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casspurrjoybell-26 · 1 year ago

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The Contract - Chapter 55 - THE END -

*Warning: Adult Content*

- Evan -

I tap my finger along with the music on the steering wheel as I pull in into the driveway.

Looking out my front window, I still cannot believe we live in such a beautiful house, after three months of bidding wars and losing we had finally found out dream home at the last minute.

After Donovan had his health scare, he decided that it was time for him to step down as CEO of Desire and spend more time with family, which was two two months ago and since then he's been doing a lot of DIYS around the house.

I spot Donovan instantly once I get out of my car, he was topless and wiping grease from his cheek with a dirty piece of cloth, he had yet to notice me as I also spot his son Jamie and his girlfriend Hanna talking to Donovan.

I had been away for a full week, the longest time we've been apart since we had gotten married, which meant that today was one I knew Donovan was looking forward to.

Thank you, electric cars, for being a quiet and beautiful sneaky creation.

I quietly shut my car door and sneak around the house to where Donovan and the kids were as they talked around the car Donovan was currently working on as a project.

Once I make it to the back door of the garage, I sneak inside and once I'm close enough, I can hear what they're all talking about and it makes me cover my mouth as I laugh once I realize what the topic was.

"Come on dad, Evan won't mind," Jamie asks Donovan.

"Yeah, Mr. Steele, Evan usually does these things anyways," Hanna pipes up, tapping away at her cell-phone.

Donovan grunts, his face nonchalant.

"No. He'll be home any minute and the last thing he wants to do is do pictures for a bunch of kids."

"What about you then, dad?" Jamie asks, frustrated.

"Yeah. That's a great idea, you're a total daddy, you'll get us lots of people coming, Mr. Steele."

Donovan's face turned cold and he is not interest in the slightest in the topic of modelling because in many ways Donovan was an old man, with no patience for anything remotely close to what they were asking him.

Where me on the other hand, I did it for a living.

Daddy...

Just what kind of picture's are they wanting exactly?

I had to stop myself from laughing out the moment the word left her mouth.

I move from what I was hiding from and start laughing.

"Now what are we talking about here, daddy?" I say, making everyone's head whip towards me in surprised.

"Evan," Donovan breathed out, dropped the dirty piece of cloth onto the car hood and then walked over to me, a jaw dropping handsome smile on his face.

I didn't have a chance to respond as he wrapped his muscled sweaty arms around me, his sticky chest pressing against my face as I get a smell of just how much Donovan smelled of oil and grease.

"Don... Oh my God... you're sticky," I groan, struggling against his hold.

"Did you just get here?" Jamie asked as he came over to us with Hanna, who blushed at me shyly next to Jamie.

"Yeah," I laughed out as Donovan loosened his hold on me. "I thought I'd find you all by the pool during this heatwave, what are you all doing in this dirty garage?"

"We were just about to go inside, if you'd like to join us Evan," Hanna asks shyly, making Jamie roll his eyes at how his girlfriend was blushing from looking at me.

I thought it was cute, it didn't bother me anymore after meeting his girlfriend but Jamie still isn't liking the fact his girlfriend 'fancies' his dad's husband.

"Sure, just give me a moment to freshen up and I'll come out and join you both," I said, satisfying both Jamie and Hanna.

"We'll be out back waiting for you," Jamie said, wrapping his arm around Hanna as they left the garage and went into the house.

I look to Donovan and instantly he lowers his head and crushed his lips onto mine, and after a week of not kissing him, I couldn't help but moan out loud as I held onto his arm as his rough tongue entered my mouth.

"Fuck," Donovan swore between kisses. "I missed you so much."

I laugh as he started kissing me all over my cheeks and then my neck as he left soft and gentle kisses all over me.

"W-Wait."

We were both breathing heavily and I didn't want our neighbours to see us making out like this or his son and his girlfriend, having not lived the last time they caught us in a situation we couldn't explain.

Donovan looked down at me and put his arms around me waist, pressing his hands against my ass, pushing me tightly into him.

"Let them see, who cares," he grunts, leaning his head down to kiss me.

I dodge his kiss and laugh out.

"I need to shower desperately, I've been traveling for ten hours Donovan... and you stink."

I look to the car and then Donovan.

"Where's Stephen?" I ask curiosity, as I didn't see his car anywhere.

Letting go of me, he goes to pick up his shirt that was folded on top of a moving box.

"You just missed him, he had to head into work for a few hours."

"Oh," I hum out, that's that then. "I still can't believe you're fixing a beat-up car together, I thought you were lying when you told me last week you went to the scrap yard, with Stephen of all people."

The more I look, the more insane it feels, Donovan was a billionaire with money to burn or give away, he could have any car he wanted but with all his spare time with stepping down as CEO, he's had a lot of time on his hands.

Which meant he was trying a lot of things he had always wanted to do but didn't have the time to do in the past.

It was perfectly fine with me, it was cool to see him not just laying around bored and with my work taking me out the country more, I didn't have to worry as much about him with Stephen around.

"It's looking good."

Laughing huskily, Donovan grabs my hand and walks me out the garage and into the house.

"How did the last filming take go?"

I thought he'd never ask.

"Amazing," I sigh, still excited from finishing filming on my first ever movie. "I can't believe it's over, I swear I feel like I've aged ten years," I laugh, making Donovan stare at me.

I've been so busy for the past two weeks that being home with Donovan is just what I needed to decompress and relax now that I was done until my next job.

"Now that you're done, I can have you all to myself again," he said, whispering into my ear as his deep voice sends chills down my spine.

Fuck me...

"Come on babe, I could use a shower too," he said as he pulled me along with him by my hand.

I feel so hot and bothered just from a simple thing... ugh, I really am so weak around him.

We reach our bedroom on the second floor and Donovan goes into the connecting bathroom to turn on the shower while I start and peel my clothes off.

Ugh it's so hot, what's up with this weather today?

I was hoping for something a little warmer but it's too hot and sticky.

Walking into the bathroom I freeze when I see Donovan, he was standing naked in the shower with his hair pulled back and his eyes on me as he scrubbed his body with soap, his shorts long gone as they laid on the bathroom floor.

That wasn't the only thing though.

His erection was rock hard and laid against his stomach.

"Aren't you going to join me?"

I swallow hard and take a step towards him, my heart beating a mile per minute as I look at just how fucking beautiful his body is.

For being an older man, he sure looks after himself... he's so damn handsome and sexy that some days I forget that he's all mine.

Donovan reaches out and pulls me in with him, the cold water hits my skin just as Donovan's hot skin presses against me.

"You're hard," he whispers in my ear, as his hand wraps around my manhood.

"It's your fault," I swallow the dryness in my mouth as I look at him.

Damn, he's so hot.

Without saying anything else, Donovan began stroking me under the water and started kissing my neck.

His stubble was tickling my skin and his kisses were getting me hotter, I was already struggling holding it in when I saw him and being away from him for a week... but now I could barely stand up straight.

"Fuck... Donovan," I groan, as his other hand went to grab my ass.

Donovan's hot breath on my neck was driving me to the edge, just touching him, having him next to me after not seeing him for a week made it all the worse, I just couldn't control myself, I had to touch him everywhere and anywhere my hands could reach.

Suddenly, Donovan grunts and moves away from my neck, then he drops down in front of me on his knees and then wastes no time by wrapping his hot mouth around my erection.

I was seeing stars the moment I closed my eyes, his mouth was out of this world and I was sure I was the luckiest guy alive right now because no feeling was better than having a man such as Donovan below you, greedily devouring you.

Fuck, I missed him so damn much.

Opening my eyes, I put my hands on either side of his head as Donovan's dark grey eyes look up at me, his eyes filled with amusement because he knows I'm close and there's nothing I can do to stop this.

My orgasm and release came moments later, his mouth was so good and it had felt like an eternity since the last time Donovan touched me intimately, it was impossible to hold back.

Donovan gets up and turns me around until he's pressing his large erection against my ass and his mouth is on the back of my neck as he leaves open mouth kisses, sending shivers down my spine.

"I love your body," he moans, pressing the tip of his erection at my entrance. "Fuck, I love everything about you."

His words were like ecstasy, I felt high in pleasure and all he has done is talk to me but that's all it took for me to fall deeply in love with Donovan, the master of words and toe-curling orgasms.

"Just put it in already," I groan, already at my limit.

Donovan laughs huskily, before leaning back, he put both of his hands on my hips and without warning, he slams into me forcefully, in a single thrust, until his entire monstrous erection was inside of me.

I didn't have time to speak as he began moving ferociously in and out of me, we were both impatient and wanted more of each other than ever before, he was so hard and throbbing inside of me that I knew he was close already.

For the past week this is all that I could think about, just being with Donovan felt like the biggest dream of all, work made me happy,and I was living my dream as an A list actor but nothing beat being married to Donovan Steele.

After what felt like hours of Donovan pounding his hips, punishingly and greedily, we both reached our peak and unleashed our pleasure together at the same time as the power dropped down around us.

I couldn't help but laugh, I was so extremely exhausted from working and traveling but all I could think of was how needy and cute Donovan was earlier and the way his eyes lit up when he saw me.

"What are you laughing at?" he asked, as he slowly pulled out of me.

I turn around and grin at him, his ears were red with blush and he was breathing heavily as he looked at me, he was so freaking handsome I just couldn't help but laughing harder.

Donovan smiled and shook his head as he started to wash the grease and oil from his body and face as I watched, a grin on my face as I shrugged and started to wash my own both with soap.

That reminds me... I wonder what the kids were talking about earlier?

"What was Jamie talking about earlier?"

Donovan looks at me and grunt.

"The school is holding a fundraiser for charity, Jamie's part of doing the newspaper a school and they need models to advertise with the animals they're putting up for adoption through the fundraiser."

So, he wanted Donovan to pose with dogs and cats to make sure they found homes?

"And you said no?" I frowned, wanting anything in this world to see him cuddle a cat or a dog in his strong sexy arms. "But I want to see that," I say, giving my best pout.

Donovan gives me a look which made me pout harder until he shook his head and washed the remining product from his hair.

"What if we both did it?" I suggest, as Donovan turns off the shower and steps out, grabbing a towel for me as he wraps a towel around his waist.

"You just got back and you know what kids are like," he says, as I rolled my eyes.

I followed him into our bedroom and watched him grab some shorts and put them on as I sat on the bed and watched him, holding back the smile that threatens to show at I look at Donovan.

"You're so cute," I couldn't help but saying as I laugh. "You're jealous."

Donovan smiles at me before throwing his towel at my face, making me grin as the tip of his ears remained red.

"What if we adopted one?" I suggested, as I got up and grabbed myself a pair of swimming shorts.

"A dog?" Donovan asks, a grimace on his face making me smile and then laugh out, shaking my head.

"A... kid," I looked away, my heartbeat rising

.I didn't want to bring this up like this but the more I spent around Jamie, the more I loved seeing Donovan being a father, he was good at it and I saw just how happy he was around his son, I wanted that to share with him.

It's no secret Donovan is older than me and I'm only twenty four but he's it for me and if I were to have kids with anyone, it'd be with Donovan.

"You want to adopt a kid?" he asked, staring at me as I bit my bottom lip, nervous to look at him.

Despite being married for six months now, I still felt intimidated when he looked at me like that but even so, it's something I've always thought about, especially since we got married and his best friend Stephen just had a baby with his girlfriend.

"What brought this on?" Donovan asks, coming to stand next to me, making me look at him. "What about work?" he asked, a frown on his face.

"Work isn't going anywhere Don," I said, smiling up at him. "Let's go outside, we don't have to talk about this right now."

Just then, I could hear Jamie and his girlfriend laugh outside as I also heard the splashing of water and when I moved away from Donovan, he reached out and grabbed my hand, making me halt and look at him.

"Come on, don't do this, let's talk about it," he said, holding me still, as my heartbeat started pounding in my chest, nervous of what he was going to say about it. "You've worked hard for your career Evan, if this is because of me..."

"It's not," I said quickly, his face looking unconvinced.

A silence filled the air before I heard Donovan scoff then laugh out huskily, making me look at him confused.

"Evan, if you want this then I'm all for it but don't give me that look, it makes me feel like I've done something wrong," he said smiling at me sadly. "I love you and having a child with you would only make me love you more, so if you're serious, then so am I."

My heart was beating so fast as I wrapped my arms around Donovan's neck, I felt like crying as his strong arms wrapped around me, his chin resting on my shoulder as his soft chuckles invade my ear.

"Let's talk about this tonight," he said before he pressed his lips to my neck, making me laugh as his stubble prickled my skin.

Tonight.

I wasn't expecting Donovan to consider kids, having already been a father to a son, but I was happy he wanted this with me and I really wanted this with him, the more I thought about, the more I wanted our family to expand.

"Come on babe, the kids are waiting," he joked as I rolled my eyes once he pulled back and took my hand in his, his sexy smile giving my stomach butterflies.

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rwprincess · 3 years ago

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Head Over Feet (Brian Johnson x Fem!Reader)

Masterlist

Word Count: 4.8k

Synopsis: What’s that sound? It’s another anachronistic Brian Johnson songfic! (Based on Alanis Morissette’s Head Over Feet) You’re one of Bender’s trash-punk friends and things change drastically when he brings the scrawny brain from detention with him to meet you all. Set up in snippets, your relationship develops with Brian, even if you weren’t really looking for a relationship.

CW: Teenage smoking (including reader), swearing, parental abuse (being being kicked out), sexism, angst and fluff

“This is Johnson,” Bender indicated the boy he brought along to your group’s spot under the bleachers.

“Brian, please.” The kid corrected. You eyed the gangly youth from top to bottom; in his sweater over a crisply-ironed collared shirt and khakis, he definitely didn’t fit in here with you all. You’d be called grungy punks at best. You didn’t think any of you even owned an iron and crisp definitely wasn’t your style. You blew out a puff of smoke, exhaling the nicotine from your lungs and shifted your gaze to Bender, wondering what he was at with this. He wasn’t the best guy, but pranking this preppy little nerd by bringing him down to your hangout? That seemed beneath him.

“You, uh, running some kinda charity here, Bender? We’re not exactly Make-A-Wish material, kid.” Scorch told the blonde dweeb and you snorted at the thought.

“Shut the fuck up,” was all Bender said in response. The rest of the twenty minutes of Brian Johnson standing there was of course, incredibly awkward and it was clear to everyone that he didn’t fit in. But that didn’t stop him from coming back a week later. And again a few days after that. And again and again until, well, that dork had grown on the lot of you. While he didn’t partake in cigarette smoking like most of you, he did take Bender up on his weed on several occasions and was actually really funny while high. He did weirdly spot-on impressions and had a sense of humor that none of your group had anticipated.

And, as much as you would vehemently deny it, you liked him when he was sober, too. He was incredibly smart and helpful and while his jokes were different without marijuana in his system, he could be amusing. That first awkward encounter was back in March, maybe April. But now you spent time with him without the convenience of school pulling you together. Now it was June and you sought to spend time with him, even without the group. Tonight, you were laying in a field not far from the high school, just the two of you. You liked to listen to him ramble on about the constellations and the myths about why they were named as they were. You remembered liking that as a kid, but you didn’t remember most of the stories. You knew you could ask him questions about the actual stars, too. Like, the science of it, and he would know. But you’d rather let him ramble and tackle one subject at a time. Even though he focused more on science and math, he was a pretty good storyteller, and right now that provided you with more of an escape than talking about the chemical composition of a star. When he finished his retelling of Ursa Minor’s story, however, he remained silent and didn’t start up a new piece of lore. After a moment, you looked at him to see what the hold up was, but you just caught his eye as his gaze was already fixed on you. Your heart started pounding in your chest because you knew what was coming.

“You know, we could go on an actual date some time.” Brian suggested, breaking the silence. You closed your eyes, almost wincing at the words. He was generally more subtle than this, but the same idea had been brought up before. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Brian. In general, you did, and in the honest depths of your soul, it was as more than a friend. But, every time it came down to this subject, you panicked. You had never been serious with anyone and the thought of dating was completely foreign to you. You had messed around with some guys before but you never had feelings for them. You didn’t know how to depend on another person, to have an actual relationship with them.

I had no choice but to hear you

You stated your case time and again

I thought about it

You sighed, your eyes still closed. You didn’t know what to tell him. Before, he always left it as more of a hint and it was easier to dodge. Now he was just coming out and saying it. Basically asking you out, so you would actually have to turn him down this time. The terrible thing was, you didn’t really want to. The conscious side of you wanted to agree and go out with him, on a proper date. But your subconscious kicked you into fight or flight mode and if you weren’t in the middle of a field, you might have picked flight and walked away. But that didn’t seem to be an option.

“Look, Johnson. It’s not that easy. Just...don’t waste your time on me.”

“I’m already wasting my time on you.” He pointed out, but when you took a peek at him, he didn’t seem upset about it. He was actually grinning about it. “We’re already wasting our time out here. Or at the library, or under the bleachers… So why not like, a movie theater or dinner, or my house?”

“Oh yeah, your mom would love having me around.” You joked, humorlessly. The smattering of times you had met Brian’s mother hadn’t gone swimmingly. You could read the derision in her voice and knew she did not approve of her good little baby hanging out with a ne’er-do-well like you.

“She’d come around. You’re different once someone actually gets to know you.” He meant it as a compliment, but you took it as your out.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You leapt up, indignantly and he just gaped at you like a fish out of water.

“I didn’t mean anything bad by it, I swear!” He put his hands up defensively as you looked down at him. “Forget it, I’m sorry.” You had victory, he dropped the subject and your friendship could last another night and you could try to pretend like he wasn’t right, that you two weren’t meant to be something more.

*~~~~*

You treat me like I'm a princess

I'm not used to liking that

You ask how my day was

For the most part, working at Bert’s auto shop felt worthwhile and valuable. Other days, it chewed you up and spit you out. It was hard being in such a masculine environment and not fitting into that type. Customers (mostly men, but even the women too) thought that you were less knowledgeable and handy than your cohorts. Bender’s teasing didn’t help that image, either.

Now you slid into the booth at Gino’s pizzeria utterly deflated and defeated. Of course, Brian took notice right away. “Rough day?” He inquired, pushing a menu towards you even though he knew you ordered the same thing every time.

“That’s not even the half of it. Why does Bender hafta be such a dick all the time?!” You asked, incredulously but sincerely, diving right into your problem.

“I don’t know. I think he thinks it’s part of his charm? Maybe it is. I mean, we’re still friends with him.” You nodded at his point, but clenched your fists just the same.

“I just wish he knew when to back off sometimes. Like, he never realizes he’s taking it too far and digging you further into a shithole.”

“What did he do this time?” Brian’s gaze on you was unbroken; it made you feel important, like your opinion, your story, was the only thing that mattered.

“So we got this old guy in the shop today. Beautiful car, so of course he was hesitant with me touching it.” You began and his eyebrows furrowed, already not liking the direction this was going. “And I’m trying to prove myself worthy to work on this car, even though I would just be doing an oil change, which isn’t like a big deal anyway, right? Simple stuff.” You looked to him to get acknowledgement to move forward.

“I mean, I guess. I don’t really know about oil changes or anything about cars. But I know you do.”

“Right, so Bender has to go and make a crack to the old guy about how they won’t let me near it and I’m just the secretary for the shop or whatever. Just a total dick move. But of course the guy believed him and laughed with him and sent me to go get him a cup of coffee? I mean, what the hell is that?”

