each other are spent in silence. But he’s never prompted me before. Not in the one topic he knows is guaranteed to turn me into an overenthusiastic, gushing fountain of poor summaries and character analysis. 
I guess this is his peace offering. This shouldn’t warm the way it does. He was still unbelievably dramatic and treated me like I’m some kind of unreliable fool. “It’s late, and you know how I can be. I’d hate to keep you for nothing more than a poor summary and honestly, an embarrassing rant about plot or characters, because there’s just nothing as frustrating as when two people so clearly care about each other and both are too stubborn and oblivious to acknowledge it.” 
Kaz’s eyebrows draw together just enough for me to be able to make out a shift of expression in the poor light. Perhaps his lingering irritation is preparing to rear its ugly head. The corner of his mouth seems to threaten to tilt upwards as Kaz angles his head to the side slightly. “I can’t imagine that position.” 
No kidding. I bite my tongue to keep the sarcastic comment and awkward laugh that would sure follow it away. “Who can? That’s like half the point of reading.” 
How can interaction feel so over and just at its beginning all at once? I press my lips together to avoid filling the silence with things I’d no doubt instantly regret. It’s easy to be mad at Kaz in the moment. Too easy. But to stay mad at him when his temper has passed and he returns with some kind of begrudging and admittedly awkward and uncertain truce is another task entirely. 
“I’ve never understood your attachment to written words.” 
“It’s not about understanding, it’s about everything else.” 
“And you say I’m cryptic.” Is he...kinda almost joking? I straighten my spine, too tired to fight and too wounded to forgive. “There’s understanding in everything, nothing can survive on sentiment alone.” 
“If you read the way I did, you’d understand.” 
His lips press together as his expression remains unwavering in its hardness. “Read to me.” 
...Interacting with Kaz in any way often leaves me feeling like I’m wandering through unknown territory. But this, this is undeniably different. So different I can’t even think of a way to react. I watch his expression as cautiously as possible. He’s purely reserved, no distinction from the look he wears during business propositions. Except there’s a tightness I can’t quite understand.
Maybe it’s because I don’t want to fight anymore. Maybe it’s because exhaustion is leaving me partially delirious. Or maybe it’s the weird feeling in my chest that I can’t quite place. That I don’t want to place. “Okay.” I shift carefully. “If for no other reason then to prove you wrong.” 
Never did I think I’d end up in the position of sitting in my bed, book in hand, with Kaz Brekker sitting next to me. But here we are. I’m so tired, I almost let out a nervous laugh when he first walked in. So brooding and tall, gripping the head of his head cane as he sits at the foot of my bed, on my pastel quilt. 
I’m glad for the excuse to keep my gaze away from him and on the words in front of me. I read out loud, feeling more and more comfortable with each page I finish. But as my inhibitions slip away, so dos my hold on consciousness. My eyelids seem to grow heavier with each word that I read. 
“You’re falling asleep.” 
I straighten my spine on instinct. “Am not.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to deny something so simple. 
“You’re impossible.” 
From him, that statement is laugh worthy. “I’m impossible? Do you not remember earlier today?” 
From the way his jaw locks, I realize that he’s in no mood to be light about this topic. I don’t understand why. It’s not like I’m the one that wronged him. “I remember your lack of focus.” 
Keeping my hands at my side to avoid rubbing my eyes, I frown. “If you want to have this argument again, fine. Jesper is more ‘distracted’ than me half the time and you’re much more lenient on him. It’s not like I was flirting with someone or gambling or doing anything but having a two second conversation. One that I needed to have to get information that you wanted.” 
The last time we fought, I had more energy to restrain myself. This could be atomic. I hold my breath, waiting for Kaz’s retaliation. He exhales, eyes not meeting mine. “Arguing with you when you’re present is exhausting enough. It’s not worth it when you’re half asleep.” 
This angers me further. I hate that he’s right. “I’m not half asleep.” He leaves it at that. I glare even harder at him, slumping further into my bed. “But for the sake of argument, I’ll drop it. Something you’re incapable of doing.” 
At that, his eyes meet mine. I try to hold his gaze, but the harder I think about not seeming tired the more exhaustion slips in. A yawn escapes me before he looks away. Great. “I know when to lie in the grass in wait.” 
Rolling my eyes, I shift back slightly. He’s incapable of being less dramatic than this. Still, I can’t imagine the effort it’s taking on his part to not start an argument. Maybe this is why Jesper spent so long implying that there may be a Kaz and I in any capacity beyond a vague kind of friendship. “I’ll admit you’re tactful.”
“Resourceful people recognize that trait in other people.” 
Blinking twice, I lower my book slightly. Am I truly exhausted, or did he just compliment me in a way? “Careful, I may start to think you find me tolerable.” 
“Let’s not exaggerate.” Okay, now I know I’m exhausted because I think he might have just attempted a joke. Rolling my eyes, I decide not to acknowledge this lightness in fear that I’ll scare it away. “Y/n?” 
I press my lips together, worried about the destruction of our peace. “Yes?” 
“What did Jesper say to you? Earlier?” I pause, slightly unsure why we’re moving backwards. 
We’re in a decent place now, and I’d hate to ruin it. I’m too half asleep to lie eloquently. And it’s not like he’s an easily convinced man. “Oh, he said it so cryptically it took me longer than it should have to understand. And it didn’t help that it was something so...well, you might find it funny. As funny as you find anything, anyways.” Wow...I’ve spent such a long time talking. Rubbing the back of my eyes, I avoid his gaze. Exhaustion and awkwardness mix in my stomach oddly. “It seemed like he was trying to imply that you and I...me and you...” Why is this a difficult thing to say? It’s not like I was implying it and Jesper’s known for his oddness. “I think Jesper was implying that there was a you and I, or at least that there could be.” I’m too lost in a haze of almost sleep to watch his reaction. I let my head rest against my headboard even further. “Isn’t that odd?” 
He’s quiet for a long second, and then he finally speaks again. “Odd, even for Jesper.” The response doesn’t satiate me...what’s that about? I exhale, deciding that feeling is tomorrow’s problem. When I blink, I decide to let my eyes stay closed. Just for a moment. The sound of something shifting is what makes my eyes squint open. Kaz is standing, his expression unreadable as he straightens. “Goodnight, y/n.” 
At that, I sit up slightly, ignoring the exhaustion behind my eyes. “I haven’t finished the chapter.” 
“You’ve convinced me of enough.” A concession? How exhausted do I seem? My lips press together as I think of my next argument. Before I can get it out, Kaz leans forward. He grabs the quilt at the end of my bed and tosses it onto my legs casually. “Goodnight, y/n.” The meaning of his repetition is clear. His word is final. 
I find enough energy to manage a glare, but I pull the quilt over my legs anyways. “Goodnight, Kaz.”
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clonewarslover55 · 3 years
Note
congrats on sticking with the writing for a year! I love reading your stuff and can't wait to see what you put out in the future.
If your still taking requests can I have a bad batch x reader (you can pick which catcher it is) where they aren't together but like each other and have to pretend to be parents to omega to get out of trouble?
(I hope that makes sense. If it doesn't or it doesn't appeal to you, it's alright. I'm just a sucker for Star Wars Dads like the batch and Din😆)
Thanks!
Pretending to be Omega's parents with Hunter
Hunter X GenderNeutral!Reader
Thank you so much anon!! And yes, this makes perfect sense!! I really loved this request actually!
Notes: I chose Hunter because he is the main dad of the group! Also the reader is gender neutral!
Warnings: Spoilers for the Bad Batch, reader has known them for years so this fits together better(established relationship), Reader and Hunter have some mutual pinning going on ;)
You had worked with the Bad Batch throughout most of the Clone Wars, and they considered you a trustworthy assaset. Of course you were a low life like many others in the galaxy.
You worked odd jobs to make ends meet. From Bounty Hunter to smuggler, you had done it all. The Bad Batch loved you and all that you did, especially when you helped them on jobs or with their ship.
Once the war ended you were making good money off of many jobs, well until some certain clones came knocking on your door. You couldn’t say no to your boys, so you willingly welcomed them back into your life.
Now you were on the run with them; your future career in odd jobs possibly went down the drain now that the Empire was on your ass as well. But oh was it fun working with them again. Sadly Crosshair was left behind and now a slave to the Empire instead of the Republic. You’d miss the grouchy bastard. You’d help your boys get him back soon though.
Since the last time you saw them, the Bad Batch had also gained a new member. A sweet little blonde girl named Omega. She was absolutely adorable, and Hunter had clearly adopted her in his head. He’d do anything for that kid.
It was precious. And it only made your attraction to him grow.
You had always liked Hunter a bit more than the others…..In a different way as well. You believed the feeling was mutual. Well, you hoped it was.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*The Havoc Marauder,(The Bad Batch’s ship), Space.*
Currently you are sitting in the ship, Omega sitting in your lap. You were telling her a story about some Bounty Job you had done a few years back. It was an incredible story, and of course you were the badass in it.
You exaggerated the story a bit, and Hunter clearly noticed. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, Hunter looking at you with a knowing smirk. You winked at him before turning your full attention back to Omega.
Her eyes were wide as she listened with great interest. Every now and then she’d interrupt you with a question. She was extremely curious, but still a sweetheart.
“We’re nearly there. The market town is rather large but we could still be noticed. The Empire clearly has a hold on the city.” Tech spoke, glancing at everyone in the ship. “The only way in is with disguises.”
You sat down Omega, “We’ll finish the story later.” You whispered, winking at the young girl. She grinned widely, winking back.
Wrecker laughed from the back, setting down the Gonk droid. “Yeah! Our armor does stand out huh?!” He punched Echo’s shoulder, Echo winching and glaring at his brother. You grinned at the boys.
“Oh I have an idea for Hunter and you.” Tech looked at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Tech knew you and Hunter had been pinning after one another for some time, neither of you making a move. So he’d make the move for you both.
You could nearly read their minds at this point. So you knew just what he had in mind. You glared at Tech, “Bastard.” You mouthed, Tech shrugging his shoulders. Hunter raised his eyebrows, glancing at you both.
“What?” Hunter asked, crossing his arms as he stood up from his seat.
“You two go in, wearing civilian clothes of course. Take Omega…..and pretend to be her parents. No one would have any idea who you are. You’d just be a couple out with their child, shopping the day away.” Hunter glanced at you, something alight in his dark eyes.
“I love this idea!!” Omega chirped, grinning widely at you and Hunter. “We’d be a good family!!” Tech and Echo smirked at you and Hunter. Wrecker looked as oblivious as Omega, but still just as happy.
You smiled nervously at Hunter who merely nodded his head. “Fine.” You spoke as you stood up, walking into the back to change your clothes. Hunter patted Tech’s shoulder as passed him, following you.
Tech grinned at the others once you and Hunter left the room. Omega even knew what was going on. A perfect plan to get you two to hook up!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*The surface of the planet, the ship docks of the market town*
You walked off the ship, your hand holding Omega’s much smaller one. You, Omega, and Hunter were in similar civilian clothes, looking like an average couple with their daughter.
Echo followed with Tech, Wrecker staying on the ship as backup and as a guard. You grinned at their civilian clothes. Echo looked droid like and Tech was in some ugly outfit. Poor Tech looked uncomfortable while Hunter looked extremely comfortable.
“Alright. Separate ways, we grab what we need and bounce.” Hunter spoke, his firm voice making you pay great attention to him. You stared at his lips as he explained the plan.
“Everyone got it?” You nodded even though you hadn’t really listened…..His lips and handsome face were just that distracting. Tech and Echo left first, swiftly disappearing within the crowd of people.
“Alright then. Come on.” Hunter grabbed Omega’s free hand, leading you and her into the market town crowd.
You gently squeezed Omega's hand, “Have that list memorized sweetie?” You questioned, your voice sweet and dripping with honey. Omega grinned at the nickname, nodding eagerly. “Yup!” Hunter smiled back at his “daughter” and you, a soft look in his dark eyes.
About halfway through your little shopping spree Omega paused, looking at a toy cart. You smiled and pulled away from your “husband.” You led Omega to the cart, holding her tiny hand still. Hunter sighed, following you both.
She picked up a toy clone trooper, looking back at you and Hunter with puppy dog eyes. “How can I say no to that?!” You grinned, tossing the vendor the correct amount of credits.
“You spoil her.” Hunter spoke, putting his arm around you. You shrug, “So do you.” Hunter glared at you playfully, the vendor smiling at you both. “Perhaps.” Hunter spoke, leading you away by your waist; Omega followed, one hand holding Hunter’s and the other holding her new toy.
Once you two had all the goods you stopped, out of the way of the crowd of course. “We do make a decent couple don’t we?” You whispered quietly, Hunter’s face inches from yours so he could hear you.
Hunter nodded, Omega ignoring you both as she watched the crowd pass. “We should do this more often shouldn’t we?” He spoke, teasingly brushing his nose against yours. Your face got hot, a wide smile coming onto your face.
“Yes we should.” You whispered, your eyes flicking to his lips. Hunter smirked, finally connecting his lips with yours.
The wonderful kiss was interrupted by Omega screaming, “Ew!!! Tech! Echo! They’re kissing!!!!” You busted out laughing as she screamed over the comms. Hunter clearly died a little bit, hiding his face in your neck.
You laughed harder when you heard the laughing replies. “We’ll never live this down will we?” Hunter questioned. You shrugged, “I hope not.” You muttered, pressing your lips to his once again.
Tags: @leias-left-hair-bun @catsnkooks @azem-thefourteenth @colorfulloverbatturkey @blueberrybubblesandboba @ahsokatano-thetogruta @jedi-mando @peacefulwizardfox @hounding-around @julyzaa @feathersforclones @chr0nicbackpain @fyrepen33 @mistflyer1102 @kamino-mermaid @cherry-cokes-posts @cherry-cokes-world @darmanfi @silverinkandstardust @chewychewyque @majorshiraharu @ravenpuff01 @808tsuika @meabravo @daffodin @commanderrivercc-3628 @captainrexstan @girlvader @ct7567329 @just-some-girl-92 @marvel-starwars-nerd @valkyrieofthehighfae @my-awakened-ghost @mackstrut @katethecrazy @lightning-wolffe @dominhoe-squad @qui-gon-jinn-and-tonic
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sinner-as-saint · 4 years
Text
Poison Paradise.
Requests were sent in for fratboy!Bucky, tattooed Biker!Bucky and modern Bastard son!Bucky so here’s everything, in one. 
Themes: smut, biker!bucky, fluff
This is how I picture Bucky for this   
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Bucky Barnes is the most popular guy on campus. He’s arrogant, and proud and somewhat of a bad boy. He’s loud, and a well-known troublemaker. He’s every professor’s nightmare. But he’s also drop dead gorgeous, with the kind of charm which made him hard to resist.
He was beautiful, but also dark and dangerous, like a poisoned paradise. 
Frat house parties, getting wasted and then getting in trouble with his friends, always on his notorious loud bike which made all the girls almost worship the ground he walks on. 
You always kept a safe distance from him and his friends. However, little did you know that he always kept an eye on you. After all, you were his step brother’s best friend. 
Bucky hated his step brother with a passion. Mainly because the latter was the only legitimate child to their dad and due to that, Bucky sort of became the black sheep of the family while everyone else idolized his step brother - Steve. 
Bucky always tried to stay away from Steve; never wanted to get in his business, stayed away from his friend group, and vowed to never talk to any of Steve’s friends. But that was until the day he saw you at a party. With Steve. 
He managed to find a way to come up and talk to you. And he was aware that the whole room stared as he made his way over to you. Sleeves of tattoos on both arms, ears pierced, dogs tags dangling and bringing more attention to his broad, muscular chest and tan skin. 
You had to admit, although an incorrigible fuckboy, Bucky Barnes was gorgeous. And those steel blue eyes of his made you weak in the knees. “So, are you Steve’s girlfriend?” He asked, all cocky as he leaned against the counter, facing you in the crowded kitchen. 
You blinked a few times, got over the fact that the most popular guy on campus was just here having a conversation with you. “Uh, no. We’re just good friends.” 
Bucky nodded, and smirked. “Good.” His answer made you frown. He took a step or two and leaned in to whisper in your ear. “Because else I’d have to get rid of him to make you mine.” 
His words sent shivers down your spine. And once you recovered, you pulled away and faced him confidently. Cocky little shit. “In your dreams, Bucky.” 
He chuckled, “Trust me babygirl, you don’t wanna know about what we do in my dreams.” he winked and gave you that smile which won over all the girls in a heartbeat. And although he was hard to resist, you found the courage to push him off and walk away. 
Since that first interaction, it began - the chase. Bucky loved it, because most of the time the girls threw themselves at him. But not you, you on the contrary were pushing him away. But even he hit his limit eventually. So when he found you walking back to campus from your shift at the bakery one night, he decided to give you a ride. You were walking on the side walk when you heard the roar of his engine, you walked faster but he was beside you in no time, causing you to stop and stare even though you tried hard not to. 
Fuck... he always looked so, delicious. The right amount of mysterious and hot. Bad boy charm which no one could resist. “Come on doll, it’s cold out. I won’t let you walk alone.” He persisted. 
You glared at him and tightened your jacket around you. “I’m not getting on your bike.” You had always feared his mean, dark and dangerous looking bike. 
He took his black helmet off and faced you again. His deep blue eyes looking deep into yours. “You’ll be fine doll, there’s not need to be afraid. All you have to do is hold me tight.” he spoke with a smirk. 
To be honest, he looked like he was warm too. Plus it began drizzling a little and if you didn’t accept to take a ride with him, you’d have a cold by the time you made it back to your dorm. “Fine.” you muttered and Bucky quickly handed you the other, matching, helmet he always kept. 
The ride back to campus was just how you imagined it would be; quiet with just the sound of the cold wind and light rain. Your arms wrapped around his torso instinctively and your heart raced as how close he was to you. His warm, hard and firm back pressing against you. You hated that you enjoyed the ride. 
“So can I take you out?” he asked, out of nowhere once you got off his bike. 
You eyes widened at him. “Give up Bucky. I won’t date you.” 
He smirked, like he had been ready for this. “Why? ‘Cause you like Steve?” He sounded all cocky again. 
“What? No. He’s a good friend.” 
“Prove it.” Bucky scoffed. And you raised your eyebrow at him. He spoke again, “Go out with me and prove it. Else I’ll just lie and tell everyone that you’re in love with Steve.” 
You sighed, annoyed and lowkey blushing. “What are we, five year olds?” 
Bucky smirked and parked his bike and got off. Watching him get off that mean bike of his and removing his helmet was no less than watching a strip show. It excited you just the same. The way his arms flexed, and how he secured that helmet under his arm and how his dog tags looked all shiny in the dimmed lights and the look in his eyes... oh the look in his stormy blue eyes... 
He approached you, leaned in closer, grabbed your chin in between his cold fingers and pressed his lips to yours. You were surprised, but once you got a taste of his lips, you couldn’t help but kiss him back. 
He kissed you deeply, taking his time and savoring you. His tongue stroking the top of your mouth and making you all crazy. He placed his hand at your waist gently, pulling you closer. He kissed you until the taste of his mouth was branded in your head.
Moments later, when he pulled away he looked at you and mumbled, “Gotta say, you taste sweeter than the goodies at the bakery.” He winked and left. Left you standing there and admitting that yes – you were indeed falling under his spell and you were diving in head first.
Fuck, this is gonna be messy.
First date, he came to pick you up and took you to a cozy, warm diner not far from campus.
Second date, at a beach just in time to catch the sunset.
By the third date, you began realizing that actually Bucky wasn’t as bad as everyone thought he was. Sure he was cocky and arrogant, but he was also a deep thinker and a little bit of a space nerd. He had conspiracy theories on almost everything.
You two kept your… close bond, if you will, a secret. Especially from Steve. How could you tell your best friend that you had been going on dates with his half-brother whom he doesn’t quite get along with?
“Why do you hate Steve?” you dropped the question one night, as you and Bucky sneaked out and went to get ice cream.
“He’s always had it easy. Too easy. He’s perfect, everyone loves him. For once, I… I just need to have something that he can’t have.” His answer rubbed you the wrong way a little.
