#dickie and all his redheads in one place

[backtothefanfiction]

Spiders & Lace | tasm!Peter 1920s au

Summery: Amongst the jazz and the liquor, all anyone can talk about is the new hero in the city. But that hero has a plan all of his own.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! drinking, smoking, general prohibition debauchery, male oral receiving, reckless driving, hints of violence.

Word Count: 4.9K

A/N: So I've been tinkering with this idea for a while. This will probably have another part or two eventually but I'm in no rush. If all else fails, it can still be read as a stand alone. I love all things 1920s (as a former socialite in a past life) and have been itching to incorporate the era in a story at some point. This is also a little bit of a time period mob!au as well. Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think.

There was a pop and a few shrieks of surprise, as yet another bottle of champagne was opened. A round of cheers and another round of gossip as the band continued to play loudly from the conservatory.

“Did you hear about that fellow in red and blue pyjamas who beat up those thugs on Bond Street the other night?” A red head cried out to the small group she was currently entertaining.

“Oh yes, I read all about it in the papers.” A blonde responded as she puffed away on a cigarette.

“I heard it was one of those fellas from one of Mabel’s costume parties. The guy was a bit squiffy if you ask me.” A gentleman bellowed, champagne sloshing out of his glass and splashing on the lapels of his suit.

“Really, Dickie?” The gentleman next to the first who had spoken said. “I thought it was one of those acrobats from the circus that’s just dossed up in the park.”

“Whoever he was,” said a third, “he prevented a bank robbery and knocked out three guys to boot, all on his lonesome.”

“What are you hens gossiping about?” A blonde girl cried as she pushed her way through the crowd into the group.

“Ahh Birdie will know.” Said the man named Dickie.

“Birdie will know what?” She cooed drunkenly to him, referring to herself in the third person, as she swayed back and forth before wrapping an arm around the redhead beside her and curling into her side for support.

“About that fellow in red and blue pyjamas on Bond Street who stopped that robbery the other night.”

“And why would I know anything about that?” She protested.

“Because I heard it was some of your brother's chums who were trying to rob the bank.”

“Now, Dickie, where did you ever hear a tale like that?” She drunkenly brushed him off. Besides, even if that had been the case, her brother never let her anywhere near his business for her to know.

The small crowd continued to debate the facts of the story about the man in red and blue pyjamas, for the next quarter of an hour, unaware the gentleman in question was currently stood, his back to a wall of books, eavesdropping on the whole conversation. He went mostly unnoticed, apart from catching the attention of a certain blonde in the group that he kept making eyes at.

“Oh I love this song.” The redhead exclaimed to the group as a new tune began. “Oh Dickie, let’s go dance!” She placed her mostly empty glass on a rich wooden side table before grabbing one of Dickie’s hands in both of hers and pulled him towards the band and the makeshift dancefloor before them.

“Come on Birdie!” Another girl exclaimed as she grabbed the hand of the other gentleman in their group and began to lead him away. But Birdie had her eye on something else. Or rather, someone else.

“It’s a swell party.” The gentleman said, tipping a barely touched glass in her direction as she sidled up beside him, slumping against the wall of books as she looked up at him.

“Who are you? Why have I never seen you before? Are you a friend of a friend or something?” Birdie asked him over the music.

“Or something.” He chuckled and mused as he turned his body towards her.

“So have you got a name ‘or something’?” Birdie tipsily asked him with as much audacity as she could muster.

“Peter.. -Parker.” He hastily added, shifting his drink from one hand to the other so he could reach out and offer it to her.

“Well Peter Parker, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” She said cheerfully, taking his hand and shaking it vigorously. It made his face burst into an ear splitting smile. “I would introduce myself,” she said as she dropped his hand and took a sip of her drink, “but I’m sure you already know who I am, or else you wouldn’t be in my house.”

“No, no, you’re quite right.” He said with a small breathy chuckle.

“So what do you make of all this guy in red and blue pyjamas business. I saw you listening and smirking to yourself. You think it’s a load of old rubbish really, don’t you?” She said her last sentence in a hushed conspiratorial manner. 