“That’s not right. And you wear a mechanic’s uniform at work, why would he think--?”

“Because macho man Bender told him I was! He was more believable than me.” You sank back and put a hand up to brace your forehead as the waitress approached the table. You prepared to order your drink when she set down exactly what you would have ordered in front of you and walked away, promising to come back in a few minutes. You blinked at the cup as if it magically had appeared.

“I uh, figured you’d get the usual and you’d need it when you got here, so I ordered for you. I hope that’s okay.” Brian said and then looked away, suddenly embarrassed by the idea. Since he wasn’t looking at you anyway, you allowed your lips to twitch up into a smile threatening to break out on your face...but only for a moment.

“Yeah, whatever. So anyway, Bender…” you carried on, pretending nothing happened, but secretly cataloguing his gesture in your memory.

*~~~~*

The only thing worse than arguing with Brian or him pissing you off was him making you laugh. There were times that you would go home with sore sides and itchy eyes from the tears that formed while laughing so hard. Then you would always, always reflect on the hours you just spent together, feeling the warmth and butterflies tickle your insides and a nervous heat would prickle your skin as you thought about how happy Brian made you. He never pushed you to do anything; he liked you the way you were. Sure, he would drop hints here and there about how you should stop smoking or give you advice when you had a particularly bad argument with one of your friends, but overall, he just accepted you. And you knew how hard that was to find.

You had never been popular and when junior high rolled around, you accepted that you never would be. You found your own little group of outcasts who understood what it was like to be kicked down time and again, and now he had somehow joined that group too. You knew he understood how it felt. Even though he looked different and came from a very different social circle, he had been looked down upon by his peers all his life. You were guilty of judging him the same way when you first met him, but now you couldn’t imagine life without him. He was cut of the same cloth and you could see yourself in him, which is why you just clicked. And he was so kind and so patient with you. You tried to push him away dozens of times, to put up the barriers and the walls that worked so well for everyone that came before him; you couldn’t be hurt if you never got attached. Where most people gave up and only saw the cold, distant bitch you gave them, Brian always saw something more. He didn’t give up in breaking down those walls, and even accepted just being your friend. That made you love him even more.

Shit, wait. Did you just think about loving Brian? A crush is one thing. Having a buddy to fool around with is one thing. Being in love was quite another.

You've already won me over in spite of me

Don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet

Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are

I couldn't help it

It's all your fault

*~~~~*

Mercedes Johnson was all about keeping up appearances, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t hear her arguing with Brian on the other side of the door, about you. Again. You had known from the second you met her that she didn’t like you. She was instantly worried about the influence you’d have on her son; it was a common reaction from parents based on the way you looked and the company you kept. You would think you’d be used to it by now.

However, it truthfully bothered you more because this was Brian’s mother. You were hoping that she would be different and see the person underneath like her son had, or at the very least, that she would eventually warm up to you. You had no luck with either.

“I’m not comfortable with having her over at the house right now.” You could hear her tell Brian.

“She’s my friend, ma. Of course she’s going to come over--”

“I’m aware of that but you know I wish she weren’t. I would prefer that you keep the company of other friends.” The formality of her sentences while she was still cruelly putting you both down made you cringe.

“You don’t know her because you won’t give her a chance. She’s not that different from my other friends.”

“You have friends in the Physics Club, from Knowledge Bowl, Honor Students. You don’t need the association with a hoodlum like that or John Bender and I don’t know why you keep insisting on bringing them into my home when I have repeatedly told you no. I don’t want them around your sister, or even you!”

“Fine. Then we’ll leave.” You heard the door swing open harshly and Brian was motioning for you to follow him out of the house.

“Brian Ralph Johnson!” You heard his mother cry after the two of you. Brian held open the front door for you and you looked at him cautiously before rushing out. You knew you weren’t wanted there, but you were worried that he wouldn’t come with you. You were even more worried that he would. “You are not leaving this house.” Mercedes put on the most intimidating tone you had witnessed her use.

“No, I am. We are. I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t bother coming back tonight if you walk out of this house!” She was now pink-faced and losing all of the reserved, polished look you had seen her have. She had never been so...uncomposed.

“Don’t worry. I won’t.” Brian said and grabbed you by the elbow as he escorted you down the driveway to your car. He immediately got into the passenger seat and as you sunk behind the steering wheel, you glanced at him.

“Brian, this is stupid. You don’t have to---you shouldn’t do this.” The whole situation reminded you of the many times you had been kicked out of your house. This was just another home you weren’t welcome in.

He clenched his jaw in response. “Let’s just go. I’ll figure it out later. Please, just drive.”

Your love is thick and it swallowed me whole

You're so much braver than I gave you credit for

That's not lip service

“Your mom gave you a choice, you know. It’s not like she told you to get out. She actually told you not to leave.” You said as you both sat on the trunk of your car, looking out across the field that was slowly turning to a golden hue, both from the afternoon sun and the change into autumn. Neither of your houses were really an option to go to, so you just chose the empty field that you would look at stars in during the summer.

“It’s not like it was really a choice though, was it? I’m tired of her trying to control every part of my life. I need to start thinking for myself, doing things for myself. She needs to understand that I’m going to do what I want, and like who I want to like.” He looked at you meaningfully for a moment, but you looked away quickly. It was too heavy for you to process right now.

“That’s a big step. I’m really impressed with you for standing up for yourself.” You told him, and he gave you an appreciative, heart-stopping smile in return that caused your cheeks to flush. Your parents had shouted at you to leave so many times before, any time you were ‘inconvenient’ for them, that it was hard to relate to someone who chose not to stay. But you wanted to support him and you did feel proud of him today. You thought back to the most recent event in which you had been dismissed from your family, and how you had tried to take it out on Brian:

You slammed your locker and watched him almost jump out of his skin. “I don’t want to talk about this.” You growled at Brian.

“I understand that, but you need to. You can’t just--”

“Just what?”

“You can’t just act like nothing happened or run away from it...run away from here.” You had been disciplined at school yet again and your parents had had enough. You had a big fight with them the night prior and did not sleep in your own bed. The tiredness racked your body today and you were stiff from sleeping in your car. If it weren’t for the social aspect, you wouldn’t have bothered coming to school. But you quickly realized you weren’t in the mood to talk to anyone, and you were only making the situation worse.

“Like hell I can’t.” You stated, quickly turning to walk away.

“Y/N, don’t. Come on, talk to me. Tell me what happened. We can figure it out together.”

“There’s nothing to figure out, bucko. I’ll be fine. I’ll do this on my own. I’m used to that anyway.”

“But you don’t have to be alone, Y/N. That’s what I’m saying! That’s my whole point: I’m here for you!”

“I didn’t ask you to be, Brian.”

“No, because friends don’t have to ask.” His words scared you. Nobody had so adamantly offered to be a safety net to you before.

“Yeah,” you scoffed, “we’re great friends. We’ve bonded so much in the, what, four months you’ve known me?” You rolled your eyes, trying to make him feel uncomfortable, to drive a wedge between you. You only knew how to put up walls, how to run.

“You know we are.”

“Yeah, sure, right. Friends. Not like you want to sleep with me or anything.” You tried to drive another knife into him, to play it off like he was following you only because he had a crush on you, one you tried to pretend wasn’t reciprocated. “It’s not going to happen, Brian. So just accept that we’re not friends.”

He let you get about three steps away before you heard him say, “No. I know what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work. Sure, part of me wants something more, but...I care about you, Y/N. And if we can just be friends, I am happy with that, I swear. But don’t do this to me. Don’t try to shut me out or walk away or act like you’re fine. I know you well enough to know you’re not.” When you turned around, you could see that he had tears rimming his eyes, threatening to fall, which made your own tears spring up as well. “I am your friend. I’m not going to just let you go and do something stupid. You are going to talk about this. If not to me, then someone else. But you can’t just run away or sleep in your car or, or…”

“Okay.” You said, softly.

“Okay?”

“Fine, let’s talk about it. I screwed up again and my parents kicked me out. So what do I do?”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I...we’ll think of something.” He began to tell you, but you bit your lip and drowned him out in your own sobs. Everything crashed in on you at once; you hadn’t escaped in time. You slid down your locker wall and sat on the floor. Brian joined you and put his arm around you tentatively.

You are the bearer of unconditional things

You held your breath and the door for me

Thanks for your patience

After that day, you knew he wouldn’t let you go. You tried your best to brush him off, to hurt him, to land irreparable blows. But it was all in vain; he stuck by you. You admired how he stood up for you, for your relationship, whatever that meant. He didn’t back down, even though you knew he genuinely cared what you thought. He was willing to put everything on the line just to be with you, in whatever capacity you would allot him. And today, he had chosen you again. He had picked a fight with his mother and chosen you. He placed you above being safe and comfortable and at home right now.

“I’m sorry, this must seem so stupid to be complaining about. I know I don’t have it that bad, it’s just that--”

“No, your problems are valid, too. Your mom sucks.” You told him and he laughed, “But I would be lying if I said it wasn’t...weird to have someone be given the choice to stay instead of being yelled at to get out and that you’re worthless and---I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make this about me.” You said softly, looking down at your hands.

“No, I get it. It’s gotta be on your mind a lot, the uncertainty. Plus, I don’t mind talking about you.” He nudged your shoulder with his own, trying to be playful but you knew he meant that. He always put you first. You couldn’t help your next impulse as your hand shot up to cup his face and you leaned in and kissed him roughly. You weren’t entirely sure why you had done it. It would probably change everything and you couldn’t tell if you were doing it selfishly to feel like someone cared or to keep him around or because you truly wanted to. Of course, he kissed you back, and the feeling it gave you pushed a lot of those doubts from your mind.

You're the best listener that I've ever met

You're my best friend

Best friend with benefits

What took me so long?

*~~~~*

The kiss in the field still didn’t mean you were “together.” Realistically, it complicated things for a while. You avoided Brian for a couple of days and didn’t discuss it when you finally caved in to your desire to see him. He didn’t bring it up either, even though there were many times he would look at your lips like he wanted to make a move again, but you never talked about it. Things began to look “normal” after about two weeks. You spent time at the record shop, or under the bleachers with your friends or in the library with his friends. He nagged you about giving up smoking and you finally listened, much to his surprise.

“What made you finally decide to quit?” He asked, looking at the nicotine patch on your arm. You shrugged, not wanting to tell him the truth.

“I guess I just finally got tired of you being a broken record, mother hen.” You teased him, but he just smiled because he was happy with your choice. The truth of the matter was, you had done it for him. While you weren’t with him, you wanted to be. You didn’t want to keep doing something that bothered him so much, but you also knew that eventually, your habit of smoking would cost time with him and you didn’t want that. You lied to yourself that you didn’t want a relationship and weren’t thinking about a future with Brian, but you were. Every time he helped you study or encouraged you to do your best, the time your parents were out of town so he had made you his “specialty” of spaghetti in your kitchen, when you drove him around singing songs together on the radio...you thought about doing those things with him forever and instead of the fear you used to feel at such a thought, you felt happiness. You anticipated a future with him, something to look forward to.

I've never felt this healthy before

I've never wanted something rational

I am aware now

*~~~~*

“It’s kind of weird, yeah. But they’re cute together, I guess.” You had just returned from a movie with Bender and Claire. You were surprised at how long their relationship had lasted, especially since you had hated Claire at first. You assumed she was dating Bender as a statement, but it had been over six months and they were still together and it just seemed to work.

“It must be nice to have someone like that. Even if they don’t make sense, they care about each other. It just must be a nice thing to have a relationship like that.” Brian looked at you for a moment before backpedaling, realizing he must have made it sound like he was guilt-tripping you. “Don’t worry, I won’t ask you out again. I really just was complimenting them--”

“Well, maybe you should.” You cut him off.

You realized how rare a find like Brian truly was. He always put you before himself; he listened to all of your problems and knew when to offer solutions and when to just listen. He was endlessly supportive, and kind. He kept taking giant risks just to be with you, to show you that you mattered to him. You knew, without him saying it, that he loved you. Why else would someone go to the lengths he did, just to make you happy? You had tried everything to shake him, to get rid of him so neither one of you would be in too deep to get hurt. But he stayed, and now, you wouldn’t want him to go anyway. It was too late; you were both already in too deep.

He just blinked at you, sure he had heard incorrectly. “Wh-what?”

“I said, maybe you should. Ask me out again.”

“Y/N, do you want to go out with me?” He asked, unsure. It felt like a setup, but he knew you wouldn’t do something so cruel to him.

“Yes.” You replied, softly.

“Why?” He asked with furrowed eyebrows.

“I don’t know. I guess you won me over.” You chuckled, but he failed to see the humor in it, so you changed to a more serious tone. “Brian, I thought that these feelings would go away, that you would go away. Lord knows how hard I’ve tried to push you. But...you didn’t and the feelings didn’t. I-I love you. And I’m pretty sure I’m going to keep loving you, I don’t want to waste my time with anyone else. And...And I think that you love me.”

“I do.” He breathed quietly, with zero hesitation.

“So, why fight it any more? I was afraid that I would hurt you, but I think I’ve already done that and you’ve stuck around.” He nodded in confirmation of that fact. “And I was scared that I would get hurt but...but I’ve realized that you won’t do that to me, either.”

You've already won me over in spite of me

Don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet

And don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are

I couldn't help it

It's all your fault

He took your hands in his, “You’re serious? You really want this? Because, you know how I feel. How I’ve always felt.” You nodded in response, tears quickly filling your eyes, which was a rarity for you. He leaned in towards you to kiss you, for the first time since your conversation in the field over a month ago. He waited for you to be ready in every aspect of your relationship and you had never known so much love and respect before. It took some adjusting to, but he had pulled you in and made you fall for him again and again.

Just gonna tag my buddy...

@90sinequity

#brian johnson x reader #brian x reader #breakfast club #the breakfast club #reader insert #reader-insert #romance #mild angst #angst with a happy ending

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thessalian · 2 years ago

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Thess vs Spoon Budgeting

I have no idea how I got through this week, but I got through this week. Even with the metaphorical kick in the face I got in the last fifteen minutes of my workday today.

But first ... this week. I made a discovery this week. Temp has got so, so much better at taking the long complicated bits of typing once in awhile. Goblin ... has not. In fact, most of the problem has been Goblin all along, which is why I’m kind of glad I only brought it up to Temp once. I’m probably not going to say anything about or to Goblin about it, because ... well, she’s a goblin. After her blowing up at me the other month when she kept insisting on giving me a solution to a problem I told her repeatedly that I did not have (she was giving me grief about not picking up the phone and apparently “I can’t hear it when it rings most of the time” equals “I literally cannot take the call”, even though I explained the whole thing to her in detail three times before I mentioned that she didn’t seem to be listening to me and she took that as an accusation like unto the direst insult), she’s mostly not talking to me beyond “good morning” when I get into the office (and an “Eugh, I won’t have that” the one time I made an effort to offer her some of the tasty treats I brought into the office). Anyway, point is that I don’t really want to awaken that beast even more. I don’t have the spoons.

Mostly I don’t have the spoons because the commute has been varying levels of insane all week. The 168 was hella unreliable for the best part of two weeks, and then yesterday the Stop Oil protesters decided to block off St George’s Circus, which prevents most of the traffic coming out of Elephant and Castle from getting to most of central London. Which means that it prevented most of south London from getting to most of central London. Which included my bus route. Which meant the Tube again, after a massively long diversion. And then of course, the route home was all about the bus driver going, “Hey, we’re throwing you off at Waterloo because reasons”.

Today ... well, I thought today was going to be okay because my usual “gets me to work just early enough to grab something from the corner shop and chill before I go in” bus actually turned up, and hadn’t quite left when my first bus pulled up behind it. Unfortunately, it was crammed to the proverbial rafters with what were pretty clearly secondary school music students, all carrying instruments, and seats were at a premium. I wound up on the outside of one of the two-people seats with a woman a bit larger than I am who was kind of lounging in the seat. I’m not judging for the large; I’m judging for the elbows, which she used to take up as much space as possible and jabbed me with more than a few times. Hell, when I’m sharing a seat with someone, I at least make an attempt to keep myself contained. So, yeah, the strain of trying to stay upright when we went around tight corners was pretty bad and on the whole, this whole week’s commute has been of the suck.

Which brings me to the metaphorical kick in the face. Scruffman knows full well how shitty the commute has been. He knows I wouldn’t be doing this shit if I didn’t have to. And I had a conversation with Temp just yesterday - right behind his seat, I might add - about how the work from home thing seems to have stalled because the person I was told to speak to directly has not responded to either of my emails. But at quarter to four, I get an email from him - an email forward from Head Honcho asking if my Access to Work was sorted and if I still needed anything for the work from home deal.

A note about the Access to Work thing: it’s not a thing I can actually do at this stage. The reasons are stupid, but they exist. I had to reapply because of increase in car fares as a result of ... well... *gestures at economic shambles*. Thing is, one of the things you have to do is ask for three quotes from car firms. So I went on one of those websites and got the quotes and they came up with a sort of budget for the year from that because I am supposed to pay at least as much as I would for a normal commute myself, and they make up the rest. So either I pay for the whole thing out of pocket and they reimburse me on receipt of a claim form, or I set up an account with a car firm and let them pay into that with my making up the difference. The problem is that none of the three car firms whose quotes made up my Access to Work allotment will open an account under those circumstances. As to paying for it myself and getting reimbursement ... it’s about £40 each way. That’s £320 per week, thus approaching £1300 per lunar month, never mind calendar month. I work part time. I can’t afford to pay them a month in advance and wait for reimbursement. And any firm that might open an account on that basis will probably be more expensive ... and y’know what? I don’t have the spoons for this, either. I can’t spend however long doing this kind of secretarial legwork. I already do that shit for my job. I’m already doing that level of chasing for the work from home thing they promised me nearly fifteen months ago. If I’m going to suffer depression, frustration, and a total lack of spoons, I want to know that’s what’s going to happen, instead of keeping getting my hopes up and then having to do the shitty commute anyway while trying to work it all out.

Not to mention ... it’s not just the fucking commute. The commute is bad, yes. However, so is the couple of hundred yard walk to a toilet, and the tea room. It’s the desk chair that’s still shitty despite being the best chair we actually have in the office, and the desk that’s just the wrong height for my personal ergonomic situation. (I have a high waist and my leg-to-torso ratio is a bit off as a result; it’s a thing.) It’s not having any space because Goblin keeps leaving her chair pushed out to smack against mine whenever she leaves her desk, and there’s no desk in the place that would be any better. It’s not being able to do a decent lunch. The office is not good for me. I have made that point to them countless times. Still I get this. Access to Work is not the solution here. Even if the car firms in my area weren’t being understandably leery about opening an account that would be paid by two separate parties.

