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purelyfiction · 4 months

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Barely Even Over. - Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x F!Reader

Word Count: I don’t know, I’ll update this when I’m off mobile

Summary: You’ve never been good with complacency. You’ve nearly broken it off four times with Bradley before, feeling trapped and needing to run. You don’t know why it happens, or why you feel so compelled to escape. This time, you can’t get past it. What had always been passing conversation has been a full production. You’re nearly to the curtain close when the entire thing is derailed by a very agitated pilot on your front porch.

Content Warning: lots of cursing, lots of angst, potential trigger for anxiety

Author’s Note: I’ve been obsessed with this song by Drake Milligan and I couldn’t get this out of my brain. Also!! Rooster content? In 2024? Wow. - unedited, unbeta’ed we die like idiots.

God, you couldn’t wait to get the hell out of here. The fact that it was almost eleven o’clock at night and someone was pounding at your door was one of the countless reasons you’d put in a transfer request.

The main reason you were leaving stood on the other side of your open door.

Bradley stands, dripping wet from the monsoon that’s raging outside (you’d heard it from the wind and the pelting rain on your window), the most vicious look on his face. You spot the equally soggy piece of paper you’d shoved in his mailbox this morning in his hand.

“You really thought you could just drop this off and bolt out of town without a word?” He shakes the wet mangled letter around, a drop of water flinging to the tip of your nose. When he starts into it, you’re pushing the door shut, regretting not checking the peephole before you tugged the door open. Rooster’s hand grabs the edge of the wood before you can get too far, pushing his body weight into it to keep it ajar.

“Or that I had to hear from Hangman of all people that he saw a moving truck taking your shit?” You turn and enter into the empty apartment, trying to avoid this conversation. That was the point of the letter, the point of no contact the last few hours. You were about five hours from departing San Jose and never coming back. Bradley slams the door shut as he follows you inside.

“Jesus, wake all the neighbors while you’re at it Bradshaw.” You groan, stepping into your bathroom to do a mindless check that everything had been packed. That you weren’t forgetting anything.

“Fuck the neighbors, Gemstone! You were going to just fucking ghost me? Ditch me without a goddamn word?” You can hear the pain singe his voice. A normally smooth and entertained gruff is resentful and burned instead when he speaks to you. He follows you as you move to the kitchen to do one last once over, averting this onslaught as much as you could. “Drop a shitty letter in my mailbox to dump my ass, ignore my texts, decline my calls - not a single word from you! What the fuck??”

“I’m being restationed, Rooster, it’s not-“

“Oh bullshit!! Mav told me the truth! You fucking requested the transfer! You thought you could sneak away without witnessing the storm you’re fucking making! Just dropping all your ties and escaping -“ he huffs and the paper in his hand is crumbled into a wet lump, then slammed at a nearby wall. So much for your security deposit. “You are always looking for an out. For a reason to leave California- the navy- me. As if the last three years were so fuckin’ miserable that you needed to just vanish. Like nothing ever happened.” Bradley is seething with each curse and vent that exists his lungs.

You’ve run out of cabinets to check. Out of options to avoid looking at him. So when you finally do, you see the mustached man shaking slightly from the temperature of the cold water clinging to him via a damp Hawaiian shirt. The way his eyes locked to you with seething hurt, a brokenness you couldn’t comprehend.

He wasn’t supposed to get home from his training in Atlanta until tomorrow. You were supposed to disappear. Jake and his big fucking mouth. Before you can say anything, Bradley turns to face you fully, brows pushing downward as if it would expel the anger out.

“Three years. Fucking three years and you think you can step out like this. Without a word, without giving a rhyme or a reason - leaving in the middle of the night - without a clue you were even considering this?? Buying fucking plane tickets behind my back?? Packing your entire god damn life up without a notion of the feelings of people around you - of your fucking boyfriend? You didn’t think to have the decency to break up with me to my face??” His hand points to the slop against the wall that had been your letter. His notice of termination so to speak. “The fact you couldn’t say it out loud- couldn’t face any of this at the face value means you don’t actually want to do it. You don’t want to do it, you’re just scared. You’re scared of the same surroundings, the same job, the same city, the same house, the same person, Gem. That’s what you are. Always leaving so you don’t get hurt when you get freaked out.” The register of his words is loud, but not nearly as loud as the next round of spitfire.

“If we’re gonna break up you’re gonna do it now! You’re gonna say what you put on that god damn piece of paper to my fucking face! That you never loved me, that you’ve been hanging on to a lie! That you can’t stand to stay in this god forsaken city a single second more! You don’t get to just leave and not see this!!” He points to his expression. “The mad! The angry, the rejection and betrayal! If you’re gonna do it you’re gonna do it to my face!” Finally, finally, Bradley takes a shaking breath, turning away to try to collect himself.

“Bradley, I didn’t want to do this like this for a reason-“ he spins. There are tears rolling down his face.

“Fuck, I love you.” The stinging sensation starts. The familiarly ominous feeling that sinks in and starts to eat at you every time you’ve had this conversation. “You loved me. I know you did. At some point you did, I know you did and you can’t lie to me and say you didn’t.” The hot tears are barely breaking surface tension along your lash line. “Don’t leave me like this, Gems. Don’t- cause I won’t-“ he hovers in his words, “I think I deserve at least a bad goodbye. Not some letter full of lies hit you don’t mean. Some pathetic attempt at closure is better than whatever the fuck this is. This, this, sorry excuse for a break up.” His feet come sinking toward you as he reaches out. You don’t back away.

His hand takes your hand, squeezing it tightly, his other hand coming to wipe your own tears in the hollow room. “I can take hellfire. I can take screaming, shouting, shit, you can hate me if you have to, honey.” It’s so fractured, his voice. Strained from shouting, tainted with emotions he clearly hasn’t come to understand yet, “just… don’t leave me like this. Still so in love with you. Still wanting to see your face when I wake up every day, to curl into you and avoid the world a little longer- still wanting to fix that damn car with you,” you stifle a laugh, despite the gravity of everything, “still completely and utterly adoring you. Don’t leave me loving you. Please, Gems, don’t.”

The two of you grow quiet, Rooster’s hand still clutching to yours, his hand cupping the back of your neck. He pulls you in, lips pressing to your forehead. He stays there as a soft cry that moves through his chest, tears dampening your hair as the two of you stand there in the cruelty of your wake.

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dairy-farmer · 5 months

Note

Am on a reversal of my other prompts kick~ :3c

Imagine~~

The Time Loop Prompt! A perfectly average, nothing happening, boring 24 hours. BUT THIS TIME?? It's NOT Tim who gets trapped! It's our dear Bat Boys!

Tim is still patrolling, been distant. Considering going back to The Nest. This upsets Bruce but he doesn't want to push and drive Tim away. Aggravates Damian, who is supposed to be putting away the Suspect Unknown Magical Object.

The more he listens to Drake make excuses, the more annoyed he gets. He gets careless. Too rough. Jason arrives, planning to look something up, but notices and corrects him. It's the final straw. He slams the idol down.

It shatters.

Magic sweeps the cave. Oh Shit.

Tim HEARD that. Respond. Respond! He's coming over! Tim IMMEDIATELY changes his plans. Awkwardness be damned, they just got exposed to Unknown Magics. He arrives. The Bats manage to peel themselves off the floor. Run through their standard "are we compromised" tests. So far? Nothing.

But Tim is gonna stay the night, just to safe. A 24 hour watch.

The next day is quiet. Maybe it really was nothing? Or it hasn't hit yet, knowing their luck. Could have just been the showy bang itself. Still... it's nice to actually have Tim AROUND for once. They wish they knew how to say that without starting a fight. They watch him head out around midnight. They hate it.

The NEXT day though? Oh. So THAT'S what it did. Timeloop. Well that's annoying. Except... except Tim's expression says he has no idea what they are talking about. But he was THERE, was he? They compare notes. And...

No. No, he wasn't. He HEARD the idol breaking, but wasn't actually THERE for it. He's outside of the Loop. So he'll have to take their word on it. Now, what are their options? Magic users, right?

They spend the day trying to figure out who they need to talk too. Then the next. Then the NEXT. Gods damn it they hate magic so, SO much. But! Constantine SHOULD be able to brute force them out? They are told this sort of situation is "his thing". Fine. So where is he?

Yeeeeah, about that.....

Bruce closes the link before he says something he will probably not regret, but would be DEEPLY unprofessional. Apparently they are on their own finding Constantine. Last known location: "probably Earth".

Fantastic.

It takes the rest of that loop to put together a functional program. One that will search for the House of Mysteries in a grid pattern, spanning the entirety of the planet. They cut it close, but manage to memorize it.

Next loop, start the program. Which... takes ALL of the Bat computer's processing power to run.. meaning they can't work on any cases. Now what?

They disperse. Try to find something to do. Read that book, finally play that game, maybe work on that art project. But... what's the POINT if all their progress gets undone? They try new foods, take naps, check out places they've put off going too.

The program has barely made a dent. The entire planet is not a SMALL place to search after all.

It's Dick who gets lonely first. Gets ideas. He'll swear of course, he didn't. It just... his friends are busy. Thanks to the loop? They'll STAY busy. Forever. He wants to hang out. Misses his Timmy Time. Things aren't great between them. But he is trying to be better.

And for Tim? It's a Rule. If someone stuck in a Timeloop wants to hang out, you hang out. Because YOU may have spoken to them yesterday, but for them? They could have been trapped alone for years. So he sighs and let's Dick drag him along.

Dick is THRILLED. Tim is having fun. HE'S having fun.

He genuinely can't remember when last it was just the two of them. Hanging out. Does Tim even skateboard anymore? Still WANT to see that photo exhibit? Yeah, Tim is having fun. But Dick gets the vibe he's humoring him. That... that he doesn't even KNOW him anymore.

So next loop he tries again.

It's not like Tim remembers their last hang out. He can keep trying! Movies and events and outings. Has he ever taken Timmy dancing, he wonders? Let's hit the clubs! Everything and anything! See what gets a spark of interest.

And... listen, maybe the clubbing was a mistake. Yes, Timmy is old enough. Yes, he had fun. But so did Dick. They got dressed up Super Hot. They got tipsy. Dick made sure to watch over Tim while he was their, made sure no one harassed him or put anything in his drink. Let him have fun in the loud music and strobing lights.

And... and... Realized Timmy... Timmers Tim Tim... grew up Hot. Watched him move. Laugh. Be gorgeous and relaxed in a way he rarely gets to be, surrounded by people who WANT him but who could NEVER know him like Dick does.

He... he should not be having these thoughts. Not about his baby brother. It's a distant thought. Weak in the face of things sliding into place at long last. Finally a name to apply to the complicated MESS that sat between them. One that seemed to come from HIM and not Tim. Oh.

His hands linger more then they should, helping his tipsy brother home. He dumps them both in his bed. Legs tangled, clothes on. Just to soak up the warmth of Timmy's body and press close, close, CLOSE. To let mad thought and insane plans rumble to life in his head. He shouldn't. He has to shut these thoughts down NOW while he still has a chance.

Tim is so warm. A bit giggly and boneless from the elaborate cocktails he wanted to try. Cologne all but washed off by sweat and stinking of the club. But... but cuddling him BACK for the first time in as long as he can remember, outside of an Ivy breakout. He wants and wants and wants. What if he could KEEP this?

It's so warm.

And waking up is so cold. No Tim. Just a reset timeloop and empty bed. Tim remembers nothing. But Dick does. Things have shifted. Lets go clubbing, Timmy! Why PAY for their cocktails when I can make better ones! It's called pre-gaming!

Soon they are tipsy, it's barely mid-day. But Tim is gorgeous and laughing. But, WHOOPS! Dick spilled his drink on your pants! Thank god we're still at home, huh? You can still change. BTW, unrelated, past boyfriends? Wanna rant?

He distracts Tim, pants off, with a rant. Nudges the conversation where he wants it. Dick's not nearly as drunk as he's pretending. But Tipsy Tim? Has GRIEVANCES! Don't get him wrong! He LOVES trying new positions! Practicing his BJs! So sue him, he's a perfectionist! But does that mean he never wants a little reciprocal action? No!

He, in fact, very much DOES want to get eaten out! Constantly! And other things! CONSTANTLY! He's horny and stressed okay? They lead stressful lives! But GOD FORBID men who will dive head first into radioactive goo monsters, put their Precious Wittle Mouths anywhere near his-!

Dick takes his chance. HE would never do that. You deserve BETTER. Have all those cases on the Bat computer, all that work at WE. He crowds forward, not looming, on his knees. Hands resting on Tim's hips. Not doing anything. Just so very, very Close.

Tim deserves to relax... doesn't he?

And Tim is torn. This does not seem like normal Dick behavior, but? Timeloop? Booze? And does he WANT this? Dick IS his childhood hero. He's had dreams about stuff like this. Should say no though. But then Dick leans forward, rests his flushed cheek against the soft skin of Tim's stomach. Rubs, just to feel them glide against each other.

Tim shudders. Y.. yeah. He deserves to relax. He mutters.

Like blood in the water before a shark. Tim squeaks he's lifted and moved so fast. He's being pressed down to the end of Dick's bed. He barely has time to register his boyshorts disappearing before his legs are lifted and spread. Then skilled, wet, heat is PLUNDERING him and he's jerking so hard you'd think he was tazered. Hands scrambling along Dick's sheets for any sort of purchase.

Gasping for air, whimpering, he can't for enough coherent thought to tell Dick to just-! Oh god! S-slow down! He spasms apart and then? Oh god. Clever, clever fingers. Sliding deep and rubbing just-! Dick is VERY good with his mouth. Tim come apart again and again, until he's desperately grabbing for Dicks head, slurring weakly for it to stop. For Dick to let him REST.

It's so god damn PERFECT. Dick has never seen anything better. Flushed and boneless and taken car off so good. He gently hauls him up the bed. Gets his Timmy all warm and snuggly. Then slides slick and perfect into his pampered little hole. Wraps him up close for a cuddle. Just the two of them, as he fucks. So, so good~

It's more of a rut then anything, honestly. But holding him? Feeling the gushing wet hole flutter around him as he rocks and rocks, just chasing his pleasure? Tim is so GOOD for him. A twitching, drooling, exhausted mess wrapped up in a safe little bundle, here in his arms. He slides as deep as he can, when he cums. Keeps Tim close and full.

Fails to notice, near midnight, when someone comes looking for him.

Tim may not remember, but Damian sure does. And he is NOT best pleased. Have you LOST YOUR MIND?! He may not li.. may have.. there may be strained relations between him and Drake, but that does not mean he will allow these PERVERSIONS!

Tim is baffled and wary. The Demon Child is sticking to him like glue. Dick keeps trying to subtlety separate them but what say WHY. As the day progresses, it escalates.

The NEXT Same Day? Tim is out right ALARMED. Dick tries to kidnap him for "bro time"? Did the magic idol turn him evil?! Shit! KON! He spends the day at the Kent farm.

Next loop? Wakes up in a safe house. One of Bruce's? WHY? Oh fuck. Damian's kidnapped him. Wait.... are... are these Bruce's KINK restraints?! Damian What The FUCK?!

And... look. Damian's at the end of his rope here. Richard is NOT giving up. Has years more experience and a plethora of allies. Drake doesn't even realize he's IN peril! No! Shut up!

He gags Tim. Begins explaining. Looks unhinged. Pacing back and forth. First the time loop, which is his fault. He KNEW better then to let his temper get the better of him! Has been working tirelessly to-! It doesn't matter. First the timeloop. His fault. Then Richard acting suspicious. Nothing out of place though? Until it WAS!

Liquor supplies raided! Held up in his room all day! Damian was suspicious!

The BASTARD! Forever going on about Family this and Family that! Blood relations don't mean anything! Still FAMILY!! He just wanted-!

Damian freezes, mid rant. Things connecting in his mind. Tim doesn't know WHAT and is too busy trying to get free of his cuffs to care. But then Damian spins to look at him. Eyes intense in a way that is VERY AL Ghul and thus VERY concerning.

Damian figured it out. Richard wanted Tim for himself. Of course he did. Tim is the favorite apprentice. Richard lied to Damian so Damian wouldn't be compition. He KNEW Damian desired Timothy and was doing everything he could to discourage it! Because Damian is the rightful heir. He has more to offer. Is a dangerous rival to have. He figure it out!

Tim has no idea what's happening and Damian may have finally gone insane.

Why is he coming closer? No! No coming closer! Go be insane somewhere ELSE! But Damian does not. He's not just Wayne stubborn. He's AL Ghul stubborn. He can TOTALLY seduce his freaked out, tied up, brother-rival!

Tim tries to kick him in the face.

Works for him. He's done research, he knows Dick's modis operandi. It apparently WORKS so... Holding the legs that tried to kick him, he inches forward. To tug sleep shorts out of the way until they are trapped near bound knees.

If Tim could remember it, could compare them, he'd tell you Damian is rougher then Dick. Demanding and exploring, tounge hot as it goes where it pleases. That he was far more merciless, in his inexperience, as that demanding mouth sucks and licks and toys with his clit. He chokes on air. Jerks and thrashes against the restraints binding him.

He's barely aware of Damian reaching for something, of some sort of noises, as he tries to escape the onslaught. But then there are demanding fingers. Slick and clumsy. Exploring, pushing deep as they can, more STUFFING him then fucking him. Full. Too much!

Something else replaces them. Over lubed. It SQUELCHS going in. Whats?

If nothing else, Damian has an EXCELLENT eye for sex toys. Tim all but HOWLS when he flips the vibrator on. Unthinkingly cranking it high, with little thought for Tim's sensitive hole. The orgasm is DRAGGED out of him. He.. he doesn't think Damian can even TELL he came. He's to distracted by eating him out.

Oh god. Tim's gonna die.

The vibrator keeps going.

By the time the loop resets, Damian has used several "interesting" toys he's tried. And fucked Tim's poor, throbbing hole full. Tim is losing time. His shoulders are screaming from the restraints and he's passed at least twice. Damian has... has never been softer with him.

Whispering praise and kissing every bit of skin he can reach. Cuddling close. Touching him reverently. Tim doesn't know how to feel. Doesn't... Doesn't understand.

He wakes up and doesn't remember.

Jason, however, catches both Dickface and the Hellion trying to kidnap his Replacement. Has some Opinions about that. He'd THOUGHT things were too quite.

There goes his reading day. And he'd been making such good progress on his books. This is some BULLSHIT. Meh, Timbers can sleep on the couch. Back to his regancy novel. Except of course his life could never be that easy. The fuckers team up. Lie their asses off to some Kryptonians. And he KNOWS that Kon-El has been just WAITING for an excuse, so DICK MOVE you FUCKERS! Oh shit!

Now they are in a lead lined bunker. No quality literature in sight. Timbits is convinced the idol turned everyone but him evil and you know what? Yeah. Yeah that's EXACTLY what happened. We should kick them in the dicks about it. It's the only heroic thing to do, really.

But then the fuckers FIND his lead bunker. HOW.

And the squirrly little shit he's trying to protect goes "don't worry, I got a place". Next thing he knows? Bam. Just... just a fuckin WALL of pictures of baby him. Timbers had a secret, Kryptonian-proof, stalker bunker? Oh. My. God. This is the creepiest, hottest, most pathetic thing he's ever seen.

Is that one of those WAIFU PILLOWS? Oh my God it IS! It's HIM! Booty shorts and all! Bruce shut that shit DOWN. They only ever managed to sell 15!

Tim regrets everything. Please. Just... for the love of all that is holy. Evil family members? Remember? Ignore my Secret Shame Bunker.

Jason will not. Don't think he didn't see the Red Hood merch. Supporting crime alley merchants are we? Cause they are the ONLY ones who sell those. The rest you had to have MADE. You're a creepy little fanboy. Holy shit. How did he FORGET that?

......Jason kinda needs to bend you over that creepy waifu pillow on those Red Hood sheets and fuck your brains out. Get over here. Now.

Tim would... LIKE to say as both a collector and self respecting vigilante, he doesn't desecrate his collection and get wildly distracted. But. Well. He would be a lying liar who lies. He's face down, ass in the air in SECONDS. Jason pounds him like he's trying to permanently bruise his hips. Makes him admit to all sorts of things he SWORE he'd take to the grave. Then flips him on his back, bends him in half, and goes AGAIN.

Somehow he finds Tim's old self-interest fanfiction. Drags Tim's head down to blow him as he reads it out loud. There are literary critiques. Tim's too distracted by the cock in his mouth to care.

Dawn comes. Tim does not remember. Jason wages war against the two fuckos who would prevent take two of "The Secret Fuck Bunker: An Epic Romance." He is INVESTED.

Bruce... finally acknowledges he can't keep ignoring whatever nonsense his sons are getting up too. It's loud and getting in the way of, you know, BREAKING THE TIME LOOP. You remember that, RIGHT children of his? He banishes them from the house. Well, Alfred does. He nods and agrees to it.

Tim is concerned but understanding. Bruce explains what progress they've made. They... they talk. Tim is supportive. He always has been, even when Bruce did not deserve it. Bruce.. admits the loop could not have come at a worse time.

The anniversary of- When he was lost in time? Tim finishes.

Yes. Being unmoored. Lost, trapped, and helpless before a force you can't so much as touch. Bruce has never liked timeloops. They are made to drive men mad.

Hesitantly, Tim climbs into his lap. Heavy and warm. Alive. Here. Arms wrap around Bruce in a hug and he just? Let's himself... breathe. Holds his boy back. Anchored and okay, if only for now. The hum of the computer, the chattering of bats, the smell of Tim's cologne. It's meditative.

Hands, running soothing fingers through his hair, gripping his sweater. A head resting against his own, Tim's lips ghosting against his forehead. Nearly a kiss, mostly just closeness. It's... it's the stillness that does it. Let's the thought he refused to think, finally slink forward. It's just them here.

And only he will remember.

But... He is an old and broken man. Has insisted on playing Father figure for so long, for all he did it so poorly. What right does he have to think this, much less ACT on it? To complicate Tim's life. Try to be something he's not even sure he can manage? What right does he have?

And why? He wonders, rubbing his exhausted cheek against the softness of Tim's shirt. Is he so very weak, so selfish, when it comes to love?

Tim's fingers pause... and then continue.

They have always been a lot alike. This may have been inevitable. But a day spent camping in his chair is not. It's terrible for his back. And for all that the loop may reset physical exhaustion, they clearly do nothing for mental exhaustion. The program will run just fine on its own, Bruce. Too bed with you.

For the first time in years, that old Batman Mischief. Oh? And who will keep him there? Hmm? You? Better supervise him. Make sure he stays. Tim's laugh fills the cave. Guess he has no choice then, does he?

Shukking clothes, Bruce feels decades younger. Back when the world wasn't so heavy on his shoulders. Just two young men, a soft bed, in the dark. He kisses Tim breathless as he works him open. Finds sensitive spots on his neck as he wrings and orgasm out of his boy, just to get him relaxed. Plenty of lube and stretching, and he's sinking in. Slow and relentless.

Tim gasping, shaking, gripping his arms like a lifeline. Tim feel like he's being impaled on a log. If he didn't love Bruce he'd have called it off the second his pants were off. He's never sitting again. Never WALKING again. It's not even rubbing against anything, just pressure. But... but Bruce is looking at him with such AWE and in such PLEASURE and he.. he cant.....