“Is that why I’m here? Is that why we’ve been hanging out, just so you could show off to Steve?” you asked, and he got quiet. “Bucky?” you called out, ready to leave if he didn’t answer right away.
He looked up at you sheepishly. “In the beginning, yes. But then falling for you wasn’t in the plan, it just sort of happened.” He continued, lowering his eyes. “You’re amazing. You’re kind, and warm and you don’t sugarcoat shit. You say it as it is. You’re not afraid to point out my mistakes. I need that. I need you.”
Oh…
You initially thought you’d be pissed off, but instead, you felt really confident and cocky. “So you like me?”
From that day on, things changed between you and Bucky. You began meeting and going out more frequently. Whenever your roommate was out, Bucky would sneak in and stay the night. He was quite an affectionate guy, much to your surprise.
Lots of hugs and kisses
Even more bike rides.
Dating fratboy/biker/bastard son!Bucky would include;
Realizing how much cleaner and tidy Bucky’s room was compared to the rest of the boys at the frat house
Always being invited to the frat house parties
Eventually telling Steve about you and Bucky. He wasn’t the happiest person when he heard it, but he did tell you that if Bucky hurts you, he would kick his ass and would enjoy it.
Not talking about his family, especially his dad, because it upsets him.
Him ditching ‘the boys’ to come hang out with you.
Him scaring away any potential new friends of yours with his tattoos, dog tags and stand-offish manner.
Movie nights would mainly be him watching the movie while cuddling you, but all your attention would go to his sleeves of tattoos and you could spend hours and hours just admiring them.
Playing with his dog tags whenever you’re napping together and he falls asleep faster.
Stealing his leather jackets, thinking he doesn’t notice because he has LOTS of them. Him noticing but letting you take them anyways.
Him picking you up and dropping to wherever you needed to go on his sexy bike. Oh you loved it.
You being a positive influence on him, and encouraging him to get his grades up and stop messing around so much. He was still just as mischievous, only a much better student as well.
And lots of sex; Bucky Barnes was insatiable…
“Babe come on,” he’d whine each time he’d come over to find you studying. “You can study later.” Making his way over to where you were sat in your bed. He’d make himself comfortable beside you, pushing his face into your neck and kissing your skin until you could no longer focus on homework. He’d smirk each time, knowing he was successful in distracting you and that now he’d have you all to himself for the rest of the night.
Bucky was also very jealous. Territorial, he preferred to call it.
“You’re mine, and I don’t want you around other guys.”
“Steve’s my friend! He’s your brother for fuck’s sake!”
“Half brother! And no, he’s not your friend. He wants you.”
“Bucky, shut up-,”
He’d cut you off with a kiss, pushing you against the wall and pinning your hands above your head. Kissing you hard, and making you moan a little. “I don’t wanna argue. You’re mine, and that’s that.”
He’d undress you in less than a minute; his lips and hands never leaving your body. He’d have you gasping and begging for more before he even touches you properly.
His hand would find it’s way in between your legs, fingers slipping past your wet entrance. You’d whine and hold on to him as he finger-fucks you. “Whose making you feel this good, huh baby?” he’d ask, all cocky and being the little shit he is. You’d moan his name and he’d chuckle. “That’s right, I am.” He’d lean in to whisper, “You belong to me. Your sweet, pretty little cunt is mine, you hear me?”
Okay but imagine him fucking you right there against the wall because he just needs to hear to scream his name and he’s too impatient to walk to the bed.
Legs wrapped around his waist, his tattooed arms holding you up, his cold dog tags pressing against your bare chest each time he spreads you open and pounds into you; each thrust deeper and harder than the last.
He’d moan right in your ear, growling each time your walls clenched around him, fucking you hard and fast. “You’re all mine, you get that?” he say through gritted teeth as he rams his cock in and out of you; making you tear up and moan at how well he filled you up and stretched you out.
After making you cum around his cock, he’d probably take you to bed and fuck you again. Pinning your sensitive body down on the bed and pounding into you until you came again, and again. Or maybe he’d eat you out; gently teasing you with his tongue and tasting you until you were so sensitive and overstimulated that you’d have to push him off or beg him to stop.
“Will you be mine?” he asked one night as the two of you were tangled in bed, bodies warm and damp due to fucking like animals just minutes ago.
“Thought I already was.” you teased.
He chuckled and kissed your forehead. “I meant, my girlfriend. Officially.”
You looked up at him and leaned in to kiss his jaw. “Yes.”
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Text
When You Are Ready
Summary: Years after the events of the akuma Truth Luka gets a visit from an old friend he hadn’t seen in years. And they’re finally ready to tell him the truth. Inspired by S4E01 episode “Truth”.
***SPOILER WARNING***
The story below contains spoilers to the ML episode "Truth". If you haven't watched, read at your own risk.
This is for all the heartbroken Lukanette stans out there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
‘Great playin’ with you tonight, son,’ Jagged stuck his head inside Luka’s dressing room. For some reason his smile was wider than usual. 
‘Thanks, J,’ Luka nodded. Even after they managed to mend the 16 year gap in their relationship, he couldn’t bring himself to call the rockman “dad”. ‘You too.’
Jagged’s head remained at the door. 
‘You wanted something, old man?’ Luka asked. They’d been performing together for a few years already, but it wasn’t like Jagged to randomly pay him a visit after a concert.
Jagged gasped in mock offence. ‘I’m not that old, mind you. Still can kick your ass on the lead guitar, rookie,’ he waved a warning finger. ‘I’m heading out, just dropped to tell you there’s someone waiting for you at the back. I let her in because it’s raining cats and dogs outside.’
“Her”?
Plenty of fans loitered around after their concerts, but the security kept them in check. Who could make Jagged invite them inside despite their security policy?
‘Who is she?’
Jagged’s grin got positively sly. ‘An old friend, that’s all I’m sayin’. Just remember to show up to rehearsal tomorrow.’ He winked and shot the young man with a finger gun.
That was weird, even for Jagged. Luka quickly gathered his things, secured his guitar and left the dressing room. The corridor was dark and quiet, with most of the crew already gone, but Luka thought there was something strangely familiar in the air, like a memory of a forgotten song that suddenly slipped into his mind. He made a few tentative steps and turned the corner.
Indeed, there was a woman at the back door, leaning against the wall and fidgeting nervously. She turned a small package in her hands and tapped her foot, as if trying to gather courage. He recognized her song in an instant.
‘Marinette?’ Luka rasped, suddenly breathless.
She turned her infinitely blue eyes to him. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. When was the last time he saw her? At Juleka’s graduation? Maybe a few times after that? 
Her life was already a whirlwind when he had met her, and little had changed in the following years. She was always so busy, always in a hurry. Her song became more frantic, burdened with fear and guilt. Luka couldn’t take it. And so days of silence turned into weeks, then months and years. Despite their best efforts they drifted apart and even her occasional commissions for Jagged never served as an opportunity to meet or catch up. He got on with his life, even if Marinette always held a special place in his heart. 
‘Hi!’ She smiled hesitantly, brushing a stray curl of her hair behind her ear.
‘Oh my gosh, hi!’ Luka dropped his bag and hugged her tight. At first she went stiff in his arms, but it only took a moment for her to relax and reciprocate the embrace. 
‘It’s so good to see you,’ he said, letting her go. ‘How are you?’
It really was good to see her, although his heart stuttered in her presence. He wanted to ask an entirely different question. Why was she here? Why did she come to see him after years of keeping quiet? 
‘I’m okay, you know, just doing my thing,’ she shrugged. That obviously wasn’t how she wanted this conversation to go either.
‘So what brings you here? Still a fan of Jagged?’ He risked.
‘Yeah, yours as well, but- ‘ she paused and took a deep breath, ‘that’s not why I’m here. I’m- ugh, why is this so hard?’ she muttered under her breath.
Luka put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Easy, Marinette,’ he whispered, ‘remember you can tell me everything, always,’ he assured.  
She closed her eyes. ‘This was a stupid idea. I just-’
He waited patiently, feeling her shiver under his touch. Her song became erratic, panicked even. This was so unlike Marinette, he started to worry.
‘You said- that evening by the Seine you said, “when you’re ready”,’ she spoke quietly.
He could barely hear her, but still her words made him come back to that heartbreaking moment by the bridge, when she ended things between them even before they really began. He never found out why, never understood, but also never questioned her decision. 
‘It’s been 10 years,’ he said, more to himself and his memory. 
‘Yeah…’
‘So many things happened in those 10 years,’ he mused.
‘Mhmmm…’ Marinette murmured. ‘Your solo album came out. You were on tour with Jagged. We graduated, went to university.’
‘Hawkmoth was defeated.’
‘Only recently,’ she reminded him. ‘But yeah.’
Silence fell over them. Luka still couldn’t make anything out of her presence and her reason to come.
‘You said: “when you’re ready, I’ll be here for you”,’ she repeated, louder now, more determined, as if she finally found her courage. ‘Are you?’
‘If you’re asking, if I have been in a relationship since we were teens, Marinette,’ he replied carefully picking his words, ‘then yes - I’ve been in a few, actually.’ 
But she must have known that, he’d always been honest, not only with her, but with everyone. He never hid. Not after his akumatizations. He’d learned from his parents’ and his own mistakes. 
Marinette hunched. Before she turned her face away from him he glimpsed a tear in her eye. She bit her lip.
But none of them could ever compare to you, he wanted to say. The song of her heart has changed, matured, but it was no less fascinating. If anything, he found it even more captivating than when she’d been 14. 
However, at least one thing about him hadn’t changed either. 
‘I’m a simple, honest guy, Marinette,’ he said. ‘My heart doesn’t handle rejection well, neither dishonesty. Without the truth-’ he drifted off, letting her come to the conclusion on her own. He wasn’t that cruel to say it out loud.
‘I remember what you said and I remember what I’ve done, what I’ve been like,’ Marinette was calm now, but there was strange gravity in her tone. ‘I wouldn’t have come here, if - like you’d said - I wasn’t ready. Here,’ the box she’d been playing with appeared in front of his face. ‘Open it, when you’re alone. Then you’ll understand.’
‘Understand what?’
‘Me,’ she said quietly, turning to leave.
‘What about Adrien?’ Luka remembered that thorn as well.
Marinette halted with her hand on the doorknob. ‘That’s a long story.’
‘Believe me, I know,’ Luka chuckled humorlessly.
‘Adrien’s still a big part of my life, but we’re not a couple,’ Marinette said in a colorless voice.
‘Just friends?’ He couldn’t help himself.
‘Hah,’ she snorted. ‘Best friends. But just friends.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah. Adrien has some stuff he needs to deal with and I- I finally know what I want and what I need,’ she turned and shot him a meaningful look. Then she left.
Luka stayed in the darkness for a while, mulling over the revelations of the past few minutes. Marinette had always cared for the truth, he knew that well. But there was a new sincerity to her today, laced with quiet determination, that shook him to his core. He wished he could comprehend that mystery.
Then his eyes fell on the little gift box and her words came back to him. “Open it. Then you’ll understand.”
Luka braced himself and slowly, carefully raised the lid. 
Oh.
Inside, on blue silk lay a single guitar pick. It was red with a pattern of black dots. 
Oh.
Finally the missing piece of the puzzle clicked into place. The part of the melody that’s been eluding him from the start, just out of his reach, but right under his nose. He smiled to himself as his fingers closed over the pick. And for the first time in years his heart skipped a beat.
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kerie-prince · 3 years
Text
butterfly fly away
Dad!Sirius Black x Reader (platonic)
requested: (anon) may i please request ( platonic ) sirius black x daughter ! reader where the reader is about to start another year of hogwarts but she doesn’t want to go because she’s worried something will happen to sirius and he’ll miss another 12 years of her life 🥺
warnings: none
summary: Now that you've reunited with your father after years of being in Azkaban, you're worried about his safety and overall well being when you start another year at Hogwarts (song inspo: Miley and Billy Ray Cyrus' Butterfly Fly Away)
a/n: uh this is me announcing that i'll be using the fancast for all marauder fics, ty <3 also what is it with me and making everything into a song fic? am i gonna stop tho? no
(gif cred)
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Things were happening all too fast in your third year of Hogwarts. You found out that your best friend, Harry, is your fathers’ godson, your father had escaped Azkaban, and your friends found out that your Uncle Remus is a werewolf. You've known for a long time as he's raised you in stead of Sirius while he was imprisoned and your mother who had unfortunately passed when you were born.
It was hard to lie to your friends about your real name, especially during the course of the last year. That you're actually Y/N Black, not Y/L/N. But when Sirius’ name was cleared, the weight of the lie was a relief off your shoulders.
Your friends, especially Harry, were upset that you hadn't told them the truth but eventually understood where you were coming from. You kept going by Y/L/N for a while and only your friends, Dumbledore, and a couple professors knew of your true name.
Meeting Sirius for the first time since you were a baby was a shock. In the Shrieking Shack after following Ron to save him from the dog that dragged him in, Sirius met your gaze and immediately pulled you into a hug.
‘Let her go!’ Harry yelled, not knowing what was going on and thought Sirius would kill you first. He was about to stun him off of you before Professor Lupin ran in and disarmed Harry. You ran back to Harry and Hermione’s side when you were let go.
Sirius and Remus were talking amongst themselves and you heard your father say 'Let's kill him’ before Hermione started talking. She exposed Remus’ truth to Ron and Harry.
Then all the chaotic events followed. Snape was stunned by Harry, Ron’s pet rat was actually Peter Pettigrew and was the one who had actually turned the Potters in to Voldemort, and Remus turned into a werewolf. And in between all of that, Sirius said that once everything was all said and done, he’d take you and Harry to live with him and be a family.
And for summer, you were actually able to do that. Harry stayed with the Weasleys, which was better for you as you picked the biggest room at your father’s place in Grimmauld Place. Well… it's your place as well now. Remus even moved in and you felt at home. You never wanted to leave your fathers side. The whole summer was spent catching up the past twelve years with your dad.
When you read in the newspaper what had happened at the Quidditch World cup, you were beyond scared and worried for Sirius. He could be a person of interest to Death Eaters now that they were on the move again.
Hermione wrote to you that everyone was fine, but that Harry has been having nightmares for a good duration of the summer. He hadn't mentioned anything to you, but Sirius had. His reasoning for not telling you was to prevent you from worrying even more.
Now, there were three days left until the new school year started. You hadn't done any packing and your dad noticed. “Hey love, what’s going on? We still have to get your books. It will be my first time taking you to the platform. I know you must be used to it, but it’s our first time going as a family.”
“I’m not going. I sent an owl to Professor Dumbledore that I will be skipping out on this year,” you stated as it was normal.
“No, you’re not,” he had stood in silence for a moment, but when he said that, Sirius’s voice was stern. “Y/N, you have to go. School is important.”
“Being with you is more important,” you stood up from your desk chair in your room, “I don’t want to miss out on being with you anymore. Uncle Remus said it would be fine–”
“Remus isn’t your father, I am. You’re going, so start packing.” Sirius left your room and went to check on Kreacher about dinner. You groaned and jumped face down on your bed. You thought he would be happy to spend time with you, but it turned out to be a surprise to you that he isn't.
There was a knock on your door which got you out of your bed to see who it was. Unexpectedly, it turned out to be your best friends. You gave them each a big hug, “What are you guys doing here?”
“To see you, of course,” Ron pointed out. Harry was the last one to hug you and you held on to him the longest. “Your hair grew out,” you stated. He laughed in response. Kreacher came upstairs and looked disgusted at the sight of your friends, “Kreacher is here to tell Young Mistress Black and her… friends that dinner is served.”
“Thank you Kreacher,” you sighed. He was always mean to you and spoke ill about you and your friends to the portrait of your grandmother in the halls. Sirius explained that it was just from the views that his mother passed on to every house elf that served the House of Black. Sure enough, you heard Kreacher talking to the covered portrait and your grandmother saying something about a “blood traitor granddaughter.”
Remus and Sirius were talking in the dining room in hushed tones and stopped as the four of you walked in. Sirius sat at the head of the table with Remus to his right and you to his left. When you sat down, he leaned over and whispered, “Nice try, but Remus never approved anything.”
Dinner floated from the kitchen onto the table, ready for everyone to dig in. Of course, Ron was the first to grab food and ate as he had been starved for days. “I hope everyone is alright after the games ended,” Remus started.
“We've been better, but we’re fine,” Harry spoke. You squeezed his hand and smiled at him. Harry’s always been a good friend, almost like a brother to you and it’d break your heart if anything happened to him. You were sad about skipping out the new school year, but right now, you could only worry about one person at a time and since Harry has not only Ron and Hermione but the entire Gryffindor house and Dumbledore to look after him, he should be fine.
Your father just got you back and started living a normal life again. You couldn't miss that. Not again, and he shouldn't miss out on new memories with you.
“Are you all ready for school?” you could tell what Sirius was doing. They all nodded as they ate. Hermione talked about her classes and what she was excited for. “What about you, Y/N? What classes are you taking?” the curly headed girl asked.
“Y/N says she's not going to Hogwarts this year,” Sirius butt in.
“Why?” Harry had wide eyes when he looked at you.
You cleared your throat, wiped your mouth with the cloth napkin in front of you and explained, “I just want to get to know Dad better. A couple months of summer isn't enough.”
“But you can always write to him during school,” Ron added. Sirius gave you an ‘exactly’ expression. “C’mon, Y/N/N. I hear that this year is going to be really fun,” Hermione pleaded, “I can help you pack if you need help–”
“I'm not going!” you felt bad for snapping at everyone, but your mind was made up. “Well, why not?” Harry asked.
“Because I don't want to be gone if something happens to Sirius!” Everyone at the table looked at you. There was an awkward silence, the only thing you could hear was Ron chewing his food. You abruptly stood up and went upstairs to your room.
“Excuse me,” Sirius followed after. Your door was locked so he knocked on your door, “Darling, can you open up?” The door opened, and he walked in to see that you were laying on your side on your bed facing the other way. Sirius took a seat in the open space next to you and patted your arm. “Talk to me.”
You laid in silence waiting for him to say something again. A few minutes has passed and he let out a deep sigh, “What's going on?”
“I just got my dad back, and this summers’ been great. But I'm scared that when I'm having fun with my friends at Hogwarts, you'll be vulnerable with Death Eaters out loose again,” you still faced the opposite way. He tapped your shoulder in place of vocally asking you to face him which you listened. He pulled you in for a hug and felt you crying softly. He soothed your back and hummed slightly.
You pulled away and wiped the dry tears on your cheeks. “Darling, nothings going to happen to me. I’m perfectly safe and I have Remus here with me. You have nothing to worry about, okay?” you nodded in response. “I’ll write you everyday and let you know if anything happens. Harry, too.”
“Okay. I love you, dad,” you pulled him in for another hug.
“I love you more. Now let's get you packed.”
requests open!
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emospritelet · 3 years
Text
Heatstroke - chapter 24/24
Last time, Gold confronted Zelena over trying to frame Regina, and Lacey caught the whole show on tape. This is the final chapter! Happy endings FTW!
[AO3]
x
Lacey set down the camera on the shop counter, and raised an eyebrow at Gold.
“So,” she said. “What do you want to do?”
He inclined his head, lifting a hand and letting it fall.
“It appears you have a story to tell about Miss West,” he remarked. “I feel the choice is very much yours. Perhaps Mr Glass can be persuaded that running an exposé is in the public interest.”
Lacey hesitated.
“Yeah, I think he would,” she acknowledged. “It’s just - Mayor Mills doesn’t know, does she? About Zelena.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I think maybe we should tell her,” said Lacey. “Before it all comes out, I mean. That would be the decent thing to do, wouldn’t it?”
“It would,” he agreed, and let out a heavy sigh, his head rolling back. “Well, that’s unfortunate.”
“What is?”
He raised his head again, sending her a stern look.
“It appears I’ve discovered a conscience,” he said. “The rumour was I didn’t have one. I blame you for this outrage.”
Lacey giggled, and leaned in to kiss him.
“Does that mean you’ll come with me to break the news?” she asked, and he offered his arm.