The national news isn’t any better. Yeah, the chancellor got sacked. Thing is, a) that solves precisely dick because most of the policies that freaked everyone out so badly that it tanked the pound were the PM’s idea, and b) she’s put Jeremy Hunt into the role. Look, he was the health secretary for awhile, and kind of shat the bed at that, and he was the foreign secretary for awhile and didn’t do overly well there either and ... okay, the way in which he ‘did not do well’ is part of why so many people made so much about how Hunt rhymes with a specific bit of genitalia, if you get me. The only good news is that Truss had to scrap the planned cuts to corporation tax (which is why she sacked Kwarteng in the first place - he kept insisting that they weren’t going to do any U-turns on the mini-budget, even when they already did by keeping the rate of tax at 45% for earnings over £150k ... and also he’s being made the scapegoat). But at the moment, Truss still has no mandate, the entire country’s in shambles, most people are desperately calling for a general election because this is just getting stupid now ... and then there’s King Jug-Ears. I’m not much on the monarchy, as you know ... but the fact that she turned up to her second private-ish audience with the sovereign and the response she got from him was, “Back again? Dear oh dear. Anyway...” in the most passive-aggressive sort of way? It just warms my heart just a little. (I still want the whole monarchy to sod off, though.)

So anyway, weekend. I do have plans to start up my next project (flavoured lip balm), but only if I feel a little less like freeze-dried death at any point this weekend. I did stop at the big Tesco on the way home today and picked up some treats - steak, acorn squash, and some more fixings for the refrigerator dill pickles because I seriously did just devour the almighty hell out of the last ones and I require more. It’s nice that the fixings for, like, four jars of the pickles I like better cost less than one regular jar of what they call gherkins over here. And at least it’s not that much work. Boil a thing, let it cool overnight, pour over cucumber spears and dill and garlic, wait. ...As Tom Petty said, the waiting’s the hardest part. Anyway, not money I planned to spend, but things I sorely need.

#Thess has a day job #Thess has a commute #Thess on politics

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loser-hub · 4 years ago

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Valentine's Day Headcannons! Is it early? Yes! Do I care? Not a bit! A part two with some Pro's is coming soon!

Warnings: A hint of spice here and there, all characters are aged up to 21+ at least!

Izuku Midoriya

Has had your date planned for a month, at least, having planned since Christmas.

Valentine's Day is the day about love, couples, expressing your feelings and spending time with your significant other. Or that's what every commercial says when the month changes, bombarding everyone with pink, red and kisses.

Izuku soaks up every moment of it like a sponge.

He's not the best at expressing his feelings, always stuttering and tripping over himself, so he relies on acts of devotion, affection of gift giving to show you how much he appreciates and loves you.

Has a notebook dedicated to the day. Countless scribbles about what you like, what you don't, what you're allergic to, and any fact that could help him plan the perfect date.

The day starts and its all about you from the get go.

Gets you clean with a bath with candles, rose petals, bath bombs, bath oils, the absolute works. Spent way too much time and money at Bath & Bodyworks picking out your favorite things in case you were low.

Nervously picks at his nails while he waits, now second guessing himself and doubting if he might've gone overboard with everything.

Invite him in and he'd be on Cloud Nine!

The rest of the day goes however you'd like, whatever you want and he's at your beck and call. Driving you around to your favorite stores to staying home and chilling out on the couch, he just wants to spend time with you and see you happy. If you're happy then he's happy!

After getting cleaned Izuku takes you up to this scenic hill outside the city that looks over a field of flowers, allergy pills at the ready! He sets down a plaid blanket and breaks out his picnic basket full of your favorite foods and drinks.

He'll keep you there until the sun sets, holding you close to his chest as you two watch the sky turn to pinks and oranges.

Bakugou Katsuki

The polar opposite of Izuku's feverish planning.

He's more of an "oh, it's V-Day? Cool, I guess" kind of guy.

Shows up at your door out of the blue, no warning, no nothing, a box of chocolates under his arm as he thrusts a bouquet of flowers into your face. "Coincidentally" your favorite kind.

"Saw it was Valentine's Day and I'd be a fucking shitty boyfriend if I didn't bring you something, I guess. Get dressed, we're going out...somewhere...wherever you want."

Drags you out and pulls you along, opening his car door for you, closing it, being the gentleman that he secretly is.

Takes you to a little café on the outskirts of town he found one evening while patrolling, it seemed really nice and cute and thought of you when he saw it. So why not take you here for a little date?

Hands stuffed in his pockets he wanders inside, glued to your side.

Although like Deku, he's not the greatest at verbal affection. Sure he can scream and yell his feelings in anger but expressing how he felt about you? That stumped him.

Bakugou also prefers acts of service and gift giving as his love language, this man cannot articulate his love for you to save his life.

So moments like these are the most endearing moments of his character.

Let's you order whatever you want and subconsciously gets the same so you both can talk about how good/bad it was and so, if you did like it, he could cook it for you at home.

Shoto Todoroki

Oh dear please help this poor boy.

He has no idea what Valentine's Day is.

You'd have to be the one to suggest doing something or surprise him with a date, because he has no idea.

Its not that he doesn't care but he's simply never put stock into the lovey dovey holiday meant for couples, love and all that.

Show up at his door for a change!

He'll be pleasantly surprised and oh-so happy to see you there, even if he's rushing out the door so Enji, Natsuo and Fuyumi don't get wind of your arrival.

You'll never be left alone if they realize your there.

He prefers to drive, he doesn't know why but being in a car with you driving to a restaurant is strangely domestic. Since it is V-Day and you've so nicely explained to him what it means and the context around the holiday, you two decide to go to a fancy upscale place for a change.

Shoto decides to go all out, taking himself and you to a dressing shop and has you pick out an outfit while he gets a black suit with a red tie.

Its not often Shoto cleans himself up but when he does, wow.

Not to worry about reservations, all he has to do is show up and break out his gold credit card and the receptionist's eyes bug out of her head. Being Endeavor's kid has its perks on occasion and the staff takes you two to a secluded booth specifically for hero's and their partners.

Lit by candlelight you two share a multiple course meal, desert and feed each other rose topped chocolates.

An overall cheesy yet romantic date that he'll never forget.

Tomura Shigaraki

He's one of the ones whose bombarded with lovey dovey shit the second January turns to February.

Every MMO RPG in his collection does a Valentine theme in some way so its impossible for him to escape all the pink and red.

Those are the worst two weeks of the year.

He drops everything and plunges himself to the most gorey and eventless games he can find to get his mind off V-Day...well, before you came along.

Now seeing the themed events makes him pause, change his mind even, reconsider if you feel so inclined.

It all came to a head once he saw matching skins. Husband and wife, partners in crime, the list was endless for the game you two played together. Yep, he was going to do something.

Going out of the hideout during a busy holiday like today was out of the question so you rightfully suspected nothing would happen, Shigaraki wasn't going to whisk you away to a secluded hill and have a picnic. He wasn't that kind of man and he might scrape off bits of skin if put in that kind of situation anyways.

Nope, instead you were scooped up off the couch and hauled to his room. Plopped right down in the other chair of your couples gaming setup.

Your headphones on, game loaded up, hand on the mouse and your boyfriend mumbling how he needed "help" for the event.

"Tch, don't read too much into it Player Two, I get more XP if I'm in a group so you're coming with me. Just be my Love Healer and I'll DPS our way through the bosses."

Needless you weren't going to ask why your character was suddenly in a frilly dress with a bouquet instead of your normal staff.

Dabi

The most casual and uninspired ass you can possibly imagine.

Days all mix and warp together for Dabi so he doesn't know what day it is until he sees an abnormal amount of couples out and about. The shameless displays of affection was nauseating.

But hey, the shopkeeps were too busy with entitled Karens to notice some of their stock had gone missing.

No one pays attention to the burnt chicken nugget holding a massive stuffed bear and a plastic bag full of sweet on today of all days, normally he has to keep to the streets and be a sneeki beeki boi but this is the one day except for Halloween that he can get away with being in public. The stuffed animal a convenient hiding place when he gets looks.

His cover is blown when the plush is pushed into your open window first. He loves hearing your scream of surprise when he sneaks in but he can't do that very well with a four foot bear on his back...maybe next year.

Gets everything set up while you're worrying over him and making sure he wasn't seen or followed. You're too cute for your own good, worrying about him over yourself and what the police would do if they found out.

Today is definitely needed, for both of you. Time alone to just chill and cuddle.

Wrapped up in blankets, drinking some shitty stolen wine, eating sweets and laughing at how stupid the main characters of the rom-com marathon are.

The morning after you find yourself alone but at least now you'll never fall asleep alone with your Dabi scented teddy bear.

#valentine's day #Valentine's day headcannons #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #izuku midoria x reader #deku x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #shoto todoroki #tomura shigaraki x reader #dabi x reader #tw: fluff #tw: mild spice

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theyreonlynoodlesmike · 4 years ago

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Melting Wax, Crawling Vines (Vincent Sinclair x Fem!Reader)

Next Chapter ->

Warnings: knife mention, implied running away

Word Count: 2093

I'm warning y'all now that this is gonna be one of the darkest, if not the darkest, series I've ever written. There will be major trigger warnings later, and if you check out my ao3 you can get a feel for how bad they will be. Otherwise, enjoy!

You stared at the underneath of the hood of your car. Something was wrong, you just didn't know what . Sure, you knew how to change a tire and how to check your oil. You could probably put in a new battery if you really needed to. But when it came to just about everything else, well - You didn't know your ass from your elbows. It didn't help that you didn't necessarily have a tool box in your car. You used to, but you'd taken it out to make space for your move. Yeah, you had just about everything you owned that would fit into your little station wagon packed into it. Except a toolbox. The rest of your belongings was in a truck, which was definitely gonna make it to your new apartment before you did at this rate.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as the Louisiana sun beat down on your neck. It was early July. You thought making the move before the fall started would've been a good decision, and it was one you'd stand by, but you just wished it wasn't so hot . It was early afternoon and the sun was at its highest. You swiped at the sweat on your brow, shut the hood of your car, and went to get the map out of your glove box. You tried to pinpoint where you were, but it was nearly impossible without any nearby towns to use as a landmark. Finally, you realized what you needed to do. Just as the first car you'd seen pass by started coming down the road.

You waved your hand, trying to flag down the blue chevrolet truck that was speeding down the back road. You almost expected it to pass you, but it slowed down to a stop. When it did, the first thing that hit you was the smell. You tried not to make a face of disgust as a man with a dirty face lowered his window to greet you. His driver side door was red, and he grinned out from under a green cap.

"Hi, there. Need a hand?" He asked, and you gave him a grateful smile. He'd stepped out to assess the damage, rubbing his hands together as he came towards your vehicle. You guessed the roadkill in the back was the cause of the smell, and you were too polite to comment. Instead, you told him your name and said,

"I'm having car trouble, but I- Well, I don't really know what's wrong with it." And the man responded with,

"The names Lester," And he paused to give you a friendly grin. "I'll take a look and see if I can figure it out." He said, and you quickly thanked him. You watched as his eyes landed on the things stuffed into your car. "You heading somewhere?" He asked, and you rubbed your neck before you helped him pop open the hood.

"I'm moving, or, at least, trying to." You supplied the name of the town you were moving to, and he gave you a grin as he looked up from where he'd been studying the interior of your vehicle to say,

"Oh, I know that town. About an hour- hour and a half from here?" And you nodded. That'd been your original estimate for your arrival. Now, you were lucky if you made it there today. The two of you chatted politely, but he ended up closing the hood with a click and shaking his head. "I'm sorry, miss, but this is beyond me." He admitted, and you still said,

"Well, thank you for trying. Do you happen to know if there's a tow-truck company nearby- Or a mechanic?" You asked. He stared at you for a moment, and he almost looked hesitant to tell you. He was thumbing his chin, before he finally said,

"There's one about fifteen minutes from here." And you tilted your head. You hadn't seen any towns on your map, let alone one that close. But you weren't one to argue with a local. He continued, saying, "Bo runs the car shop in Ambrose. I can take you if you want." And gratitude filled you. While you knew he was a strange man, you weren't exactly in the position to deny the kindness of strangers. Plus, Lester seemed harmless, even if you knew from experience that you weren't always the best judge of characters. Still, you reminded yourself that it was either hitch a ride with him or wait for the next car to come along. If any did come along . So, you pushed away any potential paranoia and asked,

"Are you sure? Only if it won't be too much trouble." You said, and you watched the way his grin grew wider and wider.

"No trouble at all, miss." And that was all it took for you to pile into Lesters truck. You brought a backpack of yours, and filled it with your wallet, a water, and a change of clothes with all your toiletries. You figured, worse case scenario, you ended up renting a night at whatever motel Ambrose held while Bo, the man Lester had mentioned, tried to fix whatever was wrong with your car. You’d made sure to lock it, hoping that no one would strip or break into your car.

The smell was stronger in his truck, but you did your best to ignore it. You figured it would be impolite to mention it, and even moreso to ask him to roll down the windows. Lester wasn't one for silences, and he asked,

"So, why you moving out here anyways?" He asked, and you thought that was a fair question to ask. You were from a more populated city, and your new town was nowhere near as crowded. You pushed your hair behind your ear, and supplied,

"Oh, new job." And Lester was quick to ask before you could elaborate.

"Oh, congratulations. What do ya do?" And you gave him a smile. He was friendly and sweet, albeit a little rough around the edges. He was one of the friendlier people you'd met, and you figured your new town would be just swell if it had more people like him.

"I'm a teacher. I teach ASL." You told him, answering what you guessed his next question was going to be before he had the chance to ask. When he turned to look at you, a small bit of confusion on his face, you were quick to say, "American sign language." And clarity washed through his face.

"Oh, why they need a- an ASL teacher over there?" He asked, and you played with the edge of your jeans. You knew about the job description, but you didn't want to tell him that you'd jumped at the first opportunity you saw to fill a position. Hoped for something as far from your hometown as possible. As far away from- You stopped that train of thought. You didn't want to think about him . This was supposed to be a new start, and instead you told him,

"I'm teaching some older students as a night class," By older students, you meant adults. "And then some kindergarten students." And you watched as a laugh escaped his lips. He slapped his hand against the steering wheel, before he said,

"What do kindergartners need to know about sign language?" And you bit your lip. You felt as thought you'd given this talk about a thousand times before, but it didn't stop you before you said,

"Well, some of the kids are deaf, but some of them may just be nonverbal. This is a way for them to communicate when speaking feels like too much. And the night classes are for their parents, I'm assuming, so they can understand their kids. It's important, y'know, for them to have a way to express themselves, even if it's different from how most people do it. Some kids are just special cases." You explained it kindly with a shrug. Surely, it seemed obvious to you, but you were well aware that not everyone knew how useful the skill could be. He made a face, one where he nodded and jut out his lip. He rubbed his chin again, before he asked,

"Nonverbal, huh? Like mute?" He asked, and you gave him a nod. He nodded back, before looking out the windshield. "Sign language for mute kids. Express themselves. Huh." The truck was only silent for a beat. “You get lots of special cases?” He asked, and you couldn’t stop the smile that graced your lips.

"I specialize in special cases." You joked, and Lester was quick to laugh. He made a little hoot, seeming pleasantly surprised by your willingness to joke or perhaps by how comfortable you seemed with him. You smiled to yourself, enjoying the company of your new friend. Even if he wasn't from the town you were headed, it would be nice to know at least one person nearby. You'd started looking all around the truck, before your eyes fell on the man besides you. it'd been a quick glance over, getting a good look at him. You hadn't noticed it before, but you saw a knife on his hip when he lifted his shirt to mop at the sweat on the back of his neck. You'd barely glanced at it for a second before your eyes were being ripped away by his voice.

"You like knives?" He said, a tone of excitement in his voice. "Tools of the trade. You wanna see it?" And you agreed. He pulled it out, flashing the blade to you and said, "That's a bowie. Cut through anything." He said, and you agreed with a nod. To make conversation, you reached into your boot and pulled out a small pocket knife. It was much smaller compared to his, and you said,

"All I got is this, but it does the trick." And Lester let out a low whistle. He sheathed his knife back its holder, and you offered it out to him for him to examine. He pressed the button, letting the blade switch out. He looked it over. It was small and thin, but, as you said, it did the trick with most things.

"Didn't peg you as the type. What does a teacher need with a knife?" He asked as he passed it back to you, and you pushed the blade away as you answered.

"Oh, y'know, cutting up all the apples my students give me." You said, joking lightly. Lester grinned again, and you tucked your knife back into your boot. Again, you didn't want to actually get into why you had the knife with him. It was a layer of protection, something to make you feel safe. And, after the past couple of years, you weren't going to deny yourself anything extra to do that. He stopped the car, and you looked up to look around where you were. He had stopped seemingly in the middle of nowhere, right in front of a small creek. "Why- why'd we stop?" You asked him, and, for a moment, a flash of alarm rang through your head. You'd never been the best judge of character, and, for a moment, you were worried that you'd gotten yourself into another sticky situation. The same type of situation as to why you slept with that very knife under your pillow, why you'd decided to leave town- But Lester was as nonchalant as could be as he opened the door and stepped out. He said,

"Oh, I gotta flip my hubs into four wheel. You just sit tight, y'hear?" And the alarm inside your head faded. You slumped a bit, a wave of relief washing through you. He was looking at you, his hand on the door. You looked at him, the creek, and then back to him before you offered,

"You need any help?" And that same grin came over his face at your offer. He braced his arm against the open doorway as he asked,

"You know how to change a hub?" And you supposed that his skepticism was warranted. He did find you on the side of the road with a car that wasn't working. Still, you gave him a smile and sassed him just the tiniest bit as you said,

"I'm sure I can figure it out." Earning a smirk and swipe of his cheek from the man. He motioned for you to get out, and said,

"Alright then. Lemme get that door for you."

#house of wax #house of wax 2005 #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair #bo sinclair #mwcv #slashers

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twordytings · 3 years ago

Note

could you write a fic where the reader (female, tony's intern) lies about having a stomachache to get out of school/skip lessons, but he sees through her fib and begins to experimentally poke and prod at her tummy , and he ends up tickling her silly! I love ur work BTW ❤❤❤

Risky Business

(Tony x Reader)

Summary: When creating a lie convincing enough for Tony Stark to believe, it can find itself to be quite a challenge.

Word Count: 1,524

A/N: Awww thank u so much! This can be set after this fic, but u don’t need to read that one to understand this lol anyways I hope u like it<3

“Rise and shine!” Tony sang as he came into your room bright and early. It was a Wednesday, which meant you had school, and this week so far had been unusually exhausting. You were generally very good with balancing school and helping out Tony, so it came as quite a surprise that a normal week such as this one was so stressful. For some reason your professors had chosen this week to give exams, and it was draining you quicker than an oil tank.

You had woken up to your personal alarm named Tony, but kept your eyes closed as the sunlight peering through the windows was already threatening to open them.

“Five more minutes,” you mumbled as you turned your back to Tony while still under your covers.

“Nope,” he said as he ripped the covers off of you, making you whine in annoyance. “School awaits.”

“Ugh. Do I have to go today?” you groaned, finally opening your eyes, albeit gently as the sun decided to shine extra bright today.

“Every teenager under this roof must go to school today, right Pep?” he said as he turned to Pepper who was leaning against the door frame.

“Unfortunately he’s right this time, y/n… c’mon and get ready, okay? Happy’s waiting in the car,” she said to you with a warm smile.

“Fine,” you said as you sat up in your bed, sticking your tongue out at Tony who had a victorious grin splatted onto his face. The two left the room to leave you to get ready, and as they did, you had thought of something you never would have before today, but felt that in that moment it was the best idea in the world.

During the first few weeks of living with Tony, you were very shy: being careful about which rooms you went into, asking if you could eat certain things from the fridge and pantry, always making food for yourself, and residing in either your bedroom or the lab. Tony and Pepper had noticed, and immediately made sure that you were free to live there as long as and however you pleased. They knew you were a good kid, trusting that you wouldn’t make any stupid decisions while living with them; it was for this reason that Tony had allowed you to work under him.