Bruce starts slow and relentless. Just getting Tim's body to let him GO. To stop clenching and relax. Little by little. Then faster. Harder. It feels ruinous. No ones ever going to be able to stuff Tim like this. He can't even tell if he LIKES it. So much. Full. Stretched and sloppy and all his inside pumped to pieces.

Should be crude. Violent. He's being RUINED. But Bruce is so loving. Holding him and praising him and kissing him. Gasping like it's the best he's ever had. That's cheating. How us Tim supposed to be mad if he does that? And then Bruce cums in him and he can't even... even...

Bruce loses count, how many rounds they go. Tim is absolutely fuck drunk and gapping, his poor little hole drooling and twitching around nothing. He should have held back. Next time he'll hold back.

Probably.

He pulls his sweet boy close and just... let's himself exsist. Holds him. Everything is warm and good. He drifts off.

And wakes up alone. Start of the loop.

Bruce breaks some things.

He also puts two and two together, as he stalks his was to go fetch Tim. The odd behavior of his sons makes a.. sudden sort of sense. Family Room. Now. Let Tim sleep.

No one wants to admit to anything. Them? Take advantage on the timeloop? They would never! Take advantage of Tim's lack of MEMORY of the loops? They would NEVER! In fact! What were YOU doing at the devils sacrament, goodie Procter?!

Accusations are thrown.

Bruce asks if they're done.

Because this can go one of two ways. They leave Tim alone until after the loops after finished. OR? They share.

What.

Tim can't make an informed decision with less then 24hours of information to go off of. We may remember our time bonding with him. But HE does not. We share, he decides. What, if anything, he'll do AFTER the loop ends. No fighting or No Tim.

Argue and I'll have Clark remove Tim from the house each day, every day, at midnight. Full 24 hours. Try me.

Tim wakes up to a VERY weird energy in the studio today. The vibes are Off. You guys... good? They explain the Timeloop. He chooses to believe it's that.

Right up until Jason pulls him into a guest bedroom and fucks him on the floor.

It takes a lot of days Tim doesn't remember, for the program to Find Constantine. He gets fucked in his bed, his brothers bed, the batcave. There are threesomes he doesn't remember. Face fucking. Machines. Each morning, the SAME morning, his family greet him with a stranger and stranger energy he can't quite place. He's missing something.

They find Constantine right before a loop resets. Tim is asleep when they head out to Argentina. He goes from dead asleep to WIDE FUCKING AWAKE.

TIM. REMEMBERS.

Oh, you BASTARDS. Not even a DRINK first? What is he, a cheap date?? Just a "hey gorgeous" and a hand down his pants!?!? He's killing them! Alfred! ALFRED! Where's the shotgun!?

Those fuckers better GROVEL. No dates, no ROMANCE, just fucking him against the nearest flat surface. In FACT! KON! Kon get your Midwest ass over here! You're my dad now!

The Bats hear Boss Music and are rightfully afraid to answer their phones. It won't save them. Tim is MIFFED and owed ROMANCE and ROMANTIC fuckings. Where the hell are his flowers? His fancy restaurants reservations? His ALIEN TECHNOLOGY!?

He's moving in with the KENT'S! No pussy for you! No pussy 1000 years!

😭😭😭😭 tim getting so MAD at the bats for not romancing him and just fucking him instead- repeatedly to. they used him like an open cunt at a glory hole!!! he would absolutely be livid and as for the bats, tim is angry but at least he's still talking with them even if it is to yell and insult them 😭😭😭

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

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rubydubydoo122 · 6 months

Text

Batfam Band Au

Jason Todd and Tim Drake are so Conan Gray coded. Proof? here,

Maniac - Jason: 'People like you always want back what they can't have, but I'm past that and you know that so you should turn back to your rat(bat) pack tell 'em I'm trash' Jason to Bruce after Bruce victim blamed his death Tim: 'Tell all of your friends that I'm crazy, and drive you mad, that I'm such a stalker, a watcher, a psycopath' Tim's speaks for itself, but like... probably Tim to everyone

Fight or Flight - Jason: 'something's gotten into you, you don't really look at me the way you used to' Him to Bruce. no explanation needed, 'Every single rumor that I've heard of you say, you were out with someone that I don't know' Jason when he saw the pictures of Tim as Robin 'fight or flight, I'd rather die than have to cry in front of you. fight or flight, id rather lie than tell you I'm in love with you' him with bruce. Him With Bruce. HIM WITH BRUCE. Like god, he's just a scared kid that wants his dad, but he'll never admit that, 'Now there's someone at my door, someone i've not met before, they've got, eyes like mine, a pretty smile and they've been crying for a while, cus they also didn't know' Jason with Tim after Damian became Robin (or a while after that ig, whenever they started to get along)

The Cut that Always Bleeds - Tim: 'Oh I, can't, be, your lover on a leash, every other week, when you need, oh I can't be, the kiss that you don't need, the lie between your teeth, the cut that always bleeds' Tim realizing that maybe being Bruce's emotional support child is no bueno for his mental heath. 'Say you love somebody new and beat my heart to black and blue, and they leave and it's me you come back to' Because Tim became Robin to essentially be Bruce's crutch until he could get back on his feet after Jason's death, and the problem with that is Bruce will never really get back on his feet because he's still limping from his parents death, 'But even though you're killing me, I need you like the air I breathe, I need, I need you more than me, I need you more than anything, please, please.' and that's kinda the case for all the Robins. Bruce pushes them so hard, almost to the point of breaking, and when they want to break away, Bruce gives them a sliver of validation creating a never ending cycle of them craving Bruce's approval.

Astronomy - Jason: 'cus socially speaking, we were the same, with runaway fathers and mothers who drank' Jason to Steph probably 'From far away, i wish i'd stayed with you. but here face to face a stranger that I once knew. I thought if I wandered, I'd fall back in love, you said distance brings fondness, but guess not with us' Jason to Bruce during UTRH, because Jason's death changed both of them so much, to the point where they can't recognize each other anymore . And maybe Bruce missed Jason while he was dead, but now that he's alive...'Stop trying to keep us alive, you're pointing at stars in the sky, that've already died, stop trying to keep us alive, you can't force the stars to align, when they've already died' Him to himself about continuing to forgive Bruce and running back to Bruce time and time again after all the shit Bruce has pulled

Footnote - Tim: 'I say if I waited, could that maybe help, you told me that patience won't change how you felt, for me' Tim to Bruce, knowing that he'll never be Jason, yet still yearning for that father/son dynamic (sh sh, Ik Tim doesn't actually see Bruce as his dad, but lets shift slightly into fanon) 'So I'll just take a footnote, in your life, and you can take my body, every line, I would right for you, but a footnote will do' Tim's entire Red Robin run, mainly to Dick, who is a little too busy trying to balance grieving and a feral child 'You taught me a lesson, that feelings are reckless, it's just like the novels, side characters end up alone.' Tim after loosing almost everyone he cared about within a year and turning cold and distant.

Winner - Literally this whole song is for the both of them and their parental issues Tim: 'Packed my bags at 14, I hadn't planned on leaving, but you haven't been back home for days' Like... we all do agree that Tim's parents were neglectful. They were literally never around. 'You don't really wanna hear the truth, do you? it's obvious to anyone who ever knew you. that all you ever want is to be right, even if that means you gotta lie to do it,' This is probably more fannon, but like Janet and Jack Drake Jason: 'Bask inside your victory, my heart that once was beating, bleeding in the palm of your hand' Under the Red Hood. batarang to the throat, 'Yet you have the nerve to miss me, how do I somehow feel guilty? when you're the one who let it get this bad' JASON TO BRUCE LIKE, TELL ME I"M WRONG. Bruce will claim to miss Jason, but then blame him for his own death in the same breath. "You don't really wanna hear the truth, do you? it's obvious to anyone who ever knew you. that all you ever wanted was to FIGHT. I WAS ONLY TRYING TO SURVIVE YOUR CHAOS!! WELL LOOK AT HOW IT"S PAID OFF' Jason got caught up in Bruce's "war on crime" AND HE DIED. HE DIED FOR IT. HE DIDN"T SURVIVE BRUCE"S CHAOS, HE"S STIL STUCK IN IT AND HE CAN"T GET OUT.

Family Line - THIS ONE!!! THIS ONE!!! I LITERALLY CRY EVERY TIME I HEAR IT BECAUSE IT FITS THE BOTH OF THEM TOO WELL Jason: 'My father never talked a lot, He just took a walk around the block, 'Til all his anger took a hold of him, and then he'd hit. My mother never cried a lot, She took the punches, but she never fought' Willis and Catherine. 'Scattered 'cross my family lineI'm so good at telling lies, That came from my mother father's side, Told a million to survive,' Father meaning Bruce. Lies meaning Robin and secret identies and stuff 'Scattered 'cross my family line, God, I have my father's mother's eyes,' Sheila's 'But my sister's when I cry, I can run, but I can't hide, From my family line' Do I have to explain this? Tim: 'It's hard to put it into words, How the holidays will always hurt, I watch the fathers with their little girls, And wonder what I did to deserve this, How could you hurt a little kid? I can't forget, I can't forgive you, 'Cause now I'm scared that everyone I love will leave me' I can just imagine little baby Timmy following Batman and Robin, and then casting a glance at a family lighting a minorah, while he knows his family's minorah is sitting in the closet because his parents still haven't come home from their trip. Jason: 'Oh, all that I did to try to undo it,' All the crimes he did to survive, made him try so hard as Robin to undo that, 'All of my pain and all your excuses, I was a kid but I wasn't clueless' Maybe it's how he feels about Sheila now that he's grown. Jason was alone on the streets before Bruce. He even empathized with Sheila, and tried to help her. Jason was optimistic, not naive. Tim: 'Someone who loves you wouldn't do this' Jason: "All of my past, I tried to erase it,' His time on the streets, his time as Robin, Sheila's betrayal, The LOA, his villain era, 'But now I see, would I even change it?' Because all of those things shaped who he is now 'Might share a face and share a last name, but We are not the same' He would've never done what Sheila did, he would never do what Bruce did, or Talia, or Wilis or any of the other adults in his life who have let him down.

Anywho, yeah, Conan Gray writing music for Jason and Tim is on my mind a lot.

#jason todd #tim drake #bruce wayne #dick grayson #conan gray #sheila haywood #willis todd #catherine todd #jack drake #janet drake #AUUGHGHHG #JUST IT'S THEM

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angelasscribbles · 2 years

Text

Savage Love Chapter 22: Condottiere

Series: Savage Love

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Liam, Riley x Drake

Rating: NSFW (ish)

Warnings: hint of lemons

Word Count: 3,043

My other stuff: Master List.

Drake knew I was lying about my freak out in the shower earlier, but he let it drop. Thankfully. I honestly didn’t know if I could lie to him if he continued to push.

I knew I should slow things down again, push him away, maybe put an end to the whole thing. As I combed through my wet hair, I resolved to do just that; but by the time we were eating breakfast, I found myself wiping crumbs from his face, my thumb lingering on his lips. I’m not sure I had ever wiped crumbs off someone’s face before. I just wanted to touch him all the time.

I went back into the bedroom to slip on a pair of shoes as Drake waited by the front door. My eyes fell on the bed as I pulled a pair of Louboutin pumps on my feet. Liam’s bed. Memories of the night before fell through my head as I finished getting ready.

Liam’s body, hard and toned, behind me in the tub, soap suds sliding down his chest, his arms encircling me. His smile when I turned to kiss him, the way he stiffened when our lips met, embarrassed at how quickly he’d been aroused.

Liam lifting me out of the water. The way his lips never left mine as he carried me to the bed.

Liam on top of me, sweat beading his skin as his muscles coiled and tensed under my hands.

The way he’d pulled me close and held me tight. How right it felt in his arms.

“You get lost in there, Brooks?” Drake’s voice jerked me back to the present.

“Coming!” I hurried out the room, flustered.

We made it to the conference room on time, barely. Leo was flipping through paperwork. Jason and Max had their heads together about something and Jared was back from the hospital, he sat in one chair, his injured leg was propped up on another. Liam was seated at the conference table across from Leo, next to the chair I usually sat in. There was no way that wasn’t on purpose. I wanted to be annoyed with him for it, but I wasn’t.

I sat down in my usual spot; Drake took the seat on my other side. Nope, not awkward at all.

“So, I think we know how Rico was able to get Tariq to do his dirty work.” Jason said.

I glanced at Leo, who told me, “Drake updated me last night and I got these two on it right away.”

“Ok.” I turned back to Jason, “How?”

“Gambling debts!” Max answered triumphantly. “His finances are a hot mess. He has gambled away most of his family’s fortune.”

That made perfect sense. You don’t turn down a loan shark when they give you an assignment. This could be a huge break, pointing us to who Rico was working with, “Who does he owe?”

“Lorenzo Romano.” Jason answered.

“Who is that?” I asked.

“Well, he’s a loan shark, obviously. But I started digging around in his finances and he is definitely linked to the Gladius Company, a band of mercenaries used by a lot of mafioso’s as enforcers.”

“Ok, do we know who runs that?” I was trying to find a connection between Lorenzo and Rico.

“It’s a fairly new operation, but we are fairly certain it’s being run by a man named Saguaro Laurent.”

“Shit!” Jared’s exclamation drew everyone’s attention.

“You know the name?” Drake asked.

“I know the name. He was second in command to the Condottiere.”

“The Condottiere?” Leo raised his eyebrows questioningly.

I explained, “A mercenary operation pretty much like the Gladius Company. The GIA took them down about six years ago. The leader is serving eight consecutive life sentences, but his lieutenant got away.”

“Looks like we found him.” Jared said.

“How familiar are you with this guy?” Drake asked.

“Not much.” I replied, “I didn’t work that case.”

“Really?” He sounded surprised, “You sure seem to know a lot about it.”

“There’s a reason for that.” Jared snorted.

I shot him a death glare, “Shut the fuck up, Lewis.”

He shrugged, “Whatever, Brooks, but you know we have to call him in.”

“Call who in?” Drake’s gaze shifted back and forth between us, looking for answers.

“I am out of commission, physically speaking, so I can’t go undercover with the staff at the Nevrakis estate and I’m worthless in a fight.” Jared told him, “The agency will be sending someone to replace me anyway. I’ll stay on in an advisory capacity, helping out with intel and I’ll still liaison between Brook’s field work and headquarters, but she needs a new partner.”

“Okay…” Drake said carefully.

Jared went on, “Now that we know Laurent is involved, we need an expert on the Condottiere, someone who knows how this man works, someone who spent years tracking him, studying him. The man that took his organization apart the first time. We need Nick Adler.”

“No, we fucking don’t!” I had never wanted to hurt Jared as badly as I did in that moment.

Jared fixed me with a stern look, “I thought you didn’t let your personal bullshit get in the way of business, agent. If you use your professional judgement and not your emotions, you have to admit that he’s exactly who we need.”

If looks could kill, Jared would definitely have exploded into a million pieces right then and there. I held his gaze for a few heated moments before all the fight went out of me. A frustrated whine escaped my lips and I hated myself for it. He was right. Damn it, he was right.

“Fine! Get Barton on the phone and update her. It’s her call.”

“You already know what the call will be.”

“I said fine, get him here.”

“Whoever this Nick guy is, he’s not going to be a problem, is he?” Leo asked.

“No, he won’t. He’s a good agent, one of the best. We just have a…uh…past, but it won’t get in the way of the investigation, I can promise you that.” I avoided eye contact with both Drake and Liam. The last thing I wanted was my past on display for either one of them.

“So, the assumption is that Rico used Saguaro who used Lorenzo to get Tariq to do his bidding. The Mendez cartel used the Condottiere a lot before they were taken down. It’s possible Saguaro stayed in touch with Rico.” Jared shifted the discussion back to business. Thank God, because I could feel the gazes of both Drake and Liam boring into me.

I ignored them and turned to Max, “How’d you find out so much so fast?”

“Orange soda and jellybeans! I can’t work without them. Brain food!” He explained.

“Uh huh.”

“I stayed up all night. I told you, I’m The Kraken, the assassin of cyberspace! I can find out anything about anyone!” Max was bouncing in his seat. He had way too much energy for this early in the morning.

Leo asked, “So where are we on the Via Imperii and is this thing with the cartel guy going to impede that? No offense Riley, but if you’ve been compromised, we need to bring in a new agent.”

“I haven’t. We don’t think Rico knows why I’m here, not yet anyway. We need to find him and take him down before he figures it out and exposes me though. As far as the Via Imperii, I’m having lunch with Neville today. I’ll continue to pump him for information. The next Via meeting is in two weeks. Have we gotten anything from the bugs we planted?”

“Jason’s been monitoring those.” Max said.

“Nothing so far.” Jason answered, “It doesn’t seem like anyone lives there, they just use it for meetings. We haven’t picked up anything since the night you were there.”

“Meanwhile, Drake, Liam and I are still leaving for Auvernall tonight, right?” I was dying to follow up on the secret Rys sibling mystery.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Riley.” Liam said in concern, “Now that we know a madman is out to get you.”

“Actually, getting her out of the country for a few days might be a good idea.” Jared said, and once I again I silently thanked him. I knew my life was a mess when I was thankful to agent Jared Lewis for anything. “We just have to ensure no one knows she’s leaving. She’ll be safer off the grid.”

“I can make that happen.” Drake replied instantly. “Getting her out without anyone knowing won’t be a problem.”

Leo nodded, “You know I’d go with you, but I have too much going on right now and I can’t get away. Plus, the press will notice and question what I’m doing there. They pay less attention to Liam.”

“One last order of business.” Liam said, “Riley can’t stay in that room anymore.”

“But everyone needs to think I am.”

“I’ll keep the room assignments the same on the official books.” Drake spoke up, “You can come and go through the passageways, so you’re seen entering and leaving that room, but I’ll have two guards posted in there twenty-four seven. If there’s another attempt at an abduction, whoever it is will be in for a big surprise.”

“The room next to Drake is empty, use that one. If there’s nothing else, I have a meeting with some delegates from France.” Leo said as he stood and gathered up paperwork. He looked at me before he turned to leave, “Be careful out there, Riley, I’d hate to see anything happen to you.”

“I always am.” I assured him.

Lunch with Neville yielded nothing new, but I did have to sidestep his attempts to set up a more private date. Ew, no.

I was finally able to slip his company without being rude. I was hurrying back toward my room when I heard my name being called.

“Riley!” Hana was coming down the hallway from the other direction.

“I am so happy to see you!” I told her as she stopped to hug me. I was actually happy to see her. I hadn’t had a lot of close female friendships in my life. You don’t really make friends at court so much as frenemies and sycophants.

“Me too! I haven’t seen you around in a few days.”

“I’ve been busy, but do you have some time right now?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“I just….I could really use someone to talk to!”

“Do you want to go up to your room?” She asked.

“Let’s go to yours.” I suggested. There were guardsmen in my room that I wouldn’t be able to explain.

Once we were alone, she turned to me and said, “Ok, spill!”

“You remember the night on the balcony? How both Liam and Drake tried to get me to go back to their rooms with them?”

“Yes….”

“Well, I’ve been sleeping with both of them.”

She sucked in a scandalized breath, “Really?”

“Really.” I laughed. “Don’t look so shocked. It’s not that bad.”

“Aren’t they best friends or something?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t seem to be affecting their friendship.” Which I was grateful for.

“So, they both know about the other?” I hadn’t thought she could look more scandalized than she had a moment ago, but I’d been wrong.

“Of course.” I answered her, “It would be weird otherwise.”

“And it’s not weird now?”

I snorted, “Maybe a little.”

“So, they both know about each other, it’s not affecting their friendship and clearly it’s not deterring either of them from pursuing you. You’re sleeping with both of them and enjoying it, I assume from the fact that you keep doing it. Have I got that all right?”

“That about sums it up, yeah.” I agreed.

“I don’t see the problem.”

“The problem is that they both want a relationship, and I don’t do those!”

“Why not?”

Why indeed? Why was probably on his way here right now. “It’s….complicated.”

“It always is.” She nodded sagely, which made me giggle for some reason.

“I just need to not feel….feelings for either one of them!”

“From where I’m sitting, it looks like you might be feeling feelings for both of them!” Hana said.

“Ugh!” I blurted out in exasperation. “I know! That’s the fucking problem!”

She considered that quietly for a moment. “Maybe you’ve just been spending too much time with them, maybe you should sleep with someone else, see if that gets either, or both, of them out of your system.”

“Yeah….maybe…” I said doubtfully, “But who?” Maxwell Beaumont had given me a look right before we’d gotten in the limo to go to the Via Imperii meeting, but I quickly dismissed that idea. Sleeping with someone else that was involved in the investigation and also friends with both Liam and Drake just didn’t seem like a good idea. Bertrand? Ew, no. Leo wasn’t my type, and he was in love with Liv anyway. Liv. Hmmm. Yes. But she was in love with Leo, so no.

Madeleine. I jolted upright in my seat. Madeleine! I was willing to bet good money that she knew far more about the inner workings of the Via Imperii than Neville did. She was hot as hell and I’m pretty sure I’d caught her checking me out a time or two. A tryst with Madeleine could kill two birds with one stone. Get me the information I needed on the Via Imperii and distance myself a little from Drake and Liam. Prove to myself that I was not falling for either one of them.

Liar! My inner monologue yelled at me, but I ignored it. “Hana, you might be a genius!”

“If you knew me better, you wouldn’t sound so surprised by that.” She quipped and it made me laugh again. “So, who’s it going to be?”

“Maybe no one.” I replied honestly. I hadn’t really had much sexual interest in anyone else lately. Which was unusual. I told myself it was just because I was getting it on a regular basis but that wasn’t the whole truth. “But maybe….Madeleine….”

Hana’s eyes widened in surprise, “Amaranth? Is she gay?”

I shrugged, “One way to find out.”

Hana covered her mouth with a shriek, “Oh my God, Riley! That’s insane! Two of the prince’s top three suitors doing each other?” She fell over on her bed as laughter ripped through her.

I couldn’t help but laugh with her. It felt good to laugh. I should hang out with her more often. “I mean…..whatever. He doesn’t get to hoard all the hot women, right?”

Hana sat up, still laughing, and wiped tears of mirth from her eyes, “Why not? You’re hoarding all the hot men!”

“Shut up! Stop!” I needed to stop laughing, it was making my sides hurt.

My phone dinged and I looked down at it. This was predictable, but still unfortunate.

“Is everything ok?” Hana asked.

“Yes, fine.” I lied, “I have to go, I need to call home, just a minor issue with my mom, nothing serious, but you know how moms can be.”

Hana nodded sympathetically and I felt a little bad for playing on her family trauma, but I needed her to stop asking questions. I liked her. But I couldn’t draw her into a GIA investigation. She was an untrained civilian. She was safer not knowing anything.

I headed back to the conference room, via my old bedroom. I nodded to the guards on my way from the door to the secret panel. Anyone watching me would think I was in my room, not two levels up and on the east side of the palace rather than the west, in conference room.

I burst into the room to find Leo, Jared, Liam and Drake waiting for me. “I told you this was the most probable outcome.”

Tariq Lambros was dead. Washed ashore an hour ago. That was the price of failing the Mendez cartel.