“No, no, not at all.” Peter was quick to say. “I uh- I was there actually- when it happened that is.”

He watched as her face lit up. “Oh really!” She said eyes wide as she shimmied even closer to him, her back coming into contact with the bookcase as they huddled secretly against it. “Do tell.”

“I don’t know what you expect me to say. It’s just as the people say, he swooped in and stopped those guys who were trying to steal from the bank.”

“Some people would say that makes him a bit of a hero, don’t ya think.”

“Well, what do you think?”

“Well I don’t think it matters what I think.”

“So you don’t think he’s a hero?” Peter continued to fish.

“Well I think it takes more than just stopping one bank robbery to become a hero.” She said confidently as she stood herself up taller, aiming to impress. “Besides, only fools trust all their money with the bank.”

“Is that so? So where do you keep yours then?”

“Oh I don’t deal with all that- do you have a smoke?” She quickly added but he shook his head, “ah oh well- anyway my brother deals with all the money and things. Georgie darling, have you got a smoke?” She quickly asked a nearby friend who reached into his pocket despite being mid conversation with another person, took out his cigarette case and held it out to her. “You don’t mind do you?” She asked Peter as she put a cigarette to her lips and Georgie turned and lit it for her, before returning to his conversation.

Not given much of a choice, Peter politely responded, “Uh no, sure.” But she was already puffing away. “So you’re brother doesn’t trust banks?” Peter pressed.

“What Freddie? Oh no- he’s in the security business you see. Says they’re awful things actually. They claim to be all safe but anyone could walk off the street and take what they wanted- just look at those men. No, no. You won’t find our money in the bank.”

She was giving him everything he wanted. It was almost too easy. “Where is your brother? Sounds like a smart fellow, I sure would like to meet him.” Peter said looking about the crowd.

“Oh you won’t find him at a ghastly party like this I’m afraid?”

“But I thought this was your party?”

“Yes, it’s a bore isn’t it? Not at all like that party we had at Margot’s last month. You know we really should get a swimming pool. Now that really would be swell. I’ll have to talk to Freddie about it- Do you want to get out of here?”

“But what about your guests?”

“What about them? They’re fine. They know where the door is when they’re ready to leave.” She continued to gabber on cheerily. “I’m sure most of them don’t even know who I am, let alone if I’m here.”

-------------

She took a flashy Bentley from the garage, driving them into the city, Peter having to grab the wheel a couple times as she drunkenly leaned towards the edges of the dark roads. She pulled up outside a club in the middle of the city, giggling loudly as she tossed the keys towards an awaiting doorman.

“Good Evening, Miss Thompson”

“Linus.” She greeted the doorman as he held open the door for them to enter.

They entered into a smaller mock shop entryway whose walls were lined with shelf upon shelf of books and other nicknacks. She hooked her arm into Peter’s and guided him through to a section in the back divided by a deep red velvet curtain. Just to the left of the curtain was a door. Peter took a step back, holding out a hand to indicate she should open the door and enter first.

As the door swung open to reveal a series of steps down, the roar of a jazz band burst out from its confines in the underground establishment. Birdie turned her head back giddily as she lured him down to the depths of the club.

At the bottom of the stairs they found a beaded curtain that she swept aside to reveal the cacophony of lights and sounds that was The Pharaoh's Tomb. There was a long bar along one side of the room, backed with mirrors and filled with more bottles of liquor than Peter had seen in his whole life. There was a stage complete with Jazz Band, Singer and dancing girls in Egyptian inspired costumes, complete with Cleopatra wigs. Small round tables littered the middle of the room save for a small space in front of the stage reserved exclusively for the drunken dancing masses, who writhed together to the music like a nest of snakes.

The last spare wall was home to a few more intimate booths, which Birdie eagerly took his hand and pulled him towards.

“Well if it isn’t the little bird.” A sleazy man’s voice called over the sound of a trumpet solo as they approached the circular booth closest to the stage. “Come here.” he continued, his voice changing and becoming lighter as his face lit up, arm coming out to ensnare her into his side.