As of now, though, it had been a few months since you started living with him, and you were pretty comfortable there to say the least. It was refreshing living with people who truly cared about you; your parents had never really been there for you, let alone taking care of you. You had been emancipated at just fifteen, and soon found a small job that could cover a small apartment in the slums of Malibu. It was nice, not being under your parents rule any longer, but it was no different than how it was when you lived with them in the sense that you were still alone. Now that you had been living with Tony for a little while, you felt as if you finally had a home, and being comfortable with him and Pepper meant that boundaries were only being lengthened. And so, as you stood up from the edge of your bed with your most bright idea, you made your way downstairs to go about your plan.

“Hey Tony,” you said with a wince, holding your stomach as you walked over to where Tony was sat at the dining table. “My stomach is really hurting. I honestly don’t think I can go to school.” He looked up from his phone and took his glasses off to study you.

“Hm. C’mere lemme check it out,” he said, motioning his hand for you to come over to him.

“Check it out? I mean… okay.” You walked gingerly over to him, a look of suspicion lingering on both of your faces.

“Yeah. Could be gas, constipation, organ failure…” he continued as he pressed on different part around your stomach. He then used one finger to press into a particularly sensitive spot, making you stifle a giggle as you squeezed your lips shut to prevent anything from coming out.

“Does that hurt?”

“Uhhh no… just… sensitive.” You tried to look anywhere but at Tony so that he wouldn’t notice your bluffing - as well as the smile that was almost cracking as he continued prodding at your belly. But when he kept poking, it only made the feeling more unbearable, and you couldn’t help the snort that made its way out of you.

“What was that?” Tony said, grinning at you as he waited for a response. It was then that you realized he knew you were bluffing all along. There was no way out of this.

“Nothing! I just… sneezed,” wiping your nose dramatically. He wasn’t buying it.

“Sounded like a snort to me. Does this tickle or something? I mean if you’re in pain I would assume it would be more… y’know, painful.”

“Owww… you know, know that I think about it, all that poking must have made it worse. I should probably just go to my room and rest it off.” You attempted to walk away thinking that Tony would give it a rest, but you couldn’t be any more wrong when he grabbed your arm, pulling you back towards him. “Hey! What’re you doing?” you whined.

“You’re lying. So tell me why, or I’ll start doing a lot more than poking…” he spoke as he threateningly tapped his fingers on the table. You were trying your hardest not to tell him, the reason being you didn’t want him to think you couldn’t handle the interning job on top of school. The last thing you wanted was for him to deem you a little kid that wanted to skip school; in truth, you seriously needed a break from it all.

“I’m not lying.”

“Really? That’s how it’s gonna be? Fine.” Without warning, he snatched you straight into his lap and began wiggling his fingers straight into your stomach.

“Hehehey! Tohohony this ihisnt fahahahair!”

“Oh please. You practically asked for it,” he said, moving his hands to your ribs which caused your laughter to bubble up.

“LEHEHEHEMME GOHOHO!” You kicked your legs but it was no use. Pepper had even walked in to see what you were screaming about, but once she noticed what had unfolded, she simply smiled and went about what she was doing earlier. She adored you and Tony’s relationship; it was serious when it needed to be, but was otherwise very lighthearted and playful. He had never had a kid of his own to be there for - not even a pet, for that matter - but you had changed all of that for him. You saw him as the father figure you had always longed for, and to him, you were that of the daughter he never had.

“You gonna tell me the truth?” He had to speak over your giggling so you could hear him.

“OKAHAHAY FINE JUHUST STOP!”

“Good.” He paused his attack, setting you down on the chair in front of you. “Speak,” he said firmly, leaning in so you couldn’t do anything but look straight towards him. You cupped your hands in your lap, fidgeting with your thumbs a bit.

“I just… I need a break. School has been so stressful on top of helping you out and I just really wanted some time to-”

“Stop. C’mere.” He motioned for you to move over to him, and you were now in his arms once again, but this time, willingly. “Why didn’t you just say that to begin with?”

“I was worried you’d think less of me if I did.”

“Are you crazy?” he said as he turned you to look at him. “Kid, you’ve been working nonstop all day every day, I was worried that you might’ve been some sort of robot.” You chuckled at that.

“Thanks Tony.”

“Yeah yeah don’t get all gross and sappy on me no-” Before he could finish his sentence, you hugged him tighter than you’ve ever hugged anyone before. He melted a bit, taken aback by it all. You weren’t the type to hug people as a way of displaying affection; you didn’t display it much at all, to be honest. Every bone in his body told him to hug you back just as tight, and that’s exactly what he did. The two of you stayed like that for a good few minutes before Happy barged in.

“Guys I’ve been waiting in the car for- oh.” He gushed at the scene before him, whispering a barely audible “sorry” before leaving the room, the two of you laughing as he did so.

“Listen,” he said with a tap on your arm, “if you ever have something on your mind about anything, you tell me. Got it?” You looked up at him guiltily.

“Well then there’s one more thing you should probably know…”

“And what is that?”

“I may or may not have eaten the last cookie in the jar.”

He would’ve rather been told that you were a robot.

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batarella · 4 years ago

Text

3 birds 1 stone - chapter 12

‘Dick, Jason, and Tim. Supposed brothers 'till the end, until all three fall in love with you. Who wins your heart?

The man who earned it, the man who stole it, or the man who always had it?’

A/N: We continue the three perspectives!!! AND we got special appearances from a few characters today eeeeee we’re so close to the finale. Hope you guys enjoy this one!

WORDS: 12,068 WARNINGS: violence, arm dislocation, muscle injuries, alcoholism, mentions of coffee addiction and insomnia

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST

-----

Dick:

That day, this all ends.

Telling himself he got into this mess because he hadn’t a choice, that he hadn’t already stopped because it was all just too riveting and captivating and not at all within his control, was nothing short of a lie.

He had every say in it.

But not even his fucking conscience could convince him to stop. He wanted this mess. Dove right into the lava. He knew every bit of the heartbreak he’d have to endure and he willingly brought it to himself. To get lost into the deep dark woods, with nothing more than an oil lamp, to be pricked by the many thorns and suffocated by the leaves and trees that crowd about much like a bush. To get lost in her, and never want to climb out of any of it. He knew how slippery the road ahead of him was and still he kept going, kept driving, sped up a little even when he thought he’d actually get to where the stars pointed him to.

But so profoundly was his loss of himself, without much effort at all to escape from those grasps even when he told himself he did; going to another woman, wanting the same arrest of his heart to hopefully take him away, but without halting those thoughts of Y/N and how her smile that he’d seen earlier that day would last until dark, maybe even beyond that. Those flares of her face and her voice and how he let them speak to her every night, change them into burning whispers against his ear when he’s memorized her voice too much to make her say anything he wanted her to, even when they only last in his head.

Dick never tried to stop her from taking her heart like that, even when he had to watch her be with another.

Tonight, it all ends. Every bit of this torture that he brought only to himself, it all comes to this sorry halt.

Dick, standing atop a roof of an office building in Dresher, knew that at that moment, he had to sit this one down. He had to be alone and in the darkness to make this as painful as it possibly could, hoping that if all that pain were to be felt now, compress them into this little tub of static blackness, then perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad the next day, and the day after that. Even when he knew this would backfire, he had to.

No one, especially not Y/N, would want him to end up with her. Tim deserved her. Hell, even Jason’s done a lot more for her sake than he had. He can't hope anymore. He can't let this go on.

All this would have gone better if he’d known this sooner.

So with him on that rooftop, sitting on the ledge fifty stories above as if not at all was he a push away from death, Dick let his finger scroll across his phone’s screen moist from his sweat. The battery was going to run out soon. He’d been there for hours, staring at that same picture of her from the day in the nursery, when the sun had been kind to her, touching the surface of her skin so perfectly, it showed more of the little details that he’d already memorized. Those exact images would be thrown out by the end of tonight. Pack their bags. Scram them out the door.

It had, as expected, proven to be difficult.

The thirty-seven pictures he took that day, he’d already heartly remembered by the end of it. Countless of times, he pulled them out of his pocket just to take a second to look, even at the worst. Another month had passed and nothing had happened much since, nothing out the ordinary, which meant their friendship was back to how it used to be. They were friends.

And that was why it ends tonight. Because if he doesn’t fight these thoughts, if he doesn’t fight her, he loses her. He loses this friendship.

Are you sure you want to delete this photo?

Confirm.

Thirty-six times, he let his finger do the talking. Not his heart. Not even his brain.

At the last one, the screen was too distorted by a fallen tear that had seeped out of his domino mask for him to go on. It was the only hindrance he needed to give up and stop. At least for a second.

But he couldn’t even dwell on it too much, or let himself cry, let it burn his skin off enough so it wouldn’t hurt any more afterwards. He couldn’t even let himself have that luxury when he heard the thudding noise of his brother’s boot-cladded feet, a Bo staff that hit the ground, and a black cape that enforced a gust of wind to blow against the back of his head.

Dick just closed his eyes, and just after that, Tim walked over to stand right behind him.

Greatest Detective in the World. But even an idiot would know what he was up to, sitting in the darkness crying while his feet dangle off a rooftop’s ledge, eyes to his phone like he was reading the saddest sob story in the whole world or that he’d just received a text that one of his loved ones’ lives had been taken away from cancer.

The way Tim was silent, he knew.

And Dick just let him believe it, without even a word to explain himself, he did. He let Tim’s mind do the figuring out and the explaining because not even his own words would be half that truth.

Tim’s voice that night wasn’t the kind he heard often.

“You think this is the right time for that, Dick?”

A crack on his knuckles, his throat sounding rough and beaten, Dick didn’t know what to even say.

“We called you fifteen times over at the bridge. We needed you-“

“Sorry-“

“And it turns out you’ve been at your phone the whole time-“

“You handled it without me.”

“That isn’t the fucking point.”

A month of silence, since that deathly night after they took Y/N home. Several minutes, together in one car, had proven to be one of the most insufferable moments of his life. And not surprisingly, it went on for even more days after that.

Dick turned off his phone, but Tim snatched it away from his hands and walked away so Dick couldn’t grab it.

He stood from the ledge. “Come on, Tim. Not cool.”

“Hmm. Cute,” Tim faked a smile and swiped around the screen, at the last picture of Y/N he had. “Could have sent it to me. And Jason.”

“Tim-“

“But it’s cool,” Tim said. He threw the phone back at Dick and he caught it just before it hit the ground. “All good. Finally, you have something of her all to yourself, right?”

Tim was Tim. Not this. Not someone so angry and grievous and someone who was looking at him that way with so much disgust when he used to be that young boy of fourteen who looked at his older brother like a god. How long, he thought, must he have kept all this frustration bundled up inside, where not even he could reach into. Someone who’s so calm, so in control of what he says, had finally given in and let his annoyance flourish about. He wondered, as anyone would, at what point Tim had finally had enough of all of this.

“Tim, please-“

“You,” Tim pointed his gloved finger right at Dick’s face.

“You were supposed to be my brother.”

Tim:

Of course, he’s had enough.

He’s had enough of all this a lot longer than anyone else, even he, would have thought.

It might have been since that day Y/N was crying over an argument they once had, over something he can't even remember, that almost pried them apart, only for Dick to come along and console her without telling Tim where he was, and he only knew because Y/N told him what happened. If she hadn’t, Tim wouldn’t have known.

He wouldn’t have known Dick had long been pining over the love of his life, never mind how she was in his arms and kissing his lips and calling for his name.

Dick, who could have literally anyone he could possibly wish for, just had to want her.

“What do you want me to say?” The asshole started after a moment’s silence, of nothing but a helicopter’s whirl from far above, the lack of light from everywhere around them, and their footsteps against the empty cement.

He couldn’t even look at his brother in the eye with his mask on, but he knew enough to know what he felt. It didn’t matter if he was sincere. It didn’t even matter that he cried.

“Nothing,” Tim said. “You’ve done your damage.”

“Damage?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Enlighten me.”

Tim scoffed and faked yet another laugh. It annoyed himself at that point.

“You are unbelievable-“

“I’m not trying to do anything with her anymo-“

“Don’t even start with that, asshole.”

Tim’s hands were shaking, and subconsciously he tried to repress those tremors, hoping they’d go away if he clenched them enough, but they only got worse.

“She was mine,” he cried. “And you just couldn’t handle that-“

“I never tried anything with her when you were together.” Dick tried to step closer to him but he just backed away.

“So you weren’t just waiting for us to break up so you’d swoop in and be the hero?” he scoffed. “I asked you to make sure she was okay, not take advantage of her hurting just so you’d have your chance.”

“And why did you break up, Tim?” He had the audacity to ask. “You didn’t love her anymore-“

“You knew I still did-“

“Then why hurt her?!”

“Because I was hurting her anyway!”

Never. He’s never been this angry. Not that he could recall.

“I was 17. Everything about me changed. Wayne Enterprises. Red Robin. Fucking Bruce dying and coming back to life. She was there but I was about to lose my fucking mind. I thought she didn’t have a place in all that mess anymore so I broke it off.”

Finally, he stepped close enough to Dick, almost to leveling with his height. His brother had his lips hidden, hands falling to his sides.

He looked terrified.

“Two seconds after that, I never regret anything more my whole fucking life. I thought talking to you would make her feel better, but you just couldn’t help but bat your pretty little eyes at her when she was vulnerable. I wanted to go back but I couldn’t ‘cuz you were already there!”

He was snarling, and a growl escaped his throat by the time he backed away. Tim didn’t even get to hear himself until he saw his own reflection in the white of Dick’s mask.

But Dick. He didn’t even take it as a hint to just shut up and take his rambling.

“I never meant to keep her away from you-“

“I went to you, Dick.” Tim wiped his lips with the back of his gloves, watched over to the next building to avoid his brother’s face. “I always went to you for help. With her. You know how long I’ve wanted her. And I went to you because I thought you were my brother and you’d help me.”

“I did help you!”

“You were helping yourself!”

His hands slammed against Dick’s chest, and it was a good thing he didn’t fight back. He would have just taken that as an excuse to keep hitting.

“Tim,” Dick held his hands up. Tim backed away. “Just go to her-“

“THIS ISNT ABOUT HER ANYMORE, ASSHOLE!”

Hands shoving his chest once again. This time, Dick had caught them, held them by his wrists enough so Tim couldn’t pull them away.

“THIS IS ABOUT YOU AND ME, GRAYSON!” Tim screamed. “WHAT HAPPENED TO HAVING EACH OTHER’S BACKS!”

“YOU THINK IT WAS MY CHOICE TO GET IN BETWEEN YOU!?”

It was from a whip of strength not even he had known prior, but it hurt when he finally could take his hands off of Dick’s grip, and with that, he backed further away, though his eyes couldn’t stray from looking straight into his brother’s.

“IT DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER IF IT WAS-“

“THEN I’M SORRY!’ Dick swallowed. “IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED TO HEAR?!”

“No,” Tim’s knees hit the railing and so close did he fall, but he kept himself up, rubbed the bottom of his chin with his gloved hand. “You're not sorry…”

Dick’s silence. Even more so did he want to just lunge at him and strangle his vocal chords. No matter how far-fetched, Dick was supposed to tell him all the things he wanted him to say. So far, he’s said none of that.

Dick just watched when Tim turned around to rest his weight onto his palms, looking out into the open seeking for just about any kind of help there was that he could call out from the wind, but there was nothing.

“You're right,” Dick said, and Tim felt the cement crack from beneath his palms. “I’m not sorry.”

“Fucking bold of you-”

“What would have happened to her if I hadn’t stepped in?” He heard Dick’s voice louder and clearer, which meant he was walking closer towards him.

“I would have come back. I always wanted to come back, but by then she was all over you. I couldn’t-“

Tim looked at his own hands. “I had it coming. I can't blame her.”

Another whiff of air, and it blew the strands of his black locks right onto his eyelids. They stung, but he didn’t push them away. He just kept his eyes locked onto the blankness of the gray, the dark that went all the way into his spirit.

“But I do blame you-“

“Tim, you hurt her-”

“AND YOU HAVENT?!”

Dick caught his Bo staff, which Tim had thrown right at him as swiftly as he turned around. His mouth was as dry as his palms were sweating. His teeth were close to breaking. And his eyes dangerously drifting off into some unknown nowhere just so he wouldn’t have to look at such betrayal.

“Tim-“

Tim was shaking, or at least his hands were, when he gave into his impulses and moved so fast, grabbing Dick by the collar and standing him down.

“You stand there blaming me for all that hurt when here you are-“

“What the hell do you want me to say to you?!”

He was strong, stronger than any one of them would have thought. Dick couldn’t even move, much less out of shock than it was out of his hold on him too overwhelming to counter.

“Tim, this isn’t like you-“

“You have no idea what I’ll do,” Tim growled. “Why do you think I became Red Robin?”

To separate himself from the likes of what it used to be. To not be Robin anymore. To stray away from his ideals, ideals and morals no longer his.

Because he was, in his truest capacity, capable of much darker things than people seem to know. Even his own brother.

“I hate you-“

Dick, who took that second to take advantage of weakness, grabbed him by the wrists and pushed him off with the soles of his feet, not enough to send him to the ground but enough to almost topple him. And when he looked up, immediately, Tim’s fist headed for his brother’s head, but again it was caught by Dick’s palm.

“HEY, HEY, HEY, ENOUGH! BOTH OF YOU!”

A much deeper, louder voice, the third one to be heard that night. It was that, and two strong arms that grabbed Tim by the shoulder and Dick by his suit’s back. Even when it wasn’t even to much effect, they stopped.

At least, for a second they did, before Tim started for Dick’s neck and he had to be held back with a strong hand right against his chest. “Let me go!”

“What the hell is going on with you two!?”

“Stay out of this Jason!”

It was easier for Jason to stand right in between, just to stop either of them from going after their skin. Dick had stopped. Tim, on the other hand, had to be held back by the shoulders. “Tim, calm down!”

“I said stay out of this!”

Jason:

“One of you pinheads tell me what’s going on!”

“Are you really gonna let Jason fight your battles, Dick?!”

Tim tried to push Jason out of the way. He was lucky, in fact, that none of them could see the irate look on his face hidden behind the safety of a red helmet. Otherwise they might have started for him too, just at how disgusted he looked at them both. And he had every right to be. He knew exactly why they were fighting. It was the devil in him who felt like asking.

Jason held him back with his cape. “Hey, KNOCK IT OFF-“

“Let go of me!”

“You don’t think I wanna bash this asshole’s brains out everyday, Tim?!” Jason hauled him to the floor. “Trust me. You can hold back.”

“Oh, fuck you, Todd.”

“You shut up.” Jason pointed at Dick. “If this is about Y/N I know exactly why Tim wants you dead.”

“And why am I the one you two’re ganging up on?!”

“If I was, Dick, I’d just let this one have at it with you. Thank me later.” Jason said, nodding over at Tim. Tim shrugged off his brother’s hold on him and frowned.

“You were never the one to trust, Dick,” Tim gulped. And Jason knew Dick would have thought the same. His flaring eyes, the burn that was almost never there from someone so usually calm. It was unnerving seeing Tim this way. “Look at everyone you’ve hurt. Y/N. Kori. When are you going to stop?”