“How?” I demanded.

“Two bullets to the back of the head, execution style.” Drake answered.

“Classic cartel assassination method.” Jared said.

“It’s too bad we didn’t find him first. Now he can’t answer any questions.” Which is precisely why they killed him. “On the upside, we should now be able to bring in the loan shark in for questioning.”

“We’re on it.” Leo said, “You three go onto Auvernall as planned. We’ll handle things here.”

“I can do the questioning.” Jared offered, “But he probably isn’t going to talk.”

He wouldn’t. It would be signing his own death warrant and he knew it. They never talked. But we had to try.

“Thanks, Jared. Have you talked to Barton yet?”

“Yes. Nick should be here by the time you get back from Auvernall.”

“Great.” I said, copious amounts of sarcasm dripping from the word.

“So, are we going to talk about this Nick guy?” Drake asked as he and I and Liam headed back toward their rooms to get ready to leave for Auvernall.

“Nope.” I replied.

“Ok then.” I could hear the frustration in his voice.

I didn’t want to talk about Nick. Not yet. Not while I was still struggling with my feelings for each of them. Dealing with my issues around my ex was too much, too soon, too personal….or maybe exactly what I needed to do to get some closure and resolve said issues.

I’m not clueless. I’m under no delusions about why I bury myself in my work. Yes, I love my job, love the work that I do. I loved it before Nick, but there was no denying that after I used it to distract me from my pain and avoid getting hurt again. Hard to get hurt if you never let yourself care about anyone.

Except that now I had and my past and present were on a collision course with each other.

Without really thinking, or realizing what I was doing, I slipped one hand into Drake’s grasp as we walked and the other into Liam’s. I felt a little squeeze from each of them. Neither drew away.

Maybe I was an idiot for fighting against these feelings. Maybe I should let one of them in. But which one?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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svucarisiaddict · 2 years

Note

“I’m coming closer, and I’m going to put my hand on your shoulder, alright?” With Sonny 😊

Part 9: Evil at home

//I've had this ask FOREVER and I've been working on it even longer. LOL Anyway, it's long. Enjoy.//

Peter glared at Sonny from across the large conference table that was in his office. He knew being here made Sonny uncomfortable which gave him feel a fraction better. “So, the last time you talked to her was when?”

“This morning. She wanted to go shopping. I told her I would go with her but she didn’t wait,” Sonny answered. “And when was the last time you talked to her, huh?”

“Are you two finished?" Nick asked. "I can't believe this is what you're putting your energy into when the person you both love most has been abducted," Nick admonished both men.

"You're right," Peter agreed.

"Of course. Sorry," Sonny apologized. "So, between the two of us we have a lot of enemies," Sonny concluded. “Could someone have done this for ransom?”

“I think we would have heard by now if that was the case,” Declan offered.

"Any mutual enemies, business partners, anything tying the families together?" Brian asked.

"Just one; the Drakes," Mike confirmed. He looked around the table gauging reactions.

"We haven't dealt with them since before Ben passed away," Olivia said.

"Yeah, it's been at least five years since we worked with them," Teresa said.

"Was she supposed to meet up with anyone? A friend? Co-worker?" Fin asked.

"I called her best friend, Jody. She said Y/N texted her yesterday and asked her to lunch but Jody had to work," Peter said.

"And she isn't close with anyone at work," Mike replied, looking at Peter. The two men exchanged glances, both knowing what Mike had done to the coworker that was harassing you.

Sonny clocked the exchange between Peter and Mike. He furrowed his brow. "I can call a friend of mine and get street and traffic cam footage," Sonny offered.

“What about your old man?” Mike asked. “Would he have anything to do with it?”

Sonny narrowed his eyes at Mike. “No. He actually likes Y/N,” Sonny replied, emphasizing your name. There was something about the way Mike was acting that Sonny didn’t like. He’d speak to Peter about it later.

“Okay. Let’s get that footage, make some calls, and canvas the area again. We’ll meet back here in two hours,” Peter instructed.

“Hey, Peter. Can I speak with you in private?” Sonny quietly asked Peter.

Peter nodded. Once everyone was out of the office Peter said, “What do you want to talk about?”

Sonny stood and started pacing. “How well do you know Mike?”

Peter furrowed his brow. “Pretty well. He’s been on our security team for seven years. He dated Y/N.”

Sonny pursed his lips. “I know Y/N broke things off but she never said why. Were there any signs that Mike was jealous or-or not wanted to let her go?”

“I know where you’re going with this. He would never hurt, Y/N. He cares about her too much,” Peter stated. “Why are you asking so many questions about Mike?”

“There was something about his demeanor today. I don’t know. Just doesn’t sit right with me,” Sonny said.

Peter regarded Sonny. He thought about how Mike had been acting lately. He did seem to be missing a lot and preoccupied. “We’ll follow him. See where he goes.”

“Okay, good good,” Sonny sniffed. “And uh, Peter. When we find who did this, I’m going to kill them with my bare hands.”

Peter nodded. “You’ll have to get in line behind me.” Peter put his hand out to shake Sonny’s.

Sonny accepted and gave him a firm handshake.

Several hours later you woke up to a darkening sky and the house Mike brought you to was quiet. When you sat up your head seemed heavy, your brain felt foggy and your vision was blurry. You didn’t even remember lying down. The last thing you remembered was talking to Mike. It took a few minutes but you thought you felt steady and your vision was better.

Shaking your head, you pushed up from the sofa. When you tried to walk your gait was a little unsteady but the door was just steps away.

“Shit,” you murmured when you tried to open it. The door had a lock that needed a key to get out. Back door. There was a back door to the fenced-in yard. Geez, your head was pounding, making you feel unsteady and your vision tunnel. You squinted your eyes and concentrated on the door. Almost there. Just a few more steps.

“Where do you think you’re going, missy,” Officer Mack’s gravelly voice said, grabbing you from behind.

“Stop,” you mumbled, making a feeble attempt at pushing his hands off you. Your arms felt heavy and weak. “Mike would be very disappointed to know you were trying to leave,” he said. His breath was hot and smelled like old cigar smoke.

He dragged you back to the living room and tossed you onto the sofa.

“Mike,” you rasped.

“Oh, he won’t be back for a while. He’s out helping to look for you right now,” Mack chuckled.

You cleared your throat. “My brother, my-my boyfriend they’re gonna find me. When they get ahold of you-” you threatened, getting your voice back.

“Honey I ain’t scared of no brother or boyfriend,” Mack responded. He leered down at you. “Why don’t we have a little fun?”

“No!” you kicked hard at Mack and made contact with his groin. When he went to his knees you took your chance and sprang from the sofa.

“You bitch!” Mack spat as he rolled around on the floor.

You were still unsteady but willed yourself to the backdoor. “Oh thank goodness,” you muttered when you found the door unlocked. Heavy footsteps from behind made you pick up your pace.

“Get back here,” Mack snarled, grabbing your hair and pulling you backward.

When he grabbed you it made you lose your balance and hit the floor. Mack was on top of you in an instant.

“I was going to make this nice, but after that little stunt it won’t be,” he said. He started pulling at your shirt.

“Stop it!” you screamed. Punching at him and pushing him away. In an instant, Mack’s weight was off of you.

You sat up and scooted yourself back to rest against the wall.

Mike shoved Mack. “What the hell are you doing?” Mike’s voice boomed.

“That bitch came on to me!” Mack accused.

Mike’s eyes darted to you then back to Mack. “Nothing worse than a liar,” he warned. Then his eyes turned cold. Just like the night, he came home with his clothes covered in blood.

“Man, I’m not lyin’-” Mack started.

Mike narrowed his eyes. “That’s two times.” He pulled a gun from the back of his waistband and pointed it at Mack.

Mack held his hands up. “Okay. Okay. It was me. I-”

You covered your ears and squeezed your eyes closed when the gun went off but not before you saw Mack’s body hit the floor. Mike shoved the handgun into the holster at his hip.

“Oh my God,” you said, stunned by Mike’s actions. Mack’s head was half blown off. Gray matter, bone, and blood splattered the wall behind him. “I’m going to be sick.” You pushed past Mike to the restroom where you emptied the contents of your stomach.

“Here,” Mike spoke softly. He placed a cold, wet washcloth on the nape of your neck. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I hate when you get upset.”

It took everything in your body not to flinch when Mike rubbed his hand up and down your back. It was crazy to think that you craved his touch in the past, now it was revolting. You unrolled some toilet paper and wiped your mouth. What you wouldn’t give for a toothbrush right now but you’d have to settle for rinsing your mouth out with water.

Mike studied you in the mirror. “You are so beautiful,” he breathed. His hand brushed your hair over your shoulder, exposing your neck. Mike leaned down and brushed his lips along your neck.

“Mike, please,” you stuttered. “Don’t.”

He kissed your neck as his arms encircled our waist. “C’mon, baby,” he husked.

Tears stung your eyes. Something in your brain clicked and you knew what you needed to do. With trembling hands, you reached around to Mike’s thighs. You turned in his arms.

Mike gave you a salacious grin. His hands slipped from your waist to grasp your buttocks. “I’ve missed this ass,” Mike growled.

It took everything you had not to recoil in disgust. “Oh, yeah?”

Mike leaned down and pressed his lips hard against yours. His arousal was evident.

Slowly you trailed your hands down his sides. The metal of the gun was cold against your skin. “Can you get rid of that please?” you asked Mike gesturing toward the gun.

As far as Mike knew, you were terrified of guns. Peter made sure you knew how to shoot and do it well.

“Of course, darling,” Mike responded with a smirk. After placing the Glock on the opposite end of the counter he returned to you. Mike picked you up, sat you on the counter, and then wrapped your legs around his waist.

You thought you were going to vomit again. Closing your eyes, you allowed Mike’s hands to roam your body, and his lips to kiss your skin. Somehow you had to get to the gun. With a swift movement of your leg, you kicked Mike right in the groin. He went down hard. Taking your chance you reached for the gun and grasped the cool metal in your hand.

“You fucking bitch!” he groaned as he rolled on the ground, clutching the family jewels.

As you moved to step over him, Mike grabbed your other ankle causing you to fall. Thankfully your grip stayed tight on the but of the gun.

“I’m going to kill you,” Mike grunted.

“I don’t think so, asshole,” you muttered. You turned and pointed the gun in Mike’s direction and pulled the trigger. The bullet hit his shoulder. Not enough to kill him but good enough to subdue him. Mike lay in a heap on the bathroom floor moaning.

The gun stayed in your trembling hand but our arm fell to your side. Your body was filled with adrenaline, fear, and anger. If he was able to get ahold of you he would undoubtedly make sure you never got away. Your heart was beating so loud in your chest that you couldn’t hear anything else. The only choice you saw was to kill Mike before he had a chance to come after you. Slowly, you raised the barrel of the gun at Mike and put your finger on the trigger. He would never hurt you or anyone you loved again.

When a voice behind you said your name you jumped.

“Turn up here,” Nick commented. He scanned the neighborhood.

They were in the same area Y/N went missing. They found out that Mike had bought a house in the neighborhood. It was midway between Sonny and Peter's homes.

“Don’t need a backseat driver,” Fin said, shooting a look at Nick over his shades.

Nick rolled his eyes and then checked the mirrors and saw the black SUV that Sonny and Peter were riding in together. He called Sonny’s cell to tell them to fall back. They were close to the house Mike bought. “To be a fly on the wall in that car,” Nick commented.

Fin grinned. “I can only imagine.”

Both men scanned the house numbers. The homes were all older but they had been updated recently, except one.

“There. That’s it,” Nick said pointing to a two-story house with chipping yellow paint.

“I’ll pull around the block then-” Fin started. A gunshot rang out and Fin hit the brakes and shifted the car hard into park.

Both men scrambled from the car pulling their guns.

“Shots fired!” Nick said into the walkie-talkie.

Several seconds later the SUV carrying Peter and Sonny screeched to a halt in front of the house. Peter took the gun from his hip and Sonny retrieved his gun from his shoulder holster.

Nick kicked the front door in and entered the house with fin. Peter and Sonny were right behind him. Each man took a different part of the house; Fin went upstairs, Nick to the kitchen, Sonny toward the bedrooms, and Peter took the other downstairs rooms.

Sonny heard movement in the next room. He slowly made his way down the hallway. As he got closer he recognized your voice. It was soft like you were talking to yourself. Sonny swallowed hard not knowing what he would find.

Sonny let out a breath when he saw you sitting on the floor of the bathroom pointing the gun at Mike. You were still talking to yourself like you were working something out in your head. Sonny moved slowly so he didn’t startle you.

“Y/N,” Sonny said our name softly. He saw you jump at the sound of his voice. “I’m coming closer and I’m going to put my hand on your shoulder, alright?” His hand gently gripped your shoulder.

Slowly, you turned to look at Sonny. Until he touched you, you thought hearing his voice was all in your head. “Sonny,” you breathed his name.

“Yeah, doll. It’s me,” he replied. “Here. Give me the gun,” Sonny instructed.

“I can’t. If-if he gets up he’ll…,” you mumbled shaking your head.

Sonny gently directed the gun down. “Shhh… it’s okay. You’re okay.” He was able to take the gun from your hand and tucked it into the back of his jeans.

Your eyes grew wide when you looked down and saw Mike. “Oh-oh my God. I-I shot him,” you gasped.

“Hey, guys! In here!” Sonny called out to the others. “C’mere,” he said to you.

When you didn’t move he picked you up and carried you out of the room.

#sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #peter stone #fin tutuola #nick amaro #franchise affair #series #my writing

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harleybeaumont · 2 years

Text

Unintentional

Chapter 13 - The Secret

Book: The Royal Romance AU

Pairings - Liam x Maxwell, Drake x Riley

Synopsis- Since childhood, Liam has held a terrible secret that even he doesn't know about. As the years go by, he suspects more and more that there is something wrong with him. Can he put his life together and find happiness?

Series Warnings- oh so many: language, drinking, violence, sexual assault, abuse, murder, homophobia, bullying, mentions of suicide.. Also there will be lemons in some chapters.

Word count- 2,860

18+

Catch up here.

Chapter 13 - The Secret

Liam felt like the entire room was spinning as he sat on the floor of the pantry beside his mother. Was he even awake right now? His mother had her face buried in her arms, knees to her chest, sobbing loudly again.

Did his mother have the same issue he did? This was insane. Liam had so many questions, but this was not the place to ask them.

Eleanor looked up at him again. “Liam..” She sniffled. “I need to explain.”

“Not now.” He spoke softly as the door to the pantry creaked open. Leo was crying and knelt down next to the two of them.

“I’m so sorry, mom.” Leo hugged her tightly and she sobbed even harder. “The officers have done a thorough sweep through the palace and they feel that it’s safe for us to leave the kitchen. They um.. Don't want you to go back into your and dad’s suite but they said you can use one of the spare rooms.” Leo rubbed her back as her sobs slightly relented. “Why don’t you go upstairs and take a bath or something to help you relax?”

Eleanor stared at the floor for a moment then nodded slightly.

“I’ll walk with her.” Liam volunteered. The boys helped their mother stand and Eleanor leaned against Liam as she walked. Liam walked past Max, Drake, and Riley who all looked horrified at the confirmation of Constantine's death. Liam looked away from them quickly.

The officers bowed their heads respectfully as Eleanor and Liam walked past them. Liam escorted his mother upstairs into one of the spare rooms close to his. As soon as the door closed behind them Eleanor slumped to the floor. Liam checked to make sure no one was inside before helping her over to the couch. He had a million questions but wasn’t sure where to begin.

“Liam.. I-” Eleanor choked up. “I’ve done some terrible things.”

He looked at the floor, waiting for her to continue.

“I have something called.. homicidal somnambulism.” Her voice came out as a hoarse whisper. It was the most broken he had ever heard her sound. “I first discovered it when I was a teenager. I.. I have been getting therapy for it ever since.. Even hypnotism. I know you have no idea what I’m even talking about and it sounds totally mental-”

Liam’s heart broke for her. He knew that pain all too well. “Mother.. I have it too.”

Eleanor threw her hands over her mouth. “No,” She whispered.

Liam simply nodded, looking down at the floor.

“Oh my god.. my poor baby. I’m so sorry!” Eleanor hugged him tightly, sobbing against him and he couldn’t help the tears that fell from his own eyes. “This is all my fault.”

Liam pulled back, wiping his tears. “No it’s not.”

“Oh sweet Liam.. how did you find out?”

“You sure you want to hear about it? It’s.. horrible.”

Eleanor nodded. “Please.”

Liam told her about every time he had woken up in a different place and discovered the next day that someone was dead. Eleanor was holding her hand over her mouth in horror. “Liam.. your tutor from when you were young.. God, I never knew he hit you.”

“That’s what you're upset about? Not the fact that I killed him?!”

“Darling, this isn’t something that comes with a manual. Can’t I be upset about all of it?”

“Sorry.” His heart sank. He was so ashamed and confused and hurt all at the same time.

“Shit.” Eleanor said with her head in her hands. Liam didn’t think he had ever heard her swear before. “This is so messed up. I’m so sorry you have been dealing with this for so long! And you’ve been suffering alone the whole time.” She sighed. “I told my parents the first time it happened to me.”

“I guess I should have.” Liam still couldn’t look her in the eyes.

“No. Like I said this isn’t something that comes with a manual. And a lot of good it did me. I ended up doing it two more times anyway.” She sighed as she blotted her eyes with a tissue. “I just hate so much that you’ve had to deal with this pain.”

“I hate that you have too, mother.” Liam couldn’t believe that his mom had killed three people that she knew of. “So.. either one of us could have killed dad.”

“God.” She breathed out slowly as she stared at the wall. After a moment, her face hardened with resolve. “No. You know what? Neither of us did.”

Liam looked up at her and she gave him a stern look. “Neither of us did this, Liam. There’s not any proof. None at all.”

“That we know of!” Liam interjected.

“Liam.. I am the Queen. And I guarantee that there is no proof. No matter what lengths I have to go to.. There will be no proof, no evidence against you.”

Liam was taken aback. He had never seen his mother have so much conviction and it was a little intimidating. She took his hands and looked into his eyes.

“Repeat after me, darling. I am innocent.”

Liam gave her a sad look, and she squeezed his hands. “Ok..” He sighed. “I am innocent.”

“That’s right. I am going to protect my baby at all costs.”

Liam nodded, feeling like a small child again needing his mother to save him. But he supposed he never stopped needing his mother.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Liam. So much.” She wiped the remaining tears from his cheeks.

“Did father know that you have this?” Liam asked.

“No. He knew I sleepwalked occasionally. I need to try that handcuffing thing that you do. I don't know if hypnotism is working anymore.”

Liam let out a slight laugh. “What would people say if they knew both of us went to sleep at night handcuffed to our beds?”

Eleanor laughed. “That we must be werewolves?”

The two of them laughed together, finally breaking some of the tension.

Eleanor took a deep breath. “Now. We need to put on our best faces and handle this situation like the perfect Queen and Prince that we are.”

“Are you going to tell Leo?”

“Lord no.” She shook her head. “I don't want to burden him with this. I only told you because you’re so intuitive. Leo is a sweetheart, but the boy is a bit..”

“Self-centered?” Liam laughed.

Eleanor swatted his arm, chuckling. “Liam! I was going to say.. he’s a free spirit. He doesn’t get burdened the way we do.”

“Lucky him.”

Eleanor wrapped her arm around Liam, pulling him close. “We’re going to get through this, love.”

Liam nodded, rubbing his hands down his face. Eleanor stood up, pulling him up with her. “Now go on, darling. Let me take a bath and I will see you for dinner tonight.”

“Right.” Liam made his way out of her room and into his. He dropped down onto his bed with a sigh. This was a freaking nightmare, but in a sense his mother was right. They didn’t know for sure that they were the ones who killed Constantine. And what was his mother going to do to ensure it stayed that way? He knew that as the Queen she certainly had connections, but this was major. Surely the news that the King of Cordonia was dead had spread across the globe by now.. Not just dead, murdered. He didn’t think they had cameras set up around the inside of the palace. At least he hoped not. Liam heard his bedroom door creak open, but remained face down on the bed. He could already tell it was Maxwell just by the sound of his steps. He still hadn’t decided whether or not to tell Max about his mother’s confession.

“The police sent Drake and Riley home.” Max put his hand on Liam’s back. “You holding up ok, babe?”

Liam chuckled. “Not really.”

“I understand.” Max lay next to Liam. “The police just swabbed our hands and clothes for gunpowder residue. I guess that means he was shot?”

“Shit.” Liam looked at Max. “They’ll probably be coming in here next.”

“Well.. if you did it, maybe the shower will have washed it off?”

“I don't know.” Liam shook his head.

Max pulled him up. “Get in there and wash your fucking hands again. Like a hundred more times.”

“This is insane. I can’t live like this.”

“No. No, no, and no. We’re not going down that road again.” Max pushed him into the bathroom and turned on the water. “Now put your hands in here and scrub.”

A knock at the door grabbed their attention and Max left Liam in the bathroom while he answered it. Liam scrubbed his hands and arms feverishly. His mind flooded with worry for his mother. But she was taking a bath; surely she wouldn’t have any gunshot residue on her after a bath.

Max peeked into the bathroom, “No worries. It was just the staff bringing up some dinner.” Max watched Liam in concern. “Jesus, leave some skin on your hands!”

“Oh.” Liam was so distracted by his thoughts, he didn’t realize he was scrubbing that hard. He dried his reddened hands and the two sat at the small table in Liam’s suite.

“I’m not hungry.” Liam looked down at his plate with a frown.

“I know. Me neither. But we both need to eat something.”

Liam looked up at Max who was picking at his dinner sadly, and his heart broke. This wasn’t how life was supposed to be. Maxwell deserved to be happy, and Liam was so screwed up, he didn’t know if he would ever be able to give him the happiness he deserved. “Max. Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“I want you to give me a legit answer, ok? Don’t try to spare my feelings. Just.. be honest no matter what.”

Maxwell raised an eyebrow and put his fork down. “Ok..”

Liam took a deep breath. “Honestly, Maxwell. Do you really want to do this for the rest of your life? I know you care about me, but this is a shitty way for anyone to live. Always worrying. Always having to handcuff your psychotic boyfriend to the bed every time he falls asleep. I’ve accepted it because I have to.. But you don’t have to.” Liam saw the sadness in Maxwell’s eyes as he continued. “I’m being sincere with you now Max. I love you, and I always will. But this is demanding way too much from you. This is.. not the life you deserve.” Liam looked down at his plate trying not to show the sadness he was feeling. “I’m trying to give you an out.”

Maxwell stood and walked swiftly into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

Liam felt his heart hit the floor. He sincerely wanted to give Maxwell the chance to leave. He loved him enough to let him go. But it still hurt like hell to see him walk away without a word. Liam couldn’t even begin to imagine what Max was thinking.

Liam trudged over to the bed and dropped down onto it heavily. He didn’t have the energy to move. His eyes were growing heavy and he figured he should at least cuff one hand to the bed in case he fell asleep. He reached into the drawer, but stopped short when he remembered. Dammit the cops took my handcuffs! He remembered he still had those novelty ones in his wardrobe and apparently the cops hadn’t taken them. He put one on his wrist and attached it to the bed frame. Then he closed his eyes.