“To the Mayor’s office,” he said. “I’m sure Regina will be just delighted to see us.”
-
“This can’t be true.” Regina was staring at Lacey’s phone, having watched the recording twice. “This - this is impossible!”
“This must be a hell of a shock,” said Lacey, and Regina shook her head.
“I always thought she disliked me, but Mal told me I was being paranoid,” she said. “All this time she was plotting to ruin my life because my mother abandoned her? The nerve of the woman!”
“I guess sibling rivalry’s tough to deal with,” said Lacey. “Makes me glad I’m an only child.”
“Well, she certainly has my mother’s ambition and vindictiveness,” said Regina, with a sigh. “I don’t suppose you know anything about the father?”
“I’m afraid not,” said Gold. “Did your mother ever hint that you had a half-sister?”
Regina shook her head.
“She never spoke about her youth,” she said. “Other than to tell me she had to fight for anything she could get and I should do the same.”
She handed the phone back to Lacey and frowned at Gold.
“Exactly how long have you known about this?” she demanded, and he smiled.
“I heard what you did,” he said.
“That wasn’t what I asked,” she said coldly. “I know you, Gold. Were you holding onto this information until it was of use to you?”
“You think I’m working against you?” he asked, in a mild tone.
“I think you never do anything that doesn’t benefit you.”
“Well, perhaps you don’t know me as well as you think,” he said. “Or perhaps we assess risks and benefits differently. Either way, you have Miss French to thank for the investigation of her past and this recording. I merely - encouraged a confession.”
“Quite the sleuthing team,” said Regina, in a dry tone. “Can we expect a new office in town? French Gold, Private Investigators?”
“I don’t mind investigating his privates,” said Lacey, and Gold shot her a very level look as Regina curled her lip.
“Thanks, I’m going to spend the rest of the evening trying and failing to get that image out of my head.”
“You’re welcome,” said Lacey cheerfully.
“The question for you,” said Gold, “is how are you going to handle this? Miss French has quite a scoop on her hands, but she wanted to bring it to you first before raising it with Mr Glass.”
Regina shot Lacey a grateful look before sitting back in her chair with a sigh.
“There’s supposed to be a debate,” she said. “The two of us up on stage. You think it’s her intention to reveal the whole sordid story in front of the whole town?”
“I don’t believe she wants the rest of the town to know,” said Gold. “If they did, then her whole campaign reeks of sour grapes. She’ll want to play on the image she’s created while she’s been here. However inaccurate it is.”
Regina growled under her breath.
“I can’t believe I’m having to go through this charade!” she snapped. “I’m supposed to stand there and - and debate her when she’s trying to frame me for corruption and destroy my life!”
“We don’t have any actual evidence that she’s tried to frame you,” said Lacey, and Regina nodded impatiently.
“I know, I know. Nothing court worthy on that tape, however much she hinted at it,” she said. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to hand it over to the Sheriff, get him to look into it.”
“If you agree to an exclusive interview with me after the debate, sure,” said Lacey quickly, and almost blushed as Gold shot her an approving look. Regina drummed her fingers on the desk.
“She’s far too good for you, Gold,” she said abruptly. “I hope you know that.”
He smirked at that, winking at Lacey.
“Oh, I’m well aware.”
-
Gold was finding it hard to stop grinning like an idiot now that he and Lacey were dating, and even found himself unexpectedly granting rent extensions, much to the surprise of nervous tenants. He made dinner for her again later in the week, and she stayed the night, Darcy curled at their feet as they drifted into sleep. It was pleasant being nuzzled awake by a purring cat and finding Lacey in his arms. It was a feeling he could get used to.
They had eventually managed to finish the interview, most of which was carried out in bed, and he had found himself telling her things he had previously had no intention of revealing. He blamed that on Lacey; it was difficult to maintain his usual cool distance when she was wearing his discarded shirt and looking at him as though he was a particularly delicious snack. She kept her word about giving him the final say on the article, however, and upon reading her draft, he noted that she had kept some of the more personal details to herself. He only felt the need to redact a couple of minor points about his early life, but was happy to let the remainder stand as it was. If the rest of Storybrooke was surprised at the intimacy of the piece and his sudden desire to be open about his life - well, they could all go and fuck themselves, as far as he was concerned.
The only opinions he cared about were those of his family, and it wasn’t too long before Neal called. Gold sighed as he looked at the number flashing on his phone. They’re gonna tease me relentlessly about this. Emma especially.
Shaking his head and smirking to himself, he picked up.
“Dad, hi,” said Neal. “Thought you might have called to let us know how your big social occasion went. You’re not avoiding the issue, right?”
“Of course not,” said Gold. “Been a busy week, that’s all.”
“Uh-huh. Emma thought you’d say that.” Neal sounded amused. “She’s been dying to find out about the dance, so I said I’d call for an update.”
“Tell her she needs a better hobby than worrying about my social life,” said Gold dryly. “How’s Henry? I was wondering what to get for his birthday.”
“Nice attempt at deflection, but I’m not done with you,” said Neal. “Come on, how did it go?”
“Uh - it was fine,” said Gold.
“Did you ask Lacey to dance, like I said?”
“Yes.” Gold hesitated. “We’re - uh - sort of dating now.”
Neal whooped, making him grin.
“Way to go! See, I knew you could do it!”
“Yes, well.” Gold scratched the back of his neck, feeling awkward. “It’s early days, I suppose. Very early days, but it’s going well.”
“I am so happy for you, really. Wait until I tell Emma.”
“She’s gonna tease me, isn’t she?” said Gold dryly.
“No more than usual.”
“A lot, then.”
“Hey, her teasing comes from a place of love.”
“Hmm.” Gold was amused. “Well, you can tell her I love her too.”
“And you can tell Lacey we can’t wait to meet her,” said Neal, and Gold’s grin widened.
“I believe the feeling’s mutual,” he said.
“Good. How about in two weeks’ time?”
Gold smirked to himself.
“Excellent timing,” he said. “It’s the Mayoral debate and election.”
“I’m almost certain we can find something better to do than listen to some crusty old politicians.”
“I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised,” said Gold. “It could be an interesting night.”
-
The evening of the debate arrived more quickly than Lacey thought possible, and she was nervous about more than just reporting the evening’s events. Gold’s son and daughter-in-law were due any minute, and there was a tiny part of her that kept whispering that they wouldn’t approve, that they would wonder why the hell Gold, with his money and power and class, was dating the likes of her. Stressing over her coverage of the election was a welcome distraction from the unwelcome internal monologue, and she concentrated on getting her things together for the debate, checking the recording equipment on Gold’s kitchen table and fretting about the sound quality.
“You’ve already checked it three times,” he said. “It’s fine.”
“I’m supposed to be writing the front page article!” she snapped. “What happens if I fuck up and don’t get anything recorded? I’m gonna look like a total idiot and Sidney won’t trust me with anything more complex than the hot dog eating contest!”
“I can record everything on my phone, if you’re worried,” he said. “Besides, don’t you do shorthand?”
“Yeah, but—”
“You’ll be fine,” he said gently, and kissed her head. “I promise.”
The doorbell rang, and Lacey started, heart thumping.
“Relax, that’ll be Neal and Emma,” said Gold, heading for the door. Lacey frowned at his back.
“Relax, my arse,” she muttered, shoving the recording equipment into its bag.
There were voices from the hall, and a sudden burst of laughter, and she closed her eyes, willing herself to calm the hell down. Footsteps from the doorway made her look up, and she was greeted by a warm smile and an outstretched hand. Gold’s son had his eyes, and curling dark hair above a ready grin.
“I’m Neal,” he said. “Really pleased to meet you.”
“Lacey,” she said, shaking his hand. “Uh - likewise.”
She was reminded vividly of the fact that she had flashed him on their first encounter, and felt a blush start to rise in her cheeks. If Neal was thinking of it too, he was better at hiding it than she was. His wife was a pretty blonde, with a kind look in her eyes and a plump baby in her arms, who was glancing around curiously at everything.
“This is Emma,” added Neal, “and that’s Henry.”
“We’ve heard a lot about you,” said Emma, shooting Gold a teasing look.
“Well, I won’t ask if it was all good, because I’m willing to bet it wasn’t,” said Lacey, and they chuckled.
“Maybe not at first,” admitted Emma. “Don’t hold it against the old bastard, though.”
“Oh, believe me, the feeling was mutual,” said Lacey.
“I’m standing right here,” said Gold evenly.
Lacey caught Emma’s eye and returned her grin. She felt herself relax a little, and leaned over to kiss Gold’s cheek.
“We got there in the end,” she said. “Uh - how hungry are you guys? I didn’t even think about dinner.”
She shot Gold a look, hoping that he would suggest something, and he nodded.
“We’ll head to Granny’s after the debate,” said Gold. “I have no doubt that Lacey will be demonstrating her excellent skill as a journalist, and I’d hate for you to miss it.”
“No pressure then,” said Lacey, and he smiled.
“You’re writing the article for the Mirror front page,” he said. “You have an exclusive with the Mayor herself after the debate. Sidney Glass clearly believes you to be as capable as I do.”
“Yeah, because I got that interview with you,” she said. “I didn’t tell him we were naked when I got most of that info.”
Neal closed his eyes with a pained expression.
“Shows ingenuity if you ask me,” said Emma abruptly. “I can usually get a ton of stuff out of Neal when we’re naked. Must run in the family.”
It was Gold’s turn to look pained. Neal put his hands over his face with a heavy sigh, and Lacey and Emma chuckled. Lacey decided that she liked both Emma and Neal very much. She zipped her bag and nodded to Gold.
“Okay,” she said. “Wish me luck.”
-
The town hall was filled with residents, chatting amongst themselves and casting curious glances at the empty stage. Ruby was seated next to Leroy on the third row back, and she winked at Lacey as she and Gold took their own seats. Ruby had been delighted to hear that the two of them had started seeing one another, and had only made a salacious comment to Gold on one occasion. Maybe two.
“Big turnout,” said Neal, glancing around. “I had no idea the people in this town were so into politics.”
“Usually they don’t bother,” said Gold. “The Mayor getting some competition appears to have piqued their interest.”
As though his voice had summoned her, Regina walked onto the stage, chin held high, looking calm and competent in a sharp black suit. Zelena followed, in a green dress with a soft silk scarf around her neck and gold hoops in her ears. A green folder was tucked under her arm, her hair tied up, and Lacey thought she was going for the image of a respectable school teacher. A gleam in her eye spoiled the look.
Dr Hopper was moderating the debate, and Lacey quickly checked her recording equipment and opened her laptop, rattling off a few sentences about the tense atmosphere of the hall and the opening statements from each of the candidates. Zelena gave a speech about decency and traditional values, at which Regina seemed to be stopping herself from rolling her eyes with some difficulty. Regina spoke of her record on town planning, law and order—she shot Zelena a look at that point—and prosperity.
“Thank you, ladies,” said Dr Hopper, when she was done. “Now, perhaps we’ll go to some questions from the press before we deal with those the townsfolk have submitted.”
“I have a question for Miss West,” said Lacey, in a loud, clear voice, shoving her laptop at Gold as she got to her feet.
Zelena’s mouth twisted, her smile more of a grimace.
“Of course,” she said lightly. “It’s - uh - I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”
She waved a languid hand, and Lacey felt her mouth flatten.
“Lacey French, Storybrooke Mirror,” she said evenly, and Zelena let out a tinkling laugh.
“Of course, silly me,” she trilled. “How could I forget Storybrooke’s eager young reporter? Lending the local newspaper such an air of class in that - lovely - outfit.”
There was a muttering amongst the townsfolk, and Lacey distinctly heard Ruby say ‘What a bitch!’, but she smiled sweetly as though she hadn’t understood the insult.
“Yeah, I have a question about your motivation for running for Mayor,” she said. “You said yourself you’ve never been involved in politics, so what inspired you to make this move now?”
Zelena smiled widely.
“Well, as I said, I thought about where I could do the most good,” she said. “Storybrooke is a wonderful town, with many excellent qualities, but talking to its residents has made me realise that there’s a feeling that it may be lacking direction. I sense a need for a return to the basics of community. Neighbourliness. Family values. The traditions of small-town America that we all grew up with.”
“But you grew up in England,” said Lacey. “Wasn’t your father a diplomat? How do you know this view of America is either accurate or desirable?”
Zelena’s nostrils flared as she continued to smile brightly.
“Well,” she said. “Who’s been doing her homework?”
“Yeah, it’s just that people hear politicians mention tradition and family values, and all too often it’s a smoke-screen to hide racism and homophobia,” went on Lacey. “How would you address those concerns?”
Zelena spread her hands.
“I’d say look at my record,” she said. “Since I moved here I’ve made it clear that I’m happy to work with people of all backgrounds. It’s important that no one feels left out, and my initial conversations have led me to believe that there are concerns, and that some residents feel that their interests are not - fully appreciated - by the Mayor.”
“What kind of interests?” asked Lacey quickly, before Zelena could turn away, and her mouth twisted again as she tried to keep smiling.
“As I said, some feel that traditional family values are being lost in the push for modernity,” she said. “I’d like to reassure them that I stand for everything that Storybrooke represents. Decency. Morality.”
“Does that mean you think the Mayor is immoral?” asked Lacey, and Zelena pulled a face.
“I think there have been some questionable decisions at city hall under her watch, yes,” she said. “Does anyone really think that a seedy bar called Queens of Darkness is fitting for this town?”
“It’s a jazz club,” said Regina. “And there’ll be dance lessons each week. A perfectly respectable establishment, run by three accomplished businesswomen.”
Zelena let out that insincere laugh again, and Lacey sat down, retrieving her laptop from Gold and opening it up as Zelena addressed the room.
“Well, it’s not only the company the Mayor keeps,” she said. “We’ve all heard the rumours. Missing money, accounts not holding quite as much as people thought…”
“That’s an outrageous lie,” said Regina coldly. “Where’s your evidence, Miss West?”
Zelena smirked, as though she had been waiting for that very question. She held up the green folder, showing it to the room.
“I have the evidence right here,” she announced. “A brave employee of city hall managed to smuggle this out to me. Evidence that the Mayor has been embezzling town funds!”
There was a shocked intake of breath around the room. Lacey typed furiously.
“How dare you!” snapped Regina. “That’s a lie and you know it!”
“I believe this is my allotted time to speak!” Zelena snapped back. “I think the people of Storybrooke deserve to know exactly who you really are, don’t you? They should understand the choice before them!”
The doors at the end of the hall opened, and there was the sound of heavy boots on the floor. Zelena looked surprised, and then somewhat nervous, and a low-level muttering started up in the audience. Lacey glanced over her shoulder, watching as Sheriff Graham Humbert walked towards the stage with his deputy Dorothy Gale by his side. Regina appeared to be drumming her fingers on the lectern, and Lacey couldn’t work out whether it was anxiety or impatience.
“Miss West,” said Graham. “We’d like you to come with us, please.”
“Why?” demanded Zelena. “I’m a little busy winning this election, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“It’s a matter of obstruction of justice,” said Graham. “If you could come to the station, please.”
Zelena opened and closed her mouth, a sudden flicker of fear in her eyes.
“What if I say no?”
“I’d prefer not to have to handcuff you,” said Graham.
“But we will if we have to,” added Dorothy, folding her arms.
“This is a conspiracy!” blurted Zelena, waving a finger at Regina. “Did the Mayor put you up to this? This is exactly the kind of corruption I’m talking about! The Sheriff being used as the Mayor’s enforcer!”
“Miss West…”
“Mayor Mills will do whatever it takes to silence me!” she went on. “She’s scared I’ve exposed her for what she is!”
“Miss West, I didn’t want to have to arrest you, but…”
“One hint of competition and she calls in her - her goon squad to crush it!”
“Oh, for God’s sake, I know you’re my sister!” said Regina loudly.
Silence fell, and Lacey hurriedly typed a few sentences, describing the shocked atmosphere of the town hall. Zelena was staring at Regina, eyes wide and nostrils flaring.
“I wasn’t going to mention it,” said Regina, curling her lip. “I wanted to give you a chance to be a decent person and deal with this in an honourable way. But since you’re determined to try to ruin my life for no good reason, then yes. I’m well aware we share the same mother, and frankly she’d be disappointed at this pathetic bid for attention.”
“How dare you—”
“I believe it’s my turn to speak,” interrupted Regina. “We’ve listened to enough of your rambling this evening. Since you’d been dropping hints about corruption in my office, I had Sheriff Humbert investigate. He told me earlier this evening that someone had been planting evidence to try to frame me. No doubt that’s what he wants to speak to you about.”
“This is—”
“The residents of Storybrooke know how seriously I take my duties as Mayor,” Regina went on, addressing the room as a whole now. “They know that I value their support and their trust. Of course I’d want any threat to that to be investigated. I’m just - I’m beyond disappointed that the threat comes from my half-sister.”
Her voice echoed around the silent room. Lacey was watching the townsfolk avidly, their eyes fixed on Regina as she spoke.
“I had no idea that my mother had had a daughter before me, no idea that I had another family member out there in the world,” she went on. “Her coming to Storybrooke should have been a time of joy and reunion. But instead of her reaching out to me, she tries to undermine me, to take away the most important job I have in this town.”
She looked down, shaking her head, and Gold leaned in close.
“I wonder how much of this is for the benefit of the voters and how much is genuine,” he murmured.
“Maybe fifty-fifty,” Lacey whispered back, and he nodded in agreement.
Regina raised her head, taking a deep breath, as though steeling herself for something unpleasant. Graham and Dorothy had edged towards the stage, Dorothy removing the cuffs from her belt.
“All I can do now,” said Regina, “is trust that justice will take its course.”
“You know nothing about justice!” shouted Zelena, as the Sheriff started reading her her rights. “You’ll pay for this! All of you!”
She was still yelling when Dorothy handcuffed her and marched her from the room. The sound of the doors closing was very loud in the silence that remained.
“Well,” said Regina, placing her hands on the lectern and looking around the room. “I think we can all agree that this was one of the more - eventful - political debates this town has seen.”
There was a ripple of nervous laughter, and she smiled.
“I truly hope that Miss West gets the help she so desperately needs,” she went on. “And when she has, I want her to know that she’s welcome to visit with Mallory and I. After all, we may not be able to choose our family, but that makes it all the more important to nurture the bonds we share with those around us.”
There were noises of agreement from the audience, and Gold leaned in close again.
“Ever the politician,” he murmured, and Lacey nodded.
“Storybrooke is like an extended family to me,” went on Regina, “and all families have their moments of conflict and frustration, but underneath that there is respect for one another, and a common set of values. I believe I have lived by those values for every year that I’ve served as your Mayor. I will always reach out to those in need and I will always act in the best interests of this town. Under my leadership, Storybrooke will continue to prosper. I guarantee it.”
There was applause, and a couple of cheers, and Regina nodded, looking extremely self-satisfied. She started taking questions, and Gold kissed Lacey’s cheek and whispered that he would see her in the diner when she was done. She watched him leave with his family, Emma balancing the baby on her hip and Neal pushing the stroller after them. Lacey turned back to listen to Regina field a question about the state of the town’s roads, bent her head to her laptop, and began typing up her article on the Mayoral debate.
She emailed the article over to Sidney before leaving for the diner, and walked back there with Ruby, who was chattering about the drama that had unfolded. Regina had been in her element when answering the remaining questions, and Lacey had felt a surge of satisfaction over her part in exposing a crime. Perhaps small town life offered the chance for rewarding work after all. She could see Gold and his family through the window, and his face lit up as she entered, making her stomach flip. Damn the man. I’m falling in love with him.
“Excellent job this evening,” he said, getting up to pull her chair out and kissing her cheek. “I got you a rum and coke, I hope that’s okay.”
“Perfect,” she said fervently, and took a slurp, relishing the taste on her tongue.
“How’d the Mayor look at the end of all that?” asked Emma, and Lacey pulled a face.
“The whole place gave her a round of applause, and she was looking about as satisfied as she could, I guess,” she said. “I still feel kind of sorry for her. Not every day you find out you have a half sister. Especially one that’s out to get you.”