“Don’t you fucking start with me, you little-“

“Hey! Knock it off!” Jason pushed Dick again with a shove of his hand. Dick stepped back.

“Jason, just get out of here -“

“I don’t know, man; Feels like I have to be the responsible one. For once.”

Tim grabbed Jason’s hand and hauled him to the side so he could step closer to where Dick was standing. “You don’t want to be a part of this.”

Jason, if not at all wanting that to be true in the slightest sense, didn’t fight back and took Tim’s shoving. But, as he’d thought, Dick was the one who looked at him so slyly he wanted to grab his lips and use them to haul him over the building.

Suddenly, every part of his skin wanted to burst, blood beating through every inch of vessel and flesh so much it burned him. His mouth sewed shut, ears hurting at the redness. Again, if not for the helmet, it would have been a dead giveaway.

But Dick wasn’t having it.

“Trust me, Tim. He already is.”

“What the hell do you mean-“

“I said, enough. You two settle this at home.”

Jason tried for Dick’s shoulder just to push him to back away, but he threw his hand off.

“Don’t fucking act like the good guy between the three of us,” Dick said. “What are you gonna say next? That this isn’t what Y/N would want?”

“You think it is?!”

Dick chortled and he turned away. Tim still wouldn’t let his glare away from his brother and if Jason would let him, he’d have mauled him to death.

“You always did think you knew what was best for her, didn’t you?”

“Jason, what the hell is he talking about?”

He never told him. The bastard never told Tim when he was so sure he would, when he basically told him that night outside Y/N’s doorstep that by the end of the hour, Tim would know what he’d done and he’d have found Jason by the next, even when he tries too hard to disappear, which he had tried to do for four months, hiding from his brother, and not long after he’ll never be welcomed into the manor as so much as a guest. It did surprise him, after many months, that Tim hadn’t so much as acknowledged it. Part of him wanted to believe Tim didn’t care, or had already forgiven Y/N and in turn forgiven him.

But, of course, Dick hadn’t told him. The asshole wanted this to drag out as painfully long as he possibly could. Make him carry that burden himself just because he thought it was right, as Tim’s brother, even when he wanted no part of those niceties.

“You wanna tell him?” The blue leotard wearing ass said. “Or should I?”

“Don’t fucking bring me into this shitshow-“

“Brother, you walked right into it yourself.”

“I will kill you,” Jason growled. “One of these days.”

“Tell me what?”

Tim’s voice, the softest it had been since the start of that night.

He shouldn’t.

His little brother, one whose relationship had proven far too difficult to build, if there was ever a chance at a good relationship at all. His brother. An established brotherhood he once despised so much, took too many years just for it to be something tolerable. His little brother.

He never had a little brother like Tim. Perhaps even now, he wouldn’t. Not once he knows.

“Tim, I-“

“Jason, tell me what’s going on.”

Dick no longer even had that smirk on him. He just looked sad for the both of them, as he should be. As anyone should be.

“Just tell him.”

So much did his fist want to just fly and land straight at Grayson’s perfectly chiseled cheekbones, break his face so much he wouldn’t live to stand a day.

But Jason had grown too silent, too guilty.

He couldn’t even take off his helmet and look at either of them in the eye.

Tim stepped right in front of him and on his face kind of worry that often lingered prior to it being the worst rage to ever engulf into.

Was there a way out of this? To counter the impact? Make it so it didn’t hurt so much?

If Grayson had just told him, it wouldn’t have to be this way.

“Jason-“

He looked up, and through the slits of his visor, he knew Tim wanted to look at him in the eye, to find something out of this truth.

“I…”

His throat, it hurt to even breath. And when this happened, he usually takes the helmet off. This time, however, he couldn’t do that. Not when he had so much to say despite him not wanting to.

“I slept with her…”

It was a shame Dick didn’t look too much like an ass right then. If he did, he’d have a reason for himself to just jump at him with a knife. But all he could even see, all he could bring himself to watch, was his feet.

Nothing else. Not when Tim was looking at him that way.

“What?”

“I slept with her-“

Tim.

Was it even Tim anymore? The boy in front of him? Who never looked at him with so much betrayal?

“When?”

“A few months ago…” he said. “Lasted about a month.”

Then, it wouldn’t even have mattered if it were him who broke the news, the asshole that Dick was, or the Gotham Times.

Tim.

No longer his little brother. Never will be again.

Right for the neck. That’s where Tim pounced a second less than he was smart enough to move away.

Dick:

That asshole deserved it.

But if anyone deserved it more than Jason did, it was Dick.

Was it to divert Tim’s attention from himself? Give him a breather and a while for Tim’s anger to mellow down taking it out on Jason so he doesn’t take it out on him so much? Possibly.

But the moment Tim’s hands squeezed the living daylights out of Jason’s neck, he knew he shouldn’t have brought it up. It was wrong. This was all wrong.

He started for Tim’s arms, grabbing them both just to at least give Jason enough time to breath, but this newfound strength certainly wasn’t one he’d expected. When he did manage to pull them off, Tim swung his fist right at Dick’s face.

Then, he went back for Jason, who then took that short time to grab both his fists and stop them for hurling him over the roof.

This was his fault. This was his doing.

And all the more did he want this to end when Jason held Tim strong enough to make him scream, and with that, he threw another punch right for his helmet, shattering the visor beneath his bruised knuckles. Jason tried to kick him away with his knee, but Tim was pushing him.

Jason, who should have been a lot stronger, was not doing much to fight Tim. And instead, he tried talking him out of it.

“Tim!” he coughed. Tim still holding both fists went on to push him. “Tim, stop!”

Head slam against his helmet, and it broke, enough for a part of it to be chipped off and expose his forehead.

Jason finally hurled Tim over to the ground just so he could wipe the blood stain off from seeping down his eyes, but that wasn’t much of a good idea. Not when Tim took that as a chance to jump for his brother, grabbing him by the shoulders, and with the forces of their own bodies flying across the wind, the railing wasn’t enough to stop their fall.

Tim and Jason fell over the building, down fifty stories with one’s hands wrapped around the others throat, and Tim went on to strangle him even as they fell.

Dick, without even thinking much, dove into that same abyss. Did he have a plan? No. Was this going to work anyway? Probably not. But he had to try.

At least, it was all he had to do. When Dick leapt, head soaring straight down for a car so miniscule that wouldn’t be so small the more he wastes time, his brothers thrashing bodies that broke the speed of their fall worked to his sorry advantage and Dick managed to catch up.

He grabbed Tim off, thankfully with the fall lessening his grip but not at all did it change the murderous look on his face. This wasn’t his brother. This can't be him. This was someone who had all his frustrations bottled up in the form of coffee addiction, insomnia, and workaholic tendencies, someone who hadn’t vented out his hurt and anger at him, who he apparently had been hating for a while.

When he had him in his grasps, Dick grappled up to the next building. “Jason, hold on!”

It was, in actuality, the worst idea he’s ever come up with. Other than the fact that Tim weighed a good 170 pounds, Jason was no lighter. Not even in the slightest. And carrying both of them? He might as well be hauling up a whole tank.

That one single grappling hook showed them no appreciation despite it holding on the best it could. And it was to no help that the hook landed on a building too far.

They were just yards up the ground when the rope tightened, and the impact on Dick’s arm he was sure had the bone dislocated. A scream was all he could muster at the shooting pains that went all the way up his neck, but still, he held on, and even when it lasted no more than a few seconds, it was all too agonizing not to feel like it lasted hours.

All it took was to at least break the fall, but that was all he could handle. Dick let go of the grapple gun and they were falling across the whole block, across the street over to an abandoned lot with junkyard cars and probably some broken glass scattered across the ground.

Tim landed on top of one of the cars, breaking the windshield under his weight. Jason wasn’t so lucky, rolling across the cold cement with it hitting his helmet, enough to expose his face.

And Dick, with it not helping his arm at all, landed right against the fenced border and fell to the ground. Some wire sticking out might have impaled his skin.

He was breathing. Was he still breathing? There was throbbing. Redness. Blood that went to his eyes, most probably. He could hear his heart and basically the rest of his senses going haywire.

When he looked up, already Tim could stand, right on top of the cars.

Now lacking his Bo staff, Tim smashed the broken metal beneath his feet and pulled out a slab hard enough to break bones.

Tim:

If Dick were smart, he should have let him die.

This was always how he was, how this was all going to boil down to. His so many ways of dealing with loss, heartbreak, and stress, it was never going to hold him back enough if he hadn’t an outlet. And this, tonight, this was all part of the inevitable. He did what he promised Y/N. He kept off the coffee and had eight hours of sleep every day. But did it mean it warded off his thoughts on her? On his brothers? On their betrayal and how much he’d been holding that all off for months? Not even close. In fact, they grew worse.

Who does he start with?

Dick was all the way over at the fence. Wounded. Dislocated arm. He pulled himself up and went for a wall he could smash his shoulder against just to pull back the bone.

And Jason.

Shit.

Should have went for him first.

Two glocks in his hands. This man wasn’t afraid in the slightest.

“Jason, don’t!” Dick cried. Too late. He already shot one of the cars.

Tim spun about just to dodge at least the shattered glass. He was aiming for his legs, at all the parts of his body that wouldn’t be so lethal. How kind of him.

Which meant, that if it were the vital parts of him exposed, Jason wouldn’t shoot.

So he didn’t even try to hide himself, his chest especially, when he hurled himself over the many car hoods and roofs. Jason kept going, and this time he went to shooting the glass on purpose. Probably to hit him with the shards.

Tim reached the wall and pushed his feet so he’d roll on the ground. Cape up, he looked through the many places to hide, but he didn’t want to hide. What he wanted was to grab one of them, any of them, by the shoulders, pin them to the ground, and have his fist have at it with their stupid faces.

He ran up to Jason, cape protecting his legs and arms, and just as he did Dick had crept up behind him, grabbing Jason by a headlock. Elbow to Dick’s chest, he took that as a chance to grab his guns and throw them over to the side. So close did he miss one of the bullets, if grazing his shoulder was ever a miss. But he ignored that hiss and landed a hit on Jason’s stomach.

But not even that could last long, with Jason practically subdued. Dick set Jason aside to block Tim’s fist from landing anywhere near either of them. He kept hitting, swinging, it was all a blur after the third time he felt his shoulders hurt. And Grayson’s was no better. So he aimed for it.

What was he doing?

Foot landing on Dick’s pelvis. It was enough for his body to skid across the ground. He looked up at his brother, teeth gritting so much that it hurt, Tim didn’t move fast enough before he could move away from Dick’s fist, which landed a good one right to his teeth.

Jason:

This was the most ridiculous fight he’s ever been on. No different from a fucking pellet gun war over at the gardens that one time they were drunk and stupid. This was a game, one he really didn’t want to play. He should have known, and what he thought that time was that somehow, she was worth going through all this chaos for. That moment of bliss, that month of beauty and serenity and peace, was it worth this? With his own brothers?

It wouldn’t have been if it was just a month of beauty and serenity and peace. But it wasn’t just about that anymore, was it?

So this had to be worth it. In every way. With Dick and Tim over a few yards away, Dick holding his shoulder and trying so hard to avoid being hit there and Tim so unruly and angry and being so taken over with his rage, not at all was he anything like this before tonight.

He had the choice. To grab the gun that had skidded over to his side, shoot them both in the shoulder to put everything to a stop, or join in on their rumble to drag this out as long as inhumanely possible. Three different men who knew exactly what the others’ moves will be, this wasn’t going to last very long if it were to be a good way.

But, if this were to be dealt with bullets, he can say goodbye to either of them of ever being his brother again, to never be a part of this family so hard to love but love nevertheless.

He stopped his hand from reaching for the gun, and with that, he started for the two.

Jason grabbed Tim’s ankle just before it would have landed on Dick’s chin, threw him to the side so he’d land on the floor.

Dick’s fist, which would have hit Tim, instead hit Jason right at the nape of his neck. He almost toppled over to the ground, and with that flash of rage, he struck back at Dick right at his bad shoulder. Might have been too far. But he didn’t care.

Tim hit his back, right up against his sharp knee. He cried out at the unnerving bellows that went straight to his head, picked himself up just before he hit the ground.

Another hit for his head, but Dick had stopped it with his own hand, twisted Tim’s ankle so he’d once again lose his balance and fall.

Three different men.

Three different fights.

Three men who knew each other far too well to be beaten so easily.

They jostled and rolled about, around the junkyard over so many of the cars and the broken glass and even the fence that had long blown over. This wasn’t at all supposed to be what they’d spend the night on, but with the slabs of metal being thrown, the cars almost hurled up with their peak human strength, their limbs flailing, some barely missing a nerve on their head and some wrecking a whole tooth out of their mouth, it was not, to even some capacity, ever going to end as well as any of them hoped.

And with them at the middle of the barren empty grounds, Jason dodging Dick’s fist only to meet Tim’s knee, Dick being absolutely smothered by Tim’s head smashing against his, and Tim being pinned to the ground by either of his brothers larger than him that he hated so much.

It all would have ended in death, after the kind of blur that clouded so much of their moral thought and any kind of sense at all to remind them of what they were doing, if not for something far too strong for them to easily swerve from.

Or, better yet, three things too strong for them to swerve from.

At a whiff so quick for any of them to have possibly even sensed, a flash of purple was the first to wave off that blur from their eyes. And it went for Tim.

Stephanie was first to subdue him, holding Tim down with her knee landing right at the small of his back. He cried out both at the shock he hadn’t expected and the pulsing pain that probably went all the way up his spine, but he was done. Steph had grabbed Tim’s head and pinned him down right against the floor.

The next one was Dick, and before any of them could even turn, something so brightly blinding, a figure of yellow, fell from one of the cars’ hood and grabbed Dick by the neck. Duke was smaller, but not at all was that some disadvantage. His huge armored arms, locking Dick enough for him to just flail his hands about, it was enough to make him stop.

And, just as he expected, the next thing he saw after that flash of a second he was spared, was a blur of black so silently creeping up on him, Jason couldn’t move even when he knew it was coming. No one could have seen it. Not even him. By the next second, he was bent over one of the cars, hands to his back, and Cassandra had a taser stuck to his hip.

“NO, NO, NO, CASS DON’T-“

Barely enough to fry him unconscious, but enough to fucking electrocute his skin off so his muscles could barely move.

Dick:

This should all have ended sooner than it even happened.

And the shame crept in, not even when he stopped struggling against Duke’s hold on him, but when Barbara, the last to come into the scene, flew in from the window right across.

She looked like she wanted to murder all three of them by a rope around their necks. One single rope. Having three just wouldn’t be worth it.

She took off her cowl and let her red hair fall to her back, so they’d easily see just how disgusted she looked at them all, at the look on her eyes, at the look on all their eyes.

“Duke, let me go-“

“I’m sorry, Dick.”

“Please.”

“If we could, Nightwing,” Babs swallowed. “I’ll have you tied to that streetlamp for the rest of the night.”

Jason tried to reach for something in the car just to kick Cass away, but she tased him again. Some smoke flew up from his flesh.

“Cass, that’s enough,” Babs said.

Cass glared at them all, then settled to just holding Jason down with his arms.

“Is anyone going to tell me what the hell is going on with you three?”

“Maybe if you get your foot out of my head, Steph, I’d actually get my brain back and answer her question,” Tim said.

“You lost your brain when you fell down that building.”

“You saw that?”

Steph snorted. “You’re lucky I didn’t jump in until I had all of us on call.”

“Lucky?!”

Steph twisted Tim’s arm and his cries could be heard over to the next block.

Jason tried, again, to break free from Cass’s hold, but her fist wasn’t one to welcome when it landed much like a bat would’ve right up against Jason’s head.

And Tim, who almost pried Steph’s knee from against his back, was just pinned down again not even a second after breaking free.

They were too tired to go up against any of them.

So Dick, knowing there was no other, prettier way out of this, let go of his hands from gripping too hard on Duke’s arm. He didn’t let go, but it had loosened, enough for him to properly talk. Babs went over to him. That dagger-infested glower stuck through, but at least there was some appreciation for his lack of resistance.

“It was a misunderstanding-“

“Was it?!”

Babs clenched her jaw.

“This is about her, isn’t it-“

Tim’s voice echoed. “No!”

Tim:

He growled and shoved Steph’s hand away, but they kept on his arms, pushing them down against his spine. She was strong enough to subdue him, stronger now that he was exhausted and his muscles were all strained, but that didn’t mean he was, in any way, going to back down from this fight. This wasn’t over.

He could crane his head up enough to look at Babs.

“This is about these two traitors who lied to my face for months!”

Steph was having too much trouble keeping him down. “Tim!”

“Are you really going to take their side?!”

“No one is taking anyone’s side here.”

Babs eyed Cass at least to make her loosen her grip on Jason’s twisted arms. Cass rolled her eyes, sighed, and still without a word, she grabbed Jason by the back of his collar to make him stand. But it wasn’t without her taser stuck up to his side.

“Cass, I’m not gonna fucking fight you-“

“Just shut up, Jay,” Dick said, and with that, Duke tightened his arm.

“They wanna know,” Tim panted. “Tell them all why we’re in this mess.”

His voice, all broken and rageful and so unlike what anyone would have thought. It turned the heads of everyone around. Steph loosened her hand around Tim’s neck much out of her own disbelief.

“Stabbing me in the back the way you did…”

“Tim, you don’t have to-“ Babs went on, but Tim’s screams were too much.

“Tell them! Say why you’re all a bunch of ass-“

“You’re the one who wanted this to be some shitshow!” Jason’s teeth shouldn’t last long with how much he was gritting them when he hissed and snarled at Cass, who poked the taser just beneath his hip.

“Cass, enough with the taser.”

“Yeah, Cass,” Jason said. “Where the hell did you even get that?”

“Some douchey police officer over at Chinatown,” Duke said to him while still keeping his hands on Dick.

Something so foreign, so unruly and aggressive, it was taking too much control over him. Tim’s eyes were burning, and there weren’t even any tears. His blood pulsed through every vein, strong enough for it to hurt, and loud enough for him to hear it through his bloodied ears.

Tim pushed Steph away and for a moment, he was free. He wasn’t even thinking anymore. He just wanted his hands squeezing the voice out of Jason’s neck.

Babs grabbed him by the cape just as Steph caught up, and again he was on the floor. Still, he screamed, thrashed about because everything within him just yelled for him to finally let it out. He was done being the nice guy, done being the brother they both pushed around, took advantage of, lied to, and picked on because they knew he’d never fight back.

“Tim…” Babs helped Steph holding him down. She looked up at Dick. “What the hell did you do to him?”

“Nothing we can't sort out!”

“Jesus, Dick,” Jason snorted. “You haven’t said one smart thing all day.”

“Like you're any better, you asswipe.”

“Enough!”

Babs stood right between them, otherwise they’d have lunged for each other even if they had a missile launcher aimed for their heads.

“Let me go. Duke,” Dick said. “I’m not gonna fight any of you-“

“Yeah, three seconds ago you were close to running Jason’s head through a windshield.”

“Just let me go and we’ll all calmly-“

“Calmly?” Duke laughed. “I saw you fall down that building from where I stood. None of you know what calm is.”

Duke’s voice was stern and not at all did he sound like he’d trust him enough for that, no different than Steph’s or even just the look in Cass’s eyes. Because, if anything, other than the utter disgust, disdain, and disappointment, everything before them was something not to easily believe.