The next thing he knew, he was being shaken awake. “Liam, are you ok?” Max was whispering softly in his ear.

“Huh?” He pulled his arms down, but thankfully the one he cuffed was still attached to the bed.

“You were crying in your sleep.” Max said sadly.

“What time is it?” Liam looked around. The room was mostly dark, save for a lamp by the door.

“It’s one a.m. I took some time and thought about what you said.” Maxwell hesitated. “You were right.”

Liam felt his heart shatter, but held it together for Maxwell. “It’s ok. I told you I’m ok with whatever you choose. I meant it.”

“Liam..” Max whispered, clearly on the verge of tears.

“I’ll be ok. I promise. And you’ll get to live the life you deserve. I only want you to be happy-”

“Will you shut up for a minute?” Max was still speaking softly, but Liam was taken aback. “Stop being so damn noble all the time.”

“Um, sorry?”

“Hush.” Max was facing him and looked into his eyes. “I said you were right. I didn’t say about what.”

Liam wanted to speak, but kept his mouth shut as Maxwell continued. “You were right. It is a lot to deal with. And it is a shitty way to live. But it’s shitty for you, not me. I can't imagine what’s going on in your head all the time, always thinking you're a burden. I was so fucking angry when you said all that tonight. But.. the more I thought about it, the more I understood why you said it. You still have no idea how deep my love for you is. You still think you’re going to do or say something to run me off.”

Liam reached out to touch him, but he was still cuffed.

Max scoffed, “Where are the damn keys? I need to hug you.”

Liam chuckled, his heart beginning to mend back together as he realized Maxwell wasn’t leaving him. He reached into the drawer. “Here.”

Liam rubbed his wrist once Max uncuffed him. “Now I can continue.” Liam and Max were sitting across from each other on the bed and Maxwell took his hands in his own.

“Liam, I.. I want.. Oh shit.” He shook his head and smiled, but he was clearly tearing up.

“Are you ok? Your hands are shaking..”

“Liam, I.. don't want to handcuff my psychotic boyfriend to the bed every night. I want to handcuff my psychotic husband to the bed every night.”

Liam’s heart was going a mile a minute. A soft breath escaped him, his lips still parted in shock.

“If you don’t know what I meant by that.. It means I want to marry you, Liam.”

Liam’s heart was ready to burst and his stomach was full to the brim with butterflies. He still was speechless. Maxwell wants to marry me.

Maxwell looked at him nervously. “Ok, I know I told you to shut up, but it would be great if you would say something.”

Liam choked out a sob and threw his arms around Max. “Oh my god! Are you serious?”

“Yes!” Max squeezed him tightly. “I want to marry you, Liam. I’m never going to leave you, no matter how hard you try to push me away.”

“I want that too. More than anything.. I just didn’t want to burden you.” Liam closed his eyes as he and Max held each other. Both had tears streaming down their cheeks. When Liam pulled back he couldn't stop smiling. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too.” Max giggled and leapt forward, tackling Liam onto his back and kissing him hard. He took Liam’s face in his hands as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue inside his boyfriend's mouth. He pulled back a bit, resting his forehead against Liams. “I seem to have a bad habit of telling you important things at inopportune times, don't I?”

Liam chuckled, “Never. It’s perfect, just like you.”

“Perfect? I don’t think anyone has ever used that word to describe me, but I’ll take it!”

Liam pecked his lips. “I’m certain I’ve said that you’re perfect before. And if I haven’t, then shame on me.”

Max laughed and brought his lips down to Liam’s once more. Maxwell was still laying on top of Liam and sighed contentedly as he rested his head against his chest. Liam brought his arm around Maxwell’s back holding him tightly.

“Wow.” Liam spoke softly as he rubbed Maxwell’s back. “This started out as the worst day ever, and ended up as the best.”

Max laughed. “You really want to marry me, Liam?”

“Definitely.. I’ve thought about it a lot honestly. You sure you want to marry me? Even though I’m psychotic?” Liam chuckled.

“For sure! I like my men with deep underlying trauma. It’s sexy.. Like, this could be the origin of your superhero story.” The two of them cracked up together.

Liam ran his fingers through Maxwell’s soft, messy hair. “Now I just have to find some super romantic way to propose to you and you have to act surprised.”

“You don't have to propose! You already know I want to-”

“Shh! Just let me do this!” Liam laughed. “When I was younger, I always imagined proposing to someone one day. And it’s going to be fucking spectacular.”

Max placed a kiss to Liam’s chest. “Then I can’t wait.”

#unintentional #the royal romance #trr fanfic #the royal romance fanfic #maxwell beaumont #liam rys #liam x maxwell #drake walker #leo rys #drake x riley

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rafescoke · 3 years

Text

Maybank ; Rafe Cameron (Part 2)

Part #2

Read part #1 here

masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Sometimes both sides are in the wrong.

Warnings: More angst, mentions of substance, gaslighting!

A/N: you know the drill. . . send requests!

(Y/N) isn’t one to feel jealous easily.

When she dated a certain boy from her school a few years ago, she wasn’t even phased when she had found him kissing another girl at a party.

She simply didn’t care.

But the aching feeling in her when she saw her current boyfriend sniffing a line on the back of a random girl with the perfect house and the perfect clothes and the-

“(Y/N), do you want to come down to the beach with us?”

(Y/N) finally looks up from her novel in which she wasn’t even reading in the first place. Her mind was somewhere else, and her thoughts weren’t put in the context of the book.

“No. I’m not feeling well.”

JJ sighs, fixing his cap backwards and placing himself beside her. He looks over her lap, reading the first few lines of the book his sister’s reading and sighs.

“I never read, so I do not understand how this whole novel thing works. But I’m pretty sure reading about getting over a breakup won’t do you any good.”

(Y/N) rolls her eyes, snapping her book with a shut. The last thing she ever wants is for JJ to lecture her. She had enough bawling her eyes the past 2 weeks.

“What time are you supposed to go again? Go.”

She’s grateful, of course, for JJ. He was there for her the whole 2 weeks when she didn’t feel like eating or taking a shower or anything that involved getting out of the bed.

But she feels better now, her hair perfectly up in a hairdo and the red color of her cheeks returning.

She’s not sad anymore.

The feeling evolves into anger.

Of course, (Y/N).

You’re nothing but a pogue.

If there’s one thing Obx is famous for, that will be the annual bonfire. It’s an excuse for every teenager on the island to let loose and to free themselves after a year of studying.

For (Y/N), it’s just another party for Rafe to ignore her.

But she’s not coming down to the beach with him a few distance away, hell, she doesn’t even know if he’s coming.

“What the fuck! You told me you’re not coming,” JJ laughs, giving his sister a side hug. “You look good. You don’t look pale anymore.”

“I’m gonna be sick if you keep saying nice things to me,” (Y/N) rolls her eyes, though her insides are beaming. JJ has always been her number one supporter, and she loves her brother with all her heart.

“Just don’t go to the other side of the beach, okay? All your friends are here.”

And we’re back to him protecting her.

She gets it, really, but she doesn’t feel like a night full of JJ and his friends becoming some sort of bodyguards to her.

The last thing she ever wants is for Rafe to think she’s still weak.

“J, I know.”

He holds both of his hands up, “I’m just saying. I’m by the fire if you ever need me, okay?”

It’s funny how the boy who cried to her over his scraped knee is the same boy who’s trying his best to protect her. Growing up in a dysfunctional family, all (Y/N) and JJ has is each other.

(Y/N) walks to the music booth, getting so tired over the same artist being played over and over again. She doesn’t feel like listening to Drake all while trying to forget a certain brunette boy from the back of her head.

“Hey, can I get something different? Play the Euphoria soundtrack if you must. Anything other than the songs you’re playing.”

The DJ looks up to her and gives out the widest grin. (Y/N) tries to look away from the charming smile, but her eyes are glued to a pair of blue ones.

“Not a fan of Drake?”

“Nah.”

“Why? Trying to move on from an ex?”

She gulps, “No. Just have a good taste in music.”

The guy licks his teeth, “Touche. The name’s Nate.”

(Y/N) gives him a small grin, “Hm. Can we change the song now?”

Nate raises a brow because god; no one has ever disregard him.

There’s something about the girl.

“Is Party In The USA good enough for you, princess?”

Her breath hitches. The last time someone has ever called her princess was probably a few weeks ago.

This is not helping her to get over him.

“Whatever. You’re the DJ, right?” she answers, turning on her heels. “Oh wait, Nate?”

He smiles at her again, and (Y/N) has the urge to slap the smug look off his face.

“Don’t call me princess. You’re not my boyfriend.”

For the past 40 minutes, no Drake song has been playing. The crowd begins filling the empty space in the middle to dance with each other, and (Y/N) has to look away from the couple getting close and leaving kisses down each other’s necks.

She makes her way down to the drinks counter to get herself a beer because she really doesn’t feel like watching another friend of hers kissing their partners while sober. She decides that if she has to stay for another hour of people making out with each other, it’s better if she’s intoxicated.

“Hey.”

(Y/N) turns her back, expecting to see a drunk friend of hers, but the sight of the same DJ from before greets her.

She rolls her eyes, “I’m not asking you to change the music.”

“I know, I guess I started off wrong just now. Let me reintroduce myself. You deserve to know the real me.”

(Y/N) laughs, because this whole thing sounds like something out of a corny Netflix movie. He’s cute, sure, but she’s just not interested.

He removes the beanie he’s been wearing all night, revealing a blonde buzz cut underneath. (Y/N) tries not to stare.

Okay. Screw cute. He’s handsome.

“Hi, I’m Nate. I’m from New York, and I just moved here.”

She smiles, finally, because he fits the exact image she has of every male teenager in New York. Blonde buzz cut, an unbuttoned blue shirt with a peak of his toned body underneath, and a pair of red shorts.

A new kook.

“Nate, your kind and I don’t match. You’re a kook.”

He scrunches his face, “They’ve been telling me that shit since the first week I’ve been here-” he steps closer, and (Y/N) can smell his expensive cologne. It’s not the same one she favors on Rafe, but it’s close. “-don’t tell me you believe that stuff.”

Oh.

She grins, “I’m not rich, Nate.”

“So?”

Oh.

“The name’s (Y/N),” she smiles, extending her hand. Nate beams, because finally, after a whole night of watching her from his booth, she finally expresses the most beautiful smile there is.

“(Y/N), I feel like we’re going to get closer soon.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“I’m not a Drake’s fan either.”

. . .

(Y/N)’s hesitant.

She doesn’t believe him in one bit, not even when he flashes her the most charming smile ever.

But he’s not afraid to show her off. She went on a date with him a few nights ago, and she distanced herself from him upon the entrance of the restaurant.

“What the fuck are you doing? C’mere.”

(Y/N) looked up to him, “You don’t have to stay near with me.”

Nate turned to her with a confused expression. “Why? I’m buying you dinner, remember?”

He held her hands in his, and she let him.

Nate pokes her side and suppresses a giggle when she yelps from the sudden touch. He fails, however, when she falls from his bed onto the floor.

“You’re too ticklish,” he says and helps her up to her feet. Her eyes wander to the band posters on his wall again, being so amazed and surprised by this boy’s taste in music and movies.

“I don’t even listen to half of the bands you listen to,” she says finally, pulling herself down to the empty space beside him. “Do you know who’s Ariana Grande?”

Nate rolls his eyes, “Ha-ha. No. I don’t. Is she the one who sang Despacito or something?”

(Y/N) laughs and her heart suddenly soars. She feels at ease, and there’s lightness in the air, even when they’re in public.

(Y/N) stands up, taking the full room into view again, and walks to the shelf full of pictures of Nate and his family. There’s a picture of him in a soccer jersey, a picture of him playing the drums and then an electric guitar, and-

“Oh my god, is this your girlfriend?” (Y/N) exclaims, picking up a photo frame with a beautiful brunette girl smiling back at her. “She’s so pretty.”

“(Y/N), put it back,” Nate rolls his eyes, standing up from the comfort of his bed and walking towards her. (Y/N) laughs, liking the way his eyebrows scrunch in distress and hides the photo frame behind her.

“(Y/N). . . I’m not playing.”

“No one is playing, Nate,” she laughs, taking a few steps back as he motions forward. “I can’t believe you have a sweetheart back in NYC, Nate.”

“(Y/N), put it back.”

(Y/N) pulls a confused expression, “Put what back?” she brings the frame forward, and expressed a fake sigh. “Oh, this? I was just checking this out-” Nate charges for her and she squeals, running towards the end of his room and watching as he runs in her direction. She panics, looking around for a place to hide, and as her eyes meet his bed, Nate has the same idea in his head.

He pushes her over his bed so she topples over, the frame still in her hands. She yelps, leaving the frame alone and using both of her hands to push his chest away.

Nate hovers over her, being so close he can smell her sweet scent now, and she looks so good under his yellow lights and in his bed and that goddamn smirk on her face-

“Is she your girlfriend, Nate?”

“None of your concern, princess,” he answers. Her eyes snap down to the cross dangling from his neck, and he can’t do this anymore; not when she looks so pretty under his gaze.

(Y/N) can feel the sudden change in the air now, and the chasing game they’ve been playing suddenly doesn’t look like a chasing game.

He’s like a predator waiting to attack.

(Y/N)’s eyes look up to him again. “Is she your girlfriend?”

And he connects his lips with her. She gasps from the sudden touch, but after a few seconds, he can feel her kissing him back.

And for once, she feels okay again. She wraps her arms around him, pulling him close to her and letting his warmth engulfing her.

She feels at peace.

“Rafe,” she whispers, letting the blonde boy trails down to her neck.

Nate pulls away, his lips sore and red after their brief makeout session.

Chest heaving, he steps away. “Rafe?”

(Y/N) sits up, groaning and fixing her hair. “God, I’m so stupid. I don’t mean that, Nate, I’m sorry. Please, don’t go.”

Nate pulls a disgusted face, and it’s the same look Rafe had put in the party a few weeks ago to her and she can feel herself losing again.

“I’m going out. You can stay here if you want.”

“Nate-”

The door closes behind him, and (Y/N) groans.

Way to go, (Y/N).

. . .

She hates how bad she feels for Nate.

He has been nothing but a total sweetheart to her, and there she was; moaning another guy’s name and letting him walked out of his own home.

So that’s the core reason as to why she’s standing outside of his house at 10 p.m. on a Friday, letting the heavy rain soaks her whole outfit because of course she would forget to bring an umbrella.

She knocks again, with her fists this time, because she’s certain he hadn’t heard her. For a moment, she’s afraid his father or mother would open the door but after remembering how they’re going to be away for a business trip, she sighs in relief.

The door opens midway of her banging on the door, revealing a shirtless Nate with nothing but green sweatpants complimenting his legs.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing here?” he groans, tugging her arms in and closing the door after her. (Y/N) attacks him in a tight hug, slightly shivering from the cold rain outside, and after a few seconds, Nate hugs her back.

“You’re okay?”

“Can we talk in your room?”

“Uh, I don’t-”

(Y/N) doesn’t let him give any excuse and she pulls him into the living room, but before she can reach the space, he pulls her to a halt.

“Hey, we can’t go there, I’m kinda, um, doing something. What’s wrong?”

She sighs, “Nate, I’m so sorry, okay? I didn’t mean it when I called you someone else’s name and that’s the stupidest thing I ever did but please don’t go, okay? You’re all I have.”

Nate laughs, “God, you’re really worried about that? I get it, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

“It is, really. But tell me one thing, though-” he pulls her arms, and pins her against the wall. (Y/N) smiles, staring into his blue orbs. “Is this Rafe more handsome than me?”

“Hey man, we really can’t wait-” a voice starts from the direction of the living room, and before (Y/N) can move away, the voice rings again. “Ah. Of course.”

Oh my god.

She misses him too much. His hair is messier than ever, his eyes bloodshot and his nose red. (Y/N) wonders how many lines he did, but judging from the distant look in his eyes, she’s guessing a lot.

“Rafe,” she whispers, getting closer to the boy she missed and letting his smell engulf her.

“Rafe?” Nate quirks a brow because this isn’t making any sense. Why would she called his friend the name-

Of course.

Rafael is Rafe.

So this is the guy.

His childhood friend is ‘the Rafe’ of the girl he’s starting to fall for.

After so many hours of trying to find the Rafe she accidentally called him, he hadn’t thought of his own childhood friend to be the guy all along.

Growing up, he have been told to call him Rafael up until the day he moved to New York.

He can’t believe it.

“Rafe,” she calls again, this time following Rafe out to the living room. “Rafe, listen to me.”

“You moved on too fast.”

“I haven’t moved on, Rafe, fuck, I swear I haven’t,” she expresses. “Please. Listen to me.”

“You were mad at me for doing a line from some bitch’s back and you’re, you’re o-out here, under my own fucking friend’s arms and- did y’all fucked?”

“What?” she gasps, “God, Rafe, no. No. I will never fuck anyone other than you.”

“Yeah?” Rafe raises a brow and lets out a shrill laugh. “God, I don’t even know if I can trust you.”

“You can, Rafe,” she steps forward, trying to reach his face with her cold fingers. The anger she felt before suddenly dissipates into the thin air because god, she did not realize how much she has been missing this boy more than anything in the world.

Her everything.

Rafe flinches away, “Stop. Do you know how miserable I am the past few weeks without you?”

“Don’t turn this on me now, Rafe.” “And you’re out here with fucking Nate Hamilton. Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Rafe, it’s not like that,” Nate suddenly steps in, and (Y/N) gives him a warning look not to say anything more. He ignores her, “Are we not going to talk about how you disregard her just because of her status on this fucking island?”

“God, always with your equality shit,” Rafe groans. “You guys deserve each other. I can’t believe you will ever do this to me, Nate.”

What hurt Rafe more isn’t the fact that she was all pinned under his arms, but it was because Nate knew about their relationship. Rafe had told him everything about her ever since they first started dating, and he hadn’t just lost her tonight.

He lost his childhood friend too.

“I’m leaving,” he says, rubbing his nose and sniffing. Rafe isn’t sure how many lines he has done, but his mind is getting lighter and lighter and the lights are turning blurry.

He can’t stand being in the same room as them. He will fucking drive if he has to.

(Y/N) bites her lips, trying to stop herself from bursting into tears. So they know each other? Why won’t Rafe ever tell her about him? Is this still her fault? She wasn’t even cheating on him. They’re not together.

Right?

Are they together?

“Hey, you’re okay?”

(Y/N) pulls her hands away, stepping away from the blonde boy and walking towards the exit. She has to leave this house as soon as possible. The once comforting bright color of the wall seems so dull and suffocating now, and she longs for the familiar blue paint of Rafe’s room.

She wants Rafe.

No one else.

Just him.

“Just me?” Rafe smiled. “Hey, hey, I got a surprise for you.”

“Rafe, I hate surprises,” (Y/N) groaned, throwing her head back against the headrest. “You bought me a dress before!”

“Look-” he smiled, showing her a gold ring in a small velvet box. “It’s a ring.”

“Oh my god, it looks like yours!” (Y/N) exclaimed, clutching his hand with the ring and comparing the color.

“Of course it’s the same ring. You’re my wife, I’m not going to buy you a different kind.”

“Wife?”

“What? Am I not your husband?”

(Y/N) wishes for nothing but Rafe.

She presses on his contact again, turning her phone downside and moving the speaker nearer to her lips.

“Rafe, please call me back. I miss you, and we can fix this, okay? I didn’t know about Nate and I was so, so stupid. I can never replace you, Rafe. You’re mine, remember? Please. Call me back. I miss you.”

She sighs, setting her phone down on her lap and watches as the rain patters down her front windscreen heavily.

Love is a hell of a drug.

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river-bottom-nightmare · 3 years

Text

the thing about life was that a flame could be so easily blown out, so people fought like hell to keep it alive. the tip of the candle could easily be cupped for protection, gentle breath given to let the flame flutter back to life. (is that what she did? when she pounded his chest again and again, her magic stronger than any human could be? when she pressed her lips to his and breathed the very essence of life back into his body?) what people often forgot was that you could simply relight the candle.

bernard hadn't thought about darla in years. people on online forums, ones he'll never tell tim how often he visited, spoke of their experiences with metas and myths and anyone in between. he knew what happened to people accosted by magic, knew of chains trapping them with their own terror, their minds turning against themselves as their nightmares came to life.

bernard, on the other hand, could say that he wasn't all that haunted by darla. she'd lifted his car off the ground in a display of power, told bernard she was laura fell now, no matter the fact that she looked and walked and talked like darla aquista, then threatened his life on behalf of her seemingly never-ending obsession with tim motherfucking drake. seemingly, because when bernard had brought up old times they used to spend with darla over lunch, casual as you please, tim had grinned a little before dismissing his fears. darla was training with some sort of enchantress to try and be good, growing more powerful by the day.

bernard wondered, for a moment, if all of his friends could make the earth quake with a press of their fingertips. if all of his friends could bend those figures of myth and meta and magic with only their will. if he'd spent his life in the company of gods in everything but name, right down to the perfect muscles pulling under skin and battle-worn glimmer in eyes too old to be on a faces so young. (bernard wondered, for a moment, if there was any way he could join them. if the madness in darla's eyes as she demanded tim's whereabouts and the screams of terror on his boyfriend's lips as he woke up with a knife in his hand were worth it.)

bernard knew there was nothing he could have done for darla. probably not now but definitely not back then. he had no power over life and death, he couldn't have saved darla from the bullet wound that cost her nearly everything had he even attempted to try. sometimes, darla shifted in his memories, morphed into someone with the same dark hair and same blue eyes, but with broader shoulders and a kinder smile.

there was the fear that one day, something would take tim down, a dark shadow grappling with his boyfriend's shining, golden soul before snuffing it out as surely as a candle. then there was the fear that one day, something would bring tim back, clawed fingers opening his boyfriend's eyes and twisting that golden soul into something dripping and jagged, as poisonously yellow as laura fell.

(bernard learned of what happened to jason todd on accident, a couple years after the cult of dionysus. there were some horrors he could force himself to speak aloud, some fates that he couldn't stomach.)

(if tim was surprised at the way bernard's fingernails dug into his back as he held the vigilante close, at the way bernard took advantage of the inches he'd lost to tim's late growth spurt to curl himself completely into his boyfriend's arms, then tim never showed a whisper of it.)

the quickest way to avoid all of that, bernard thought, was to just make sure tim didn't die in the first place.

"hey," tim said, bringing his hand up to flick bernard on the forehead. "only shit nurses get distracted when they're treating their patient."

"only shit patients have such abysmal bedside manner."

"oooh, abysmal," tim waggled his eyebrows. "that word-of-the-day calendar is really coming in handy, huh?"

bernard sniffed. "i'll have you know that i am a well-read intellectual. fuckin' sherlock at this point."

in the movies, people with wounds like the glaring one on tim's shoulder sagged into the wall, made tearful confessions through a mouth full of blood, shuddered in pain at the slightest touch. tim's fingers hurt where he hit bernard's forehead, he didn't lose his smart mouth for anything, and was tapping his foot in impatience before bernard propped it up on the sofa.

"you're fucking sherlock? that's such a sweet pet name, you should use it more often," tim teased.

"don't get a big head, you're not that good."

bernard opened the first aid kit, unusually large and unusually used. his fingers found the small pipe bottle of water and the gauze. he tore a small piece off before wiping off the rest of the dried blood as gently has he could.