“Well, it could have been a lot worse,” said Gold. “I very much doubt Miss West will present much of a challenge from a jail cell.”
Lacey nodded, taking another sip of her drink.
“Does this mean you and Regina are friends now?” she asked, and Gold smirked.
“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far,” he said. “What’s that term the kids use these days?”
“Frenemies?”
“That’s the one.”
“Kind of like we were,” she observed, and he laughed.
“Regina would fillet me with a letter opener if I even contemplated looking at her the way I look at you.”
“No, I don’t mean that,” she said. “I just meant - well, we kind of had that thing where we poked at each other to get a reaction, right?”
Gold looked as though he was trying very hard not to laugh, and she swatted his arm.
“Stop thinking about dirty stuff! You know what I mean!”
“I do,” he acknowledged. “And I, for one, am very glad that we - er - got the reaction we wanted.”
“You’re still thinking about dirty stuff, aren’t you?” said Emma shrewdly, and Gold shrugged.
“Maybe a little.”
-
They ate ribs, sticky with Granny’s special sauce, licking it from their fingers and washing it down with beer and wine and rum. By the time they got out into the cool night air, Lacey felt wonderfully tipsy, and regretted putting on her high heels earlier in the evening. At least there was no one else around to see if she fell on her arse, she supposed. Neal and Emma were walking ahead, pushing the stroller and talking quietly, and Lacey let out a sigh, slipping her arm through Gold’s for support, and resting her head on his shoulder.
“I ate too much,” she said, and Gold chuckled.
“We all ate too much.”
“You didn’t throw half of it over your lap, though.”
“No, I thought I’d leave that to you.”
“Stupid gravity,” muttered Lacey, and he laughed, squeezing her arm with his.
“Tired?” he asked.
“Yeah. Long day.”
“Maybe you should have an early night.”
She glanced up at him, and he was grinning at her, his eyes twinkling.
“How’s that gonna work?” she asked flatly. “Your family’s staying over. No way I’m letting you give me screaming orgasms while they’re in the room next door.”
“In that case I could sneak over to yours,” he suggested. “You could scream to your heart’s content.”
Lacey giggled, barging him affectionately with her shoulder.
“I think I love you, Mr Gold,” she said, and Gold stopped dead, turning to face her with a stunned look on his face.
“Really?”
Lacey turned to face him, taking his hand.
“Really,” she said. “I mean I’m kind of drunk, but that’s not why I’m saying it. I think I’ve sort of been in love with you for a while now. Is that okay?”
He was staring at her, wide-eyed, and a softness seemed to spill over his features, making his eyes gleam as he smiled.
“Well,” he said. “I think I love you, too, Miss French. Is that okay?”
“More than okay.”
He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then raised his chin.
“D’you want to move in?” he asked.
“Can I bring Darcy?”
“Of course.”
“Then you got a deal.”
He was grinning, and she found herself grinning back, her heart swelling with love for him.
“Let’s wait until after Neal and Emma go before I move in, though,” she said. “I think you said something about screaming orgasms?”
Gold’s grin turned wicked, and he bent his head to kiss her.
“I’ll be over later.”
She let his lips pull at hers, leaning in to feel the warmth of his body as his arms went around her, and let out a sigh of contentment. Yes. Life in a small town could be amazing.
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perseabethj · 2 years
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i don't really have an explanation (i.)
When Percy started his senior year in yet another school, he promised himself he would try his best to make sure nothing strange happened; sure, it wasn’t really up to him monster-wise, but he could at least try not to say anything strange to his new classmates or curse in ancient Greek. Besides, the last two years had been a mess and, with his kidnapping, it was not like he had much to say when he was told to introduce himself the first day of class -‘’hey, my name is Percy Jackson, my dad is a Greek god, and I was kidnapped last year and my memories were erased; oh, and I like blue food!’’. Yeah, that probably wouldn’t work.
Thus, Percy was known as the quiet and reserved kid in his school. This was a first for him; sure, he’d never had many friends, but he was always causing trouble. This time, however, he knew that Annabeth would kill him if, for any reason, he messed this school year up and he couldn’t go to New Rome University. He made friends -a first, excluding Grover and Tyson, who didn’t really count if you kept in mind that, well, they were his protector and his brother, and a satyr and a cyclops. He didn’t tell his friends much about him -his step-dad was an English teacher, he had been expelled from way too many schools, he had ADHD and dyslexia, he was very athletic, and he was going to try and join the swim team. He made sure to exclude everything that could be linked to his other life -he didn’t talk about his summer camp, his other friends, his huge dog, his father, or his girlfriend; Percy liked how both things didn’t go together, and he felt like it made everything easier. Whenever he talked, he sounded like a normal seventeen-year-old, and he was glad about that. He had had enough of monsters for a lifetime and, even if a hydra or a hellhound bothered him every other day, he could truly say that he could see a future for him and Annabeth that didn’t include them dying in the next five months. All in all, things were good.
When his school organized a homecoming football game, however, he did invite Annabeth; she was in a boarding school in the city, but it wasn’t that hard for her to sneak out with her New York Yankees cap, and he did want her there; it was a milestone for them. After all, Percy wasn’t supposed to reach senior year. They had agreed on meeting at the school; Percy had told Annabeth he’d meet her at the entrance once she texted him that she was close, since he was already at the bleachers with his friends. He wasn’t used to having a phone yet, however, which, in his opinion, gave him an excuse as to why he wasn’t checking his texts. Moreover, his ADHD tended to slow time down for him, so he was pretty sure that he still had thirty minutes before Annabeth was supposed to arrive.
‘’I swear, man, she was the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,’’ his friend Matthew said, leaning over Kayla so he could see him.
‘’You say that about every girl you meet.’’
‘’I don’t say that about you,’’ Matthew told Kayla, who elbowed him in the ribs and, promptly, shut him up.
Percy couldn’t help but laugh at Louis’s mocking expressions behind Matthew. He’d only known these people for less than a month, but they had accepted him into their little club as soon as they’d met him and he was infinitely grateful. As Louis opened his mouth to, probably, laugh at Matthew over his ability to fall in love at first sight everyday, Matthew and Kayla stopped laughing when they looked at Percy. Percy tensed up, his hand moving to his pocket to make sure that Riptide was with him in case he needed to kill a monster, but, when a pair of arms linked themselves around his shoulders from behind, he tensed up for a whole different reason.
‘’I didn’t think I’d see you here, Jackson,’’ a female voice said playfully close to his ear.
Percy disentangled himself from her arms and turned around to stare Mary in the eye.
‘’An athlete at a football game. Who would have though, right?’’ he ironically said.
Mary rolled her eyes and rested her hand on his shoulder. Percy had to resist the urge to slap it away, but he didn’t want to cause a scene -he knew a lot about causing scenes and, with his luck, slapping her hand away would lead to a monster trying to kill him, and he didn’t want to be expelled before he could even take his first test. He didn’t know what he’d done to gain her attention -she was popular and decidedly pretty, and he was an outcast. He knew he wasn’t bad-looking -if Piper described him as a Greek god once more, he might die; Annabeth telling him that he looked exactly like his father also didn’t help, since the two times Poseidon had shown up in the past year while he was with Annabeth had always led to Percy wondering whether his girlfriend found his father attractive-, and he spent so much time swimming that one would have to be blind not to notice that he had a nice body. However, the whole school knew about his experience with being kicked out of school, since some teachers had made sure to remind him to behave during the first week of classes, and the swim team wasn’t regarded as highly as the football or the hockey team. All in all, he wasn’t a mess -unlike thirteen-year-old Percy-, but he was guarded and serious enough not to attract the attention of preppy girls. Mary, however, seemed to be obsessed with him from the day he got her phone out of the swimming pool after she dropped it while flirting with another guy in his team -‘’keep it wet, keep it wet’’, he’d had to remind himself-, and he regretted being a nice guy ever since then. Honestly, if his mom hadn’t raised him to be such a good kid, most of the problems in his life wouldn’t have happened.
‘’You could sit with us if you wanted,’’ Mary told him, signaling to her girl friends.
Percy knew the invitation only extended to him and not to his friends, who were quiet during the conversation. They had been at that school for three years, so they knew Mary and her gang, and Percy knew they sometimes wondered why he didn’t drop them for the popular kids. He also knew that he would rather face the Minotaur again than sit with the popular kids.
‘’I’m quite happy where I am, thanks,’’ he politely answered, trying to end the chat before he said anything rude.
‘’But you would have more fun with us, I’m sure,’’ Mary insisted, running her finger down his arm.
In moments like this, he almost missed being the young kid he was when he first arrived to camp, skinny and short and with a voice way too high for anyone to consider him a man.
‘’No, thanks,’’ he said again, using his other arm to take his phone out of his pocket, hoping Annabeth wouldn’t take much longer. ‘’Besides, I’m waiting-‘’
‘’Perseus Jackson!’’
‘’Man, I am going to need a massage after this’’, he though as he tensed again. He noticed his friends drive their attention away from Mary, who had also looked towards the origin of the voice with furrowed brows, her finger still on Percy’s arm. Before turning around, Percy quickly looked at the time on his phone, silently cursing in Greek as he saw the multiple texts and missed calls that he clearly hadn’t heard.
‘’Why is there a beautiful blonde goddess walking towards Percy, yelling his full name and looking like she wants to kill him?’’ Matthew quietly asked, forcing Percy to stifle a laugh.
He turned around slowly, half-expecting her to have a dagger at his neck. She was still far enough for him to be able to think of a few excuses, but he knew that wouldn’t work. Man, he had been offended the first time she’d called him Seaweed Brain, but she’d really hit the nail on the head.
‘’I can explain,’’ he said while she was still a few metres away.
‘’Explain, then,’’ she told him, now standing in full height before him. He was quite taller than her, but a standing Annabeth with folded arms and a stormy look in her eyes before a sitting Percy who knew he’d messed up was definitely scary.
‘’I…’’ he started. ‘’I didn’t think I’d get this far, honestly. I think this might be the first time you let me explain and I’m not ready for this responsibility.’’
He knew that was the right answer -her eyes were now shining with mirth and he could tell he was holding back a smile. She still had her arms crossed, but he figured she wasn’t going to kill him in front of so many people, so he tugged at them and forced her to sit next to him before he could regret it.
‘’I really thought it was earlier. You know how I am with the time, and I’m still not used to the phone.’’
She finally unfolded her arms and shook her head as she smiled softly, and Percy knew she wasn’t mad any longer.
‘’The fact that I have experience navigating labyrinths doesn’t mean that I want to navigate your high school, Seaweed Brain,’’ she told him.
‘’Completely understandable, Wise Girl.’’
He threw his arm around her shoulder, all his previous conversations forgotten, and he was about to ask her about her day when another voice interrupted him.
‘’Excuse me, Percy, but who is this?’’ Mary asked from behind him.
Annabeth turned around, a fake smile on her lips as she took in the brunette girl sitting behind her.
‘’His girlfriend,’’ Annabeth said. ‘’Nice to meet you.’’
She offered Mary her hand, though still wrapped around Percy’s arm, and Mary took it automatically, a shocked expression on her face. Her friends looked back between her and Annabeth, equally confused.
‘’His girlfriend?’’ Matthew whisper-yelled.
Both Louis and Kayla nudged him with their elbows, earning a laugh from Percy, which made Annabeth look at them with a raised eyebrow.
‘’Guys, this is Annabeth, my girlfriend,’’ Percy introduced. ‘’Beth, these are Kayla, Matthew and Louis.’’
‘’You’ve mentioned them,’’ Annabeth said, extending her hand and offering a real smile. ‘’It’s nice to meet you. Anybody who manages to put up with Percy deserves to be admired.’’
‘’Hey!’’ Percy whined.
His friends sat there, flabbergasted, but he didn’t really mind. Sure, he could have told them in advance, but he also didn’t think it was that important that he had a girlfriend; he was not the first guy in school to have one, and he definitely wouldn’t be the last.
He didn’t have time to talk any more before the game started, but he did manage to hear Matthew whispering to Kayla and Louis as the players made it to the field.
‘’So not only is Percy the hottest guy at school, but he’s also dating the hottest girl in New York? How is that fair?’’
Percy smiled softly and pressed Annabeth closer to him, enjoying her warmth and having her next to him. This was how things were supposed to be.
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ellana-ravenwood · 4 years
Text
The day he understood what Death means - Batfam x Fem!Reader
Synopsis : The youngest Wayne makes a shocking discovery...And will need his parents, siblings, and the one and only Alfred, to recover from it. /Drabble.
I don’t know. I was thinking about this. How when you’re a kid, realizing that one day you’ll die, but worst, that the people you love will die, is sort of traumatic...And wanted to write about it. So. Here we are, with little Thomas eh. I hope you will like it :) :
My masterlists blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives​
__________________________________________________
If you have no idea who Thomas is, he appears in those stories (long story short he’s the youngest kiddo, biological of Batmom and Bruce) : The Great Mall adventure, Master of Diaper Shaky steps and bad teaching, Polichinelle, “Go away, you’re confusing my baby”, Wild Child 2, “We want them back”, How do you make babies ?“ and Mom got lost again”
                                                   ******
Realizing your loved ones are not immortal for the first time can be traumatic. 
Especially if they’re amazing, if they’re your heroes, if you admire them beyond all measure, if they love you unconditionally just like you love them so damn much, and if you can’t even imagine your life without seeing them every day.
If you can’t even fathom the fact that maybe, one day, they won’t be there when you wake up and go look for them. And that they will never be there again. 
And so it was particularly quite the shocking discovery for little Thomas Clark Wayne, 5 and a half years old, to find out about that certain thing called...”Death”. 
It happened on a moody, rainy Summer day. The weather outside was awful, even for Gotham City. And it meant that Thomas was calmly playing inside, rather than getting up to some shenanigans in the garden. 
His parents were home, it was one of those rare day they both had off. 
Which always filled little Tommy with joy. It wasn’t often he could get them both with him !! In the end, the fact it was rainy outside was good. It meant they’d probably all snuggle up later in the day, and watch a film, a mug of hot cocoa in their hands. 
You would probably throw a blanket over him, and keep him close, sandwiched between you and his dad. His father would fall asleep half-way through the film, which would annoy you and Damian. 
Damian would join for sure. Sitting next to you. Yes. He would. Maybe Tim too, if he wasn’t too busy with college ? Oh he would surely make the time to come. And Cass ? Yes. Yes Cass would be there, sitting in her usual spot, on the floor right in front of you (or maybe Tommy). Because she knew you’d gently run your hand through her hair, and your youngest son slowly took the habit to do the same. Which was so soothing to Cass...Duke would certainly be there, he never said no to a good movie. 
Maybe, because it was a rainy day, Dick and Jason would come too ? Unlikely, but Thomas could hope. He loved having his entire family in one spot. 
They’d ask him to do his “puppy eyes” and convince Alfred to join them too, and not work. 
Alfred had an armchair reserved just for him. Right next to the couch where Bruce would sit, leaving enough space for Ace to lay down (Damian’s dog, Titus, always preferred to be near his master, who would more often than not be sitting next to you, laying his head on your shoulder, even as he was not a child anymore...Yes, Titus sat next to Cass, at Damian’s feet, letting his head fall down in Cass’ laps). 
Ace...Ace didn’t feel well yesterday, and this morning, the “dog doctor” came. 
Thomas heard him say they needed to give him a...an “indection” or something ? (An injection, really) So he’d probably get better. Shots were supposed to get you better or to avoid you getting sick, that’s what you told him. 
His dad looked upset, but it didn’t alarm Thomas much. Because his dad was always upset when him or his siblings would get a shot, he hated going, so it was probably the same thing. 
Come to think of it, Thomas hadn’t seen Ace since the “vekerinarianan” (or whatever it was pronounced) came earlier in the day. 
He suddenly wanted some “doggle” (dog cuddles), and so he put down the toys he was playing with, and went to look for him. 
Maybe, he could also round up the rest of his family so they’d start movie time earlier ? 
Hyped to have some family time, as he considered his dogs family for sure, he went on the hunt to find Ace, and gather everyone else. 
If only. If only he had known...
************
“Aaaace !! Aaace ? Ace boy, where are you ?” 
This was odd. Usually, Ace would come running if he heard the little one’s voice. That dog loved children, and he made it his mission to protect all of them (bonus point if he had some snuggle, and a few treats, while doing it). 
Bruce told him long ago to protect his kids...So Ace was always there. 
Maybe he wanted to play hide and seek ? Thomas would play that game with Titus and Damian, Ace never seemed very interested, but maybe he changed his mind ? 
“Ace ? Aaaacceeee ?” 
The boy roamed the manor, but every room Ace would usually hang in were empty. 
Finally, he decided he’d ask his parents, who would usually hang out in...oh, they weren’t in their usual spot either. In their bedroom, maybe ? 
Thomas ran as fast as his little legs could carry him, sure that he would find Ace, and his parents, asleep in the master’s bedroom. When they had their day off, his mama and daddy would often take long naps together.  
Thomas immediately knew something was wrong when the door to the room was wide open. Slowly, he approached the place and...surely his parents were there. 
But something was off. 
His dad was laying in the bed, back to the door, his head laid in your lap. One of your hand was caressing his head soothingly, while the other was drawing calming circles on his back. 
Definitely something was not normal. You’d do that to your kids when they were sad, or sick...Was daddy sick ?! This gave Thomas a little fright. 
You whisper something into Bruce’s ears, and he doesn’t answer, just shaking his head to say “yes”. And so you stand up, after giving him a kiss on the cheek, and...You spot your youngest son. 
You smiled at him reassuringly, and go to him. 
“Hey little buddy. You should give a big hug to Daddy, he’s very sad today.” 
You say, walking past him and ruffling his hair. 
From the direction you were taking, you were going to the kitchen, and Thomas just instantly assumed you were going to brew some tea for his dad. When Bruce was sad, you’d always brew some tea for him, from his mother’s garden (which was kept up nice and clean by you and Alfred, now). 
Worried about his dad, Thomas slowly walked to him and climbed on the big bed. Bruce turned around to see what this new weight was, as he knew you had just left and...He smiled. 
Of this wide pure genuine smile he gave his family only. 
But there was a hint of sadness behind his eyes, and Thomas didn’t like that one bit. So the little boy crawled to his dad, and nestled next to him, wrapping his little arms around his dad’s neck and holding tightly. 
Bruce engulfed his son in his own arms, holding onto the little one, burrying his face in his hair. There was always something comforting, in the smell his kiddo had. It was a mix of your smell, which was always soothing to him, but also something more...Something soft and sweet. 
Just like his son. 
Little Thomas was the epitome of a sweet child. It was a miracle, a man like him made a child this cute and happy. Ah, but he wasn’t raising him alone of course. There was you, and his siblings, and Alfred... 
After a pause of the little boy holding his dad, he whispered slowly : 
“Daddy, why are you sad Daddy ? Please don’t be sad, it makes me sad too.”
Thomas unwrapped his arms from around his dad’s neck, and squished his little hands on Bruce’s cheeks. Which made Bruce sigh fondly, chuckling a little as he said, honestly (he shouldn’t hide this sort of things) : 
“Because Ace is gone.”  
There’s another silence, during which Thomas tries to understand why is the fact Ace went somewhere so sad. He cannot figure it out, so he asks : 
“But, he’ll come back daddy. Like always. Yes ? Ace is a good boy.” 
“Was.”
Bruce is clumsy in his grief. He always been. He’s not sure how to broach the subject to his son, how to explain to him their dog was just too old and sick to make it...He doesn’t know how to explain death to him. 
“Was ?” 
“Ace is gone for good.” 
“What do you mean Daddy ? Where did he go ? Why couldn’t we see him again ? Did he move out, like Dick ?” 
Oh. Oh the sweet innocence of a child that is maybe a little too sheltered by his family (he’s the youngest, the one they’re trying to keep away from the horror they see every day as much as they can...Although he’s still trained, all of them hope he will never become a Robin, or worst, a Batman). 
“Did he move out, like Dick ?” 
Sweet, sweet Thomas. Not able to even fathom that Ace is never coming back...and why would he ? How could he know what his father meant ? 