Not long after, before anything even happened, before Tim heard that first trace of a large black cape and the heavy soles that would have broken the cement floor underneath if he hadn’t purposely landed so swiftly, with the shadow that wasn’t in fact a shadow, but a suit so terrifying, dark, and so close to invisible, it was the night in a physicality no two people could similarly describe.

Tim knew he’d get here first, before anyone else even turned their heads. Because he stopped with his cries and faced his untimely doom. Face to the ground, quiet and unmoving. Everyone else followed but that was after he’d already appeared.

Not even anyone from the likes of the worst villains had seen the look on Bruce’s face as close to the one he had right then.

Jason:

If he were alone, he’d just have snorted. The look on Grayson and Drake’s face. Couldn’t be drawn.

He’s seen that same frown on Bruce every time he shoots a damn gun, which was every night. He could paint it by memory and he wouldn’t miss a detail. The squinted white of his eyeholes, his lips forlorn and flat. His hands, clenched enough for it to hurt, hidden beneath his cape. Oh, Dad. Did I do that?

These guys just needed some getting used to.

And he shouldn’t be amused at the fact that at least, for once, he wasn’t the only one in trouble this time. Tim looked ashamed. Dick looked like he’d seen a ghost. Dick should have known this, at least. He’s steered up a few times of trouble himself. Nothing like what he’s done, that’s for sure. But he shouldn’t be so stricken. Still, he was, which made it all the more inappropriate if he were to smirk right then.

Damian was right beside him. He wasn’t entertained, or intrigued, what he usually was watching his father tell off his brothers. In fact, he looked bothered. Like they’d just taken so much of his time away from what he’d rather be doing, which apparently was more interesting than this.

Ah. Of course. An out-of-town mission. Just Batman and Robin. They left Babs in charge. Probably why she looked just as horrified as Dick, hands to her side and keeping the slight shake of her palms hidden. It seems she prepared for anything to happen on patrol that night, anything Bruce prepared her for being the boss. What they hadn’t prepared for, apparently, was them.

“Batman, I-“ Babs swallowed. “We have this under control. You can go back to-“

“Let them go.”

Chills down everyone’s wobbly spines at his growling voice proved more terrifying under the filter near his neck. Everyone except Jason, of course. But he can't be so relaxed. Cass was getting suspicious. He just felt her hands tighten even more around his wrists.

But perhaps, he should be afraid. He’s gotten into mounds of trouble, but it was never anything like this.

He snorted again. They hadn’t hurt anybody. It was just them three and their lack of brain. They’ll be fine.

He hoped.

“Bruce, they’re trying to kill each other-“

“They can try.”

Babs, right then, might be the one to kill them right after. Maybe with her bare hands. Maybe with a truck. With a deathly, silent scowl at all of them, she nodded.

Duke was first to let go of Dick, and with that a pat on the back. Dick rubbed the back of his neck, stayed put and didn’t even step away. He was relaxed. Ashamed, but relaxed. He just stretched out his limbs and already everyone was satisfied.

Next, it was Jason. With a reluctant Cass finally letting him go, and the taser, Jason tumbled over to the nearest car hood just to keep himself up. That fucking taser robbed him of his knees. How many volts was that thing?

Finally, Steph swung her legs over from holding down Tim’s body and helped him up. She dusted off his back, apologized under her breath. He probably had a lot to say if it weren’t for the seven other pairs of eyes on him, watching him from letting out so much as a twitch.

Tim didn’t shove her away so he could go back to poking Jason’s eyeballs out. He just stood there and stared at him like Jason and Dick were lucky everyone else was around. Which, he probably was. He wasn’t going to deny that.

The last people to be so afraid of Bruce were the three of them, the perpetrators, the reason for this little reunion. So instead of letting out something so cocky and unapologetic, something so at the borders of causing Bruce to have an aneurysm, not one mouth resisted from being kept shut. It was the kind of silence that wasn’t often expected from such an unusual family.

And Bruce looked at the three of them not with anger, or dismay, or even annoyance.

He looked disappointed.

Which, arguably, makes it a whole lot worse. Hell, even for him. He’s been yelled at since the day he came back and all of a sudden a little fight with his brothers is what brings him to shame.

Bruce was unmoving, so his voice startled and shook.

“All this…” he said. “For her…”

No one spoke. Not even a cricket. Even with the horns and sirens from afar, the bustle they couldn’t care less the only noise there was, it was deafening.

“Don’t you think you’ve disappointed her enough?”

Jason ignored the shattered edges of his helmet that poked on his cheek, ignored the blood it drew or the strain on his arms. Everyone did, perhaps.

“Go back to patrol.”

Batman left, as quickly as he’d come. Robin followed right behind him.

Batgirl turned around, nodded at her team, which was all there was out of her, out of anybody. They could see her fists clench, her eyes down and avoiding the others. The Signal flew out of the scene, Spoiler grappled up to the next rooftop, and Orphan disappeared out of thin air, without a word or even a grunt.

Nightwing, Red Robin, and Red Hood left that junkyard lot, and as the brothers they were, and dreadfully still are, they kept out of each other’s ways for the rest of that quiet night.

-----

What was so different about that night, and the many more nights that followed, was how they no longer had each other to turn to, even more now that it seemed they needed their brothers the most. Jason was, in the worst sense, used to the kind of isolation he was forced into after the matter. Dick had to learn to be alone, but it always had been better to have another’s shoulder to lean on and talk to. Tim, not so much. Not when he almost always turned to Y/N. And if not her, Dick. His older brother. One he once looked up to like a being unreachable, now a traitor he’d scoff at if he dared to show up.

So what they did, and what they were forced to do for several nights, was to deal with the cosmos and the whirlwind of thoughts all by their sorry selves. Dick usually could be found in training, spinning about in the uneven bars set up for him at the manor, have the sweat and the strain in his muscles force out whatever it was that bothered him into some physical outlet, how it often had been for many years as he appreciated himself for the care it brought. For the others, however, it wasn’t so much the same. Tim would spend all hours in the office and wouldn’t so much as nap even when his whole body tortured him to at least stop his back from being crouched so much. And Jason, well, had already drowned himself in booze, even more now that the reasons had faded clearer.

Alone in his apartment, over at the nook by the window where he usually spent the day with a book, now his mess of a hair would be plastered against the cold glass and the many bottles that surround him would block the surfaces of the cushion. It never actually got out of hand. He only ever drank to get rid of that noise blaring into his ear the way it was now, the way it was for all three of them.

And Tim couldn’t turn to that same comfort, or whatever it was that caffeine, stinging eyelids, and an unhealthy staring into a computer screen with an all nighter at the office would bring him. That night after the fight, he couldn’t sleep, even when he tried to. Which led to no one’s knowing, a cup of coffee when the day had risen and he was forced to go on with that said day like nothing happened. That cup would turn to two. Three. Eventually it dawned on him that he’d slept what he should have in a single day in a span of three.

Dick’s training, as it turned out, wasn’t so healthy at all. The strain in his wrists began a little over two hours ago. He’d been at the grounds for quadruple that time. For that day alone. Would it kill him if he didn’t stop? Probably not. Would it almost kill him? Probably. But he went on. Kept his hands busy. Forced himself to feel that exhaustion that should be taking his mind out of everything and not amplify it.

But this was only the beginning of what eventually would be that highway to descent, to some slope with no ladder to climb back up to, no guide for them to reverse and no light at the end that would eventually bring some alternative to the truth. They only had the truth to hold on.

Their brotherhood. One so strained. So complicated. One that took far too much time to build and rebuild. They couldn’t, not even if they wanted to, be apart from this family, deny that they were a part of it. They couldn’t escape each other’s presence no matter how many times they’d change their numbers or block out their trackers or find another city to live in. They couldn’t lose something that had grown too strong for them to fight against. That night, they tried. Or rather, the forces tried. The forces run by their bitter rivalry or the want for the same woman.

It was the fifth night after that fight, when Dick let go of the bars, finally giving his hands that rest too many hours overdue. He wiped his sweat, drank from his bottle, and pulled out his phone. That night, he thought it was enough, that this silence and bitterness and sheer negligence over their bond would eventually break for permanence. He knew that this coping was only just the beginning, and that it will, for everything he was certain about, would it become so much more, something so dark, that it would pull the whole family apart. He didn’t want that. For any of them. So that night, he sent a text to Tim and Jason.

Tim’s first account wasn’t on his brothers, though it had crossed his mind many more times than he would have hoped. His first thought, if anything, was how Y/N would have thought if he let himself fall. It’d be in his rule this time, that he wouldn’t let the caffeine get to him or reach to such extremes he’d never otherwise control. But Y/N wasn’t going to believe that, as nobody should. Hell, he probably shouldn’t place that much faith onto himself at all. Even if he does so much as lose an hour of sleep, one for every night until there wasn’t any hours left, if he allows himself one more cup when he had one just half an hour before, he knew it’d be just the beginning.

So, when he got that text from Dick, he realized it wasn’t worth much the risk.

He hated them both like he’s hated no one else, wanted them to realize just how much of a wreck their doings have imprinted on him and Y/N, how the consequences that followed weren’t nearly what they deserved at all. But if he doesn’t fight that hate, if he doesn’t find peace, it’ll be that darkness for him, that same life he hadn’t learned to control, one where he once lost himself to. and in turn, made him lose Y/N. And he’ll lose her again if he won't listen to that conscience. He texted Dick back and told him to meet him at Pauli’s.

Jason, on the other hand, acted as was expected of him. When he saw that text the first thing his lack of conscience told him was to get another phone and forget it all happened, disappear for another few months, show up when it was convenient, and hope that this all blows over before his escapism backfires.

But he never did get to bring himself to throw out his phone and get a new one, much less delete the text before he’s even seen it. A few days after, he let that daft little voice in him to open the text, allow himself a few seconds just to witness its premise. But he’d read through everything in that split second he allowed himself to. Dick didn’t really have much to say. And what else was to come next other than the few days of tussling and fighting and the many more bottles of booze that were not at all helping with those same voices that just wouldn’t shut up.

Was this all worth it? Was anything worth this at all?

Because those few years it took just to have any sort of a conversation with Dick, much more with Tim, certainly wasn’t a few years of a bond rebuilt that he wanted to go through again.

He loved them. In his own, twisted little way. He loved his brothers and actually would go out his way to save them from whatever horrors he’d been forced to face. That love didn’t have to be from occasionally hanging out in the holidays or spent an hour or two in a bar.

At least, in his conscience, if he were to die one day like he’d realize would happen again, knowing life wasn’t exactly his alone to spend and control, he’d know he did whatever was best for the people he loved.

So, despite Dick and Tim not at all expecting so much as a text back, they still had it in them to wait a few hours. In that dimly lit corner of Pauli’s, the aroma of freshly backed pancakes distracting them from their otherwise bland pickup from the rest of their senses. They waited, not hoping for the best.

Jason went into the diner and saw them, ordered a cup, then took a seat across Tim, with Dick in between.

That silence, the same for everyday for the past five, it was haunting and eerie, disturbing, uncomforting, one they knew they’d all have to settle if they wanted to move on and actually bring some light into whatever it was they’ve caused.

Jason didn’t take off his hoodie. Tim warmed his hands with his cup of hot chocolate. And Dick, knowing he’d have to start, cleared his throat and looked up.

Dick:

Seeing Tim walk through that door was a surprise enough, much more Jason coming along and not even was he three hours late. Fuck. Fuck. What does he even say? Where does he ever start? Should he even start?

Giving in to his impulses certainly was bad an idea. This was, in every way, what he should have expected when he picked up his phone and thought to call his brothers hoping it was the right thing to do. And, perhaps, it was the right thing.

But was he the right person to start it? Lead this conversation to the direction he wanted so they’d get to a better place? The one that pushed his impulses in the first place?

They were all too awfully silent. Tim’s had his second round of hot chocolate. He doesn’t even like hot chocolate that much. And Jason looks like he’s hiding himself from the cops with his hood down and neck craned to the table’s surface. He’s never been in anything more awkward and uncomfortable in his years. This was just humiliating.

But, he was sure, humiliation should be the first thing they’d have to go through. Setting their prides aside, talk with the other’s stories in mind and hope that by the end of this, it’ll at least be a bit better.

So he started, in the most bland, uneventful way, he tells them both.

“Thanks for coming,” Dick said.

Tim momentarily bit onto his lip, and Jason stayed motionless without so much as a nod. At least Tim glanced over at him, even when it was just a second.

“How are you, Tim?”

Tim’s finger traced over the brim of his cup. He’s finished it. Didn’t seem like he wanted to order another one.

“Alright. I guess.”

“Good. Jason?”

God, this was awful. He doesn’t even ask how their broken bones are healing after a life-threatening encounter in patrol. Hopefully this greyness wasn’t too weird, not when it should be the start of something even more difficult to overcome.

Jason’s order of coffee came into the table and it made Tim shift in his seat, leaning to the back to stay further away from its aroma. Jason took a sip. “Fine.”

As quiet as they possibly could. Dick wished he had something to order, even when it was just a piece of pie they’d displayed over at the counter. But he didn’t want to get up or even call a waitress.

He was, in the most obvious sense, ashamed. Ashamed that he wasn’t either of them, which he wished nothing more to be. He wished he was them so he wouldn’t have to be the man who’d hurt Y/N the most, when he was supposed to be who she’d turn for comfort, because they weren’t the man who’d been in love with her for so long, never thinking he’d have a chance. And when he did finally have her, even for a just a moment, when he finally got to kiss her that one time he’d been waiting for so many years, it all broke down and nearly diminished what he took years to build. Their friendship. Something so great yet so fragile, when their love never could be so easily set aside to make way for a friendly bond.

“I’m sorry,” Tim said, and his voice had gone softer. “I’m sorry I started a fight. And for being so angry. That was uncalled for.”

He did want all this to be right with them. Both of them. Two of his brothers he’s learned to love. And with that love comes many sacrifices.

“You don’t have to be sorry for being angry.”

“Would you like more hot cocoa?” The waitress came in with a pitcher. Tim declined, and she left.

He stared at the empty cup and rolled his lips.

“Yeah, I… I kinda do.”

Further into the day, the less people there were in the diner. And with that came more silence. There were half the people in there than when they’d first arrived. Soon enough, they’ll be the only ones left.

“I’m sorry, too.”

Then, without even a word, Dick and Tim turned over to Jason.

They didn’t expect him to apologize, or even say anything for that matter, possibly for the rest of the night.

But Jason shrugged, looked up at both of them in the eye, and he nodded. It was enough for them both to know what he meant.

Jason:

Get this over with. As quick as they possibly could. But he should know by now that this was going to take time. With how difficult it was. This wasn’t going to end any better than when they’d started if they rush through.

Jason took a sip out of his coffee and leaned his arms over on the table. Still, he didn’t take off his hoodie, as if he was going to take off not long from then.

“I don’t exactly know where to start,” Dick said. “But I think we should put this out there now.”

Neither of them looked him in the eye. He and Tim both stared at their cups as if it were any interesting.

“I’m sorry if I’m doing this wrong. I’m just saying what I think is best.”

“It’s okay,” Tim said. “Just go on.”

This was harder than when they had to help out the League face Brainiac. And that certainly was something.

“I love Y/N.”

Okay. Wasn’t what he thought Dick would say. But okay.

“Tim loves her, too.”

Shit. Alright. So that’s what this motherfucker thinks he’s doing.

“And I for sure as hell know, that you love her as well, Jason-“

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jason’s voice was deep, controlled, and as monotonous as he forced it to be. Without a flick of a lie or a speck of truth, as they both would have easily picked up if they listened to him hard enough. That is, if it worked. Which it probably hadn’t.

“We don’t know who she wants…” Dick said. “And frankly, I don’t think she does, too. At least for now.”

“It could be any of us.” Tim didn’t take his sight away from the blankness of the white table’s surface.

He can't take this. No. He never should have opened that text. This was a bad idea.

Y/N will choose one of them. Not him. Not when he was the one who fell in love with her far too late, realized just how perfectly imperfect and how she managed to be this little bundle of happiness for him that he never could find in another. Someone whose presence he yearned for on the days when he thought nothing could be okay. He realized all that when too late, when his brothers already cemented their places and have already gone out of their way to win her love. And, on top of all that, he was the one he didn’t have a close friendship as a ground for something to lean onto. They weren’t close. Not like she was with Tim. Not even with Dick.

“This is ridiculous,” Jason stood up from his seat with his cup half finished. “I’m leaving.”

“Jason-“

“Dick, I want no part of this-“

“You can deny it all you want, but what if she chooses you?”

“She won't choose me. That’s the point-“

“Everyone knows that’s just as much of a possibility than everything else. It didn’t even take much time, and already you’ve wooed her. You think we didn’t notice that?”

Jason stopped and faced the counter, away from his brothers.

“Just sit down.”

“Dick-“

“I know this hurts but what if she actually does choose you-“

“I don’t love her.”

“You do. And she might love you back.”

No. Don’t bring his hopes up like this. This fucking-

“And if she does, are you really going to turn her down?”

Jason closed his eyes. He had nothing to say.

“No matter what Tim and I do, if it’s you she wants, then it’s you who’ll make her happy. Do you honestly think I believe you won't at least take that chance?”

Nothing. No voices whispering into his conscience to fuck everything and leave. Nothing that told him what to do, much less what to say.

He just knew that whatever he was, it wasn’t nearly as strong as that one pull that forced him back on his seat.

This shitshow already hurts as it is. What’s a little more?

Tim:

There’s a chance for all of them.

That’s what has always been so hard for him to understand. Never would he have thought it to be true, but it was.

They were both good men, good people, and if he were honest, he’d admit to Y/N being lucky if she were ever to choose one of his brothers in the end. He never, ever wanted to admit that. Not even now.

But for so long, he’s ignored the fact that those choices might be for her happiness, for what she deserves, and that might not always be about Tim. That whatever it was he wouldn’t admit to himself didn’t mean it wasn’t true. Y/N smiles like no other with Dick and no one else understood her like Jason. Even if Tim were her best friend, even if they had together from the very beginning, even if he probably loved her the most. It won't be about that.

So he has to accept all this.

And if it meant her happiness, then that hurt will be a lot easier to deal with.

“He’s right,” he said, and his two older brothers looked up at him.

“I’ve always thought you two… Well, I wish I was in your place. Not always. But, right now I do.”

They were confused to say the least. They didn’t look like they understood. Tim was the one who got to be with her, had years of calling her his love, had her love in return and have her actually show it the same way he did.

But that was just that. He had her. And now he didn’t. Because of him. Because he had her and was stupid enough to let her go, something neither of his brothers would have done if they were him.

And he wanted to laugh at the looks of both their faces. They didn’t have to say anything at all, but he understood. They envied each other in so many other ways, too complicated to map out. Because they’ve all done their own grievances, done so much that they regret.

Which is why this had to happen. Because no one knew what was going to happen next.

“I know it’s hard for all of us…” Dick said. Tim stared out at the window to see the start of the cold evening. “But we’re brothers. I don’t know about you both, but I don’t want this to tear us all apart.”

It already did, he wanted to say.

But it might not be true. It might not be too late. This brotherhood could still be salvaged. And in a way, it might be worth all that hurt.