"you know," tim sounded almost contemplative, musing. completely disregarding what should have been a throbbing pain. completely trusting bernard to take care of him. "ra's al ghul called me detective once."

bernard's fingers closed around the saline solution with more ease than what was comfortable, but he had plenty of practice pushing those thoughts aside.

"i have no clue who that is," he said, feeling tim tense only the barest bit when he poured the solution over the wound. it had to have stung something fierce. bernard had seen grown men whimper at the sensation. tim sighed and tipped his head back instead.

"no one important," tim chuckled. "but i do kinda wish damian was here to hear that."

antibiotics next, and if tim felt the urge to shy away from bernard's fingers as he brushed the wound with ointment, bernard couldn't tell; he suppressed it as impressively as always.

"come on, no sibling talk when you're shirtless and i'm on top of you." bernard joked. neither of them mentioned the blood staining tim's undershirt-slash-makeshift-bandage, the dried blood flakes all over tim's lap, the way bernard's thighs were clenching tim to the point of pain.

between one blink and the next, tim was all wrapped up, gauze in place and bandage taped on top. his boyfriend's lovestruck little smile gleamed up at him, one bernard recognized. a pinch of awe and a dash of trust and a sprinkle of comfort. mix them together and bake at 350, bernard thought a bit hysterically, and you get love for a man who's terrified at how fast he can use bandages.

still, tim took precedent. every night bernard spent washing his hands too roughly at the sink was another night his boyfriend was breathing on the bed in the other room. every night bernard opened that unusually large and unusually used first aid kit was another night tim's soul stayed whole and shining and untarnished by whatever creatures took people beyond the veil only to drag them back. every night bernard spend trying to rub the scent of copper and the spill of liquid poppy off his fingers was another night bernard used his bloodstained hands to keep tim's flame alive.

i mayyyyyyyy have gotten a little too excited every time i used the word "boyfriend."

tag list: @woahjaybird @anothertimdrakestan @birdy-bat-writes @screennamealreadyused @subtleappreciation @bikoncon @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @bonkybearjpeg @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption @capricorn-stark @batshit-birds @buticaaba @comics-observer @newsical

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waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

Text

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter two rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peters greatest love and Spider-Man’s greatest enemy

Masterlist and Series Masterlist

Moving and finding an apartment can be an incredibly long and stressful process. Unless you’re you, and life likes to throw a lot of curve balls at you for the utter hell of it.

Your dad dropped dead three weeks after you told Andy you were moving to New York. Coincidentally, right in the middle of you trying to find a place to live. He drank himself to death. Figures. You doubted you’d ever had a conversation with him that he was sober enough to remember. His untimely demise was unfortunate for him, because he died or whatever, but very fortunate for you. As his only child, you got his apartment in Queens and all his smelly hoodies.

You said your goodbyes to Andy and Dani after a night out in the streets of San Francisco. You had originally moved there after high school to start your show, The L/n Report. San Francisco was known for its crimes against the homeless population and you wanted to start with a story on that. You ended up interviewing Andy at the police station while investigating a missing person, and dated him for two years. Now, you were spending your last few hours in San Francisco with the very boy you once loved and the very girl he now did.

“Are you all packed?” Dani asked you, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Pretty much. I gotta put my toothbrush and hairbrush in my suitcase in the morning. Other than that, I’m good to go.” You answered her. She smiled fondly at you as she linked her arm through yours.

“Hey, I’m really gonna miss you. More than that guy over there.” You whispered, nodding towards Andy, who had his head buried in his phone. Dani laughed and nodded in agreement as you continued to walk.

“I’m going to miss you too. You’re my best friend here.” She sighed sadly.

“I’m glad we’re friends. Most women in our position would hate each other.” You thought out loud.

“Uh uh. You’re thinking of women in films. It’s 2021, baby. Women support women. You and I are two talented, smart, beautiful women who would never be caught fighting over some boy. Especially not one who can’t take his eyes off his phone for two seconds.” Dani said loudly and smacked Andy’s arm. You laughed at the domestic moment but couldn’t help feeling a pain in your heart knowing he used to be that way with you.

“What, sorry?” Andy looked up. You and Dani looked at him before looking at each other and laughing.

“What’s funny?” He asked, growing annoyed.

“We’re laughing at you babe. Put your phone away. It’s Y/N’s last night here.” Dani scolded playfully. Andy sighed and reluctantly put his phone in his pocket.

“Right, sorry. And it’s not her last night here. She’s coming back. You are coming back, right?” He asked you. You nodded, though you weren’t entirely sure.

“Of course I’ll be back.” You shrugged. “I just want to experience something new for a while. I’ve done a million pieces on homelessness and poverty. I want to see what fresh stories New York has to offer.”

“You’re quoting the Daily Bugle, aren’t you?” Dani teased you.

“That is verbatim what they said to me.” You admitted with a laugh. “But hey, it worked. As of tomorrow, I’m the Daily Bugle’s newest investigative reporter.”

“Who are you reporting on anyway?” Andy showed a rare interest in your work.

“Some guy named Cletus Kasady.” You answered. “He’s some hot shot serial killer down in Queens. No one knows how he’s hiding his victims bodies. Apparently none have ever been close to being found.”

“And they want you to write the story on him?” Andy raised an eyebrow, always with the condescending tone.

“Well they heard about the whole Carlton Drake situation and decided I hadn’t been through enough trauma in my career.” You replied, earning a laugh from Dani but not Andy. You and Andy had already broken up by the time Carlton Drake contracted a symbiote and tried to kill you and Venom. You stopped him before he could hurt anyone and wrote a career defining article on his lethal human experiments. You managed to leave out all information regarding symbiotes from the article, so your secret was still safe. You were a fairly well known reporter since the incident and your next job was waiting for you in New York.

In the morning, You and Venom got on a plane and made your way to New York. Being on a plane with Venom turned out to be the equivalent to traveling with a toddler. You tried to sleep, but every two seconds you had to stop Venom from getting into trouble. She kept trying to open the window, even after you explained to her that everyone on the plane would die horrible death if the window were to open.

“Stop that.” You whispered when you noticed a black tendril creeping towards the window. The lady in the seat next to you shot me a look of confusion. You gave her a fake smile and turned back to the window, doing your best to conceal the small black tendril that was coming out of your body and fidgeting with the airplane window.

“We want it open.” Venom replied telepathically.

“Do you also want us to blow out of the plane and into space?” You said through my teeth.

“We didn’t anticipate that but it’d be appreciated.” Venom answered, making you groan. The rest of the plane ride followed in similar fashion.

Seven hours later, you arrived at the apartment building. You had never been to your dads apartment, you didn’t even know he had one. You wondered what happened to your childhood home as you looked around the place. The apartment wasn’t too small but not too big either. The rent was practically nothing compared to how expensive San Francisco was, and The Daily Bugle offered to cover your expenses until the story was done. You figured after some redecorating and moving in, it would make a fine new home.

The first seven days in the apartment went by smoothly. You unpacked, with little to no help from Venom, and set up the furniture. On the eight day, you sat on the couch, aimlessly flipping through channels in the TV when you had a thought.

“Oh shit.” You said out loud.

“What?” Venom, who was curly nestled around your neck like a neck pillow, asked.

“I forgot mail exists.” You frowned. “We better go check the mailbox before it overflows.”

You and Venom grudgingly walked to the mailboxes and back again. No one was around, so she manifested herself and rested on your shoulder as I looked through the mail.

“Oops. I grabbed someone else’s mail too.” You clicked your tongue when you read a strangers name off the envelope. “I gotta find them.”

“Let’s go.” Venom said and pulled you towards the front door.

“Sorry, babe. This is a me thing, not a we thing. You know I love you but I don’t want to scare our neighbors. Not yet anyway.” You reasoned. Venom grumbled and went back inside your body.

You checked the address of the envelope and discovered that it belonged to the apartment directly across from you.

You knocked on the door and patiently waited for someone to open it as you mindlessly cracked your knuckles. Just as you were about to walk away, the door opened.

“Hi, are you May Parker?” You asked right away. You looked up from the envelope and your face instantly flushed. The person staring back at you definitely wasn’t May Parker. It was a boy around your age, maybe a little younger. He had soft brown eyes and wavy brown hair. It was gelled back loosely and you could see the outline of soft curls. To your surprise, he was just as flushed as you were. You stared at each other for a moment, no one wanting to be the first to blink.

“Yea. I’m May Parker.” The boy said finally. He shut his eyes in embarrassment and shook his head.

“I mean, no I’m not. But that’s my Aunt. May is my Aunt but I’m not May. That’s my Aunt May. I’m her nephew…obviously. Aunt May is my Aunt May. I…what?” He stumbled over his words and somehow turned even redder. His blush reached all the way down his neck, to his blue jumper that read “Midtown Tech” in yellow letters. You recognized the name of one of the most prestigious high schools in New York, already impressed with your new neighbor.

“Well hello, not May Parker. I’m also not May Parker. But I seemed to forget that when I grabbed your mail this morning. Sorry about that.” You said sheepishly as you handed his mail to him. The boy rubbed the back of his neck as he looked at it and attempted to redeem himself.

“It’s not problem. She and I always forget to check the mail so you actually helped us, um, whoever you are.” He smiled weakly. His voice was cute. He had that Queens accent that the people of San Francisco lacked, for obvious reasons.

“Oh, right.” You laughed in embarrassment. “I’m Y/N L/N. I just moved here from San Francisco. I live across the hall.”

You pointed to the door behind you as if he didn’t know what “across the hall” meant. You didn’t know what was wrong with you. You were never this awkward.

His eyes lit up a bit once you told him where you lived.

“Really? I thought that smelly guy lived there.” The boy said and you stifled a laugh.

“That smelly guy was my father. He died a little while ago so I live there now.” You told him, malign the boys eyes widen. They were so brown. Like little pools of honey. Or little pools of the Hudson River. You had seen a million pairs of brown eyes before, but none like his. They were quite distracting to be honest.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I had. I had no idea-“ he began to frantically apologize but you cut him off.

“Don’t worry about it. We never got along. And you’re right, that man stank.” You chuckled. It was the first thing you said that felt like your old self. You hadn’t really talked to anyone since moving to New York, with the exception of Venom and the occasional phone call from Andy or Dani. You liked talking to this boy, though you still had no idea who he was.

“Oh thank God. I thought I screwed this up before it even went anywhere.” He immediately turned red when he heard his own words. You saw the regret in his eyes and decided to throw him a bone.

“Well it certainly can’t go anywhere until you tell me your name.” You flirted. Again, he relaxed. You felt a surge of confidence knowing he wanted this to go well.

“Parker. I’m Parker Peter. I mean, Peter Parker.” He fumbled over his words again, making you smile fondly.

“We like him. He’s cute.” Venom said telepathically. You looked down at my shoes and blushed, knowing you liked him too.

“And he looks delicious.” She added, ruining the moment.

“It’s nice to meet you Peter Parker.” You gave him your best smile. “I’m glad there’s someone my age around here. Everyone I’ve met so far is either an old bitty or a creepy uncle type.” You regretted it as soon as it left your mouth. You didn’t know what his sense of humor was like and he might not find you the slightest but funny. Andy always told you you were bad at telling jokes, and you feared he might be right.

Lucky for you, Peter burst out laughing.

“Ah. I’ve seen you’ve met Henry.” Peter pointed a finger down the hall. “Yeah, I’d stay away from him. He asked me if he could have pictures of my feet once. He said he’d “pay me handsomely” for it too.”

“Damn. So he beat me to asking you.” You pretended to be upset, which made Peter laugh again. The sound of his laugh made your heart pick up speed. You weren’t used to feeling like this. Boys rarely impressed you, Andy was just lucky you liked a man in uniform.

“Yeah. You better stay away from him.” Peter advised.

“It might be hard.” You clicked your tongue. “Our mailboxes are pretty close. I’ll make a mental note to never check my mail while wearing flip flops, though.”

Peter smiled at your joke. He had the kind of smile that you would make the person laugh just to see it again. It was brilliant.

“Well my mailbox should be directly above yours. So don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” He grinned, and you grinned back.

“My hero.” You gushed as you put your hands over your heart. The tips of his ears went pink, like he was shocked that you said that.

“I’m no hero.” He sounded almost panicked, like you touched a nerve or something.

“We’re hungry. We need to eat.” Venom interrupted abruptly, causing you to jump. Since Peter couldn’t hear her, he looked at you strangely, not knowing the cause of your sudden jolt.

“Sorry, I uh, I thought I saw a spider.” You lied.

“If there was a spider, we’d eat it. We need food. Now.” Venom demanded.

Peter looked up at his doorframe for the imaginary spider.

“Yeah, New York is full of them.” Peter said skeptically. “Not that full, though. And some spiders are nice. One might even call them friendly.”

“Right.” You laughed at his strange wording, unaware that you were both keeping a secret.

“Would…” Peter began but trailed off, seemingly mulling something over in his head. “Would you like to eat dinner with my Aunt and I? I remember when we first moved in, it took us a while to get into the swing of things and make dinner every night. If you like, you could join us. And, you know, we could get to know each other.” He offered. It all came out in one breath. You could tell he was nervous and that only drew you in more.

“I’d love to Peter.” You said, and he smiled in relief.

“Great.” He gave an awkward thumbs up. “We usually eat around six so maybe come around then? She’ll be so happy to meet you. She loves cooking and she always tries to get me to learn but I once burnt cereal and I still don’t know how.” Peter began to ramble. He cut himself off and shook his head again. “Sorry. I’m rambling.”

Then, you did something stupid. You put your hand on his arm like the dumb bitch you were. You barely knew this guy. Who the hell were you to touch him? He must’ve been thinking the same thing, since he instantly froze under your touch and stared at your hand on his arm.

“Don’t apologize. I can’t cook either. Unless you count making tater tots as cooking. Then I’m Gordon Ramsey.” You assured him, feeling him relax under your touch.

“You’re just gonna mention tater tots without warning us first? Our mouth is watering. Can we eat Peter?” Venom asked, making your eyes widen.

If it was socially acceptable to scream at your symbiote in public, you would’ve yelled “NO, WE CANNOT EAT PETER” from the top of your lungs. But since you didn’t want to scare Peter and the rest of the neighbors away, you merely smiled and made another mental note to smack the shit out of Venom later.

“I love that man. “Where is the lamb sauce?” Peter mimicked in a bad British accent. He had no right being as charming as he was.

“No no no.” You shook your head. “His best line is “I’ll get you more pumpkin and I’ll ram it right up your ass. Would you like it whole or diced?”. He’s said some pretty wild things but that one makes me cry.”

Peters laugh rang through the halls. To be the cause of that laugh was a feeling like no other. You stood there for a while, just looking at each other. His eyes grazed down your body, but not in a crude way. You berated yourself for not dressing better when going to meet the neighbors, clad in nothing but a grey hoodie and some leggings. Peter looked cute, but you had a feeling he always did. His jumper was pretty baggy and you could see a collared shirt poking out the top. He was dressed almost professionally and you found it incredibly endearing.

You wanted to know more about him. You wanted to know his secrets and his hobbies and what makes him itch. You wanted to see if he dresses this way on weekends too or what his summer clothes looked like. Your gawking was interrupted by Peters phone ringing. He broke out of his trance and answered it quickly.

“Hi, Mr. S. No I’m not busy. I mean, I’m super busy but I can totally make time for you. Yea, Happy talked to me. Okay. Okay. Where? Okay. See you in a bit.” Peter hung up and looked at you apologetically.

“That was my job. I have to run but I’ll be back in time for our dinner. I live at…you know where I live. I’ll see you then. Don’t be late.” Peter called as he ran down the hallway, towards the elevator.

“I won’t. See you later.” You called back.

You went back to your apartment and like a kid, broke out into a happy dance.

“Venom!! Did you see how cute he was?” You gushed. “And how funny he is? I have to get ready for tonight.”

Venom manifested and swirled around my arm.

“Someone has a crush.” Venom smirked. Well, as much of a smirk as she could muster with that huge mouth of hers.

“I don’t have a crush. I just think he’s cute okay?” You replied coyly. “Cute. And funny and sweet and charming and amazing. But that’s it.”

“We can feel your heart beat.” Venom reminded you. “It was going ten miles an hour. What would Andy say?”

You had been rummaging through your closet and stopped in your tracks. With Peters new inhabitance in your mind, you had forgotten all about Andy. You moved to New York to avoid his wedding and his moving on, and you might’ve succeeded.

“I don’t care what he’d say.” You decided. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“But we want him to be.” Venom insisted. “We want him back, remember?”

“I don’t know what I want.” You answered honestly. “I just want to get ready for tonight.”

“Why are you getting ready now? You have 5 hours until you have to be there and it’s right across the hall.” Venom teased.

“Only 5 hours?” You sighed. “We better get moving.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x venom!reader #venom!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #iron man

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batsandbugs · 4 years

Text

The Great IKEA Game

Chapter 1 - Meet the Players

Marinette originally came to the IKEA an hour outside of Gotham to buy twinkle lights for her new living room. She eventually extended her trip into obtaining new dishes since all she had right now was empty takeout containers she kept rewashing. She would have been very content getting what she needed and being on her way, (no, she wasn't lonely Plagg, she had two dozen mini-gods to keep her company, shut up) but halfway between the bedding and lights sections, Marinette’s life changed forever.

For the better, if she was being honest.

She never would have realized it if she hadn’t ducked into a showroom to test out a couch. She settled against the fluffy folds, knowing it would be destroyed within minutes if she ever brought it home when she noticed him. A boy, no man, about her age, hiding behind a desk looking for all the world as if he were plotting world domination or someone’s demise.

They looked at each other in shock for a moment.

“Are… are you ok-”

“Shhh!” his green eyes narrowed, and boy, Marinette had been on the receiving end of death glares before, but this one had to take the cake.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

He rolled his eyes. “Do you see a group of dark-haired obnoxious idiots out there?” he asked.

The request was an odd one, but Marinette rose from the couch and glanced around outside of the showroom. She didn’t see anyone fitting his description. She shook her head.

He smirked. “My idiot older brothers dragged me along for a “family bonding experience”." He made the little quotation marks, and Marinette never thought anyone could look cool doing that, but somehow this person nailed it. "Tt. I’ve successfully avoided them for an hour. Didn’t know when the coast would be clear though.” He rose gracefully from the ground, looking all the more like a prince, rather than a crazy person hiding from his family.

It was absurd.

Marinette found herself instantly amused.

“I have friends exactly like that, I totally get it,” she said, thinking how Adrian would be beside himself when she told him the story later. The pang of loneliness that had been present since she’d left her friends in Paris, for college in America re-emerged. She shook her head of the maudlin thoughts.

The Kwamis would have had a field day with this idea too, thankfully she had left them in her severely under-furnished apartment for the day in order to avoid the squabbling that came with only taking a few of them out of the house.

Marinette looked back out at the hallway again, wondering if the man's brothers would soon appear, finding herself invested in what would happen. “What are you going to do now?”

“Well, Drake has the keys, and those idiots will be at their shenanigans till the store closes, so…” he shrugged.

“Are they like… furnishing a whole house?” Marinette didn’t know how you could spend an entire day here. Sure, it was big, but…

“No. We’re engaged in a no holds barred game of hide-and-seek.” Marinette’s mouth dropped open. “If one of them catches me I become the seeker.”

“Why?”

He smirked, “Because I’ve held out the longest.”

"No, I mean, why are you playing hide-and-seek?" It seemed an odd choice for a bunch of adults. Well, Marinette and her friends would do it. But they also willing became superheroes at the age of fourteen so their judgment was already in question.

He shrugged. "My oldest brother thought it would be fun, and our father is... out of town at the moment," he said with a bit of hesitation.

“So, you’re just going to hide in this showroom till the store closes?”

A devious smile spread across the man’s handsome features. “No. I intend to troll them. If Grayson wants my participation, I'm going to make him regret it.”

It was at that moment she crossed the point of no return, not that Marinette knew it yet.

Throwing away any idea of finishing her shopping today she returned his smirk. “Any chance I could join you in your crusade?”

The guy looked her over suspiciously. “Why should I allow a stranger to join me and potentially ruin my chances at victory?”

Marinette thought for a moment. “Well, your brothers know you well?” He nodded. “Then they likely know what you’ll do to avoid and troll them. You need a fresh perspective. Plus, I can operate out in the open, I’m not officially a part of the game.”

“Hmm...” his face was impassive; Marinette couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “You make some good points, but I’m not fully convinced.”

Marinette huffed, “I also grew up in Paris without being akumatized.”

He looked at her oddly. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Paris had a terrorist for five years that turned people into monsterized versions of themselves if they felt negative feelings. They were called Akuamas. Everyone in my class had it happen to them at least once. More for some particularly loose cannons.”

The guy looked bewildered. “Why didn’t anyone hear about this?”

Marinette shrugged, trying to play off her knowledge as what a normal civilian would know. “Combination of corrupt politicians, social media blackouts, and magic. People died during these attacks, but everything was put to rights at the end of every fight due to the superheroes powers.”

His mouth dropped, but he recovered quickly looking contemplative. “I want to know more about this at a later time, but if what you say is true you can control yourself better than the average peon. But my brothers and I are a combination of street orphans, circus brats, gymnastics freaks, and geniuses - are you sure you can keep up?”

Marinette nearly laughed at his description but managed to keep a straight face. “Positive.”

“Alright, I'll do whatever it takes to win.” He offered her his hand. “I’m Damian.”

She took it, feeling a slight shock as her fingers touched his. “I’m Marinette, nice to meet you, Damian.”

“You won’t be saying that soon enough,” he said with a slight smirk. He looked over her shoulder. “Shit.” He dove beneath the desk he’d been hiding behind earlier. “Tall guy with the white streak in his hair.” Marinette turned to look. “Don’t make it too obvious,” he hissed.

Marinette grabbed her phone and leaned against the desk. With small side glances, she saw a man probably mid to late twenties with two-toned hair. He wore a leather jacket and seemed to be searching for something, or someone.

“Who’s that?” she asked quietly.

“Second oldest brother, Jason Todd - arguably the most and least dangerous.”

“Why both?”

“He did not want to participate initially, so he’s reluctant, but at the same time, he hates losing. He’ll hang on to the bitter end. More resourceful than the other two, and more violent, although less sophisticated.”

Jason moved closer to their showroom.

“Hush, he’s headed this way,” she whispered. Damian remained quiet and Marinette tried to make herself look busy.

“Quick question miss?” Marinette glanced up from her phone. Jason stood at the entrance to the showroom.

“Oh, uh, oui? Non, non, I mean yes?” Marinette said in an exaggerated accent, playing into the oblivious tourist stereotype always came in handy.

“Oh French, shit, haven’t spoken that in a while,” he muttered. “Um...”

“Non, it iz okay, I speak English well. Can I help you?” She batted her eyes just a bit. Marinette had long since grown from the days of not using all her advantages - courtesy of forced confidence from Chole. A friendship no one had seen coming but had grown quick and strong once they reached an understanding.

“Oh, I’m looking for my little brother, about yay high, black hair, green eyes, permanent scowl. Have you seen him?”