“No, no he didn't move out. He left us, to a place we can’t follow him to.” 
Another short pause. And you could see the gears in little Thomas’ head turning. After a little bit, he asks :
“...The toilets ?”
This makes his father chuckle, even in this sad times. But he continues : 
“No. Not the toilets. He...He went really far away, where we can’t ever see him again.” 
This idea is so foreign to your son, that he raises himself on one of his elbow and exclaims : 
“Why would he do that ? Does he not love us anymore ?” 
Obviously, the thought is distressing to the little bird. So Bruce says : 
“No no no, of course he still loves us...loved, us. But he had to go.”
“But why ?” 
“Because he was getting very old, and sick.”
“But we don't mind daddy, right ? We don’t mind ? He doesn't have to go away for that, I don’t care if he doesn’t play like he used to, I want him to stay ! Tell him daddy, call him on the phone to tell him to come back.” 
Bruce is lost. How ? How can he explains what death means ? He thought about this moment coming many times, but never told him anything as he thought that he had time to know what it meant. He had time...
How do you tell a child that one of his favorite “person” in the world is dead ?
“Unfortunately buddy, we have some sad news.”
His savior. You, as usual. With two cups of tea, and a cup of hot cocoa on a tray. As you went downstairs to get some “pick me up” for Bruce, you knew your son was gonna need it too. 
“What news mama ?” 
“Ace. He died today.” 
You actually thought about it as you were preparing everything for them. How to talk about this ? You decided to go with “honesty”. Not brutal honesty though. You weren’t about to traumatize your son. 
But you thought it was important he knew what happened to Ace. As a child, you hated how your brothers tried to make you think your ferret ran away to Las Vegas or something of the like. 
You understood this sentiment, of course. But you also remembered how betrayed you felt when you finally understood “death” and realized your beloved Mister Will Ferret was NOT in Sin City having fun, but just died...
The truth was important. 
Especially about such subjects. 
Children weren’t dumb. And they had every right to know certain truth.
Did you wish your son could stay innocent for longer ? Of course. But he still had a right to know what happened to his dog. To be treated like a person and be explained things. 
People, too often, treats children as some kind of idiots who wouldn’t comprehend complex things anyway, and who have to be protected at all cost from anything...
Kids were clever. You had a bunch of them to prove it so. But above that, although you agreed kids had to be protected...You weren't one of those person who thought you should lie to your children in order to do so. 
 Because one day, he’ll know what death is. He’ll know what happened to Ace. And what if the fact you lied that day, settles a slight distrust in him towards anything you’ll ever tell him ? Just like it did with you and your brothers ? 
No. You thought at first it was a good idea to delay such a conversation. But why ? Because it would make you more comfortable ? That didn’t sound very fair in regard of your boy.
Everyone always talked about “the birds and the bees” talk, but never about something that was even more inescapable than that...
Death. 
You give him a few seconds to take in your words. “Ace died today.” You wait for his reaction. He seems to think about it, having vaguely heard of “death” before...finally he asks : 
“What does it mean ?” 
He’s sitting up in the bed now. Bruce did the same, encircling his arms around his boy protectively (old habits die hard). But he’s determined to explain things to him too. You and Bruce were always rather in sync, about how you should raise your children. 
“It means he will no longer be with us. He passed away to something else.” 
“To what ?” 
“No one really knows.” 
“Will we see him again ?” 
“No.” 
“Why ?”
“Because he’s dead.” 
“And being dead means you can’t see anyone anymore ?”
“Being dead means you are not living on this Earth anymore, so yes, you cannot see them anymore.” 
“It means we can’t see him ? And what do you mean not on Earth ? Is he in Space ? Can we see him if we go to the watchtower ?” 
“I mean in our life, we will not see Ace again. He won’t be with us ever again. He’s not in space, he’s just gone.” 
“Because he’s dead ?” 
“Because he’s dead.” 
“So, being dead means we don’t get to see someone ever again ?” 
“Yes.” 
“Ever ever ?” 
You decide to leave any conversations about a possible after-life aside, as it’s clear this, he’s not quite old enough to comprehend. So you keep on talking about the truth, with the support of Bruce. 
“Yes. Ever ever.” 
It takes Thomas a few minutes to take in all those new informations. Bruce is sitting on the bed, legs crossed, behind the boy. And your son is clearly lost in deep thoughts...Up until finally, finally tears are starting to well up in his eyes. 
“But I didn’t even say goodbye !”
“Unfortunately, we don’t always get to say goodbye...” 
“But mama, how will he know I loved him so much if I didn’t even say goodbye before he left ? How could you let him go before I did ?”
“I’m sorry, if I could chose I would’ve-...He knew you loved him and-”
“Are you going to die too ?!”
The dreaded question. Dreadest of them all, really. But you can’t lie to him. Not now that you started to explain things. 
“Yes. Everyone dies one day.” 
“But but but...but I don’t want you to die ! And Daddy ?” 
Bruce nods, and...and that’s when it finally happens. 
The awful moments your sweet innocent boy realizes what death sort-of means. That one day, none of his parents will be in his life anymore. Than one day, he’ll lose his siblings, and Alfred. 
Just like he lost Ace. Because he was “old and sick”. But...Thomas knew a lot of sick people ! And a lot of old people ! Were they going to die too, without him being able to say goodbye ?!
And so the tears started to fall. And oh, oh did they fall. 
Bruce held his son against his heart, drawing soothing circles on his back, just like you usually do. And you came to sit next to them, encircling them in your arms as well. 
Thomas was trying to talk, but nothing came out very clearly as he cried, cried, cried and cried some more. 
When he finally calmed down, he was slowly falling asleep, crying drained him of all his energy. That night, there was no “movie time”, but comforting snuggles with his parents... 
Thomas had finally discover what “Death” meant.
************
“Oh my God Thomas !”
Bruce’s heart drops.
The entire scene goes in slow motion, and the fearless Batman can see his entire life flash in front of his eyes, as his tiny son is running towards him, while a few thugs were about to shoot automatic weapons at him...
“There’s a kid ! There’s a kid !”
“Who cares, we have the bat right at our mercy, just shoot !”
“I can’t shoot a kid...”
“Should we shoot ?”
The few seconds of surprise after Thomas bursted in allow Damian to swoop down, and to get rid of everyone. Slowly, a serious face on, your son walks to his dad and, solemnly, he says :
“This was too close, father. And...Thomas...”
“I know Damian, I know.”
Your little boy was inconsolable, clinging to his dad.
They didn’t even have to ask him how he got there. It was obvious he somehow snuck into the Batmobile (which wasn’t that much of a surprise, although it was already quite a feat...Thomas was small, but also very stealthy, as he was taught to be).
He was only five, and it wasn’t really clear to him yet his dad was that “Batman” everyone talked about, that his siblings were also vigilantes...But he knew that when they went out at night, they were often in danger.
And that night. That night right after the one Thomas learned what Death was...He snuck in the car, so he would make sure “she” would not take her dad away ! Or her brothers and sister !
Only Damian and Bruce were in the car, on patrol together. The rest of the kids were scattered across the city, and you were taking care of the bat computer (nowadays you were the one doing so to give some relief to Alfred).
Thomas took the habit to fall asleep in the cave, in a bed there just for him...and he must’ve snuck into the car. 
It was nobody’s fault. It was very unlike the boy, to do such a thing.
He got into the car. When Damian and his father got out of it to apprehend a few of Two-Face’s thug, he stayed behind, looking at what they did...but when he saw those men about to shoot his dad (a proper ambush), he jumped out, punching every buttons (which was quite dangerous itself) to find which one opened the door, and then he ran to his dad...
The surprised probably saved Bruce. But it also almost killed him with a heart attack. 
What if those men didn’t hesitate long enough for Damian to take care of them ? What if they shot anyway, ignoring the surprising appearance of a small child ? What if they had recognize who that kid was, too ? (Unlikely, this was a time where Thomas was still quite sheltered from media, as you tried to give him a childhood as normal as you all possibly could). 
What if they shot anyway...
Bruce doesn’t think he would’ve survived the death of his youngest son. He was sure, actually, that he would’ve killed those men. 
That is, if Damian didn’t do it first. 
But it didn’t happen. It didn’t happen, but it was so close. So close. 
Later, when everything calmed down, Thomas would explain he jumped in the car to “keep death away”, to protect his daddy and brother. To make sure Death wouldn’t take them. 
And that's when you all understood Ace’s death, and the discovery that everyone dies one day, one way or another, truly was “traumatic” for your baby. 
From that point on, you made sure that Thomas would be in the cave...but this event. This event really unfolded a problem you knew you’d have to tackle truly one day. 
You just had no idea yet how to help your son. 
************
Damian had told Jason the debacle that was yesterday. About his parents explaining to their little brother what it meant to be dead. And about how it lead to Thomas sneaking into the Batmobile and running in front of danger to “protect” his dad. 
Because of where he grew up, Damian always knew what death meant. And he never cared much (or convinced himself he never cared much). He understood from a very young age what all this shenanigans was...
Jason did too. He found his mother, dead, when he was three years old. He grew up surrounded by death, in the gutter of Gotham. He knew. He did. 
But Thomas. 
Thomas was a “normal” 5 years old boy, as normal you can be in such a family. He trained a little, and sort of knew about his dad being “Batman” (but it seemed he didn’t understand he was ACTUALLY the Batman people talked about in the city). 
He spend most of his nights in a little area made just for him, with a bed and such, in the batcave (he hated sleeping upstairs alone, so he would sleep in the batcave and you’d pick him up to bring him in  his bed once you’d go to bed, and/or once the rest of your family would get home). 
So for a little one like Thomas, who was pure and sweet and nice...It was a shock, to know one day he’d lose the people he loved. 
He was inconsolable, at Ace’s funerals (thrown at the back of the Manor).  
He couldn’t get over the fact he didn’t get to say goodbye, and that he would never play with his dog anymore. 
It made it worst, that Ace’s death made everyone else sad. That dog truly was a member of the family... 
“I know you're feeling very sad. I'm sad, too. We all loved Ace so much, and he oved us, too.”
You told him a few times, tryin to put words on his emotions and helping him understand...God, to Damian, you truly were the most amazing mother. Always knew what to say, how to say it, when to say it.  
But Thomas was still blue, and it was so unlike his usual bubbly personality. 
And so, both Damian and Jason made it their mission to distract their little brother, and...it worked. For the most part. It really worked. 
Amongst all his siblings, Damian and Jason were the ones that loved having a little brother the most. Not that the others didn’t, of course ! They just were a little less willing to play for hours on end with a little kid. 
They were rather busy. Jason and Damian always found ways...They were an unlikely pairs at first glance. Most people would think Damian was the closest to Dick, and Jason too. But no. They were equally as close to all their siblings, in different ways. 
But Damian and Jason, they had an extra connection. Jason was there, when Damian was a baby. He didn’t remember his own name, and was used by the Al’Ghuls after they resurrected him...But he was still one of the only person in Damian’s life that truly valued him. 
Fate, right ? A funny thing. After all, how small did the world have to be for two of Bruce’s sons to meet in such a way ? A hidden son, and one he thought dead, at that ?! 
In any case. They were closer than most would think. And they also were linked not only by the Al’Ghuls, but by how they were both ripped off of an actual childhood, and therefor wanted to make sure their little brother had one too (Cass was the same, but more subtle, and discreet). 
And so...
They played, made art pieces, jigsaw puzzles, watched his favorite movies, cooked...Anything to take his mind off of “Death”. 
That little boy would overthink too much, for such a young age. 
But overall, Damian and Jason did a good job distracting him from the pain. 
They did an amazing job. 
You were so proud of how they took care of their baby brother (and it would give yourself more time to go cheer up the “Oldest Wayne”, your dear husband, who definitely had a hard time getting over his dog’s death...). 
Only, there was one problem...And that problem was that neither Damian nor Jason, just like everyone else, were immortal. 
And this, this, Thomas would realize very soon. 
************
“More compresses, Master Tim !” 
“On it Al !” 
The loud noises woke Thomas up. You knew. You knew you should’ve gone up to bed earlier. Tuck him in, and wait for your family to come back. 
Ah. But when they all arrived in the cave, ALL of them, including Dick who did not live at the manor anymore...You knew there was a problem. 
And indeed. Jason had been badly hurt. Not something that couldn’t be fixed, but ah, once again, too damn close. 
Everyone was on the tail of a high profile serial killer, the newcomer called “Dr Pyg”, and...Collateral damage. It happened, in this line of work. 
It wasn’t easy. Especially when it was one of your baby. But you had to keep a leveled head, as you helped Alfred fix your boy. 
You had taken medical trainings early in in your relationship with Bruce. For obvious reasons. And there was rarely a day it didn’t come in handy. 
In any case, all the noises around woke Thomas up. 
Before. Before he knew what death truly meant, he would’ve been worried. He would've cried. He would’ve been distressed. Of course. 
And one of his siblings would’ve taken care of him, reassure him, soothe and console him, and little Thomas would be ok again. 
Before he knew what death truly meant. 
He was so small anyway, most of the time he’d forget things, or just not understand them...but he was five now. Close to the age of reason. And definitely aware of his surroundings enough now to pay attention, and remember things. 
And he knew what death truly meant. 
He clung to Jason for dear life, even as everyone reassured him he was actually ok. Jason himself was conscious, he had been badly hurt but nothing he hadn’t seen before. 
He needed some rest for sure, but it was fine, really. 
It wasn’t fine for Thomas. He yelled, threw the biggest tantrum he ever threw, yelled some more that they should stop. That he didn’t want them to die. That whatever they were doing...He begged them to stop. 
Never before in your life, had any of you witness Thomas being in such a state. He was inconsolable. You couldn’t calm him down, no matter what...
And once more, it’s only because of exhaustion that he finally relaxed. But yet, still in his sleep, he clung to Jason’s sleeve, as if afraid his brother would be gone when he’d wake up. 
It tore yours and Bruce’s heart apart, to see your baby like this. But to be honest...neither of you knew what to do...
************
“Where’s Damian mama ? Where is he ?” 
Thomas was truly panicked. 
The first day, he thought maybe his brother was busy with school and such. The second day, he started to worry. But now ? Three days in a row with Damian not at the dinner table ? Or in his room ? Or in the batcave ?! 
It made Thomas anxious. What happened to his brother ? Was he...was he...DID DEATH TAKE HIM AWAY ? 
“Where’s Dami mama ? Where is he ?!”  Thomas kept asking, crying. And it took you moment to finally realize what your son must’ve thought. When you did, you picked him up and calmed him down, explaining Damian was simply over at Jon’s for a few days... 
And from that day on, you’d make sure to tell him why anyone would be gone for any amount of time. 
That night, Bruce and you talked about what you could do to help Thomas get over his consuming fear of losing one of you. 
But nothing really came to your minds. 
And it was awful, to feel like a failure like that. 
Later on, your Damian would tell you you were NOT failing at parents because you were a little lost about this. After all, none of your other kids got into quite a crisis like this one. He said maybe considering a therapist could do ? But oh, oh Thomas was so little. 
And if words were out that Thomas Wayne, barely five years old, was seeing a therapist ? The scandals would be unending, and would it really help your son ? 
Damian joined in in the search for a way to soothe his baby brother. He never said “no” to cuddles from him, but lately...Lately, Thomas almost became overbearing, as he made sure he’d always sort of have his eyes on everyone. 
And it wasn’t healthy, for such a little boy to worry so much. 
Damian missed his carefree baby brother. He knew he had to eventually grow up, of course, and that he’d have some hardships but...he was just five and a half ! He wasn’t suppose to be so scared of death ! 
And so he thought, nights and days, of a way to soothe him. But just like you and Bruce, this matter was quite delicate...
************
It seemed like Cass was the only one able to truly console him, and make him relax. She would sing him songs, just like you did to her when she felt sad. 
She would tell him tales of Death as a good thing, inspiring herself from many legends from around the world. 
She would try to put perspective on everything, in a way you truly admired. 
She never spoke too much, your Cass...But when she did, every words were carefully chosen and crafted into truly beautiful things. 
And it would soothe your boy. 
But only as long as he was with Cass. And he couldn’t always be with her. 
You didn’t have her talent to tell those tales, and your singing was working only for a few moments to put him to sleep but...you couldn’t always have him sleep. You had to think of more viable options. 
Nonetheless, when Thomas was really too anxious, Cass would be there. 
Relieving everyone of their worry, as she could calm her baby brother in matter of seconds. In those  moments, you wished time could stop. You truly did...
************
Thomas would cling to you and his dad the most. His siblings were often out and about, but you two ? Well you took some time off to be with your youngest son, to be there for him in this odd times...
And you weren’t sure it was such a good idea, in the end. 
He would often just snuggle up to you or Bruce, listening to your heartbeats, which would calm him...You’d normally never say no to hugs from your children. But this was all starting to become so unhealthy for the little one. 
What could you do ? What could you do ?!
************
Duke was panicking. 
Thomas was doing fine today, and Duke felt like he royally fucked up. 
Thomas was worried about Duke, telling him to be careful and that his heart would break if Duke ever died...Which melted Duke’s heart. 
It made him feel so loved and accepted. And he wanted to help little Thomas so much...
That’s when he made a rookie mistake. 
After all, he was still quite new at this “big brother” thing. 
“There are things worst than death.” 
Is what he told him. What was he thinking ? Reflecting on things, Duke realized he didn't think it through. To him, it was a soothing way to say death wasn’t that bad. But...Ah, ah it made Thomas cry. 
“What ? What is worst than not seeing you guys ever again ?!”  
At that moment, Duke hadn’t realized quite yet how much he fucked up. So he said : “Well, my parents can't remember me, can’t remember who they are...They’re not dead, but they’re not here anymore. They’re physically here, but they don’t know me, they don’t know how to hug me, they can’t be my parents anymore...Yet they’re still alive.” 
The horrified look on Thomas’ face is what gave him a hint that this really wasn’t a good thing to say...
“No no no wait Thomas, don’t cry please, I was trying to tell you...Wait Thomas, please, no. Oooh buddy, buddy I’m so sorry.” 
It almost made Duke cry too, to witness the one he considered his little brother in such distress. He wasn’t trained for this ! He wasn’t trained for this !!!
This was the first time Duke truly felt like an older brother, truly felt like he understood this important role. He had to think before saying something. He had to protect his baby brother. He had to find ways to soothe him...
“Ok here we are, here we are everything is a-okay, you’re ok, things will be ok...” 
Duke picked Thomas up, and started to rock him back and forth slowly, just like his own mom did to him...He mixed the way his mom used to put him to sleep, with your soothing singing. With words he borrowed from you. 
“I’m here, I’m here. Don’t worry I’m here, I won’t go anywhere. Things will be ok baby boy, things will be ok. You’re gonna be ok. I’m not going anywhere. I didn’t mean any of it...” 
Duke had been living with you for a while now. He came to see all of you as his second family, even as his parents were still alive, and a constant chain holding him back at times...a chain that broke right at this moment. 
Thomas was his little brother. He truly was. 
And Duke was determined to be there for him. Especially after he made him cry. 
“It’s ok Tommy, cry all you want. It’s ok to cry. It’s ok to cry.” 
You always told him that. It was ok to cry. To be angry. To want to break everything. To want his mom...
But you were his mom too now. You were. And you had such a way with words. Such a soothing touch. Even as he was grown up now, you always knew what to say. You always did. 
“You’re ok, right ? Yeaaaah you’re ok. See, things are fine, we chill, we chill.” 
Duke was slowly swaying from left to right, Thomas in his arm, slowly lulling him to sleep, calming him down. His voice seemed to have the same effect than yours...Because he was calm. And because he meant it.
The love. 
The love he had for this little boy. 
It poured out of him, easily, naturally. 
He loved that kid so much. And he wanted him to be ok. And it seemed like Thomas ? Thomas felt it. He felt the love. Just like Duke felt the love of all of you...
That little bean put himself in such a state at the mere thought of Duke dying, of one of his brother leaving...And Duke. Duke realized he felt the same. 
Couldn’t imagine any of them dying. 