“The last few weeks have been hard… for all of us… taken its toll on the rest of the family. And we’ve worked too hard on each other. I don’t…” Dick swallowed. “I don’t want to lose Y/N, but I don’t want to lose both of you either.”

It was easier for him to shut his eyes closed.

Neither do I, Tim thought.

“But… Y/N deserves to be happy… We’ve put her through too much.

“And if it means being with the one she loves, one of us, then so be it. We’re done making her decisions. We don’t decide between the three of us. If she wants to choose, then she gets to choose. And we won't have a say in any of it. She decides if it’s one or none of us at all. She deserves this.”

Jason finished his coffee. He no longer sat so stiff.

Tim sat back on his chair and stared out the window.

“And whatever it is, we’ll deal with it. As brothers. We’ll have each other. It’ll be okay. We’ll make it okay.”

That cold night of late November had the first snowdrop of the year. It was light, subtle, and one would have missed it if they weren’t looking out for too long. But they saw it, and never had something so gentle calm what used to be this rageful storm, not since Y/N.

They hadn’t spoken another word in that diner. But for many hours, they stayed.

They continued to wait for many months. They were patient.

October. November. December. January passed.

And on that day of the second week of February, a day Y/N once loved and hated at different times, they put an end to that waiting.

-----

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST

-----

A/N: I honestly can’t wait for the finale. AHHHH

MAIN TAGLIST:

@idkmanicantenglish, @wunderstell, @birdy-bat-writes, @multifandomgirl-us, @icequeen208, @offendedfishnoises, @arkhamtoddler, @elsenthal, @lucy-roo, @loxbbg, @reclusive-chicken-nugget, @l-inkage, @http-cherries, @river9noble, @zphilophobiaz, @annoylinglyaries, @knightfall05x, @hyp-oh-critical, @satan-s-ass, @1-800-starmora, @flowersgirl02, @nahcho, @thatonecroc, @trixie-bb, @daddyissuesmademe, jasonsbitch, @shadowsndaisies @jaybirdbooty @writing2sirvive

SERIES TAGLIST:

@spaceservicestation, @thedeadlythoughts, @vanessafabricius, @pinkforest05

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mischief-managed-snitches · 4 years ago

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Obispo Losa

Part two of Obispo and Lily. I have so many ideas for this and I'm so excited to try them out! Thank you all for the love and encouragement!

Warnings: Swearing, Angst

As always, I do not own anything Mayans related. I do own my character and her story.

My first language is English. I do know some Spanish but I am not fluent. I will be keeping the Spanish in this story to a minimum to avoid butchering a beautiful language.

"Come on, it'll be fun!"

"You said that last time, Leti."

"I know and I'm really sorry about what happened, but I swear nothing like that would ever go down here. The guys wouldn't allow it."

"I don't know, Leti..."

"Come on! Bishop has been asking about you. He wants to see you."

"He said that?"

"...In so many words."

"Leti!"

"He has been asking about you! 'how's your friend, Leticia? How's her arm? Have you seen her today?" Leti dropped her voice to mimic the low bravado that was Bishop's voice.

"He did not ask you all that!"

"He did!"

"Really?"

"Yes, Lily!"

"Okay, what time is this party?"

"Uhh the guys have a meeting and then we usually party afterwards. Maybe like eight o'clockish? I'll text you the address."

"Sounds good."

"Oh and Lily, wear something slu-"

Click.

Lily tapped the red button quickly, not wanting to hear the rest of that sentence. She would wear whatever she wanted and it would not be to impress any man. Or so she thought, until the clock ticked 7:30 and she was buzzing around her bedroom, ripping open drawers and rifling through her closet like a mad woman. Swearing under her breath, Lily's frustration mounted as nothing seemed to fit right.

Lily was a bit curvier than most women, especially her friend Leti. Borrowing an outfit from her would be out of the question and some how everything in Lily's closet just seemed wrong. Blowing out an annoyed puff of air, Lily looked back over her clothes, trying not to be so critical. Bishop probably wouldn't even notice, not with all his friends around. Or so she hoped...

Gravel crunched under her tires as Lily turned off the road and into the driveway of what looked like some kind of auto mechanic business. A sign for oil changes and tire rotations hung out front, welcoming visitors into what looked like a run down garage. Random cars sat around, looking like they were falling apart or maybe just scrap pieces for other projects. A house sat connected to the garage, a porch welcomed any visitors and a large fire pit sat in front of its steps with a few picnic tables dotted around.

Parking her car off to the side, Lily wondered if she had the wrong address. Eyeing the row of motorcycles, she changed her mind. This had to be right.

Lily stepped out of her car just as the front door opened. A man she recognized immediately stepped out. Black hair buzzed close to his head, thin mustache, thick muscled arms. Oh yeah, she remembered him. He had steadied her when the guy had shoved her and then later, Leti had hugged him like they were best friends.

Lily offered him a smile, noting the way his leather vest differed slightly from the others she had seen. "Hi, I'm Lily, Leti invited me?"

"Yeah, hi, EZ."

"Wait, what?"

"Ezekiel Reyes, EZ for short." He grinned, "nice to meet you Lily." His eyes seemed to twinkle in the fading light. Somewhere in her mind she knew instantly that he was someone she could trust and with that realization a portion of her nervousness evaporated. EZ met her at the bottom of the porch steps, shaking her hand gently.

"Nice to meet you too." She couldn't help but return his smile, it was infectious.

"Leticia's inside, you can head on in, I'm going to start a fire." EZ jerked his head toward the door.

"Thank you!" Lily stepped inside, looking around at the unusual decor. A large statue of Saint Mary stood by the door, various framed pictures hung on the walls and the furniture looked like hand-me-downs from an array of different homes with different styles. The place was definitely decorated by men. Lily laughed to herself, smile growing as she spotted her friend across the room. Though the place was dimly lit, Lily could plainly see Leticia working hard behind the bar. Her hands moved quickly, preparing drinks, or food, or both. Glancing up as Lily shut the door, Leticia let out a squeal.

"You made it!"

"I did!"

"Yay! Get over here and help me prep this stuff! The guys will be out any minute."

"Out?" Lily dropped her purse on the bar stool at the end before walking around the bar. As expected, there was a mini kitchen set-up back there. Fridge, stove, microwave, sink, what little counter Lily could see was covered in random food items. Everything from salsa and chips to hot dogs and hamburgers sat before them.

"Yeah, they had a meeting tonight, but it should be over soon." She nodded in the direction of a rusted sliding door. "They'll grill the meat for us, but I like to have the sides and stuff ready to go a while."

"Okay," Lily wasn't sure what kind of meeting she meant, but it didn't matter anyway. She was too busy trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach to ask anything else. Leti handed her a knife and a bowl of peppers, instructing her to chop them up.

Lily had just finished the bowl and was washing her hands when a metallic screech filled the. Lifting her eyes as the door rolled open, Lily watched as the first few guys stepped through. One broke away from the rest, smiling at her as he plopped himself on the nearest bar stool.

"What's up, how are you?"

"Good, thank you, better than when we first met."

"Glad to hear it!" He swiped a stand of black hair away from his face, smiling at her warmly.

"Lily, this is my dad, Coco."

Lily felt her brows raise, surprised by the information. He looked so young, more like a brother than a father. She didn't comment on it though, instead, she smiled, offering her hand, "nice to meet you, Coco. Thanks for helping out the other night."

"Nahh, that was all Bish. We were just back up if things popped off."

"Sounds like they did later!" Leti jumped in.

"Yeah! Heard Bish broke that pendejo's nose!"

"Serves him right!" Lily stayed quiet, smiling as Leti and Coco continued talking. They really did act a lot alike and the resemblance in their faces was uncanny.

Eyes flicking to the doorway again, Lily was surprised by the amount of disappointment that washed through her.

"Bish is still at the table. Thinking things through I guess." Coco supplied, meeting her eyes with a knowing smile. Lily blushed, nodding as she looked down at her hands.

"Why don't you take him a beer? Tell him the meats on the grill?" Leti suggested, elbowing her gently.

"Yeah, that ones his favorite." Coco leaned across the bar, pointing to one of the many bottles they had just uncapped for the guys.

"Do you think that would be okay?" Lily asked awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other.

"As long as he's not talking business with anyone, he shouldn't care." Coco shrugged, taking a bottle for himself.

Lily nodded again, grabbing the bottle he had pointed to and striding confidently across the room. Her bravery didn't last long though. By the time she was standing in the door way her anxiety was back in full swing. The coast was clear, no one else was with him.

He sat alone, smoking a cigarette, papers laying in front of him. The room was dark, one single light hung overhead, casting a soft glow over Bishop's chair. He looked like a king sitting in the spotlight. His bulky frame illuminated against the dark of the room.

It's now or never.

Lily cleared her throat, stepping into the room hesitantly, praying he wouldn't throw her back out. He looked deep in thought and extremely tired, probably not in the mood to chit chat. This was a bad idea. Lily berated herself. What made her think this was a good plan?

Bishop's head lifted, cigarette nearly falling out of his mouth as he realized who was joining him. Her breath caught in her throat as he looked at her. Dark eyes fell all the way to her feet, taking in a pair of blood-red heels before dragging slowly up her body to land on her face. The black dress she'd chosen clung to her body in way that she hoped was flattering and not accenting her every bump and roll. She shifted on her feet, suddenly questioning her decision to wear this outfit. That was... Until she watched his tongue poke out of his mouth, wetting his lips almost nervously. Dropping his cigarette into a nearby ash tray, Bishop stood up, almost toppling his chair with his hastiness.

"Lily?"

"Hi, Obispo." She smiled, heat rising to her cheeks as he stared openly at her. "I umm... Brought you a drink." She lifted the bottle, stepping closer to hold it out to him. She swallowed hard as he walked around the table, wrapping his hand around the neck of the bottle, grazing her fingers as he took it.

"Thank you." His mustache lifted as he smiled at her, eyes twinkling with something she couldn't place. "Am I drinking alone?" He spoke teasingly, lifting the beer to his lips and taking a slow sip.

Lily watched his throat work as he swallowed it, clocked the way his plush lips pressed against the glass. Clearing her throat again, Lilly took a step back. "I-I don't really drink, but I uh... I wanted to let you know the meats on the grill a- and the food will be ready soon."

"Thank you," he said again with that same smile on his lips. He was amused by her awkwardness, finding her stammering cute. He liked this kind of nervousness, jitters brought on by attraction and not fear. Seeing her retreat another step, Bishop pushed off the table where he was previously leaning. "You don't have to go."

"I should help Leti with the rest of the stuff." Lily jerked a thumb over her shoulder, stumbling as she bumped into a chair.

"Watch that, querida." Bishop gave her a lopsided smile, taking one long step forward, the urge to be closer to her guiding his feet.

"Yeah..." Lily took another step back, tripping over another chair in the process. This time she couldn't catch herself, she was too shaken, too flustered. Bishop lunged forward, wrapping an arm around her waist before she could fall.

He pulled her upright, tugging her against his chest, steadying her with one hand all while holding his beer with the other. The little gasp that left her lips had his heart stuttering in his chest. "Easy does it, querida." His breath fanned her face, his voice low and soft.

He smelled of cigarettes and leather and a hint of spearmint. His hand laid heavy on her back, fingers splayed wide, each one burning a hole through the material of the dress. He was warm and tall and all hard planes where she was short and soft, fitting perfectly against his broad chest. Lily's small hands pressed to his stomach, torn between pushing him away and letting him hold her.

"Bish..." It was soft and breathy and effecting him in way that was completely inappropriate for only talking to her twice.

"I'm here, Preciosa." He spoke with the same volume as her, hushed, low, a tone that shot right to her belly. Her insides seems to melt and mush. A shiver crawled down her spine, goosebumps raising on her arms. He gazed down at her, dark eyes boring into hers as his thumb traced a slow circle on her lower back.

"Lily! Get your ass out here and help me!" Leti yelled from the other room sounding agitated. Lily startled in his arms, and just like that the spell was broken. Her hands were pushing off his stomach and she was stepping away before he could stop her.

Bishop dropped his arm reluctantly, feeling as if all the heat was zapped from his body as he did. It took everything in him not to reach out and pull her back, instead he gripped his beer tighter, sinking back into a chair as she disappeared through the doorway. Releasing a sigh, Bishop raked a hand through his hair. Shit.

#romance #writing #writer #ez reyes #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa x you #bishop losa #obispo losa #mayans imagine #mayans fanfic #mayans mc #mayans x oc #fiction #fanfic #lovestory #Obispo Losa x Lily

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yeojaa · 4 years ago

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finders keep hers, iii.

read parts one and two! the long awaited conclusion! i’m sorry it turned into a friggin’ novel. i hope it does the first two parts justice, though. these kids are... idiots. i love them and you (and also the best beta reader @hobi-gif)! 💖

pairing. jjk x named f!reader. rating. explicit, ofc. tags. this is... really soft at certain parts. and then really raunchy at others. oops? but fr - mainly fluff with some smut at the end. you might need a filling. wc. 5.4k.

You’re buzzed into the building without a moment’s hesitation, the kind concierge with the gummy smile and greying temples beaming at you as you enter. “Nice to see you, Miss Lee.”

“You too, Mr. Choi.” A grin of your own is offered, gym bag hiked higher over your shoulder as you pause to chat. You’re in no rush. “Is he home?”

“I don’t believe so.” The sudden look of disapproval that colours the older gentleman’s features is almost comical, reminiscent of a disparaging parent. It’s the same expression you’re greeted with nearly every time you visit. “He left in a town car yesterday afternoon and I don’t think he’s been back since. That boy’s going to get himself in trouble one day.” As if Jungkook didn’t already - as if it didn’t follow him around, glued to the bottoms of his Italian leather shoes.

“Tell me about it.”

“You know…” There’s that twinkle in Mr. Choi’s eyes again - the one that tells you he’s about to repeat the same words he always does when he catches you alone. “A nice girl like you could get him to settle down.”

Your response is what it always is - a scoff and a laugh rolled into one. It careens off your tongue, ringing in the spacious lobby. “I don’t think anyone will ever get him to settle down.”

How true that is, you’re not sure. For your sake, you try not to think about it too much.

The old man is undeterred though, shrugging his narrow shoulders beneath the neat uniform he wears. It’s a little loose in the chest but immaculate otherwise, tie knotted in a classic Windsor and collar ironed perfectly. He levels you with that shrewd stare of his but says nothing further, simply engaging you in an unspoken staring contest.

Sometimes, you wonder how much he sees. How much he knows .

You break before he does, tearing your gaze away and blinking rapidly. He laughs, full bellied and deep from the chest. “Get on upstairs, Miss Lee.” You aren’t offended by the dismissal. “It’s always nice chatting with you.”

You remind yourself to bring him chocolates the next time you’re by. The ones with hazelnuts, because those are his favourite. A fact you only know because you’ve helped your best friend pick up a box for him every Christmas, writing the card and having him sign it right before it gets left behind the desk.

Actually, you helped Jungkook with a lot of things. Always had. It was simply the nature of your friendship - passed down by your parents and forged stronger by childhood playdates, your fair share of teenage squabbling, and college hangovers so bad they’d created an unbreakable bond.

Whenever he would need you, you’d be there - whether that meant picking him up at 4 AM from the airport because he wanted “some shitty fast food and to see you” or helping him pick gifts for Mother’s Day. There was no task too small, no moment too inconsequential.

Unconditional love, they called it.

It’s why you have no problem swanning into his apartment with the extra key you’ve had since he moved in, kicking off your trainers and tucking them neatly alongside the rows of black leather and expensive sneakers.

You do so much for him that you take where you can, indulging in all of the luxuries you’ve never been afforded. Unparalleled view, stupidly expensive toiletries, a damn jacuzzi tub .

You pull your sweater over your head - truthfully, one of Jungkook’s from college that you’d never felt inclined to give back - and toss it over the back of a barstool on your way into the guest suite. Your bag follows shortly after, deposited at the foot of the bed that exists as a rotating welcome mat to your and Jungkook’s circle of friends.

The rest of your clothes - sports bra, shorts, thong, socks - are stripped, folded, and tucked into the laundry bag you keep handy. You know you could leave them here and Jungkook’s housekeeper would take care of it, but you’ve never been too comfortable with that. Different upbringings.

The spray is like sweet relief the moment you step beneath the rainforest shower. It’s the perfect temperature and pressure, melting the sweat and tension from your bones.

But it isn't why you’re here, so you make quick work in the glass enclosure, scrubbing your body bare and lathering and conditioning your hair into a squeaky clean mess. Any other time, you’d just spend a good half hour standing beneath the head but you’re feeling particularly indulgent today.

Call it a spa day, courtesy of one Jeon Jungkook.

You don’t bother to dry off, water splashing across the floor as you step from the shower and sink into the spacious tub that overlooks the heart of Seoul. Diptyque bath oil encapsulates the room in a bubble of sweet almond, similarly branded candle burning on the ledge. The jets release a steady stream against your tired back and legs, massaging your limbs into jelly.

You can’t help the sigh of utter relaxation that rolls off your tongue, sinking into water in the same instance your shoulders do.

This is what dreams are made of. Anyone who says differently is an idiot and a liar.

“When are you going to tell her?”

You’re not expecting the voice and it breaks the silence like a thousand pound weight, shattering the calm and nearly startling you enough for you to knock your head on the edge of the tub.

There’s no reason for you to be surprised. Not really. This isn’t your home, after all. You aren’t entitled to any sort of privacy.

It doesn’t matter, though. The discomfort in your chest is unfolding regardless, lodging rocks in your throat.

Because it’s a female voice. Lilting, soft, draped in familiarity. Not someone brand new.

Your heart stutters at the realisation. The rush of blood against your eardrums is so loud you momentarily wonder whether they can hear it all the way in the living room. They must be able to - it’s practically deafening. You can’t even hear the rest of their conversation.

Their conversation .

Which seems to have ended, leaving only silence.

You suddenly remember your shoes, your sweater. Traces of you littered throughout the apartment that isn’t yours. God, you’re an idiot. He was going to kill you - or she was. You’re not sure which is worse.

You’re reaching for the fluffy white towel on the rack when you’re scared near half to death yet again. This time, by your best friend who cuts an imposing figure in the doorway, broad form resting casually against the frame. He looks surprisingly unbothered, curls pushed back from his forehead by a pair of sunglasses and arms folded over his chest.

“Jesus!” The shriek comes four octaves higher than it normally would, pitching into the open so loudly you wince. “You scared me!”

You can’t help the way you peek past his shoulder for a sign of the girl he’d brought home.

“Enjoying yourself?” There’s something amused dancing in the darks of his eyes, his mouth curving around the same emotion as he steps into the bathroom. You’d be bothered if he were anyone else, unnecessarily long legs carrying him to you in three strides.

“I didn’t know you were home.” You can’t quite meet his stare, still far too distracted by the mystery woman. Had he left her on the couch? Maybe his bedroom as he snuck you out? What excuse could he come up with?

“Didn’t know you were home either.”

He’s made himself comfortable right on the ledge of the tub, marked fingers dragging lazily through the still-scalding water. He doesn’t seem terribly in a rush. That puts you on edge.

Was he going to hide you in here?

“I wanted to relax after my run.” You don’t owe him an explanation - not really - but you offer it anyway. You figure you need to, when you might’ve ruined his Sunday morning romp session. You can’t bring yourself to address it, though. The words just won’t come, sitting on the tip of your tongue like thorns. It hurts to swallow.