Marinette pretended to think for a second. “Non... I do not theenk so, perhaps help desk at zee front?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Jason said, Marinette could see he had already written her off as useless. “Thanks, anyway.” He walked away quickly.

There was a minute of silence. “Coast is clear,” said Marinette once Jason was out of sight.

Damian popped up, a gleam in his eyes. “Your lying skills are adequate; we may just win this yet.”

“I’m glad to meet such high approval, monsieur. Let’s get going.”

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

#damian x marinette #maribat #maridami #ml x dc #mlb crossover #damimari #damianette #marinnette dupain cheng x damian wayne

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songficsbyrissi · 3 years

Text

You’re Mines Still (Erik X Reader)

“They say time heals She can't see her life without me, she's so blind still Fuck that nigga, you can tell him that you're mines still” - Yung Bleu feat. Drake

A/N: heyyyy y’all! Back from the dead again! 🤣 here to drop my shit and dip as always. I’m trying to stop that, I swear. Hennyways, I wanna put a disclaimer here: I have nothing against MBJ. I couldn’t care less about the nigga but I thought it’ll be interesting to have this nigga as the boyfriend, instead of making a character up in contrast to Erik. I think it’s perfect because I’m pretty sure they’re two completely different niggas. And I know “mines” isn’t proper English but I’m going with the title of the song so don’t start with me 😂😂😂 Aight imma let y’all read lol. Hope you enjoy it!

**************

You were doing it again.

You found yourself observing your boyfriend Michael, and comparing him to your ex, Erik. Right now, Michael came into the kitchen and gave you a swift kiss on the cheek to say good morning. It was sweet and nice but Erik would’ve grabbed you by the waist, pulled you in for a long, juicy kiss, followed by a smack on the ass. You found yourself low-key missing that, but you moved on so you had to let that go.

“Michael?”

“Yes, cookie?”

You held yourself back from rolling your eyes. It was a cute nickname, but ever since you told him your favorite dessert was chocolate chip cookies, here this nigga go, making it your nickname.

You shook your head. “Never mind.”

“You seem so distant, babe. What’s on your mind?” He asked from his seat at the table.

You avoided eye contact with him. “Nothing. I’ve just been tired.”

He snorted at this. “It’s because you work too much. I told you to chill.” He got up from the table and kissed you on the cheek. “Alright, I’ll see you later. I gotta go to the office.”

“Bye.” You said faintly as he walked out of the door. That was another thing. Erik could tell when something was bothering you and knew you avoided eye contact when you were lying. Michael just let anything you tell him slide. At this point, you could have a gunshot wound in your stomach and tell him you were fine and he’ll believe it.

You sighed deeply and got your things together so you could go back to your place. Michael asked you to move in with him, but you knew you weren’t ready for that. Not with him.

On your way to your apartment, you remembered you needed to do some grocery shopping, so you pulled up to the supermarket and pulled out your list of essentials on your notes app. The supermarket wasn’t too busy, thank God. You were able to weave back and forth through the aisles with ease. You got to the soup aisle and the broth you needed was all the way on the top shelf. You looked to the side to make sure no one would see you embarrass yourself. Before you could climb, a man’s arm reached up, grabbed the carton of broth, and handed it to you.

You smiled softly. “Thank you so much. I was about to embarrass myself climbing this shelf.”

“I could see that.” The man replied in a familiar voice that caused you to break your neck to look at him.

“Erik....” you breathed nervously once your eyes fell on him. He was still fine as always. The day you run into him, he would be wearing a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. An outfit that gets any girl’s faucet running. You wanted to sneak a glance, but you stopped yourself because you knew he would catch it.

He licked his bottom lip and looked you up and down. Damn him.

“Hey ma...it’s been a while.”

You nodded, looking down at your shopping cart. “Yeah, it has....”

“You still fine as hell.” Erik cracked a smirk and you were getting more and more nervous under his gaze. What the fuck is wrong with you?

You decided to breathe and ignore his statement. “How have you been, Erik?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, which something he always did when he was nervous. Holy shit, he was nervous around you. Why did that bring a pang of joy into your heart?

“I’ve been chilling. I'm still an architect. Still designing houses and getting people to buy them. It’s been aight. I’ve been successful.”

You gave him a genuine smile. “That’s good. I’m glad everything is going good in your career.”

“Yeah, it is. If only you were with me to see it all.”

You sighed deeply, shaking your head. “Erik-“

“I should’ve never let you go, Y/N. You were a good ass woman and you motivated me. I know I messed up but-“

“Erik, I’m kinda seeing someone else right now.” You spat out, preventing him from continuing the monologue he had going. He seemed taken aback by your outburst. Then came denial, anger, sadness, and acceptance all on his face.

“I’m sorry, Erik but I have a new boyfriend now. His name is Michael and he’s great. I figured you should know that.”

Erik let out a dry laugh in response and held his hands up in defense. “Yeah, you know what? I should’ve. A woman like you, of course, a nigga gonna snatch you up. That’s my fault. I hope he treats you well.”

“He does.” You swallowed hard and pushed your cart forward. “You take care of yourself, Erik. I’ll see you around.”

You didn’t wait for a reply. You just continued pushing until you heard his voice.

“You too, Princess.”

You stopped in your tracks for a bit, hearing that nickname for the first time in forever but you continued on your journey, refusing to look back at your ex.

You wrapped up your grocery store trip and went home. Even while you were cooking for your new man, Erik was still on your mind. You couldn’t help but think about all the times you had with him. One memory came back to you and you cringed. The night you two broke up.

“All you can think about are these damn houses! What about our house, Erik?!?!” You screamed coming closer to him, with your fists clenched. “What about all the shit you promised me?!”

“You’re still getting it, Princess! I promise!” He tried to pull you in a hug, but you pushed him away. All you saw was red. You didn’t want him touching you. You stuck a finger in his face.

“Bullshit! I’m tired of your empty-ass promises! I’m better than this! I’m better just being your damn girlfriend for all these years! It’s either you’re wanna be with me forever or you don’t! It’s that simple!”

Erik gathered up all the anger building to yell back. “No! It ain’t that simple! You just don’t get it.” Your angry demeanor softened at his words and you took a seat on the leather sofa. You wanted to cry because this shit was so fucking frustrating. You looked up at him with all the sincerity you could muster.

“Help me get it, Erik. Please. Because I just don’t.”

Erik took your trembling hands into his larger hands. “I just...I just don’t see myself as your husband right now. I got a lot of shit to work out before I can make that type of commitment to you, ma. I just need you to understand that and stick with me. I’m not saying it’s never going to happen. I’m just saying now’s not the right time.”

As much as you tried to prevent it, it happened. Tears were rolling down your cheeks. Erik began wiping them off, but you backed away.

“You keep saying that. When is the right time, huh? When?” You asked then sneered once you saw that once again, he couldn’t supply you an answer. “Just admit it, Erik. You don’t want to marry me. You don’t want to get a house with me, you don’t want to have kids with me. You don’t...” you swallowed hard, trying to find the strength to say this. “You don’t want forever with me. Now I get it.”

Erik shook his head vigorously as you rose from the sofa and he grabbed your hand. “No, baby girl! You’re not getting it! I love you! I love you so much! Please!”

You used your free hand to wipe some more of your tears. “You don’t love me the way I love you, Erik. I’ve been dying to be your wife, but you don’t want to be my husband. So I’m not gonna waste time with you when I can find someone who will.”

You released yourself from the grip he had on you, both figuratively and literally, and packed all your shit up. Despite the protests and guilt-tripping coming from Erik, you still made it your mission to get the fuck out of his apartment and get the fuck out of his life.

After mourning and healing from the loss of your long-term relationship, you met Michael. He was a nice man who looked similar to Erik but was completely different, personality-wise. Your friends noticed how much Michael looked like Erik, but they decided not to bring it up because they knew you would deny it. You were in denial, convinced it was all a coincidence. Deep down, you knew damn well he looked like Erik.

However, he was nothing like him and you thought that would work out in your favor. It didn’t.

You laid wide awake in Michael’s bed. He fell asleep after one round of sex and you were not satisfied. The sex was good, but one round??? Erik used to go at least 3 a night. Erik also would spoon, but Michael was turned away from you, snoring away. Your phone buzzed on your nightstand and you picked it up to see a text from your ex. You sat up in shock and opened it.

Erik:

Ik I shouldn’t b but I can’t stop thinkin bout u. I never stopped.

You took a deep breath and fixed your thumbs to respond.

You:

I’m with someone else, Erik. U gotta respect that.

Erik:

I do I just don’t like it. Can we at least be friends?

You contemplated your answer, then constructed a text back.

You:

Fine. We’ll be friends.

Erik:

With benefits? 👀

This caused you to stifle a laugh that would’ve been loud enough to wake up your boyfriend.

You:

Lmao no! Just friends, Erik.

Erik:

Lol I’ll take what I can get. Good night, Princess ❤️

After that last text, you were smiling yourself to sleep. It didn’t take long for Erik to invite you to group outings with mutual friends to eventually just you and him. It felt wrong but felt so right at the same time. You were alone in Michael’s apartment once again when Erik hit you up asking if you would like to see a house he built that was being pulled off the market. You agreed since you had nothing else to do. It’s just a house.

Needless to say, The house was gorgeous.

“Shittttt look at this fucking closet!” You cooed, entering the large walk-in closet in the master bedroom, and turned around to look at Erik with an enormous smile on your face. “Erik! You did that shit! This is my dream house! If I had the money, I would buy it right now!”

Erik chuckled with his arms folded. “It’s already bought, Princess.”

You scrunched up your face in disappointment as you stood against the marble island table in the middle of the room. “Ughh for real? I bet they don’t even like it like that!”

“Nah...I do.” He walked up to you slowly.

It didn’t click for your slow ass what he just said. “Of course you like it. You designed it.”

“Nah, we designed it.”

A record scratch went off in your head and you turned to see Erik right next to you. You gazed into his eyes to see an emotion you couldn’t describe. He saw confusion in yours.

“You ain’t noticed how this house is exactly your dream house? Everything you wanted in a house is right here. Baby girl, after you left me, all I could think about you and us and how I fucked us up. I was designing other houses and buildings, but there’s one that was most important to me that I never focused on and that was ours. I remembered our discussions and you didn’t know it, but I took notes of everything we wanted in a house. I finally had the motivation to get it designed, built, and bought.”

Erik built a house for you. He actually listened to you. Even when you thought he wasn’t, he was listening to every detail of what you wanted. You had so many questions to ask, but you were speechless. What were you supposed to say to this?

“I don’t want you to think I was on some creepy nigga shit because I wasn’t. It’s just that this design was gonna go to waste and I was going to let them sell it to the highest bidder, but I just couldn’t. This house was the last piece of you I had left. If I sold it, it was like me officially giving up on the possibility of us. I still had that hope. I’m a stupid ass nigga, I know.”

Your right hand grasped his left hand and he finally spared you a glance to see unshed tears in your eyes.

“I wanted this....from you....for so long. For so long! Why are you giving it to me now?! When I have someone else?!” You threw his hand out of frustration and exited the closet. You didn’t make it far. You just went into the master bedroom and cried your eyes out. You waited so long for this and he’s giving it to you now? When Michael was in the picture? Well, It’s too damn late.

Erik got on his knees and grasped your knees. You stared at him through the tears in your eyes.

“I know you’re building a life with this nigga, but stop. Stop that shit. You know he ain’t the one for you. Fuck that nigga. You’re mines still.” Erik was pleading with you. He began to shed a tear. Holy shit, he meant every word. “Baby, I’m on my knees. Take me back.”

Your ex began planting tender kisses on your knees and traveled up to your thighs, still holding you. Your heart raced at his actions, but you didn’t want him to stop. You missed him. You missed him so damn much. As much as you tried to lie to yourself, you still loved him.

“Erik, get up.”

He obeyed and you took his face in your hands, caressing the sides.

“You’re such a fucking manipulative motherfucker and I hate that I love you so fucking much.”

Erik took your hands into his and kissed the insides. “I ain’t trying to manipulate you, baby. I swear I’m not. I love you and I just wanted you to know that I heard you. You just wanted a nigga to show you that he was serious about you. I get it. While you were gone, I focused on myself and fixed myself because I admit I was dragging my ass with doing that while we were together. It was because I thought you were here to stay so I had all the time in the world to get my shit together. When you left, I saw that I was wrong. I was wrong as fuck.”

You didn’t say anything. You just let him keep talking.

“I love you, baby. All I’m asking for is a second chance to make this right, but if you say no, I’ll sell this house and leave you alone for good. I swear on my Pops’ grave, I’ll leave you the fuck alone, Y/N.” His words were so heartfelt. “I don’t wanna go unless you make me.”

You were hyperventilating through your tears, then a smile formed across your face. “Erik, I love you. I love you so much, baby.”

Erik tackled you with frequent kisses on your lips and it turned into a whole passionate make-out session. He planted kisses all over your neck while he unbuttoned your blouse and you could feel his hard dick through his pants.

“Fuck. I missed this. I missed us.” You breathed when his lips met yours, once again.

“I missed us too, baby.” Erik rested his forehead against yours and stared into your eyes with so much love. “Be my wife.”

You backed away from him and furrowed your eyebrows. “What?”

“You heard me. Marry me, baby. I don’t wanna waste any more time.” He saw the look on your face and his joyful expression turned somber. “You don’t want to marry me?”

You shook your head. “It’s not that, Erik. I always wanted to but just because we getting back together doesn’t mean I wanna rush into a marriage. We gotta fix us first. We can’t even fix us right now because I still have to break up with Michael.”

Erik put a hand through his hands and blew air out of his mouth. “You right.”

“And the way you asked sucked.” You deadpanned but found yourself laughing afterward and he face palmed himself. “Seriously? After all this time, I deserve a better proposal than that.”

Erik chuckled and placed a soft kiss on your lips. “You right. Once again. Imma do better.”

And when he said he would do better, you knew he wasn’t just talking about the proposal.

“You better. I ain’t giving you a third chance. This ain’t baseball!”

This caused him to guffaw, pull you into a tight, loving embrace, and kissed you once again. He had a grin on his face that rivaled the Cheshire cat.

“You’re mines still,” Erik said as a statement and a question.

“Yep. I never stopped being yours, baby boy.”

TAGS: @lifelover4u @dessianna1 @brattywriters-anonymous @marvelmaree @purple-apricots @blackpinup22 @ljstraightnochaser @slimmiyagi @cancerianprincess @iamrheaspeaks @blowmymbackout @vibranium-chakra @nerd-lovely @chaneajoyyy @ohliyaxoxo @chefjessypooh @yourfavoritefavorite @airis-paris14 @ljstraightnochaser @quietstorm-73 @msincognito67 @sociallyawkward18 @mychemicalimagines @nerd-lovely @marvelpotterlove @destinio1 @madamslayyy @thehomierobbstark @fd-writes @semianta @raysunshine78 @lifelover4u @dessianna1 @brattywriters-anonymous @marvelpotterlove @guccixcucci @blackpinup22 @ljstraightnochaser @slimmiyagi @cancerianprincess @iamrheaspeaks @blowmymbackout @vibranium-chakra @nerd-lovely @chaneajoyyy @ohliyaxoxo @chefjessypooh @yourfavoritefavorite @airis-paris14 @ljstraightnochaser @quietstorm-73 @msincognito67 @sociallyawkward18 @mychemicalimagines @nerd-lovely @marvelpotterlove @destinio1 @madamslayyy @thehomierobbstark @fd-writes @semianta @raysunshine78 @fd-writes @rbhp @fandom-fangirl22 @bigchoose

(Sorry if you got double tagged or I missed you. I need to get my tags together I know )

#Erik Stevens #Erik Killmonger #erik killmonger fic #erik x reader #erik killmonger x you #erik killmonger fanfic #Erik killmonger fanfiction #Erik killmonger x black reader #erik kilmonger x reader #erik killmonger fanfiction #Erik killmonger fluff #you're mines still #black panther #black panther imagine #black panther fic #black panther fanfiction #black panther fanfic

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walkerismychoice · 3 years

Text

Queen of My Heart - Chapter 36

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake X MC, Liam X Olivia, Hana X OC Lydia

Rating: NSFW (I didn’t intend it but it just happened

Summary: Liam finally clears the air with Constantine, and we go to the Fire and Ice Ball at Lythikos, the final social season even before Liam chooses his future Queen.

A/N: Umm, I don’t even want to know how many years it’s been since I updated, but it is with the encouragement of you readers that I was compelled to finish. My tag list is probably way outdated and I’m sure I’ve missed some poeple who’ve asked to be tagged along the way. Feel free to let me know either way if you want to be tagged or removed from the list.

Tag List: @khakie4 @dreadpirateemma @ritachacha @blackcoffee85 @choices-fanatic @boneandfur @butindeed @simplyaiden-blog @bobasheebaby @traeumerinsworld @theroyalweisme @umccall71 @lizeboredom @debramcg1106 @enmchoices @jadedpixiescribbles @withice @viktoriapetit @mfackenthal @drakesfiance @drakelover78 @speedyoperarascalparty @silviasutton1989 @krisnicjack @devineinterventions2 @choiceswreckedme @notoriouscs @blackcatkita @hamalu @akrenich @drakewalkerfantasy @jamielea81 @andy-loves-corgis @jlouise88 @jovialyouthmusic @sleepwalkingelite @i-miss-trr @dragonball-luver @gkittylove99 @lovingchoices14

Word Count: 2861

Queen of My Heart Chapter Index

“Hello, Father.” Liam greeted Constantine as he walked into the hospital room. He noted the King's color was back to normal and he seemed in good spirits.

"My son, I knew you'd come!" Constantine reached towards Liam with arms outstretched.

Liam just shook his head and held up a hand to stop him. "This is not that kind of visit. I'm here because I know... I know everything."

"What-" Constantine choked out before a coughing fit ensued.

Liam fought the instinctual urge to comfort his father. "Enough with the theatrics. I know about Madeleine...about you threatening the show if they didn't help her win...as if me choosing the woman I plan to spend my life with is some political game to be won."

"How did you find out? I gave strict orders that my demands were confidential."

Liam scoffed. "Seriously? I just told you I found out you tried to have the producers manipulate me into marrying a woman I don't love, and that's all you had to say for yourself?"

"You have to understand," Constantine pleaded. "Madeleine is what's best for Cordonia, and what's best for Cordonia is what's best for you."

"Unbelievable!" Liam felt the anger rising in his chest like a simmering pot ready to boil over. "You may have told yourself that to feel better about choosing your commitments to Cordonia over happiness, love, family... Maybe you’ve lied to yourself for so long you’ve actually started to believe it, but it's one hundred percent bullshit. I know I'll be a more effective leader if I get to choose the woman I want by my side, and that woman is Olivia."

Constantine's jaw dropped and there was a long pause before he gained his composure to protest. "Absolutely not. You know her family's history. I'd rather have you on the same page as me, but I am still King-"

"Save your breath," Liam shut him down. "You should know that your perfect candidate Madeleine has displayed some behavior quite unbecoming of a future queen, and it is all on film. I know Cordonians are generally flexible with their views on monogamy, but I don't think Madeleine sleeping with the host of the show while she's trying to compete for my affection will look good in anyone's eyes. She has been eliminated from the show and is no longer in the running. That leaves only Riley aside from Olivia, and I know you know what's going on there."

Constantine's face fell momentarily in resignation, but then he perked back up again. "Well, then you can bring back someone else. Kiara is quite lovely and is fit to play the part."

"Enough!" Liam practically shouted much too loud for the thin hospital walls. "Not that I owe you an explanation, but Olivia is stronger, smarter, and more capable of ruling a country than anyone you could hope to pair with me. You seem to forget that I am the son who stuck by you and am now the rightful and only heir to the throne. Your reign is coming to an end, and you have no choice but to accept my decision."

Unexpectedly, Constantine's demeanor changed, a sly grin creeping across his face. "My boy, I've always been a bit worried you were too soft to be king. However, seeing you stand up for yourself today gives me hope. I still don't approve of your choice, but I will no longer stand in your way."

Liam shook his head and let out an incredulous laugh, reeling from Constantine’s sudden change of course. "Bastien will take you back to the palace. We can talk more when I know it's not just the medicine that's gotten to your head."

-----

“Well, this place certainly explains a lot about Olivia.” Riley mused aloud as she scanned the ballroom. Ornate floor to ceiling windows with deep alcoves were surrounded by walls with intricate, gilded accents leading up to a hand-painted ceiling measuring at least 3 stories high. The grandeur of the space was both intimidating and beautiful at the same time, much like its owner.

“Has she shown you all the toys in her armory yet? That too says a lot about Olivia," Drake chuckled at his own joke.

Riley laughed along. “No, but she does constantly remind me she keeps a dagger hidden under her skirt. Are you sure Liam knows what he’s in for?”

"Heh. Better him than me, that's for sure. Liam's warm and fuzzy exterior can make him seem like a pushover, but he can hold his own when it matters. Olivia needs someone who can roll with her mood swings but still call her on her bullshit when needed."

"You know, I admit I had a little trouble wrapping my brain around Liam choosing Olivia, but when you put it that way, it makes sense. Now I suppose I need to find Kat so I can figure out if I need to dance with Liam or something. Ugh, I cannot wait until all these balls are over.

Drake almost doubled over laughing. "Oh, Bennett, I hate to break it to you, but this shit never ends. Next will be the coronation, then some charity gala, Liam's wedding...the list goes on. Welcome to your life as a noble woman."

Riley stared ahead blankly as a giant wave of realization washed over her. It was all so much, so fast. She'd never had time to think past the next day to consider this was all ending soon, and then what? Did she stay with her new-found family and live this life that was still foreign to her in so many ways? What about her life in New York? Sure, she didn't have much going on at the moment, but she still had her aunt Susan and best friend Sarah along with some good friends at work like Daniel. Becoming a therapist was still one of her goals, at least it was until the day she left for Cordonia. Now everything was so unclear, and she could hardly breathe.

Drake must have noticed her face looking some kind of way because he placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her to an open doorway to a nearby balcony. "Why don't we get you some air before you go off and do your thing for the show?"

Once outside and around the corner of the wraparound balcony, Drake pulled Riley into his chest, holding her securely, and she was almost instantly calmed. All the what-ifs fell away, and it was just them. All she needed was the be with him, wherever that turned out to be, and everything else would fall into place.

But what if Drake didn't quite feel the same? They'd been talking as if they'd be together indefinitely, but in reality, they'd only known each other two months. The anxious fluttering in her chest started up again.

Drake pulled back to look her in the eyes. "Riley, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. You know, we're both still half American. We can move back to the states....or uh, I mean you can move back to the states if that's what you want." His eyes darted bashfully to the ground.

Riley's face lit up, the nervous thumping in her chest giving way to excited butterflies. "I like the sound of 'we' better if that's what you really meant. You'd really move back to the U.S. with me? I mean I've hardly had the chance to think about what I want, so that may be irrelevant, but you seriously see a future with me?"

"I do." Drake smiled earnestly. "I'm sure anyone who knows me will think I've gone mad, but whether it means being in New York City and putting up with cramped apartments and way too many people, living a quieter, simple life in Texas, or stealing moments away at dreadful Cordonian events such as this, I know we can make our own happiness...together."