And so he poured love in his every word, and swayed from side to side, calming Thomas, and making sure he knew...He knew that, he was right there. 
Right there. 
************
“You’re getting old, Alfred.” 
You said jokingly, as you beat him at chess. And oh. Oh what a mistake you just did. 
“Old ? I don’t want you to die Alfred, I don’t !” 
Thomas was playing next to you. You hadn’t thought about his “trauma” for a little while as he seemed to feel a little better lately...But oh, he plunged right back into it there. 
Because of you. You felt absolutely awful...
“I’ll fight Death for you Alfred ! I will ! I won’t let her take you !!” 
It took a while, as it became usual now, to calm him down. He was ready to throw hands with Death. Fierce that no one would take his “grandpa”. But he was still very scared and sad...
“I’m a terrible mother...”
You told Bruce that night. And he held you against him, consoling you, saying it wasn’t your fault and that it was just friendly banter with Alfred as usual...
“You are the literal opposite of a terrible mother, my love.”
“But Broosh, I made him- I-” 
You sniff, unable to control your sobs as you remember your poor little boy holding Alfred and yelling at Death she can’t take him. The poor butler himself didn’t even know how he could do anything to calm him down...
“We’ll find a solution my love, we’ll find a solution...” 
This entire night, Bruce stayed up although he was exhausted, so he could soothe you and take care of you. Skipping patrol (knowing though the city was safe with his children out). 
At some point during the night, Thomas came to your room. 
It was often, lately, that after a nightmare he’d come running to you. His nightmares would often be about losing you...
You had finally fallen asleep, in your husband’s arms, and Bruce gestured to your boy to not make too much noice. 
Sweet little Thomas acquiesced, and slowly came to the bed, taking the hand his father gave him. 
Bruce was about to fall asleep too, knowing you had finally found sleep...But now, he wasn’t going to. Not until he made sure his son was asleep as well. 
All he could do for now, was being there for you two. Try to soothe you as best her could. As best he could...
Sleep was restless and full of nightmares. 
************
Dick would try to often visit his parents and siblings. As much as he could, which wasn’t always easy, with his work in Bludhäven. But nothing is more sacred than family...He realized that over the years.
During those moments, it would be rather normal for Thomas to go settle in his oldest brother’s laps. He would make the most of seeing him.
So today, as Dick was in the kitchen trying to make himself a cup of coffee, it was no surprise when little Tommy came to see him.
You had bought a new espresso machine, and Dick had no idea how it worked...Slowly, his littlest brother came in, dragged a chair next to him, and used it to climb on the counter.
He then started to make Dick’s cup of coffee, without much of a word being exchanged. Dick smiled widely, his little bro was so cute and clever. In no time, he had make a great cup of coffee for him.
But...Something seemed to bother him. Tommy was an exuberant child when around his family, but he had been quiet right there. He didn’t jump in his brother’s arms like he usually does, and he wasn’t telling him all about what he missed since last time he came in !
Was it still this all thing about being worried about death ? 
“Are you ok little wing ?”
Ever since Jason, “Little Wing” or “Bird” became the common denomination for his younger siblings. A term of endearment that they all (secretly or not) loved.
Tommy seemed to think a little, while raising his arms, signifying he wanted Dick to pick him up.
Dick did, of course, and they went to sit at the kitchen counter, and as usual, Tommy settled down on Dick’s laps. He turned around and, after another short pause (Dick always knew when to stay silent, and wait for the other person to speak first) said :
“Dickie, are mom and dad not your mom and dad ?” 
“Mm ?” 
“Your real mom and dad, they died ? You can’t see them no more now ?”
There was a lump in Dick’s throat. Not because he thought about his parents no. He actually came to peace with their death long ago now. And though he missed them every day, it didn’t hurt as much as it used to. 
He was lucky to find another loving family...From which that little worried kiddo in front of him was an important part of. 
“Yes, I can’t see them anymore.”
“It hurts ?” 
“It used to. Now less. I miss them, but I wasn’t alone.”
“Because you have our mom and dad ?”
“Yes.” 
Dick ruffles his hair fondly. 
“Do you wish you’d still have your real mom and dad ?”
“Mom and dad ARE my real parents too. I was lucky enough to find new ones. Not everyone is as lucky, like dad. He was alone for a long time” 
“What about Alfred ?” 
“It took dad a while to realize that Alfred was a second father to him” 
“So...Will you be my second dad if dad goes ?” 
Dick feels another lump in his throat. Bigger this time. 
He couldn’t even imagine the day he’ll lose this “second dad”, this one he had now called “dad” for longer even than his own biological father...Dick was 8, when he came into yours and Bruce’s life. 
He spend more  years with you two than with his “real” parents. You never replaced them, no. You just..became his parents too. 
He would never forget his biological parents. But he would never diminish the impact his adoptive one had. The love you and Bruce gave him. 
Would he be good enough to be Thomas “second dad” ? After all, he currently had about the age Bruce had when he adopted him...
But Dick couldn’t imagine losing Bruce too. Losing another father. No. He couldn’t. He couldn’t. 
Thomas was already moving on, asking more questions : 
“Will I find another mom and dad too if mom and dad die ? Or will I be alone like dad ? Will I have Alfred forever ?”
“I-I don’t know buddy.”
“What if I lose all of you at the same time ? I will be all alone then.” 
“You won’t.”
“But what if I do ?” 
“I’ll always be there.” 
“You can’t know that, can you ?” 
“Maybe, but this will never happen. You will never be alone.” 
“You really think so ?”
“I Do. And I promise little wing, I promise...You won’t lose all of us. You won’t.” 
Dick held his brother even tighter against him, and missed the unconvinced expression on Thomas’ face. 
************
Your youngest son was still utterly terrified of losing any of you. But his terrible fit would pass now, he would calm down more easily, and wouldn’t cry until exhaustion...But it didn’t mean he wasn't afraid anymore. 
Unfortunately. 
“Death” was still a constant on his mind. One of the biggest question. Without much answers. 
His mother and father said no one knew what happened after “death”, but Thomas wasn’t convinced. So he went to the only one he knew would tell him the truth, and was most likely to know...Tim.
His older brother was currently in the garden, studying for his finals. But oh he’d take a break for his little brother, of course. 
Especially lately, as said little brother was overly worried and needed constant reassurance. 
“Hi Timmy.” 
“Hey little one.” 
“Bothering you ?”
“You are not bothering me, never.” 
“Can I ask you a question then ?”
“Of course.” 
“What happens when we die ?” 
Oof. 
OOOOF. 
Not something Tim could say he expected to be asked. Even as he knew Thomas was sort of obsessed with this lately. And ah...Ah he started to get lost into physiological effects of death, into science, into things Thomas could definitely not understand...
And into things he didn’t care about. 
Thomas had no interest in knowing what happens to the corporeal side of things. To our bodies. He wanted to know where “we” went. Where the being went. The conscience. 
Of course he wouldn’t word it that way, but it was easy to understand that it was what he meant when he said : “where do we go when we die ?”. 
After a long time of Tim getting lost in many complex explanations about decomposition (what the Hell Tim ?), he finally stopped as he saw that Thomas was most definitely lost.  
“Where do we go after we die ?” 
“Yes. What happens ? You must know, you know everything !” 
The faith his littlest brother put in him made him feel warm inside but...unfortunately on this subject he had to disappoint him. 
“I..I don’t know about this, actually.” 
Thomas looked crestfallen. Was nothing sacred anymore ?? Death existed, and the one he thought would always have a solution to everything didn’t know something that important !! 
“There’s many theories.” 
“What’s a theories ?”
“One theory, multiple theories. A theory is...an idea of how things might work.” 
“What are the theory ?” 
“Theories, plural.” 
“What are the theories ?” 
“Well. Some people think that you go into some kind of afterlife. It depends the culture, and the religion, and...many other factors. But there’s usually a few places we can end up.” 
“And we’ll see the people who died there ? We’ll see them again ?” 
“Supposedly so.” 
“Is it sure ?”
“No, it’s just a theory.” 
“You said a theory is an idea of how things might work.” 
“An idea that might not be proven.” 
“What’s the point then ?” 
“Theorizing.” 
“I don’t understand...”
Of course he didn’t, he was a smart little boy...But still just five. Tim sat down to his level, and looked at him in the eyes : 
“Well. You have to understand that um...No one knows what happens after death. So we have to make theories, things that might or might not be. You understand ?” 
“No.” 
“Well, since we don’t know, we make things up. But maybe those things are right. Maybe they aren’t.” 
“So the answer is we don't know ?” 
“Yes. But there are theories ?” 
“Ok. So aside from the place we see others again, what are the theories ?” 
“Well (...)” 
Tim was a patient boy. For hours and hours, he tried to explain every single “theory” people might’ve had about what happens after Death. And Thomas listened carefully. 
Finally, Tim was done, and his brother said : 
“So...No one really knows, and there’s a lot of theory...ies. Theories.” 
“Basically.” 
Thomas looked so discouraged. Tim was very well aware that none of what he told him really helped his brother, or reassured him...But ah. Tim was known to not lie. Which was a good thing. And he couldn’t possibly have a free conscience if he had told his brother just one theory of the after life, the nicest one, just to reassure him. 
Of course, he wanted to reassure him. To distract him. But he would do so another way. Lying to him was not it. 
Still, it was so disheartening to see this sweet little boy so crestfallen. 
“Um, Well...I guess some people know.”
Thomas looked up at his brother, hopeful, waiting for him to continue. 
“Like Constantine. But um, he’s sort of crazy. And dad doesn't want him around the house for...reasons you’ll understand when you’ll grow up. And-”
Ah but Thomas wasn’t listening to Tim anymore, and his monologue as to why maybe John Constantine wasn’t such a reliable source.   
“Constantine” huh ? Interesting. Ah. Sometimes, Tim forgot how smart his little brother truly was...for a five years old. And how he took after his father, when it came to memory and attention to details. 
************
This constant worry went on for quite just a few days. A few very eventful days, that were so...exhausting. Thomas was constantly scared for your lives, and would cry if anyone got hurt too much. 
He would follow you around, and be way too stressed for such a little bean. 
Everyone came to hide their injuries from him, tried to distract him from what they were doing when out as the Bats...But it was becoming a real problem. 
How ? How could they make a little five years old understand that he couldn’t forever be afraid of death ? It was impossible. None of you, not even you, had the right words. There were no right words anyway. 
You could tell him whatever you wanted, it’d never make him stop thinking about Death taking one of you with her, taking one of you far away from him. 
“A place he cannot follow you to.” 
How ? How could you help ?!
But the change had to come from within him, you would soon realize. 
About a week after Ace’s death, and a truly painful few days of everyone being lost and unable to help the baby of the family... he suddenly spoke up, at dinner time : 
“Mama, mama, if one day you die, I will bring you back. I promise. Same for daddy, and Dick, and Jason, and Cass, and Tim, and Duke, and Damian, and Alfred. I don’t know if we can bring dogs back, but humans yes ? And worst case scenario, I’ll conjure your spirit so I can say goodbye, and then I’ll know we’ll see each others again !”
“Wh-What ?” 
“Stunned” doesn’t quite cover how you felt at your son’s sudden tirade, at dinner that night. Everyone was here, a rare occasion. Your one dinner a months that was mandatory for all your kids ! To make sure you’d all have moments together. 
And boom. Came this monologue out of nowhere, from your small little five and a half years old son. 
Stunned. Not a strong word enough to describe you, or your other children. 
But Bruce. Oh Bruce. Bruce was frowning. Narrowing his eyes in a way you knew perfectly well...It meant he was angry at someone. 
“Who told you all this, son ?” 
“Mister Constantine.”
A growl. A scary growl. From deep within your husband’s throat. You would NOT want to be John next time he’d see 
“How did you talk to him ?” 
“I used your phone.” 
“I don’t have his number on my...Wait, the bat phone ?!” 
“Yes. The one you call uncle Clark on !”
“What the-...how did you-ugh ?!” 
There were so many questions. So many. 
“I copied what you do, on the phone. And I asked it if it could call the Constantine.” 
“The Constantine”, this better not be a stupid way he called himself in front of his son, Bruce thought. Ah, and curse the fact he kept having kids that were too damn smart for their own good ! 
Kids this days. Growing up with technology. Able to work a batphobe at age 5 and a half !! 
“Hope I helped little man - John Constantine”, said the note that came to the manor a few days later. Which made Bruce fume with rage, but Thomas beam happily. 
Bruce was already planning to go after John, and force him to say what he told his son. But...But...
To be honest. Whatever he said. You didn’t care. You knew, more than anyone else, that “Death” wasn’t as definitive as it sounded at times. And you knew for certain there was something after you died. What ? You couldn’t be sure. But something. Another place. Or maybe reincarnation ? Who knew. 
Deep in your heart though, you knew that no matter what, if you ever were to die...You’d see your family again. You weren’t sure how or where. It was just a certainty in your heart. A gut feeling. 
Yes. You didn’t care what John told your son. If it could help him accept that everyone will die one day. Didn’t mean he wasn’t afraid of losing you anymore. Oh no. But at least...At least he knew worrying about it lead nowhere. And to truly enjoy the moments of the present. 
Whatever John said, it helped your son. That’s all that mattered. And as Thomas would grow up, you knew he’d understand things more and more. 
He already knew he was luckier than many people. He had a loving family. They were all there with him for now (minus Ace, whom he missed every day). A lot of people couldn’t say the same thing. 
Death was an odd thing. Especially in the World you lived in. 
It wasn’t as definitive as some would say.
Your family knew that more than anyone else.  
Death was an odd thing, that wasn’t always the ultimate end...
This, one day, Thomas would truly understand. 
The end 
__________________________________________________
And here we are :). Just a quick thing again, my bigger story (fake boyfriend trope with Bruce hehe) is coming soon. But in the mean time, felt compelled to write about this. I hope you enjoyed reading it, and liked it ? Not my best work :/, another quick drabble written very late at night eh. But nonetheless, fun to write ? Hope it’s not a disappointment, it’s just a thing to make ya wait for a more elaborate thing that I took a lot of care writing. Anyway it’s 4 am, time for bed :).
If you did, don’t hesitate to leave a little feedback or/and to reblog :). If you didn’t as well really, it’s always good to know what’s not good so I can improve (just stay civil please). 
PS : Bonus point if you get where I’m trying to arrive at with those last few words about how definitive death is :p. 
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flowerpowelltales · 3 years
Text
Until You Hate Me (Liam x MC)
PART THREE - THE BEGINNING
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A/N: Yes, I do feel ashamed I forgot about this series for TWO years. I also am aware most of you, who have been tagged, dont even remember ever reading this series. If you’d like to be taken off the taglist just let me know because I don’t want to bother anyone. If you want a refresher - it’s the series where Regina pays Riley to be the worst suitor ever so that in two weeks, Liam would have to marry someone Regina picked for him. Previous parts are on my masterlist. Shoutout to the Nonny who motivated me to write this part. Hope y’all enjoy! Characters belong to PB. 
Rating: G
Word count: 1692
Tagging: @gardeningourmet @delightfullypinkglitter @blackcatkita @badchoicesposts @jared2612 @princess-geek @desiree-pow-35-1986​ @emichelle​ @ao719​ @cordoniantrash @kinggliam @needalittlerain @flyawayboo @nazariortega @jlpplays1 @kimmiedoo5 @annekebbphotography​ @ladyangel70​ @eadanga​ @kingliam2019​ @nz1091​ @emceesynonymroll @texaskitten30 @mskaneko​ @custaroonie @drakesensworld​ @janezillow @ritachacha​ @lodberg​ @msjr0119​ @gkittylove99​ @sweatyrysconnoisseur​ @dcbbw​ @potter1-7harry​
“Welcome to Cordonia,” Liam said when the Royal Jet finally landed. He looked at Riley warily as she took in the sights. The flight was a total disaster and made him rethink his whole life. If he hadn’t known better he’d think she wanted to sabotage his mission.
“Looks sick,” she said and Liam sighed.
“Liam, Riley, the car is here. Come before anyone spots us.” Regina nodded towards their driver.
“Whoa, we have our own driver? That’s mad!”
Regina raised an eyebrow in a ‘do-not-overdo-it’ manner but Riley ignored it. For her it was either go hard or go home. Literally, because if she failed she’d go home with no money.
The ride from the private airport to the palace was silent; Riley was admiring the views, Liam was thinking if he made the right choice and Regina was already planning Liam’s wedding to Madeleine.
When they arrived, Regina excused herself and went straight into her office.
“What do you think?” Liam asked politely when they were the only two left.
“It looks so… majestic. Like something I’d expect a palace look like but at the same time like something I wouldn’t expect. It’s gorgeous.”
Liam turned to her stunned by her words. What happened to “sick” and “mad”? Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad, after all.
“Come inside,” he said and extended his hands towards her. She took it and then gasped at the interior.
“It’s so regal and so big and oof—” Riley was almost knocked out by a small, fluffy ball that jumped at her.
“Ah, this is Chance, Maxwell’s dog. He must feel you’re a good person because he is never that happy about strangers.” Liam smiled as he leaned to take her coat. She handed it to him and when Liam walked away to hang it, she bent over to Chance. 
“Hey, buddy! I’m super flattered you like me but can you please bite me or start barking at me so Liam doesn’t think I’m good?” She asked and Chance titled his head in confusion. “You see,” she lowered her voice, “I have a mission to complete.”
When Chace still couldn’t understand, Riley tried to speak his language.
“Woof woof woof woof,” she barked at Chance in low voice.
“Um… is everything okay, lady Riley?” Liam asked, suddenly appearing behind her. Shoot.
“Mhm. Just talking to that cute little muffin. And please, call me Riley. I’m no lady.”
“If you insist. Would you like to see your room?”
“Sure! Does it have a mini fridge? I bet it’s totally dope!”
Liam shook his head in disbelief. Riley changed her mood every few minutes. He couldn’t figure her out. Sometimes she was serious and really fun to talk to but then she changed again and acted like a spoiled teenager.
“Here we are.” Liam motioned the room when they finally reached the guest chamber. “It doesn’t have a mini fridge but you can call any of the staff members to ask for whatever you’d like, anytime.”
“Cool.”
“Ah, Liam! Riley! I am so glad to see you both here!” Regina exclaimed with a smiled on her face. “We have a dinner today with a few of our friends. Liam, please help lady Riley to prepare for it.”
“Of course, Regina. Who are we expecting?” Liam asked.
“Duchess Olivia Nevrakis, Lord Neville, Duchess Adelaide, her daughter and Duke Godfrey, lady Hana Lee and her parents, and a few of the court members.”
Liam nodded politely but started to panic internally. Lord Neville, Godfrey and Adelaide weren’t exactly the first people he wanted Riley to be introduced to. He knew too well how they treated commoners and how awful they could be. He had only about two hours before the dinner to go through the royal protocol, table manners, dress code and how to address who. When he looked up at Riley he noticed she was already studying him.
“Everything’s alright?”
“Yes, it is. I just thought we would have more time before your debut.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that! I was born ready!” she said reassuringly, which, ironically, made Liam even less reassured.
~~~~
“So when I see Hana Lee’s dad I should say ‘ni hao’, right?”
“Correct! And can you please repeat how you would address Duchess Olivia?”
“Your Grace,” Riley replied.
“Exactly. And Lord Neville?”
“…Also your Grace?”
“Yes. How would you address me, then?”
“Your Majesty?”
“No, Majesty is used for Kings and Queens. I’m not a King yet so I ought to be addressed ‘your Highness’.”
“So Regina is her Majesty?” Riley asked.
“Precisely. Now, what is my title?”
“Prince?”
“Full title.”
“Prince Louis of Cordonia.”
“Ye—What? What Louis?”
“Your name isn’t Louis?”
“No,” he shook his head. “It’s Liam.”
“Oh, right! Sorry, I’ve always had a problem with remembering names.”
Liam smiled but wanted to scream. Remembering names was probably one of the most important things Riley had to learn. And she forgot even his.
“Let me get this straight, when I talk to you I always have to use ‘your highness’?”
“When we’re with nobility, yes. It shows respect. When there’s only me and you, or friends and family, you can call me by my name,” he explained.