Jungkook doesn’t further the conversation - a first for him. He’s normally a chatterbox.

The silence stretches on. Suffocating.

You force yourself to speak, staring down at your hands that are slowly pruning beneath the water. “Should I… go?” The way it comes is feeble, soft, uncertain. You hate it.

By the look of surprise on his face, he does, too. He cackles suddenly, like a goddamn witch. “Why?”

Heat floods across your cheeks. You wish you could blame it on the bath or the steam that still collects on the mirrors. It pulls high over your ears, colouring them tomato red and embarrassed. Surely, he knows why.

When he repeats himself, it’s harder, without any of the laughter from before.

Rather than answer, you wave a hand through the air, fingers wiggling. The universal sign for you know . It should be enough - you hope it’s enough. Your ego won’t let you verbalise it.

“Suddenly mute, baby?”

It isn’t quite mocking - teasing, maybe - but it stokes the fire that burns in the pit of your stomach and licks uncomfortably at the organ in your chest. You don’t even look at him as you nearly spit the words, petulant and far more bothered than you should be. “You’ve got a girl here.”

A laugh that isn’t quite a laugh comes, swathed in velvet and coloured blue. The effort you make to not shoot him a glare is herculean.

He’s still snickering when he speaks. “You mean my sister?”

“Your sister?” It’s more surprise at yourself that has you whipping to look at him, bewilderment tossing all other emotion out the window. Because his sister was practically your sister. How had you not recognised her voice? You feel silly all at once, the embarrassment from earlier fading into reticence.

“Yeah. I spent the night babysitting the twins.”

You sometimes forget how much Jungkook loves children - especially his sisters’. It’s hard to reconcile the family man he effortlessly transforms into when he spends most of his waking hours playing the perfect part of unaffected bachelor.

“How are they?” You ask because you care - you adore Minseo and Minhyuk - but also so you can move the conversation along. The last thing you want to do is dwell on your mistake.

“They’re good. Getting big.” He’s got that smile on his face - the one that’s softer than any other, with deep lines at the corners of his eyes. Reserved especially for the people he cares about most. Your favourite sight. “You can come with me next time. Minnie asked about you, anyway.”

Warmth blossoms in your chest.

Being liked by peers? Great. Being respected by your superiors? Rewarding. But being loved by children? It was in a league all its own - better than ice cream on a hot day.

“Sure.” You can’t keep the grin away.

That is, until he speaks again, circling the conversation back. “So, were you jealous?” His ability to piss you off is uncanny. It’s like it’s written into his genetic code, each molecule of his body tasked with ruining your day.

“No.” It’s meant to be a scoff. It’s not very believable.

“You sure, princess?” The fingers on your chin are wholly unnecessary - he’s got you caught in his stare, locked in place with nowhere to go.

“Yes, Bunny .” You know how much he hates the nickname, only tolerating it because it’s you. You can’t deny the pleasure that comes at the sight of his jaw tensing, muscle jumping in agitation. Just as he’s your weakness, you’re his, too. “Now let me finish—”

He cuts you off, sharp and unrelenting: “Get out.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Get out of the tub or I’m pulling you out myself.” Risen to his full height, he’s an imposing figure. Even worse, there’s something you can’t read in his expression - something that has your nerves firing wildly. Your heart rattles around in your chest, uncertain.

He leaves you without another word.

You scramble out of the bath as quickly as your confused limbs allow you, knotting the towel beneath your arms. You’re not quite sure what to do next, caught between pulling your clean clothes out of your workout bag and demanding an answer from your sphinx of a best friend.

What the hell was his problem?

Your impatience wins out as you’re tugging a brush through your hair, fumbling uncharacteristically through knots until you’re too frustrated to continue. You’re ready to tear into him when you storm out of the guestroom; you’ve got a barrage of insults on your tongue, proverbial gun cocked and ready to unload.

They melt away when you spy him on the couch, neatly wrapped bouquet laid across the coffee table.

“Come here.” It’s not a request so much as a demand - commanding and soft all at once. A small part of you wants to fire off a rebuttal; that part dies when he repeats himself, louder this time.

The seat you take beside him is begrudging, a good foot of space held between your bodies. You fiddle with the hem of your towel, turning a loose thread over and over your index finger.

“What?” It’s snippy, discontent - kerosene on the fire that burns beneath Jungkook’s skin.

“Watch it,” he retorts, though there’s no acid to his words. Frankly, he sounds more frustrated than angry, more exasperated than pissed off.

That makes one of you.

Only he can bring out this side of you - brusque and biting. “ You watch it, Bunny.”

Fingers find the bridge of his nose, a gesture you don’t see very often. Guilt blooms behind your ribcage as he rubs at the tension between his eyes. For someone who has it all, he looks like he’s a moment away from losing it.

“You’re a brat, you know that?”

“Takes one to know one,” you retort, not unkindly.

“You’re making this really hard,” he snaps in the same instant he all but throws the overwhelming bunch of flowers at you.

You nearly drop them you’re so surprised.

“What are these for?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Did I stutter?”

If you weren’t so busy studying the arrangement of florals, you’d have some witty comeback. As it stands, you’re preoccupied by the pretty bunch of peonies and tulips. You wonder what he’s done wrong - why he’s found it necessary to soften the blow with your favourite flowers.

Your thoughts drift back to his sister’s words: when are you going to tell her?

All at once, you want nothing more than to leave. You don’t want whatever heartbreak is about to come. You’re not ready for it.

“Listen—”

He cuts you off, again. “I love you.”

You’re not sure how your face looks. You imagine you could look up flabbergasted in the dictionary and you’d find a photo of your expression right now. “What?”

Jungkook won’t quite look at you, intently focused on an indiscernible point against the far wall. When he speaks the words again, they’re full of uncertainty - but not in the way you expect. The confession is as believable as any you’ve ever heard - he really does sound like he loves you - but somehow, it’s draped in dread and held aloft by hummingbird wings. “I love you.”

He’s nervous, you realise in amazement.

“Come again?”

He meets your stare then, brow knitting with unease. He doesn’t say it again, though.

“Are you messing around with me?” You don’t mean it how it comes - a little accusatory.

“I’m not an asshole.” Except both of you know he certainly can be. You don’t call him on it, though, opting instead to peer curiously at him, hands fisted around the bouquet in your lap. “I talked to my sister. She…” He shrugs once, an almost helpless roll of his shoulders. “She told me I was an idiot.”

You’re not surprised by that. Lina had always been the one to give it to him straight.

“She said I would lose you if I didn’t get my shit together.” There’s a bit of childish petulance that works its way into each syllable - he hates being told what to do. “Said I needed to tell you or I’d regret it. Which is stupid, because we’ve been best friends forever and she’s younger than me so what does she know—” He must realise he’s rambling, something he never does. “But—”

“But?” Quiet, hopeful, coaxing.

There’s a warmth in your chest - illuminating and golden and so bright it hurts to think about. It grows with each moment that passes, spurred on by the look in his eyes and how they find yours.

Hesitation pulls the silence a beat too long. The light wanes. You wonder if the moment has passed.

And then he continues, a little more earnestly. “Was she right? Am I going to lose you?”

You’re not entirely sure what he’s asking. You don’t think he even knows what he’s asking. You try to answer anyway, as honest as you can without pinning your heart directly on your sleeve. “You’ll never lose me.”

“You know what I mean.”

Did you? “You’ll never lose me.” You’re the one repeating yourself this time, just that bit harder.

“Then say it.” Again, not a request. A prayer, perhaps. Ardent and needy - a world away from the Jeon Jungkook you know.

You don’t hesitate. “I love you.”

He doesn’t either - upon you so quickly you don’t have time to blink or think.

How he kisses you now feels different. More . It’s like being consumed entirely - changed from the inside out in ways you never thought possible. Where he touches, sparks fly, filling you like stars in the night sky. Lava rolls over every inch, dragging heat and want and need from the soles of your feet to the tip of your nose. You’re gasping rather than breathing, clawing against the front of his shirt and twining your fingers into the strands that curl over his nape.

“You never told me you could kiss like that.” It’s lacking coherence, made by a partial inhale and wild, wondrous eyes.

His response is a laugh and another kiss, forceful and adoring and utterly devastating. “Shut up,” he mouths against your lips, tongue licking over your teeth and gums like he’s trying to memorise every inch of you. Hands follow in the same amorous motions, tugging and pulling and aching for you closer; the tips of his fingers sear white hot heat over your hips, the small of your waist, the delicate bones of your ribcage.

“I’m serious...” You really are - far more than you should be. You’d been missing out on this ? It’s incomprehensible.

The sound he makes is more of a growl, playful and resounding in the cavern of his chest. It rattles your own, sending your heart on a downward spiral into the pit of your stomach. His nose traces the column of your throat, soft lips guiding him further until he’s mouthing hotly over the bare skin of your shoulder. Tongue teases, delves ever so gently into the dip of your collarbone, and swipes back up, laving over the maroon that peeks around the edge of his teeth. You can’t help but keen, holding him so closely you wonder if you’re suffocating him.

“So am I.” Each syllable is punctuated by another nip, another nibble. It seems like his goal is to bloom roses across your skin - a wreath to welcome him home, made by his own touch.

You don’t mind.

“Say it again,” he demands, hopeful and unashamed from his place against your neck.

The admission comes easily, as if it’s always lived on the tip of your tongue. “I love you.”

“Again.” You’re not ready for the way he stares at you - like he’s never done before. Like he’s seeing you for the first time and he’s awestruck. “Say it again.”

“I love you.” Hands find the familiar contours of his face, thumbs brushing over the hollows of his eyes, over the beauty mark that sits front and centre beneath his lip. Each graze follows a repetition of the confession, as if you might burn the three simple words beneath his skin - write it into his DNA like he’s written into yours. “I love you. I love you. I love you, Bunny .”

He holds you close - so tightly it feels almost as if he’ll crush you - and captures your mouth again. It’s more gentle but just as lovesick. A thousand unspoken words spill from his tongue to yours, swallowed whole with greed you don’t bother to hide.

“I need you.” It’s whiny, framed by a pout that could end wars and paired with doe eyes so wide and innocent you almost want to roll your own.

“You have me.”

“Do I?” There’s a very deliberate roll of his hips, denim of his jeans rough against the exposed softness of your inner thighs, hands manoeuvring over the partially covered swell of your hips. The press of his fingers is purposeful, digging tension into every inch. As if he might transfer some of the unadulterated need that thrums through his veins, turning his heart to jelly and brain to mush.

“Since when do you ask?” You have a point.

“You’re right,” his grin is almost lazy, drawing over his mouth in a measured crawl. “Good girls just do what they’re told, right?” His grips tightens almost imperceptibly, holding you to him almost effortlessly. You’ve been in this position a hundred times before but it’s never been this easy - like breathing.

The gasp you offer is all mock affront, hand laid palm-down across your chest. You don’t miss the way his gaze follows it before ticking lower, unabashed in its admiration. “Are you saying I’m not?”

“Don’t know, baby.” The war on your neck has resumed, teeth traded seamlessly for the softer promise of his tongue, the dry brush of his lips. It’s almost sinful, garnering sighs of affection and need from somewhere low in your throat. “Want to be a good girl for me?”

You’re not quite used to this version of him - playful and needy and not nearly as demanding as usual. A part of you wants to draw out the side of him you know is there, hidden just beneath the surface; the other wants to bask in this, all feather soft and cotton candy sweet.

“Always,” you return, with a coquettish smile and fluttering lashes.

“Always,” he murmurs, tasting it for the first time. He sounds almost giddy when he repeats it once, then twice, then a third time for good measure. You think it’ll come again, laughter rolling off your tongue as you stare into the eyes of the boy you love. Instead, he speaks in a voice full of gravel and grit, all traces of your sunshine boy suddenly swallowed whole by the darks of his pupils. “Fuck - I can’t wait to have you.”

“Then what’re you waiting for?” You don’t need to push him. You like to do it anyway. It feels right .

“You’re the worst.” What Jungkook means is you’re the best and I love you and I’m going to fuck you six ways into next week . What he means is this is the scariest thing he’s ever done but it’s all right because he has you. What he means is thank you - and how he shows it is through worship.

On the way to the bedroom, he crowds every inch of you, holding you so closely you wonder if he’s trying to carve himself into your bones. He’s firm and unrelenting, balancing you against his chest as he smothers every available inch of your shoulders in sweet, sloppy kisses. He revels in the way you cling to him like you’ve never needed anything else.

In his bed, he lays you out and strips you bare. He offers devotion with every pass of his fingers, every trail of his tongue. He wants you so badly it’s hard to focus on giving you everything you deserve, but he tries anyway. He sucks love into your neck and over your breasts, pinching your nipples between his fingers until you’re panting and he’s aching for the same treatment.

On his knees, he prays at the altar of your body, taking his time to map the constellations on your skin, the memories written into each scar and dot. His tongue follows the raised flesh that sits across your hip - an unfortunate mishap from a schoolyard dare. You whine and he nearly cries, soothing over the sensitive spot with hands and lips and tenderness. He lays kisses on each freckle, each irregular mark. From your navel to your knee and everywhere in between, he caresses and comforts, turning those blemishes into stars.

He also teases - subtly, quietly, with wandering hands and focused breaths. You don’t realise it until it’s too late, your insides molten, your pulse a thunderclap in your ears.

“Jungkook.” It sounds more like begging than anything. Exactly what he wants.

“What’s up, princess?” Spoken so casually, as if he isn’t between your legs, long fingers tracing through the slick that coats your thighs. He gazes up from behind too long strands, all wide-eyed and terribly sweet - until he pops a digit into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks around the taste of you. “Something wrong?”

“Stop teasing.” You hear yourself whine but it doesn’t quite sound like you, higher pitched and needier than you’ve ever been.

“I thought you were going to be good for me,” he returns with a tut and a push of that same finger deep into your cunt. He flexes it experimentally, beaming up at you when you clench around the intrusion that’s too much and not even close to being enough all at once. “You’re so wet, baby. I just slide right in.”

As if to drive his point home, he drives another finger in, scissoring them languidly to stretch you open. It’s such a pretty sight, messy and inviting. He can’t resist a taste, dragging the flat of his tongue over and around the fingers that continue to fuck into you at a faster pace.

“ Jungkook! ” You’re shrieking, bucking against the onslaught of sensations. A shapely arm immediately cages you against the bed, palm splayed across your hips.

“Stay still.” It’s a growl, teeth bared against the sensitive pearl between your legs. Words are punctuated with the softest pressure - a silent threat that goes no further. You wonder what he’ll do if he has to repeat himself. “Good girls listen, remember?”

You’re fumbling across his shoulders, nails digging crescents everywhere you can reach. You need him so badly it hurts . “Please.”

“Please what?” That patented, stupid smirk cradles his mouth, tongue peeking out as he stares at you expectantly. “If you’re going to be so demanding, at least use your words.” He watches the way your eyes roll back into your head when he slots another finger in with the others and curls them against that particular spot that has you seeing stars. The bastard has the audacity to coo at you. “What’s wrong, baby? Can’t speak?”

You’re near wailing, gasping and whining around words that sound like his name. Angry red lines sprout across his shoulders, his arms - demands carved into flesh.

He makes a sound, wistful and resigned. You think - try to think, beyond the pleasure that’s building steadily in the pit of your stomach - that he’s finally going to give you what you need. You’re almost crying for it, moisture crowding your lashes and threatening to spill over.

Then he withdraws, all at once.

You could scream. In fact, you do, red in the face and chest heaving. “I hate you!”

“No.” He’s upon you in an instant, insistent and terribly smug. There’s a playground in his smile, childish laughter spilling into the spaces between you. “You actually love me.” He noses at your neck, the heat of his palm searing against your side as he sighs almost dreamily. “Say it again.”

You answer him with something more than love - frustration and annoyance and so much devotion you can’t keep it out no matter how hard you try. “No.”

It’s a challenge more than anything. He knows it; you know it.

He accepts it readily, just as you expect him to.

“Say it.” Enamel presses steady, heavy, into the sensitive spot right beneath your ear. He mouths over the skin that blows out red and inviting beneath his ministrations, the firm press of his fingers gripping you without hesitation. You can feel the entire weight of him against you, length nestled comfortably against your core. He repeats himself as he rocks against you, dragging the swollen, leaking head of his cock through your folds with an agonising slowness that has you clenching around nothing. “Come on, baby.”

You’re keening, adjusting your hips and grinding against him. You still won’t say it, hoping to find a rhythm in the quiet that’s punctuated by your laboured breaths and his occasional laughter.

“Just say it and I’ll give you what you want. I’ll give you everything. Promise, sweetheart.”

Framed against the late morning sun, hair spilling across his forehead in curls of india ink, he’s so handsome your heart leaps into your throat. “I love you.” It’s a wet confession, carried by a wave of emotion you don’t expect.

“I love you,” he echoes, sinking into you so gradually you feel like you’re caught in slow motion, all of your focus balanced on the tip of a needle.

It’s never been like this before. Each inch is a delicious stretch, filling you and claiming you. The drag is incredible, your walls fluttering around the intrusion and aching for more. You bite back a sob, digging into the wide expanse of his back with your nails as your mouth seeks purchase anywhere it can - over his jaw, up his neck, across his shoulders. He soothes you as he presses deeper, reassurances whispered against your temple.

“I’ve got you, baby. Let me make you feel good.” When he bottoms out, you demand more - somehow, somehow - locking your ankles against the small of his waist. He doesn’t miss the way you clench, so tight around him it almost hurts , when he says those three words once again. “I love you.”

His lips find yours and he brushes them over and over - a salve for the burn he ignites beneath your skin. It doesn’t matter that he’s both the calm and the chaos. Jungkook’s always been everything to you.

The rhythm he sets is unhurried and perfect. Each snap of his hips has his cock dragging against your walls, filling and stretching you so well; everywhere his skin brushes yours, you’re alive. There are a million nerve endings going haywire beneath your skin, flashing bright as holiday lights.

That’s what it’s like - Christmas morning . Picture perfect and filled with wonder.

He’s completely smitten when he draws back just enough to see the entirety of you - your fucked-out expression, the rose-wreath he’s wrought around your neck, the sweat that beads between your tits and tempts him to duck his head. “I love you.” It’s almost hypnotising - watching you take him, pussy dripping and needy around his cock.

“I love you,” you parrot back - or try to. It’s not very coherent, driven to a point of nonsense when his hips begin to stutter and he makes up for the loss of rhythm by slipping his fingers over your clit in circle eights.

You’re at your breaking point. He knows - can read you like the back of his hand - and holds you there, back bowing to kiss you breathless, pressure unrelenting against the bundle of nerves.

“That’s it, princess. Right there.”

The coil snaps at the third pass and there are hot tears streaming down your cheeks, his name spilling off your tongue in tandem with the erratic thudding of your heart. White spots your vision, entire body electrified as you crash headlong into an abyss of bliss. You hear him join you with a hoarse whine, a mix of your cum slipping out of you as he rides out his own high with shallow thrusts, mouth open and panting against your shoulder.

The comedown is hazy, dusted in exhaustion and a thin sheen of sweat. When he slips from you, he doesn’t go far, tugging you comfortably against his side like you’re not both a little gross. It’s not the first time you’ve fucked but it feels different.

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you, Bunny.”

You realise - it feels exactly like that. Making love.

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