"Wow, the Drake Walker I met two months ago would not believe what's coming out of your mouth right now." Riley touched the back of her hand to Drake's forehead in jest. "Are you sure you aren't running a fever?"

"Haha, very funny." Drake swiftly but gently pushed Riley back again the stone wall. "I'm not feeling ill, but I know how to make your temperature rise.

"You pushing me against duchy walls is becoming a thing, huh? Must have really enjoyed the almost public sex last time."

"Possibly," Drake teased as he slipped his hand through the side-slit in her icy-blue gown, gently gliding his fingers up her thigh. Riley braced herself as Drake neared the place she wanted him the most. Goosebumps gave way to a burning need before she remembered where they were.

"Wait." She pushed a hand against his chest. "We're not exactly alone here, and we've gone to such lengths to keep this under wraps. Someone could walk out here at any moment."

Drake shrugged. "I know it may be a bit reckless, but honestly at this point, I don't care. I just want you."

Riley opened her mouth to protest but nothing came out before Drake swooped in for a searing kiss. She instantly melted into him, Drake continuing his earlier action and deftly plunging two fingers inside her, his eyes widening slightly in surprise when he noticed there was no fabric barrier to work around. A strangled moan escaped Riley's throat as he stroked the exact spot he knew always left her at his mercy.

Drake pulled back with a satisfied grin. "Do you want me to stop? Just say the word and we'll go back in right now."

Instead of answering, Riley yanked him by the collar and crushed her lips to his. Drake responded by hoisting her up and over to the balcony. He perched her atop the railing, one hand grasped firmly around her waist and the other making quick work of undoing his pants.

Teetering on the narrow ledge two stories high, Riley clamped her hand tightly to the railing on either side of her and Drake noticed. "I've got you Bennett, no need to worry. I won't let anything happen to you. I'm just doing my job after all," he said with a smirk.

She smiled at his reference to what was now an inside joke between them. But all joking aside, he always made her feel safe. She released her grip, flinging her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

Drake eased his cock free and Riley could tell how hard he was just by sight, the skin stretched taught from his perfect proportion of thickness and length. He lifted her dress and she couldn't wait any longer. She pulled him in and he took the invitation to thrust inside her. Even as wet was she was, his size created just the right amount of fullness and friction to take her breath away.

Riley moaned and gasped with each thrust, which in turn seemed to turn Drake on even more. The thrill of being up so high with nothing but him to hold her only added to her excitement and when he began rubbing circles over her clit with his thumb that was all it took to push her figuratively over the edge. She tightened around him everywhere, her orgasm eliciting immense heat and pleasure with every pulse, resulting in Drake picking up his pace until his own release followed shortly thereafter.

Drake carefully set Riley down before putting himself back together. "I'm almost a little disappointed we didn't nearly get caught this time."

"If I don't get back in there immediately, that's still a possibility." Riley had no idea how much time had passed but it was probably more than she thought. "Fuck, Kat is going to be pissed." Riley straightened her skirt and started towards the ballroom door.

"Wait!" Drake puller her in for a quick kiss. "I love you. Just so you don't forget."

Riley rolled her eyes but smiled. "You know you have nothing to worry about. If Liam's charms haven't wooed me yet, I think you’re safe. But I love you too. Now go do your job." She smacked him on the ass before hustling back to the ballroom, Drake following shortly thereafter.

As expected, Kat was frantic when Riley found her. “Where the fuck were you? You were supposed to meet up with me twenty minutes ago?”

Overhearing Riley’s scolding, Olivia smugly sidled up next to them. “I mean, I didn’t mind getting extra time with Liam, but you know Jo and Kat and there ‘ratings’, Olivia said while gesturing with air quotes. She scanned Riley from head to toe and then glanced over to Drake on the perimeter. “Ugh, I can tell you exactly what, or rather who she was doing. Gross. I guess that just makes my position more secure, but really, couldn’t you have waited until after my ball to fuck him?”

Riley sheepishly smoothed her hair and adjusted her dress. “I just needed some air, that’s all. I was having a moment.”

Olivia scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever you want to call it. Although I still cannot fathom why you chose Drake, I suppose I should be a little easier on you for eliminating yourself from the competition and allowing Liam to break free of his distraction of the shiny new object.”

“Aww, Olivia, that’s so sweet. Next thing you know we’ll be best friends,” Riley replied sarcastically.

“I don’t know about friends...but I do dislike you less than the rest of them.” Olivia tried and failed to hold back a smile.

“I’ll take it,” Riley said with a laugh before turning to Jo. “Okay, now tell me where I need to be.”

Jo set Riley up with Liam on the dance floor. It still wasn’t hard to pretend to be into Liam because it wasn’t all pretend, but there was no lingering pining between them.

“Well, I spoke to my father this morning.” Liam spun Riley around and brought her back to face him.

“Finally!” Riley exclaimed. “How did that go?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around it to be completely honest, but it went surprisingly well. I told him I knew everything, and he no longer had a say in my decision. He tried to argue with me at first, but somehow something I said made him respect me. He still may not agree with my choice, but I think this is finally all over! I am free to choose who I want without any threat or blackmail hanging over my head.

Riley pulled Liam in and hugged him tightly. “That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you, and for all of us.” The weight on Riley’s shoulders was suddenly ten times lighter. She hadn’t let herself think too deeply about how much was at stake, but now that the air was clear, she realized how stressed she had been. “Now all that’s left is for you to tear my heart to pieces on national television, and you get your fairy tale ending.”

Liam chuckled. “I’ll try to let you down easy.”

-----

Drake stood in his usual position off the side of the dance floor. This may not be the last of these events he’d have to endure, but at least it should be the last time he’d have to stand on the sidelines watching Riley dance with someone else. He was secure in what they had, but it still didn’t stop that twinge of jealously seeing her and Liam together talking, touching, and having fun. But it wasn’t a bad thing that his best friend and girlfriend get along so well. Girlfriend...that’s the first time he’d used that term for anyone he’d “dated”, even if only in his head. It was hard to believe everything was falling into place.

Drake took his eyes off Riley to scan the perimeter. What he saw didn’t immediately register as out of the ordinary, but then he quickly recalled this person walking towards the dance floor wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Bastien, check out three o’clock.” Drake altered Bastien via his radio earpiece. “How did she get in here without security clearance?”

“I don’t know.” Bastien replied. “I’ll check with the other guys to see who let her in. Keep an eye on her.”

Drake watched in concern as Madeleine marched towards the dance floor. She’d been banned from the rest of filmed events after her stunt. Not wanting to let her cause a scene, Drake was about to stop her from getting any closer, when she pulled out an unmistakable object. She had a gun and it was pointed right at Riley and Liam.

Before Drake could alert the rest of the team, people started to scatter. He heard a familiar click and knew he had to disarm Madeleine immediately, but it was too late. A shot went off and he didn’t hesitate. Drake dove between the bullet and his two best friends on the dance floor, and that would be the last thing he remembered before he hit the floor.

#QOMH #TRR #drake x mc #ns*fw #playchoices fanfiction #the royal romance #my fic

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therealjordan23 · 3 years

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So, a recent question people have been asking me is whether Scrooge deserves to be called dad.

Fuck no.

Scrooge McDuck doesn't deserve an ounce of title "dad", especially when he's competing against characters like Drake, and more importantly, Donald. These 2 characters have proved to be more of a dad than Scrooge will ever be.

In the beginning of the series, we see Donald already taking on more responsibility as a parent than Della and Scrooge combined. Donald actively believed that their adventuring days have come to an end, as there is a brand new adventure waiting for them, which are Huey, Dewey, and Louie. When he caught wind of Della’s desire to go up into space, while 3 boys were on the way, he told her not to.

Scrooge clearly didn't understand how severe the situation was, he didn't have that parental instinct. He played the, 'fun uncle' role, and it never went beyond that, even though he was the guardian of Donald and Della from a young age, along with HDL. This is what tempted him to build the rocket in the first place.

You can be someone's "biological parent", but it doesn't necessarily mean that you're their "parent". Personally speaking, my dad wasn't around when I was a kid, and I never considered him to be my parent, until he stepped up and actively took on that role. And even in the show, that's Della’s whole arc! In Season 2, Louie doesn't consider her to be his "mom", until she stepped up to become a proper parent. More on this later, though.

Scrooge didn't actively do anything to earn the title, "dad", he truly didn't. And that's the difference between him and Della, she actually put in the effort.

This is why Beakley has earned the title of a parent.

This is why Donald has earned the title of a parent.

This is why Della herself, (even though I have made it clear multiple times that she's not my favourite, sorry Delly) has earned the title of a parent.

This is why Drake has earned the title of a parent.

Frank himself has made it clear several times that Donald is considered to be Huey, Dewey, and Louie's dad, even though he's not their biological father, but that's the point. It's through Donald's actions that we see that, "Okay, he's a dad, he's earned it."

Donald sacrificed so much to become a parent: he sacrificed a lavish life at a mansion so he could get away from the man who effectively took away their mother, he gave up what would've been his prime time to get his life going: if Donald and Della are canonically 36 in the series, and Della has been gone for 10 years by the time the pilot aired, it would mean Donald was at least 26 years old when he took the boys. Please note that it was confirmed that Donald's been living in the manor since he was at least 12-13 (I'm basing this off of seeing him in Last Christmas, I could be wrong).

So we have a fresh 26 year old, who has left his place of comfort and financial stability since he was 12 or 13. He has given up the lifestyle he was used to. And as if that doesn't sound bad on its own, he had 3 kids to raise, because he believes that their mother is dead.

26 shouldn't be when you scramble to find a home, find a job, and on top of that, raise 3 kids! 26 should be a time where you're just starting to figure things out, slowly easing into ideas like marriage, a full time job, and then maybe having kids. (These aren't my personal beliefs, I literally Googled what 26 year olds should be doing, and this came up)

**obviously I don't speak for everyone, there are certain factors that affect these 'common beliefs' at what you should be doing at a certain age**

Anyway. I have barely listed what Donald has done for these boys who haven't even been born yet. Donald has done so much more at the age of 26, than Scrooge has done in his 153 years. So, I can say with full confidence, he has earned the title Dad.

And then there's Scrooge.

It's truly insulting: when you see what truly makes a parent a parent, compared with the 30 seconds of Webby calling Scrooge dad? It completely brushes aside Donald's efforts of being a parent.

He didn't earn it. He never did anything to earn that title. @moonstoneflowers, @l-thefriendlyghost, and @dellyduck said it best: the overprotectiveness we see once it's revealed that he was Webby's 'father'? It's disgusting that he acted like that after he knew that Webby was his 'daughter'. He didn't care about Huey, Dewey, and Louie, or Della and Donald. He only did that because he felt obligated to be Webby's 'dad'.

"When you look at someone through rose-coloured glasses, all the red flags just look like flags."

—Wanda Pierce to BoJack Horseman

This quote totally applies to Scrooge. I mean, his name is literally Scrooge, he's designed to be a generally unlikable character and person. We see traits and toxic behavior that we brushed aside until now: when the show has ended, and we're forced to analyze it.

A great example of this is in Timephoon, where we can actively see where Scrooge and Della finally show their true colours. It's at the end, where the family is reunited, and Louie gives his half-ass apology.

Scrooge is completely okay with the fact that Louie almost destroyed space.

"I'm sure you've learned… something."

—Scrooge McDuck to Louie Duck in Timephoon!

You are the adult in the situation sir. I'm not even counting Launchpad as an adult here, he is a literal manchild. And even though Beakley is just as much to be blamed here, she spent the episode convincing Della to be a little stricter and discipline her kids better. She knew where to cross the line, and the only reason that Beakley agreed to forgive Louie was because she assumed Della wasn't taking it seriously.

"No… not this time."

—Della Duck to Louie Duck in Timephoon

I’ve had my problems with this, but even I can confidentally tell you that this marked the moment where Della Duck earned the title of a parent, while Scrooge was clearly about to forgive Louie for a literal crime he committed, and was really about to let Louie go off scot free.

And I personally find that alarming. If us adults didn't catch these red flags the second we watched the show itself, what about the kids? You know, the actual demographic it's aimed towards?

Another issue that I'm happy @moonstoneflowers brought up was the fact that Frank said Webby had to "earn" her place in the family?

She is a child, sir. She shouldn't have that mindset at the age of 10-12. A person who should have to earn their place in the family is an adult like Della. She went out for a joyride in space, but she actively regretted that decision, and immediately sought out to fix things with her family and kids. She changed for the better.

Scrooge? He makes things so that they revolve around him, and makes it so that he doesn't have to change for anyone. He makes things work in his favour.

The sad part that @dellyduck brought up is that Donald, and let's be real, 99% of his problems exist because of Scrooge, is the one who has to deal with them! He isn't a fucking mop! He isn't here to clean up your shit! This man is the only functional parent, and Scrooge uses that to his advantage by shoving all of his problems onto Donald.

He didn't deserve his ending, goddammit. Scrooge McDuck will never be considered a father. He can be biologically related to Webby, sure, but please don't strip away what truly makes a parent a parent, and apply it to someone who has never made an effort to change to become a proper guardian.

#ducktales #scrooge mcduck #webby vanderquack #timephoon #bentina beakley #della duck #donald duck #drake mallard #frank angones #huey duck #dewey duck #louie duck #the last adventure #spoilers?#it's been a good 3 weeks #i think we're good

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empower-bi-women · 4 years

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Hi! In case you write for Tim Drake, I’d love if you could write a smut in which Tim and the reader have known each other for long and the sexual tension is obvious but none of them ever acted upon it until now. Thank you very much.

That pesky sexual tension

Summery: Hi! In case you write for Tim Drake, I’d love if you could write a smut in which Tim and the reader have known each other for long and the sexual tension is obvious but none of them ever acted upon it until now. Thank you very much.

Warnings: SMUT so if you’re not 18 begone thot, spanking, teasing, dirty talk, cheesy writing?

A/N: I tried to be a little more cute with this one so let me know what you think. And to the anon who requested this I’m sorry it took so long I hope you like it! Also this is my first ask!! So sorry if the format is a little strange I’m still trying to figure it out.

Word count: 3041

“Timothy Drake, I swear to god give me back my book!” you chased him into the kitchen where he ran to the other side of the counter.

“Why don't you come over here and make me.” He replied with a teasing smile on his face. You lunged forward across the cold counter top to reach for your book. He laughed at your struggle “Come on Y/N you know you never won a fight against me without someone helping you.”

Shit he had a point you thought, everyone else was out at the store. You gave up, sitting on the counter with you back to him and pouted. Arms crossed looking towards the open door. Laughing he walked over to face you.

“Aw come on I was just teasing.” he put his arms down on either side of you, trapping you in but you refused to look at him. “Come on look at me,” he leaned down to try and catch your gaze but you just moved your head. “Y/N?” he looked at you with wide eyes before they narrowed, “Y/N look at me.” His voice dropped into that commanding tone he used on patrol. You couldn’t help but look up to meet those blue eyes that bore into yours. The silence in the room was deafening. He leaned in closer and closer until your breath was his. Noses almost brushing. Lips almost touching. He glanced down at your lips.

The kitchen door burst open causing the two of you to jump apart as the rest of the boys walked in carrying grocery bags, chatting loudly. Dick and Jason froze in the doorway causing Damian to bump into them from behind.

“Now what do we have here?” Jason asked in a teasing voice.

“Nothing. Did you get my coffee?” Tim said, his voice back to normal.

“Did you put it on the list?” Dick asked, shooting you a strange look as you hopped off the counter, “what were you guys doing in here anyway?”

“Tim took my book right out of my hands so I had to get it back.” You replied.

“Damn I thought you were finally resolving that pesky sexual tension.” Jason said through a mouth full of marshmallows.

“Jason!” You, Tim, and Dick all yelled out.

“What! This has been going on for way too long. We were all thinking it” He tried to defend himself.

“We most certainly were not Master Jason,” Alfred came to save the day, “and please refrain from eating all the food before it's even put away.”

He grumbled before putting the bag away. You snached your book away from Tim before walking into the living room to finish reading.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Come on please Y/N just look it up! It won’t even take five minutes.” Tim pleaded with you, hiding a smile on his face.

“I thought you were the computer wiz, do it yourself.” You replied, not looking at him. He grabbed the back of your chair and spun you to face him. Kneeling down he looked in your eyes. “Please?” his voice was barely above a whisper as he leaned in closer, “for me?”

Your cheeks heated up. “I’m busy right now, go ask someone else.”

“Ok can you just check this one thing please?”

“Out!” You spun your chair away from him but he still leaned down and pressed a kiss to your head before walking away. You shook your head trying to clear the thoughts running through your head of the way his forearms flexed as he gripped the chair arms. The way his bright blue eyes looked like they wanted to devour you whole. Ugh this man is going to kill me you thought.

--------------------------------------------------------

That night you were working comms with Barbara in the cave. Things were going smoothly until Tim called in.

“Hey Oracle, hey angel, can you guys find out who that guy over there is and what he's doing please and thank you.” Your eyes went wide at the nickname he gave you. You could see Barbara looking at you out of the corner of your eye and heard Jason and Dick laughing though the comms. You ignored them as your fingers flew across the keyboard as facial rec worked its magic.

“His name is Jimmy Figgis. He’s fresh out of bellrev, he was in for drug dealing and black mail.” You said into the comms.

“Well it would be a shame if he got caught red handed doing a deal. He would go back to jail.” Barbara chimed in.

“Looks like we got a stake out boys.” Dick said.

“It's ok guys, I can stay for the drop.” Tim said, his voice low as he settled in for the night, “I'll have Y/N to keep me company, right angel?”

“I mean it's not like I have a choice do I.”

Not even half an hour later Tim started to get bored. And his target was you. Barbara had to leave to take care of some other stuff so you were alone. Tim decided it would be a good idea to switch frequencies and mess with you.

“Hey Y/N, have you ever thought about us while touching yourself?”

You spat out your coffee. “What the fuck Timothy!” You heard his laughter on the other side of the line.

“Well I'm just asking because I know for a fact that Dick thinks of Babs and Jason thinks of Diana sometimes but he would never admit it. And I got curious. Who do you think of?”

You could practically hear the smile in his voice. “Wouldn't you like to know. You really should focus on the stake out instead of my masturbation habits.”

“Aw angel I can almost see you blushing from here. You look adorable.”

“Shut up Tim.”

“Have I ever told you how much I love hearing you say my name? It sounds so sweet I can almost imagine what you would sound like screaming it underneath me.”

You froze. You and Tim had always had a flirtatious relationship but this was a new level entirely. This was dangerous territory. “Don't start things you can't finish Timothy.” Your voice was low.

“Oh believe me angel I always finish. And I make sure my partner does too.”

You threw your head back in frustration. “Focus on the stake out and we can continue this later.”

“Is that a promise?”

Before you could reply Bruce’s voice crackled through the comms “Red Robin we’re coming to you.”

-------------------------------------------------------------

A few arrests and fight later the bats rolled into the cave. Alfred was on standby with the medical kit but there was no need. You shifted uncomfortably as Tim’s eyes raked over your body, pausing on your legs that were squeezed together, trying and failing to give you relief from the ache in your pussy. He smirked at the site of you waiting for him, all needy.

“Good job tonight guys. Shower and get some sleep,” Bruce said, taking his cowl off, “I’m looking at you Tim.”

Tim just smiled. You both knew there would be no sleeping tonight. Tim walked over to you, his cowl was off and his dark hair was messy. Fuck he looked good you thought to yourself. The look on his face was calm but you could see something in his eyes. All the years you've known him, you had never seen this look in his eyes. It was dark and lit a fire inside you.

“Do you still want to do this? Because once we start, I'm not stopping.” his blue eyes stared into yours.

“I believe I have a promise to fulfill.”

He gave you a wicked smile. “I want you upstairs in my room, ten minutes. And no touching yourself.” He tapped your thighs that were pressed together before walking away.

-------------------------------------------------------

Your head was a mess by the time you headed up to Tim’s room. You had bid goodnight to the rest of the boys when your phone chimed. Tim had sent you a picture from the shower. Towel low on his hips showing off his v line, water droplets glistening off his abs, and the way his hand gripped his phone showed off all the muscles and veins in his arms. The wetness between your legs grew with every step towards his room. You knocked on his door, the loud sound of your knuckles against the wood echoed throughout the hallway.

“Come in.” His voice was muffled by the door. You walked in to find him sitting on a chair across from the bed in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants. “Lock the door.” His voice was low and commanding, not unlike that day in the kitchen. That same electric energy that you felt then was in the room, now magnified by 100.

“I'm going to ask you one more time, are you sure you want this?”

“Yes Tim I’m sure.”

“Good girl,” the praise sent shivers down your spine, “Take off your clothes and lay down on the bed.” Your heart was beating out of your chest as you slowly took your shirt off. “I don't recommend teasing me angel, it won't work out well for you.” You just smiled as you turned around, taking your pants off while wiggling your ass tauntingly. You didn’t even hear him move before you felt a sharp pain across your backside. You moaned at the contact.

“Aw does my little angel like pain?” he questioned mockingly before coming down on you again, “I asked you a question Y/N, I expect and answer.”

“Yes sir.” You heard him laugh behind you. He wrapped his hand in your hair and pulled you up against his warm chest. “Well isn't that a nice surprise. I always knew you had a thing for authority.” His voice was low in your ear. Your head went back to rest on his shoulder as he kissed his way down your neck, sucking and biting the skin there. His movements against your body are slow and calculating. Tim always seemed gentle and calm but the truth is that no one knows how he respresed his emotions, and his needs. But tonight he was going to take whatever he wanted. And you would let him.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” His hands caressed your skin.

“I’m sorry sir.”

“Sorry for what?”

You took a shallow breath. He was really going to make you work tonight. “For teasing you.”

He turned you around to face him. “Such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” He said softly, brushing your hair out of your face, before kissing your lips gently. Looking into his eyes you could never tell what he was thinking. His face was calm and passive. That is until he let go. And you would do whatever it takes to see him lose control. Even if that meant misbehaving.

“Get on the bed for me angel.” he kissed your forehead before turning his back on you but you didn’t move. He grabbed a red tie from his desk and turned around, his eyes widening at the sight of you still standing there. “Did you not hear me?” He raised his eyebrows at you, “I said, get on the bed. Now.”

You could see the annoyance in his eyes. He was starting to slip, you wouldn’t stop now.

“Make me.”

Those two words lit a fire in him. He picked you up easily and threw you onto the bed with such force that you bounced. “I told you not to tease me angel.” He growled as he crawled towards you on the bed. He grabbed your ankle and pulled you towards him so he was hovering over you, arm placed next to your head. His hot breath hit your face. “You were being so good angel, what happened? Why are you being a brat now.”

You whimpered at his words. His hand slipped down to your panties and rubbed a finger up and down your slit ever so lightly.

“Tim please.” You begged him. A sharp smack to your thigh brought you out of your daze.

“I'm sorry, what was that?” his voice has a dangerous edge to it. His eyes were wild, “that not what you're calling me tonight, is it.”

“Sir, please! Please touch me, I need it.” You pleaded with him. He rolled his hips into yours, putting pressure where you needed him most.

“Will you listen to me now?”

“Yes anything you say.” You replied, needing to feel him closer.