“Which is Louis!”
“Liam,” he corrected. Again.
“Sorry! Sorry!” Riley apologized. “I’ll just need something to associate you with… Oh! I know! I used to listen to One Direction a lot and Liam was the name of one of the singers! I liked him a lot!”
“Whatever works for you.” Liam smiled, feeling less and less enthusiastic about his mission.
~~~~
Two hours and three braincell losses later, Riley was walking arm in arm with Liam, into the ballroom. She was wearing a very expensive dress, more expensive than everything she owned altogether. She was very stressed and started to regret coming here. Pretending to be the worst suitor in front of Liam was one thing, but pretending to be the worst suitor in front of all Cordonian nobility was a completely different thing.
“Look, there’s Xinghai, he’s coming here,” Liam whispered and Riley nodded as the man approached them. Liam nudged Riley.
Okay. Show time.
“Hey hoe!” She yelled, making everyone freeze.
I hate myself.
“Riley!” Liam hissed, pinching her arm.
“Excuse me?” Xinghai asked as if not believing his ears.
“I think Riley tried to say ‘ni hao’, is that right?” Liam raised his eyebrows and Riley felt sick.
“Yes! Ni hao! I’m so sorry, I’m very bad at languages!”
Xinghai shook his head. “If you say so.”
“Hi, I’m Hana! And this is my mother, Lorelai.” A girl with a very friendly face extended her hand as if she hadn’t noticed that huge faux-pas. Her mom barely smiled at her.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Your Highness.” A man approached them and raised a glass. “I feel deeply honored to be invited here today. Her Majesty mentioned you would bring an American suitor, is this that lovely lady?”
Riley didn’t know who it was but she sure hated him already. She looked at Liam and realized she wasn’t the only one thinking so.
“Lord Neville. I am very happy you could join us. Yes, this is lady Riley, my suitor. Lady Riley, this is Lord Neville.”
“Lord? Like Lord of the Rings? Is that even a real title?” she asked.
“Excuse me?” Neville was confused and Liam embarrassed. From the corner of her eye, Riley could see Regina smiling at the sight.
At least someone is happy with what I’m doing.
“I believe we haven’t met.” A blond woman interrupted them, holding a glass of champagne in one hand and a very unhappy man in the other.
“This is Duchess Adelaide, Duke Godfrey and their daughter, Countess Madeleine. And this lovely woman by my side is lady Riley.”
“Hi y’all! Louis told me so much about you!” She heard Liam sighing.
“Hmph” was all Godfrey said. The rest of the family looked confused.
“Who’s Louis?” Adelaide asked.
“What happened to One Direction association?” Liam whispered to her when the family wasn’t looking.
“I forgot Louis was in the band, too,” she replied.
“If you excuse us,” Liam turned to Adelaide, “but we need to say hello to Duchess Olivia. Thank you for coming.”
He quickly led Riley far from Adelaide and Godfrey, avoiding other court members on the way. He couldn’t do this. At least not today. Riley clearly wasn’t ready.
“Why hello there,” a lady with red hair and a matching dress greeted them.
“Olivia. Hello. How are you?” Liam started a small talk and Riley noticed he was more relaxed talking to her than he was talking to other people. She must be a friend, she thought.
“I’m great. Haven’t been to a party that is as much fun as this one. And it’s all thanks to you. I’m Olivia.”
“Riley. You’re the Ice Queen?” Riley asked remembering Lythikos was a winter wonderland. She hoped Olivia would be offended just like the others but to her surprise the Duchess burst out laughing.
“Ice Queen! I like her already,” she said as she wiped a tear from her eye. “Absolutely loved when she questioned Neville’s title. The man’s pain in the ass.”
“I’m glad you find it funny,” Liam said firmly. Olivia shrugged and turned to take another glass of wine.
“I’m really sorry I embarrassed you, Louis.”
“Liam,” he corrected.
“Liam,” Riley repeated. “I’ve just came to Cordonia and had only two hours to take it all in. I’ll be better in time.” Not sure how better at making you hate me I can get though.
“It’s fine. Listen, it’s me who should be apologizing. As you said, you just came here and within a few hours you had to learn things I learned throughout the years.”
Riley’s eyes widened. She embarrassed him, she humiliated him and he still apologized? She felt awful.
“I still feel bad. I promise I won’t let you down,” she lied and Liam smiled.
“I’m happy to hear that because we’re visiting our apple orchard tomorrow and the press will be there to meet you, too.”
Riley gulped as she smiled at Liam.
That only meant she had to try even harder.
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blueskrugs · 3 years
Text
The Best Day | Sammy Blais
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(it’s a @powerblais gif! and a very smiley sammy!) 
we’re back with another fluffy fic! this one’s a tiny bit different, but I had both this song and dad!sammy on my list for a while, so when I started planning this series, they seemed perfect together. anyway, someone might need to check on erin after this. no beta from Sarah on this one...because I just finished it like five minutes ago. 
tagging:  @marcostandella @stlbluesbrat @dembenchboys @poltoncarayko @robthomissed @letmeplaytheblues @troubatrain @ayohockeycheck @blackwidowrising @zinka8 @aria253264 @antoineroussel@starswin @glassdanse @ch-ristiane @majdoline   @braydenschenn @nazdaddy​ 
length: 2.3k words. this is a kid fic, but there’s no real talk of pregnancy or birth, just some scenes from growing up.
You’d always known Sammy would make a good dad one day. He’d grown up a lot in the years you’d known him, though you’d never forget the look of pure terror and awe in his eyes when he held your little girl for the first time.
“Mon petit ange,” he called her, my little angel, whispered for the first time just for her little ears to hear. 
Sammy loved you, you knew, but he loved Lily more than anything in the world.
I hear your laughter and look up smiling at you, I run and run Past the pumpkin patch and the tractor rides, look now the sky is gold
It had been Sammy’s idea to go to Eckert’s for apple and pumpkin picking, just before Halloween. You weren’t sure Lily quite understood the concept of carving pumpkins just yet, since she was only three, but Sammy had insisted “for the experience.”
You were pretty sure Sammy just wanted to go for himself, but you were hardly going to fight him on it.
So the three of you bundled up against the blustery St. Louis fall day and into the car– with only minimal fussing from Lily, because that was a thing now– on a day off in late October. It wasn’t really too cold, and it was sunny, just a hint of late summer still lingering in the air. 
Sammy was excited, singing loudly and off-key to every song that came on the radio. He’d turn to grin at you every time you groaned, big and happy, and you loved him so much. You turned up the radio.
Sammy beat you to the back of the car after he parked, sweeping Lily out of her car seat and up into his arms. She giggled excitedly, wrapping her arms around his neck as he dashed off with her. You just laughed fondly and followed after them.
It was a little late in the season for most of the apples, but you took the tractor ride into the orchard anyway. Sammy did most of the picking, quickly filling up the little basket you’d been given, though whenever Lily tugged on his jeans, he would scoop her up and hold her up to the trees so she could grab an apple, too.
She only dropped a few of them. Well, some of them. They still went into the basket, just a little bruised now. 
Next came the pumpkin patch, which you think Sammy was more excited about. Actually, you knew Sammy was more excited about the pumpkin patch, you thought, as you watched him run ahead of you and Lily. 
“Alright, we need three pumpkins,” Sammy said when you caught up to him.
“Three?”
Sammy made a face at you. “Me, you, and Lily,” he said, slowly, like you were missing something obvious. 
“Our daughter is not carving a pumpkin by herself,” you laughed. You’d really been planning on doing one with her while Sammy did whatever he wanted to do.
“Why not?”
“You are not giving our toddler a sharp object.”
“The knives that come in those carving kits aren’t that sharp,” Sammy reasoned.
“Oh my God,” you said. You weren’t winning this argument. 
The pumpkin patch was pretty picked over, as close to Halloween as it was, but there were still enough pumpkins that Sammy could be extremely particular about it. It was all “too small,” “too big,” “too bumpy,” “too smooth,” which. What. 
“Sammy,” you warned when Sammy hefted a giant pumpkin that probably weighed more than Lily. He whined at you, but put the pumpkin down again, so you were going to count it as a win.
Eventually, you settled on three– because Sammy had, in fact, won the argument that all three of you needed your own pumpkins– pumpkins that had passed Sammy’s test, along with a full basket of fresh apples. 
“Good day?” you asked.
Sammy slung an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your temple. Lily was running ahead of you, but she looked back every few steps to smile at you and Sammy. 
“The best,” Sammy replied. 
But I know I had the best day with you today
Game days had always been your favorite, and they’d only gotten more fun since you’d had Lily. She got caught up in all the energy of home games at Enterprise, yelling and cheering with everyone else in the arena, even under those giant baby headphones she used to wear and she didn’t really know what was going on down on the ice. 
Today was no different, Lily clad in her tiny Blais jersey,  bouncing excitedly in her carseat, the special pregame playlist Sammy had made for her playing over the car’s speakers. She was still bouncing as she stood carefully next to you on the boards during warmups. She banged happily on the glass as players skated past. Vince shot you a grin as he went by before Sammy came crashing into him. 
“Daddy!” Lily yelled. 
Sammy smiled and waved before carefully balancing a puck on his stick and flipping it over the glass to you. Lily clutched that puck all night long. 
And I didn’t know if you knew, so I’m taking this chance to say
There was no greater place in St. Louis than Forest Park on a warm spring day. It was late in the season, and the Blues had a rare day completely off. You were all itching to get out of the house, so the Zoo it was. 
Well, after Sammy spent a few minutes complaining about the parking lot, that is. 
“Okay, where to first?” Sammy asked, clapping his hands together as you walked into the atrium. Lily was busy pointing up at the giant squid and sharks hanging from the ceiling. 
“Train!” she called.
You raised your eyebrows at Sammy. “Train it is, then.”
“Then the carousel?” Sammy asked, turning those big eyes Lily had gotten on you. They both knew you were powerless against them.
“Yes, oh my God, you’re as much of a child as our daughter sometimes,” you said. 
“Yeah, but you love me,” he said. “We can go see the seals and the penguins after, I promise,” he added, because he knew they were your favorites. 
You held Lily while Sammy bought tickets for the train, but she sat on Sammy’s lap in the cramped train car. She giggled and chattered the entire way around the Zoo, often waving at other zoo-goers you passed at the crossings. After a while, she poked Sammy enough times that he was waving, too. 
“Where to next?” Sammy asked as the three of you clambered off the train at the end of the line, but it was token, because he was already scooping up Lily again and heading towards the carousel. 
You got double puppy-dog eyed into joining the two of them on the carousel,  which is how you ended up on the back of a polar bear next to your daughter, who was astride a giraffe, with Sammy hovering behind her. His hand was on the back of the giraffe, as if he was worried Lily would fall. You took a picture of them like that, twin grins on their faces. 
After the carousel came the polar bears and the penguins– Lily laughed in delight when she got splashed by one of the penguins, though she wrinkled her nose at the smell– then towards the sea lions and seals. You tagged Sammy back towards you by his hood as you emerged back into the humid air. 
“This was a good idea,” you said. 
“Yeah?” Sammy said, but he was beaming at you. He pulled you close for a quick kiss, and you both laughed when Lily made a face at the two of you.
I come home crying, and you hold me tight and grab the keys And we drive and drive until we found a town far enough away
Growing up was hard. Middle school was even harder. You’d been there before, but it didn’t mean your heart broke any less when Lily came home from school one day and burst into tears when you asked her how her day had been.
You and Sammy shared a look over the kitchen island as she made her way to her bedroom.
“I’ll handle this,” Sammy said, snagging a bag of cookies out of the pantry and following Lily upstairs.
You couldn’t make out much of their conversation from where you were, not that you didn’t try. Sammy had left Lily’s bedroom door open behind him, but you had never quite mastered French, much less French that’s coming to you through tears and down a flight of stairs. 
Sammy came downstairs ten minutes later and winked at you as he put what was left of the cookies away, Lily trailing after him, calmer now. He mouthed, “I’ll tell you later,” at you over her head as you hugged her, except it was forgotten in the rush to get ready for that night’s game. (Not living with Vince anymore did not make Sammy any more punctual.)
It wasn’t until Saturday, when both Lily and Sammy were up bright and early on their day off, that you even remembered he’d never told you. 
“Where are you two off to?” you asked as you watched Sammy hunt for his keys. 
“An adventure!” Lily said.
“Oh boy,” you replied, but Sammy just shot you a grin and shoved a hat on his head.
An “adventure” turned out to be a breakfast date, then a hike out at Castlewood State Park, ending with a drive out to Kimmswick for an apple pie from Blue Owl, which you fully intended to eat at least half of yourself. 
“Good job,” you murmured to Sammy as you listened to Lily talk about their day after dinner.
“She failed a test and got in a fight with her best friend,” Sammy whispered back.
“Remember when those were the biggest things we had to worry about?”
Sammy just laughed softly, pressed a kiss to your temple, and went to get the pie for dessert. 
I have an excellent father, his strength is making me stronger
You were never more thankful that Lily had chosen not to play hockey than when you had to watch Sammy get injured. It was hard enough to watch the man you loved go down; you weren’t sure you could ever handle your baby girl getting injured.
The Blues were on the road when it happened. You didn’t even see it happen, just a late hit from a Minnesota player behind the play, but then Panger was pointing out that Sammy was still down on the ice, and the play was being blown dead. 
“Shit,” you said.
“Language,” Lily said absently, her eyes glued to the TV screen. 
“He’ll be fine,” you assured her, assured yourself.
Sammy was already sitting up on the ice, talking to the trainer, but you didn’t let out the breath you were holding until he was up and skating off the ice on his own. He didn’t return to the game, but he did text you that he was okay sometime before the end of the third. So there was that. 
They were flying home right after the game, and you and Lily were both asleep on the couch when Sammy came through the door around 2 AM. Lilly stirred when Sammy hit his bag against the doorway and cursed at it. His left arm was in a sling.
“Dad!”
“Why aren’t you in bed? You have school tomorrow,” Sammy said as Lily stretched and bounded over to carefully hug him. 
“Oh my God, Dad, I’m 16,” Lily said from under Sammy’s uninjured arm.
“He has a point, though,” you said. You hadn’t been able to say no when Lily had asked if she could stay up with you until Sammy came home, but he was home now. So: “Good night, love you,” you told her. 
Lily sighed and rolled her eyes, but went upstairs without complaint. You grabbed Sammy’s bag from where he’d dropped it and followed him upstairs yourself.
“How bad is it?” you asked once the bedroom door was closed behind you.
Sammy smiled tiredly at you. “Just dislocated. They’ll do some tests tomorrow to make sure there’s no damage, but they think it’ll be fine.”
“She worries about you, you know,” you said. You did, too, obviously, but Lily watched Sammy’s every move on the ice extra closely as she got older. Sammy wasn’t as young as he used to be, and you worried that his next injury would be his last every day. 
Sammy sighed. “I know.”
“She gets her stubbornness from you,” you said pointedly when Sammy winced trying to take off his shirt.
Sammy laughed quietly. “I know.”
And I love you for giving me your eyes, for staying back and watching me shine
Sammy was crying, and you were laughing at him.
It was Lily’s graduation day, and he’d been emotional about it all day. He’d barely made it through pictures that morning, but he’d been fine at the start of the ceremony, though you had a feeling that was going to change once they started calling names. 
“Keep it together, babe,” you teased, but you passed him a tissue from your purse.
“Shut up,” he hissed. “That’s our little girl!”
Your little girl wasn’t so little anymore, and she was walking across the stage to collect her diploma, confident and beautiful in her cap, gown and high heels. She’d grown up so much, but she would always be Sammy’s mini-me. Same brown hair, same eyes that could never quite decide if they were blue or green. Soft spoken but stubborn as hell.
“I’m so proud of you,” Sammy would whisper to her later, and you’d both hug her a little tighter.
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komfortkiri · 3 years
Text
HELP WANTED (PART 2)
WOLF QUIRK F!READER x HANTA SERO x EIJIRO KIRISHIMA WORD COUNT: 2,997 TW/CW: ABSENT PARENT MENTION (I know some people get really bothered about absent parents)
NOTES: No banner yet. And yes, I posted two parts in one day BECAUSE I’M LIVING FOR THIS. The next part I’ll include things from Kiri and Sero’s POV. I got tired toward the end of this one and wanted to finish and post it before going to sleep.
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Your alarm went off at 6:45 AM, allowing you more time to actually get ready and look like a decent human being.. well, sort of. You laid there for a moment, though, thinking that if this really went well, you could be leaving within the next week. You’d have to tell your father and though he’d be hurt, it wasn’t like you wouldn’t come back to visit. With a deep breath, you threw your legs off the side of the bed, holding your arms over your head to stretch. The stretch was so good that you almost fell back into your mattress and went back to sleep but you shook your head and rose to your feet, proceeding to your bathroom to shower.
After you took your shower from Hell, you walked out of your bathroom and back into your room, making your way to your closet to browse over the clothes you had. You realized quickly that you should probably do some upgrading to your wardrobe but you’ll worry about that another day. Your eyes scanned over everything and nothing really stood out to you so you pulled out your phone to check the weather, seeing that it was pretty cold out— roughly 23 degrees. Coffee definitely sounded luxurious right now and that thought alone made you check the time to see that it was now 7:15 AM. You took a little longer in the shower but the scorching water felt like Heaven to you.
You sighed, taking a long-sleeved, burgundy turtleneck half-shirt off of a hanger along with a pair of black high-waisted jeans. You tossed both articles of clothing onto the bed then went to your small dresser in the corner of your room to open the top drawer, pulling out a white colored bra and a matching pair of panties to go with it. You closed that drawer then opened the second drawer, getting some black socks that rose to just under your knee. Once you had everything, you dropped your towel then threw your undergarments on, along with your socks.
During your dressing, you received a text message from the Kiri person so you rushed over to it, hoping they weren’t cancelling the get together. Relief washed over you whenever you read the message.
FROM KIRI: Morning! Wanted to send you a text to tell you that me and my roommate are getting ready and should be at the coffee shop closer to 8:30 AM. We still on?
You replied rather quickly, it was almost creepy.. like you were waiting for a text.
TO KIRI: Good morning! Yes, of course! I’m getting ready right now as well.. I may be there earlier than you both since it’s right around the corner from me!
Once the message delivered, you threw your phone back onto your bed then put on your shirt and pants, which had a special made hole just for your tail, then walked over to your full body mirror hanging on the wall. “Not bad.. Not bad at all.” It was almost like you were hoping these were men that you were meeting. You scoffed at your thought, nah. You walked back to the bathroom to grab your hair brush, one for the hair on your head and another for the fur on your tail. It was weird in a way.. you had to color coordinate what you used for your tail because the fur wasn’t as soft as your actual hair was. Once you finished grooming yourself, you put on a pair of flat-bottom, over-the-knee, black boots. 
Time, what was the— shit! Your damned tail, taking so much time to brush through. It was now 8:05 so you had to rush a little bit if you wanted to be extra early and order what you needed so you grabbed your black trench coat off your coat rack, grabbed your phone then your backpack that held your wallet and other necessities that you may need throughout the day and booked it out of your room and out of your front door. Your dad must have had to work this morning, considering his car wasn’t out front but nonetheless, you expected as much from a police officer.
NO TIME TO THINK, you thought so you turned in the direction of the coffee shop and started walking. Your walking turned into walking fast then into.. running, which doesn’t affect you much considering it’s part of who you are. You thankfully had a bottle of perfume with you, just in case you smelt like a wet dog and you sprayed a few pumps amongst your coat and a few on your neck. You took a minute to catch your breath right outside Camille’s front door then walked in.
“My, my.. Look who it is! If it isn’t my dear Y/N! I haven’t seen you in a few weeks, must be pulling extra shifts at the animal shelter, huh?” Camille practically rushed to you, bringing you into a hug. All you could do was smile and accept her embrace then return it. If you were being honest, you really needed the hug. “Hi, Camille! I’m sorry I haven’t been visiting like I normally do. I have picked up a few more shifts so I can save up for a place of my own.” You took a seat at your usual spot, right up close to where she made most things. There was a small little bar, in which, Camille practically saved your seat every morning when you started coming in. She was like a mom to you, which was nice in its own way considering yours wasn’t worth a shit. 
Camille knew just about everything about your life so you felt awful knowing that you hadn’t been around in a few weeks but you had to do what you need to first. “You know, darling, whenever you stopped coming in, these two very handsome boys started coming in every morning. It was almost fate in a way. They kept me company while you were gone, but don’t get me wrong, I’m glad my favorite girl is back.” Boys? Was this elderly woman really trying to hint at hooking you up right now? All you could do was shake your head and laugh as she set your usual in front of you— hot hazelnut coffee, extra sweet. You lifted the glass mug to your lips, speaking from behind it, “Boys, huh? Camille, are you trying to set me up?” A smirk formed along your face as you took a sip of the coffee, humming softly in satisfaction, your ears falling back some. She always did make the best coffee, it never failed.
The older woman laughed then leaned back onto the counter opposite from the one you were at, “Now, you know I wouldn’t meddle into your love life, dear. All I’m saying is, they are complete gentleman.” She leaned forward on her elbow, whispering her next statement. “If I was year and years younger, I’d probably take both of them.” This made you snort then double over in laughter, “Camille! Shame on you!” All she did was shrug then before she could respond, her eyes lit up when she realized who was entering her shop. You noticed this look and raised an eyebrow, sipping your coffee. Camille realized your eyes were on her and she nodded toward the door, mouthing that’s them. You tried your best not to make it obvious but you turned your head just enough to the side to peer over your shoulder and boy, she was not kidding. However, these were definitely not boys.. they were pure men. 
You quickly turned your head before they realized you were ogling them, your insides heating up. All you could think of was how the good Lord above took his sweet time crafting both of them. Your heightened sense of hearing allowed you to listen in on what was being said between both of the guys and Camille so you just barely turned your left ear to the side, lifting your coffee again to take another sip.
“My boys! Where have you been? Fighting crime as usual?” Camille greeted both with a big hug each before one of them answered her. “Yes ma’am, you know us. We have to make sure nothing happens to your wonderful coffee shop.” Your heart skipped a beat at that statement. Smooth. “Always such sweethearts, come. I want you to meet another regular of mine.” Please don’t, please don’t, plea— “Y/N?” Your face was probably as red as a beet at this point but you turn anyway with a smile that was semi-forced. You hadn’t much prepared well on talking to… very, very attractive men. “Boys, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Eijiro and Hanta.” You shook each of their hands, your insides felt like they were being lit on fire at this point.
The man known as Kirishima smiled, “You can call me either Ei, Eiji or Kiri, though.” The fire was immediately put out by his statement. You were thanking all the Gods that you didn’t have your coffee in your hand because you would have dropped it. “D-Did you say Kiri?” You cleared your throat, scratching the back of your head nervously. 
“Yeah, do you know me? I mean, I’m a pro-hero but do you know someone I know or—“ You cut him off, not meaning to, but you had to get it out. “No, I.. I inquired about the roommate ad you had put up. We texted this morning and last night?” Kirishima and Sero’s eyes widened and they looked at each other. Something tells you they really weren’t expecting the person they were meeting to be a woman, but you were in the same boat because you didn’t expect for the two people you were meeting to be two gorgeous piece of asses either.
Sero spoke this time as he looked back at you, “So you are looking to be our roommate?” You blushed a soft shade of pink, not really knowing how to properly answer that but you did anyway. “Well, I-I didn’t really plan on you guys being, well… guys.” Both men laughed then Kirishima sat next to you, Sero sitting next to him on the other side. Camille put their coffees in front of him, Sero’s was partnered with a bagel. She gave you a wink then rushed back to the kitchen, peering out the little window in the door. All you could do was shake your head with a grin. “If it makes you uncomfortable, you definitely don’t have to move in with us but we’d like to be your friend.” 
You smiled at that but thought of the trouble you’d get yourself in just by being their friend. It was almost impossible not to yank both by their collars to the bathroom and— “Wolf quirk, eh?” Sero’s voice shook you out of your inappropriate thoughts. It’s almost like he knew where your head was spiraling to. “Y-Yeah. My dad is also part wolf as well.” You nodded, clearing your throat even though you really didn’t need to as there was nothing to clear. 
“What about your mom?” Sero pressed, not knowing that talking about your mother was something you hated doing. You sighed quietly, eyes darting in front of you to a blank space on the white wall in front of you. Your ear fell back, tone filled with… hatred when you spoke, which you didn’t intend for, but your burning rage for her was not controllable. “Don’t know her. She left not too long after I was a baby. Just up and left in the middle of the night and nobody has seen her since.” 
Kirishima looked at Sero, eyes saying way to go, idiot. He wanted to lighten the mood so he changed the subject quickly, “So, uh.. about your quirk..” You three sat there for what felt like hours just talking, having casual conversation. They asked about your quirk, showing high interest in every aspect of it. You reassured them that you didn’t shed hair so they didn’t need to worry about any of that. You didn’t realize that they were pro-heroes until they told you their hero names and you almost choked on your semi-hot coffee. You had heard of both but you never really are around the action to put a face to the name. They both do a lot of good work around your city, in which, you are thankful for with your father being on the police force. Without them, your dad would probably have been hurt or worse. 
Your anger about your mother had withered away and you were really enjoying yourself with the two men next to you. Your tail was moving to-and-fro the entire time, meaning you were happy. It got silent at one point and that prompted to Sero clear his throat then bump his elbow into Kirishima’s own, basically trying to push on this conversation. Kirishima turned his body a little toward you, his tone was soft, “Um.. This roommate thing.. It’s obvious you aren’t a serial killer, unless you’re a really good actor. You don’t have to give us an answ—“ You held your finger up with a smile because it was clear he was about to start rambling on due to nerves and not wanting to overstep. “You don’t have to say anymore. I’m super down for being your roommate.” It seemed like relief washed over the both of them because they smiled at you. “Hell yeah, you can move your stuff in at any time. Just let us know when so we can help you.” Sero nodded in your direction and you nodded back with a smile.
Moving in.. with two insanely attractive men.. What could go wrong, right?
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ecto-american · 3 years
Text
The Other Side
Phic Phight Oneshot for Kiinotasha and KC: (AU) Born a halfa and raised in the Ghost Zone by his mother, Danny struggles with his human identity when a permanent man made portal appears in the Ghost Zone.
On AO3 and FFN
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Danny never questioned his life until that man made portal spawned. He never forgot when he first saw it six years ago while playing with Youngblood.
Naturally, they were playing aliens and spacemen, Danny's favorite. Earlier in the play session, they had found it, and it was deemed part of their spaceship. It was just a metal outline, an octagon. Thick enough that they could sit, and they pretended that the limited space was the entrance. Obviously on the left side was space, and the right side was their ship. Eventually their moms called them home, and during dinner when asked about his day, he told his mom about it.
She frowned, and she asked him for more details. Having played on it all day, he described it perfectly. His mom paled, and she forbid him from going there again, but she didn't expand on why.
He saw no reason to be afraid. It was just a metal shape. There were far more dangerous places in the Ghost Zone. So the next day, he told Youngblood about his mom's weird reaction. His mom had reacted the same, but didn't say why. His dad explained that it was dangerous, but not what about it was dangerous. Danny didn't have a dad, but he was sure that if he did, he probably would have said the same thing. But neither child could get it. What was dangerous about a shape?
So they just played with it again the next day, and they lied to their moms about what they did.
Two years later, another ghost had join to make them a trio. Her name was Box Lunch, and she was honestly a lot of fun. But she was still a girl, and they didn't tell her about their secret fun location until they were sure she didn't have cooties. When they showed her, she instantly knew what it was.
"That's a ghost portal!" she exclaimed. Youngblood and Danny thought she was stupid. Ghost portals didn't stay anywhere permanently. They opened and closed at random, when the human world and Ghost Zone would temporarily merge and allow for a rip to tear. But it always mended back together quickly.
"No it's not," Youngblood scowled. Box Lunch made a face at him.
"Yeah-huh!" she insisted. "My mommy and daddy get into the human world all the time! She said some people there have been trying to make a permanent portal to here!"
"Nu-uh!" Youngblood argued. "My dad said that humans wouldn't do that, they're more afraid of us than we are of them!"
"Yeah-huh!" Box Lunch said more forcefully. "My parents were human once, they said that people constantly wanna hunt us in the human world! And that they're coming here!"
"If they're afraid of us, then why come here?" Youngblood challenged.
"What else would it be?" Box Lunch asked, crossing her arms.
"It's a weirdo ghost's lair!"
And as they bickered back and forth, Danny had remained quiet. He didn't know how to feel about any of this. His friends often forgot that Danny wasn't just a ghost. He was also human.
Not that he was a ghost who was once human, that died. He was both, and he always had been. Born that way, according to his mom, because his dad was human. Danny didn't know too much about him, and he never really thought to ask.
He knew that his name was Jack, and how he looked like. His mom had hung a photo of him in his room so that he'd know; blue eyes, black hair, with a square jaw and in a distinctive orange jumpsuit. The orange suit always reminded him of the blue one his mom wore underneath a lab coat. She said he looked just like his dad when he was in his human form, and he could absolutely see it. Though as a ghost he had white hair that he seemingly inherited from nobody, with his mom's light blue skin and yellow-green eyes. As a ghost, he matched with a black jumpsuit, though as a human, he preferred regular clothes.
Most ghosts had learned of Danny's true nature early on as the news slowly spread when he was born. They loved him and accepted him as one of them. He could go out into the Zone as a human, but it always felt weird. So he was always a ghost.
That night, as he got tucked in for bed, he decided to bring the metallic object up again.
"Box Lunch said that the big metal shape is a permanent ghost portal," he blurted out. His mom stared at him with wide yellow eyes, and so he knew that Box Lunch was actually right. "Is it?"
She sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed.
"I believe so," she confirmed. Danny sat up.
"Is that why you don't want me going near it?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied. Danny cocked his head curiously.
"But if I'm also human, wouldn't they be okay with me?" he wondered. His mom paused for a long, long time. "I'm also one of them."
"I don't know, honey," she admitted. He could tell that she did know. She kissed his forehead. "I'll talk to you about it when you're a little bit older, okay?"
"Promise?"
"I promise. Now good night, sweetie."
It was four more years before it really became relevant again. He had essentially forgotten about the unoperational portal as homeschooling, other friends, and general undead life had continued on for him and his mom.
Youngblood didn't age, since he was once human and died, and so as Danny got older, they hung out less. While Box Lunch, a born ghost, grew, he became distant from her too for unrelated reasons. Danny wasn't alone, however. For a while, he hung out with other ghosts who had died young before he met his best friend. He was a bit older than him when he had died, sixteen to his fourteen, but Johnny 13 (and his shadow) and him had almost instantly become friends and hung out nearly every day. Often his girlfriend joined them too. His mom also allowed him to keep a newly dead dog that had followed him home, that alternated from a puppy to a large hulking beast of a monster dog. Danny named him Cujo.
Ghost Writer provided lessons in the arts on Tuesdays and Thursdays for him and a few other younger ghosts, which did include Johnny and Kitty. On the other days, his mom homeschooled him in her passion: the sciences. His favorite memories were of him and his mother in her lab, doing home experiments and building a wide variety of things.
She indulged in whatever nonsense he wanted to build, which included but wasn't limited to: rock cannon, small spaceships, figuring out how they could grow potatoes on the moon like the man in the martian book did, using ecto energy to cook poptarts.
Often her friend, Technus, but better known to Danny as Uncle Nico, came by to do more of the tech-based stuff. Danny believed that Uncle Nico could do anything with technology. He was one of the ghosts that often went through the natural portals, and whenever he came back, he had something for Danny. Typically game consoles and games, but sometimes fun little useless knick knacks that Danny treasured deeply. He fixed those game consoles many times, and also showed him how to download and install cheats and mods to make them more fun.
And after a morning full of science or the arts, Danny would eat lunch then rush off to play with his friends, Cujo always on his heels.
Looking back, he never did much as a human. He had to resort to his human side to rest, or would default to it if he fell asleep. It felt weird being in human form amongst ghosts, and so he was just always a ghost. He never thought much about it, and nobody ever asked him to be a human around them. It was just how things were.
On the day he'd never forget, it was just him and Johnny. His girlfriend had opted not to come. Danny couldn't remember the original topic, but it made him remember the portal. As soon as he told Johnny about it, the two idly scratching Cujo as the dog slept in between them in puppy form, the ghost's eyes lit up excitedly.
"Dude! We have to check it out!" Johnny insisted.
"I dunno," Danny hesitated. "My mom said that I should stay away."
"Come on, it'll be sick! I've always wanted to go back to the human world," Johnny begged. "And you've never even been there, despite being half-human!"
Danny paused. Well, when you put it like that...
"Okay!" he agreed. He floated up from his seat a bit so he could untangle his legs to stand. Cujo immediately got up from his spot laying near them, tail wagging excitedly. "Let's go! I think I still know where it is!"
It had changed since he last saw it. It now had huge yellow and black doors in place of the previous blank space, and it seemed somehow bigger than he remembered it years ago. But it was unmistakably the man made portal.
Even now, he didn't get what would be too scary about it that his mom would encourage him to stay far away. It was just a door.
"This is so fucking cool," Johnny whispered as he touched the door. "Imagine...no more trying to hunt down a portal. We can just come and go as we please...seeing our lost loved ones...seeing my mom again…It's been so long...I dunno if she'd even remember me..."
Danny didn't say anything, but he did begin to think and truly wonder for the first time what his dad was like. His mom never talked about him, and he never really asked. He and his mom were happy, and he also had Uncle Nico. Was his dad kind? Did he also like science? Why wasn't he here? Did his dad even know about him?
"Do you think we can open it?" Danny asked. Cujo licked his fingers, and Danny scratched his head. Johnny glanced over his shoulder at him.
"I dunno," he admitted. His hand turned into a fist and he knocked on the door. "It seems really solid. I don't think we can just break it or something."
"Hm. Lemme see," Danny mused. He came closer, and he put his hand on the door. It was cold, and Johnny was right; it was metallic, just like the outer edge he used to play on, and it would not break easily. His finger traced the middle line of the two doors. "Hm. Maybe we can pry the door open."
"The humans made this," Johnny spoke. Danny stared at him. No shit. "No, no, I mean. Maybe you should do something to it as a human." Danny thought on this, and he shrugged. Couldn't hurt.
His transformation rings came and went, leaving him in his human state. He was just in a t-shirt and jeans today, and he stayed floating near the portal.
His hand had barely touched the portal when it opened for him.
Danny gasped in shock, jerking his hand back as it opened. Johnny had also jumped, going backwards a bit, and Cujo's fur went up as he barked. It fully opened, and he couldn't see anything but the green ooze. This wasn't anything like Uncle Nico had mentioned natural portals being like. They normally acted like a window you could see through. But it was an unnatural portal made by man.
"Maybe this isn't such a-" Johnny began, but Danny had already stepped through.
There was a weird in between area that shined bright blue that he never heard Uncle Nico describe. But in this in between, he could see exactly what the ghost had mentioned. He knew he was still in the Zone, but he could look out the portal into the human world like a window.
A man in an orange jumpsuit, with black hair that was graying, was sitting in a room that reminded him very much of his mom's lab. He was staring at the portal in confusion, likely because it had randomly opened, and Danny instantly knew who it was. He had no idea if his dad could see him, but he found himself rushing backwards, and back into the Zone.
The second he returned, he became a ghost again, and he silently began to fly away as he tried to process. Johnny asked no questions, only following, Cujo following them both.
That night, at dinner, he finally asked.
"What was dad like?"
His mom stared at him for a moment.
"Well, he was very sweet," she said slowly. "Very bubbly personality. Always went out of his way to help his friends." She smiled softly as she talked about him. "Adored fudge."
"Did he like science?" Danny wondered. His mom gave a short laugh.
"Oh boy he adored it. Not the best at it, but he had a lot of enthusiasm," he replied. "We used to do experiments together all the time."
Danny stared down at his food as he thought. He looked up to her, and he could tell that she already knew what he was going to ask.
"How come I never met him?" he wondered. She sighed.
"...He doesn't like ghosts," she replied. "Aspiring ghost hunter when I met him, actually. I was alive then. Had the same ambitions." At his shocked look, she laughed again. "I know, ironic. We had dated for about two years officially. But then...I died. It was winter, and I was driving late at night during a snowstorm. My car slid off the road, and into a river. And I died from my injuries. I found that I could disguise myself as human, and I was in denial. So I just...continued on."
"...Why?" he asked. His mom shrugged in defeat.
"I guess I just didn't want to admit that it was over. I hadn't done everything I wanted to do yet. I was still in college, and I felt like my life had been forcibly finished before it had even truly started," she admitted. "Jack had proposed, but I had declined. I was too afraid to tell him. He began pursuing ghost hunting more seriously as a profession and building weapons and portals. I found out I was having you, and he was so excited to be a dad. I began getting scared. I didn't know how long I could continue the lie. I didn't know how it all would affect you. Then the police found my car and body, and I knew I couldn't avoid the inevitable any longer. So I left. I had no clue how to face him, or even how safe you might be if we talked. Especially after you were born, and I realized that you were half ghost."
The more she talked, she more somber she became. By the end, she was sniffling a little. Guilt began to wash over him.
"Have you ever talked to him again? Like after I was born?" he wondered. She shook her head no. "How come you've never taken me to the human world?"
"I had considered it. But it's too dangerous," she explained. "Humans aren't like ghosts. If they knew that you were also ghost...you wouldn't wanna find out what happens."
"...Do you regret any of it?" Do you regret me?
She smiled softly despite the conversation.
"You were the best thing to ever happen to me," she told him. "I may have been very anxious about being alone, and how you may turn out despite it all. But you were born healthy and perfect in every way. You're absolutely the light of my afterlife."
Danny smiled back, feeling some reassurance. His mom stood up, leaning over to peck his forehead before picking up her plate. He heard Cujo scramble out from under the table, ears up in excitement.
"I think I'll finish this later," she told him. "I'm not too hungry tonight." She glanced down at the dog. "This isn't for you."
Cujo whined, following her as she put her plate in the microwave. Danny nodded, sparing a small smile to Cujo and ushering for him to come over. He slipped him a piece of chicken as his mom left.
Later that night, Danny couldn't sleep. He was too busy sorting out his rushing thoughts. He was of course still him. Nothing really changed, but there was this new growing emptiness. Danny was still Danny, but there was a whole other side to him that knew nothing about. It began to eat at him more and more. Who was this human side besides just human Danny who lived in the Ghost Zone? He didn't know.
He now wished that his mom had taken him to the human world before so that he could know. She did say that there was a risk in the humans knowing he was also a ghost, which he didn't get. The ghosts accepted him as one of their own, so why wouldn't the humans? He didn't get humans at all. And he needed to know more about them. He was one of them.
By breakfast, his mind was made up.
After an unusually boring lesson with Ghost Writer together, Danny immediately went to Johnny once their small class of sorts were dismissed.
"I have to go back." Danny couldn't breath for a moment. "I have to see what it's like. Like you said, I'm also human, and I've never been there. All my unlife, I've been a ghost, here, in the Ghost Zone. My dad's in the human world. And I need to know what it's like to be human. What it means. So I can maybe meet him one day."
Johnny nodded.
"I think I get it," he said slowly. "I'll come with you. Keep you company. I think I could pass for human pretty well, even if I have to say that I have some kind of sickly disease that keeps me pale."
Danny grinned.
"Thanks," he replied. "Come on."
It took no time at all to find the portal. Danny stared up at it, his breath once more stolen as he tried to think of a reason why he shouldn't go through it.
Nothing came to mind.
"It's okay if you don't wanna," Johnny said. Danny shook his head no.
"I have to do this," he replied. "I need to do this."
Johnny patted his back, and that was all the subconscious encouragement Danny needed to turn human and press his hand to the door. Once more, it opened. The fact that he's even able to open it made him know that this was something he was meant to do. He once again stepped through with Johnny right behind him.
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