He moved in to kiss you, stopping just before your lips touched. You moved up trying to close the distance but his hand was quick around your throat, forcing you back down. “I'm going to eat this pretty little pussy,” he murmured, “I want you to stay still and you must ask for permission before you cum. Understood?”

You nodded, desperate for anything he would give you. He removed his hand from your neck and kissed his way down your body to your soaked panties. His rough hands spread your thighs open, leaving a wet kiss on both before pressing a kiss to your clothed clit. You shifted your hips up, trying desperately to get more stimulation. His arm trapped your hips down.

“Now angel, what did I tell you about moving?” He moved away from where you needed him most.

“I’m sorry sir, please I need you.” You looked at him with desperate eyes.

“All these years I’ve known you, you've always been a tease to me. Whether you knew it or not. I've been waiting for so long for this, I’m going to take my sweet time,” he growled, “you can lay there and shut up, it's my turn to tease you now Y/N.”

He dove back in and licked a long stripe over your panties. Heat washed over your body as you felt your pussy gush at his actions. He slowly pulled them off your body leaving kisses down your legs. Leaving hickeys on your inner thighs. He ran his tongue over the dark red marks he left behind. Throwing your panties somewhere in his room, he came back to your throbbing core. Running a finger through your wetness he cooed at you. “Oh angel you're just soaking wet for me aren't you? I can't wait to taste this sweet little cunt.”

He licked up your slit, collecting your juices. He moaned at the taste. His tongue flicked against your clit ever so lightly, giving you some stimulation but not enough. One hand snaked up in between your thighs to play with your cunt.

You threw your head back at the sensation of his tongue and fingers working their magic on your body. His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked. You gasped at the sensation, shivers running down your spine. His finger teased your entrance.

“You’re fucking drenching me sweetheart. You taste so good when you're like this for me.”

“Please sir I need you.”

“Where do you need me angel?” his finger slid all the way in, “right here?”

Your eyes rolled back as he finally gave you what you wanted. His finger rubbed against your g spot immediately, making soft moans escape your mouth. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes” You whimpered. He smacked your thigh. “What was that?” He said roughly, looking up to meet your eyes.

“I’m sorry, yes it feels good sir.”

Satisfied with your answer he slowly pumped his finger in and out of you, rubbing your clit in tight circles with his thumb. Before long you were thrashing on the sheets, hands gripping the pillow above your head. Your stomach fluttering as you neared your climax.

“Are you a good girl?” Tim questioned.

“Yes sir.” you cried out, “please let me cum, please sir.” Your voice was shaking as you tried to control yourself. Out of nowhere he pulled away, licking his fingers as he watched you kick your legs in frustration.

“What the FUCK Timothy!” You shouted as he got off the bed and walked to his desk. Laughing to himself he reached into a drawer and pulled out a condom.

“Gotta be safe right?” He said with a smirk on his face.

You sighed. “I thought you were just going to leave me there.”

“That's only if you’re a bad girl but you've been good for me so far, so good that I’ll give you what you want.” He said sliding into you. He leaned down and kissed your forehead as you both caught your breath. Once you adjusted to him you tapped his shoulder to move.

“You feel so good wrapped around me angel.” Tim whispered softly in your ear, as he thrust his hips into yours. Finally getting what you needed. You wrapped your legs around him pulling him as close as you could. Your lips met in a heated kiss as the knot in your stomach grew impossibly tighter. His hips snapped into yours at a steady rhythm. Your legs trembled as your orgasm approached at a blinding speed.

Your hips moved to meet his every thrust.

“Tim I’m gonna cum.” You said breathlessly

“Just wait angel one more minute.” The pleasure almost overwhelmed you but the need to be good for him won out. “I want you to cum with me in 3,” your nails clawed down his back, “2,” your eyes fluttered shut, “1.” He growled in your ear.

Your stomach contracted as your body shook with pleasure. His hips stuttered to a stop but his hand kept rubbing you, prolonging your orgasm as long as he could.

You finally pushed his hand away, the feeling getting to be too much. You both lay there next to each other, catching your breath.

“So does this mean we’re together?” You asked, your voice small.

He rolled over to look at you, a big smile on his face. “Definitely.”

#Tim Drake #smut #batboys #batboys smut #tim drake smut #tim drake x fem!reader #tim drake x reader #red robin #red robin smut #red robin x reader #batman #dceu #dc fics #dc #sabrina writes

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axwalker · 3 years

Text

If The World Was Ending: Even if he was wicked

Synopsis: When Bianca leaves her son without looking back, Drake has to live on the streets until he finds a home with Angelica Ortiz--Lexie’s grandmother and a foster mom. With the Ortiz, Drake finds a family and falls madly in love, until a tragic night changes everything, threatening the life Drake fought so hard to get.

To catch up (HERE)

Pairing: Drake Walker x Lexie O’Brien (MC) The Royal Romance.

A/N: This will be a very angsty, full of drama, small town romance.

Words: 4,120

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry, except for Lexie’s grandmother and mother.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Child neglect, abandonment, sexual assault, prison and a very entitled, “evil” Liam

Due to the several trigger warnings and some of the subjects I’ll be dealing with, I will only tag people who actively asked for it. If you want to be tagged in the following chapters --or untagged, please leave a comment.

Drake

2008

When I was 12 years old, my mother took off with my little sister leaving me in Cordonia with my father's best friend. I reminded her too much of my father, too much of a life she would do anything to forget. That "anything" included abandoning her oldest son. I'd like to say I was surprised, but the truth is I wasn't. Bianca Walker had never been a motherly woman. The only reason she had taken Savannah with her was that my Aunt Leona adored her. I was sure my mother would dump my little sister on her and never look back. I hoped that was the case, Leona despised me, but she was great to Savannah.

A short time after that, Bastien passed away and my mother was nowhere to be found. That's when I started to go from one home to another. The first year and a half were the hardest ones. I lived with four different families, each one worse than the last. First, the Lockes, where the family barely talked to me. Then, the Ruiz that made me take cold showers and sleep on the floor. The Godwins where the “mother” used the check the state gave her to buy alcohol instead of groceries. And finally the worse, the Fields. They seemed nice enough when I met them. Not kind but polite. The first few weeks everything seemed normal. Then one day, I got in trouble at school, and Mr. Fields --the pastor of his community, beat me up to “teach me some manners.” His punishments became a usual thing after that.

Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore, so I escaped. Better to be on my own than believe some family was going to love or adopt me. Obviously, there was something very wrong with me. My own mother had left me, and I had never found my place anywhere else.

I lived on the streets for 6 months. I did all kinds of jobs. Not a lot of them were legal but there were few opportunities for a 14-year-old runaway kid. The most money I got was when I stole car parts that I got to resell to a gang called the Mercy Park Crew. The boss, Mr. Kaneko was fair and paid well enough. I could’ve kept living by myself if something hadn’t got terribly wrong at my last job. One of the boys from a rival gang decided to teach me a lesson and I ended up in the hospital with a concussion. A nurse called social services so here I am in a car with another social worker on the way for another foster home. It doesn’t matter, I know it won’t last anyway.

When you’ve been in the system as long as I had, you learned to look for certain warning signs when placed in a new home. Drugs, ulterior motives, threatening fathers, drinking mothers. After an hour, we drove through a town looking like something straight out of a movie. Valtoria. I’d heard of it before. The family my dad had been protecting when he died lived there. The house we pulled up to, was a large two-story construction with dark brown siding and an immaculate green lawn.

Joelle, my new caseworker had popped up out of nowhere in the hospital and told me I was coming with her. Just like that. From the way Joelle talked about the new place, I figured it was some sort of transitional home for rejects like me. Too old to get adopted and too troubled for anyone to voluntarily take on. I didn’t ask her anything else because I knew I didn’t have a fucking choice. Besides, I knew words don’t mean anything. I was a kid in the system. I went where they took me. Sometimes, I hated it. Sometimes, I really hated it. This time was different. In more ways than one. Usually, I was dropped off by my caseworker, and the people receiving me were about as excited as they were about junk mail. No one has ever come out to greet me before. As long as the woman at the door wasn’t sizing me up for a skin suit, it didn’t matter.

The social worker got out of the car as I grabbed the trash bag that I used to carry my shit around. She rang the bell, and a small, older woman opened the door. Joelle had told me in the car that the woman fostered several boys and I knew what that meant. She wanted the money the government gave her for keeping us. Well, I wasn’t going to make it easy for her. If she wanted to cash a check at the end of the month it was going to cost her. I’d make sure of it.

I had seen it all, but I still was caught by surprise when the tiny woman opened her arms at me and gave me a one-sided hug. A fucking hug.

“I’m very happy to meet you, mijo,” she said in a strong accent. “My name is Angelica Ortiz but everyone here calls me Abuela. Grandma in Spanish.”

The woman was deluded if she thought I’d call her grandma. She was obviously trying to impress the social worker with her fake kindness, hugs, and stupid names. I wasn’t going to be fooled that easily.

I didn’t even answer her as we stepped into the house. Another woman, a younger version of the one staring at me was waiting for us in the living room.

“Hi, you must be Drake. I’m Elena. Welcome.” She gave me a smile. Fake, I was sure but at least she hadn't tried to hug me. The older woman was talking to Joelle about me. Probably about my problems with authority, anger issues, and lack of communication skills. I knew my file by heart.

I barely nodded at Elena, and the three women exchanged a look. “Let me take you to your room, Drake. You’ll be sharing it with Maxwell. He’s doing his homework with my daughter in our house across the street. You’ll get to meet all the boys and my daughter Lexie tonight.”

She walked me to a room on the second floor of the house. It seemed clean and comfortable. Another ploy for the social worker. Two bunker beds with blue blankets and a wooden desk full of books were the biggest pieces of furniture. The left side of the room was covered in posters of who I figured were famous boy bands. There were a few of David Beckham, the only guy I recognized. Other than that there were clothes everywhere. That Maxwell dude was a fucking slob. Great.

“I told Max to take down some posters so you can decorate half of the room to your liking; This is your room as much as it is his. He's usually much more organized than this." I notice she speaks with a sort of fondness. "It was picture day for the school yearbook and he took hours getting ready. ”

I shrugged. I wasn’t planning to stay long anyway. I couldn’t care less if that Max kid left his posters on the walls or not.

She glanced at my garbage bag. “Are those your clothes, mijo?”

I scowled at her. I knew what mijo meant and I was nobody’s son. “My name is Drake.”

She smiled. “Of course, Drake. So, are they?”

I didn’t bother with an answer. A nod was enough.

“I cleared you this part of the closet, so you can keep them there. When you’re ready come downstairs; my mom and I will show you the rest of the house. The boys are out but we’ll all diner together tonight. Do you like Mexican food?”

I shrugged.

The woman smiled. “Shrugging is not an answer, mij- Drake. Either you like it, you don’t, or you haven’t tasted it in which case I can tell you, you’re missing out. Especially when mami cooks.” She winked at me as if we were friends or something. The woman was insane. “So, what is it, Drake?”

I’d never had it before, but she wasn’t going to tell me how to answer a damn question. “I hate it.”

She frowned --clearly disappointed, and I almost felt bad for her. Almost. “I’m very sorry to hear that. We already made Enchiladas for tonight and we don’t waste food. You can tell us your favorite dish though so we can make it for you.”

I shrugged again. Generally, that's when the person talking to me loses her patience but Elena Ortiz only smiled at me again. “Think about it. Every Sunday night, we pick someone’s favorite and cook it. It’s really fun. Next Sunday will be your first here, so you get to pick. Mami is a great cook and she can make anything from a mean chocolate cake to the best cheese pizza. See you downstairs, honey.”

Great. I’ve only been in this house for a few minutes, and I already hated it. The only thing worse than a home where you were beaten up as a welcome was a home where people pretended to care. My third foster home had been like that. Ms. Godwin had been all kind and nice at first. I almost felt like she cared about us. A week later, she had gotten drunk. For two days, neither I or the two girls she fostered had anything to eat because she hadn’t bought any groceries. I had to steal a twenty euro bill from her purse to buy food. She got angry and called the social worker who had come for me and taken me to the Fields. The worst home I ever lived in.

I wasn’t going to go downstairs but I decided that if I wanted a chance to escape it was better if I knew the house. Before I could explore a little, I heard my name from what I assumed was the kitchen.

Elena was crouching in front of the oven. “Drake has such sad eyes, mami. He’s only 14.”

The woman that had asked me to call her abuela, answered as she chopped an onion. “This boy has been living in the streets for more than a year. Do you realize it? Pobre angelito. So young and he has already seen more horrors than most people see in a lifetime.”

“Joelle told me that he had escaped from his last foster home.”

The older woman scoffed. “Home? If that’s how you call people that foster kids only for the money, they get in exchange. I don’t want to imagine why he fled those places." She turned to her daughter who had finished whatever she was doing in the oven and was drinking a bottle of water. "Stop watching me work, Elena and help me with diner, por Dios.”

Why was she pretending she didn’t care about the money? It was obvious. No one did anything for free. There was always a catch.

“Dónde está mi venadito?”

“Lexie and Max are at our house doing homework, mami. Be careful, though, if Lexie hears you calling her “your little deer” she’ll kill you. The boys called her Bambi for months after they heard you the last time.”

“Nonsense. She’s my venadito and that’s that. You two will come to eat here tonight. I want Drake to meet everyone.”

Elena rolled her eyes but patted her mom on the back. “Yes mami. Lexie is dying to meet him, she and Max made a chocolate cake for him. I’ll call her in a minute. Where are the boys by the way?”

“Bertie is trying to teach Leo how to drive. Poor boy, I hope he makes it alive.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure Leo will be careful. Bertrand will be fine.”

“Oh, it’s not Bertie I’m worried about, it’s Leo. Bartie has no patience with him.”

I left the kitchen before they said anything else. I was sure I was going to hate this stupid place. I was angry. More than angry. Furious. After a year of successfully running away, I was back in the damn system. Back in yet another home where people seemed to care about me in front of the social worker just to ignore me –or worse, once she left. I had to admit that my new foster “moms” played their part better than most. The old one had hugged me and the other one had given me a smile that seemed real. But I knew better. No one really cared for me. No one gave a shit where I slept, what I ate, or if I was ill or scared. Not that I was ever scared. I had seen everything.

The front door was locked so I went to the backyard. I saw a small wooden house on top of one of the trees. I decided it was a good place to hide and be myself.

I sat there for a few moments when I heard someone climbing the tree.

“Hi!”

I looked up and saw a girl a couple of years younger than me. She had the biggest pair of brown eyes I’ve ever seen and was smiling at me as if I was her best friend.

“I’m Lexie! I live across the street. I’m Angelica’s granddaughter. You’re Drake, right?” I didn’t think it was possible to smile more but the girl proved me wrong when her grin widened. I simply nodded.

“Welcome! I know that it must be hard for you to feel at home because you like just arrived but you’ll love it here. I promise. Valtoria is great. We have lakes and the mountains and when it’s warm enough we can go camping all night. You’ll love the house too. I mean between you and me the boys are kind of a pain in the ass but they’re pretty great when they want to. Or when they're not teasing me. Especially Leo and Maxie. Bertrand is a know-it-all. He thinks because he’s sixteen he knows everything." She rolled her eyes clearly offended by the idea that someone could know more than her. "Abuela, that how we all call her because she’s Mexican and would murder us if we call her grandma, is amazing. I mean don’t get me wrong, she's super strict, and as my mom says the woman is never wrong but she’s the best person I know.”

I blinked. I didn’t know a person could talk that much without taking a single breath.

“Do you camp?” She asked as she folded her legs in front of her.

I did before. Before my dad died and my whole life blew up in a million pieces. Not that I would explain any of that to the chatty girl, so I just nodded again.

“Great! It’s getting warmer and Leo wants to go to a new camping site next weekend. Don’t tell him I said this but he’s like the worst camper ever. I have to double-check everything he does but I don’t tell him anymore because my mom said it wasn’t nice.”

I wondered how could someone carry a whole conversation by herself. I hadn’t pronounced a single word since the girl had shown up.

“I want to be your friend but I can see we’re about to have our first fight.” She told me in a teasing tone. “You’re wearing a Liverpool t-shirt. We worship Barcelona in this house. Well, Abuela, Leo and I do. The others couldn’t care less about soccer.”

I looked at the shirt she was wearing. It read "If they don't have soccer in heaven, I'm not going."

She noticed I was looking at her shirt and beamed. "Abue said my shirt was disrespectful to God but mom thought that was dumb and bought it for me anyway."

"Do you like soccer?" I finally asked.

“Like it? I love it! Did abuela saw your shirt? She hates European teams. She thinks Tigres is the best.”

“Tirgues?”

She laughed, and the sound of it did something weird to my stomach. “Tigres. It’s a Mexican team. She goes crazy when they play.”

“What team you like?”

“Barcelona, obviously.”

“Liverpool made it to the finals of the last Champion’s league.” I pointed out.

She shrugged. “They lost so it doesn’t count. Do you play?”

“Sometimes.” I tried not to show how much I loved it. It was something else my dad and I shared that had stopped when he died.

“I play too. How old are you?”

“Fourteen.”

“I'm twelve. Well, almost thirteen, my birthday is in May.”

I frowned. “It’s November.”

“I know. I’m almost there.” She beamed. "I'm almost closer to thirteen than twelve anyway."

“Do you always talk this much?”

She laughed and my belly did that weird thing again. “My mom says I was a parrot in another life. I talk more when I’m nervous.”

“You're nervous?” I liked that I could make her nervous but I didn't know why.

She blushed and I liked it too. “A little. What happened to your eye?”

“I got into a fight.”

“Wow. You can’t do that here. Leo is always getting into fights and abuela has to ground him.”

She sure mentioned that Leo guy a lot. “Is Leo your boyfriend?”

“Gross!! Leo’s is like my brother. He, Bertie, and Max live with abuela. We’re a family. You’re family too.”

Fuck that. No matter if the girl was sort of cute. I didn’t have a family. “No, I’m not. I’m not staying.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I don’t belong here.”

“Yes, you do; I swear. Plus, I need someone to coach me, so I can get into the school team next year. Leo promised he would, but he never has time.”

“I suck.”

She shook her head and smiled at me again. “Somehow I don’t think you do.” Then she gave me a conspiratorial look as she pulled out something from her jacket pocket. "You can't tell my mom about this but I took this from her room." It was a white iPod. After scrolling a little through the screen she settled on The Beach Boys. She couldn't possibly know it but they were my dad's favorites. She passed me an earbud and we didn’t talk after that. We just sat together for a while hearing music until we heard our names being called.

“That’s abuela. We should go. She hates to wait. Plus, I'm starving and we're having enchiladas. You'll love them.”

Lexie ran to her house to --as she put it-- 'hide the evidence.' I went back to her grandma's house and stepped into the kitchen.

“Drake, pass me the salt, mijo. It’s next to you on the counter,” Angelica said as she kept on turning the sauce she was making. “You like enchiladas?”

What was with all these women asking me what I liked to eat? I leaned against the black counter while she opened the lid of another steaming pot on the stove, and stirred its contents with a long wooden spoon. I shrugged. I didn’t know if I liked it. But it smelled better than anything I ever tasted, so it couldn’t be all that bad. My mouth started watering, and my stomach growled. Come to think of it, it had been a while since I’d last eaten.

“You know, I know you feel weird now. And you don’t like to talk a lot. Soon, you’ll learn that this is a safe place. We aren’t gonna judge a single word that comes out of your mouth or any of them that don’t.”

I suddenly felt like I owed her a verbal response in exchange for her kindness. Fake or not. Besides, I just knew the chatty girl I’ve just met wouldn’t be happy if I was rude to her grandmother. “Yes, ma’am.”

She smiled at my verbal response. “But just so you know. We do have a few rules in this house.”

Here it comes. The catch. Angelica put the lid back on the pot and leaned over the counter on her elbows. “You just need to go to school, find a hobby or sport you like, don't swear, respect the curfew and keep your room clean. Every child in this house has chores but it’s too soon to figure out yours. For now, you only have to get to know us.” Her eyes crinkled as she smiled at me. At that moment the timer of the oven rang and Angelica took a huge dish out of it. She covered it with more steamy, tomato sauce, sour cream, and grated cheese and put it back in the oven. At least, I might get some good food while I figured what I was going to do next. Because no matter how nice and kind everybody acted, I was not going back to school. I used to be good at it without much effort; I had friends and a soccer team. But I had missed a lot in the last two years. I felt dumb and stupid.

Suddenly, the front door slammed open. “Cuidado muchachos! Be careful with that door against the wall, or you’re going be spackling and repainting this entire house,” Angelica yelled out. Three teenage boys filed into the house, followed by just as many apologies.

“Sorry.” “Oops.” “It was Max’s fault.” “

“These are Maxwell, Leo and Bertie,” Angelica introduced. “Boys, this is Drake.”

“Hi, man!” The blond one said with a shit-eating grin. “Abuela, Lena, you guys didn’t tell me you were buying a Liverpool fan.”

“Adoption is not a purchase of people, Leo” the oldest one --Bertrand, corrected.

“Yeah, cause if it was, then you got Leo from the clearance rack,” the youngest one joked, checking his reflection in the hallway mirror, smoothing back an out-of-place dark hair. “I hope you kept your receipt.”

“Fuck, off,” the blond one replied with a middle finger.

“Watch it, Leo,” Angelica warned. “Boys.”

Max kissed her on the cheek. “Sorry, abue.” She forgave him with a smile, then swatted at his hand with her spoon when he dipped his finger into the pot.

“I’m glad you’re here, bro” Leo said. I stood, and he gave me a fist bump without touching my hand.

“Me too! And we’re going to be roomies,” the kid named Max said. He grabbed a stack of plates from the counter. I followed him over to the long dining room table and helped set the table for seven people.

2020

I lost count of how many days I’ve been in the hole. It wasn’t my first time in here and it sure as hell it wouldn’t be the last. It was always the same routine. Days and nights blended into one making it impossible to know what day it was or how much time I had been in here.

I have been in jail for six excrutiating years. I had known from the day I heard the sentencing that the only way I was going to survive was if I didn’t think about her. It was the hardest thing I had to do but after a while, my routine was running smoothly and when my head hit the pillow at night, I was too fucking exhausted. She haunted my dreams and my nightmares, but I didn’t think of her beyond that. Except for the hole. Locked up there, cold, hungry, and utterly alone her face, my memories of her were the only thing that helped me go on.

I replayed in my head our first encounter, our first kiss, our first time. I obsessed about her full lips, her expressive brown eyes, her gorgeous smile. I could spend hours picturing every single corner of her soft delicate curves. Sometimes, I wondered if --maybe, I didn’t start fights in the hope of being sent to the hole where I could spend my time fantasizing about her. It was pure torture, but I couldn’t help myself. The memories I had of her, of us and our short time together were the only light in my otherwise bleak life.

She still wrote me every week but I hadn’t open any single one of her letters. I didn’t want to know if she was moving on with her life or worst if she was waiting for me. Because that was what Lexie didn’t understand. Even if nothing happened and I was released in one year, I would never be that boy again. The Drake Walker she had known and loved was dead and she wasn’t going to like the man that had been left in his place. I was damn sure about that.

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#tw child neglect #tw child abandonment #tw children #tw child labor #axwalker writes #drake walker #drake walker fanfic #drake x mc #drake x lexie #trr fanfic #trr au fanfic

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