“Floyd.” she beamed equally as large as she placed an arm around the man’s back. 

“What are you doing here? Your brother said you were hosting a party tonight.”

“I was.” she said back giddily, “It was a terrible bore.” She watched his face closely as his head turned to the company she had brought. “Oh Floyd,” she exclaimed, “this is Peter. He was a real gem to chaperone me down here.”

“Nice to meet you.” Peter said, holding his hand out for Floyd, but Floyd just looked him up and down with a grunt before turning back to the girl at his side.

“Is my brother here?” Birdie asked with curiosity as her eyes, having not recognised her brother amongst the gentlemen gathered at the table in the booth, scoured the dancefloor.

“He’s out back. He’ll be back in a minute. Had some business to discuss with Jack.” Floyd informed.

“Oh good.” Birdie continued obliviously, “I really wanted to introduce him to Pet- Ahhh Freddie!” she shrieked, reaching a hand for Peter’s and dragging him towards her brother who was just emerging from a side door next to the stage.

“For the love of Christ,” Freddie muttered upon seeing his baby sister bounding towards him, but quickly changed his tone, a composed showmanship falling over him as he saw the poor man she pulled along behind her. “Birdie!” He beamed at her. “And you brought a friend.”

“Freddie, this is Peter.” Birdie introduced.

“Hi, I’m Freddie Thompson, but everyone just calls me Flash.” Freddie said, his hand held out to Peter.

“Parker.” Peter said, providing Freddie ‘Flash’ Thompson with his surname before awkwardly adding, “Peter Parker.” for clarity.

“Well Peter Parker, I apologise for anything my sister has dragged you into, or is yet to drag you into. She seems to always find a way to get what she wants.” Freddie said with a deep chuckle. Peter wasn’t quite sure how to react to that. He was grateful when Freddie indicated for him to go and sit down at the table with him, two of the gentlemen already sitting in the booth getting up and vacating the table. 

Peter noticed that both men looked a little dinged up. One sporting a gash in his right eyebrow, the other clearly nursing a broken nose. “What happened to your friends?” he turned to ask Flash, wondering what tale he would spin. 

“Oh those two?” Flash said boastfully. “I’m in the security business, you see my friend.” His hand reached for a decanter and two glasses that had been brought over to the table and poured himself and Peter a drink, “We do a lot of work providing… security for different businesses. Sometimes that means we get in a few skirmishes. Nothing to worry about. I assure you the other guy looks worse.”

Peter had to stop himself from laughing, the sip of whiskey passing his lips almost spraying onto the table. He wanted to assure Flash that the other guy definitely didn’t look worse, but that would have been giving away his well calculated game.

“So what do you do Pete?” Freddie asked.

“I’m in the journalism business.” Peter watched as Freddie’s eyebrows raised. “Oh no, not a reporter. I just take the pictures.”

“A camera man eh?” Freddie chuckled. “I bet my sister will be very pleased about that.”

Peter and Freddie turned their heads to see Birdie, perched on the end of the booth, tucked close to Peter’s side smiling at them, but it was clear she wasn’t fully listening to the conversation due to the jazz band blasting in her ear on the other side. “Be sure to get her good side now, or else she’ll never forgive you.” Freddie continued to jest.

“Oh don’t worry, I will.” Peter said with a grin.

“Say, how much does a job like that pay?” Freddie asked.

“Oh it’s okay. I’d say just enough.” Peter replied.

“Just enough for what?” Freddie pressed.

“Rent, food, a ride into the city everyday.”

Freddie raised his eyebrows at that. He looked between Peter to his sister, who seemed to be studying Peter’s features closely, clearly smitten. “Oh my friend, that won’t do.” Flash said, slapping Peter on the shoulder. “If you’re gonna be seeing my sister now, you’ll need some money in your pocket. Why don’t you come by here Monday morning and we’ll see what we can do about that. I’m sure I can find a place for you round here somewhere, as long as you don’t mind getting your hands dirty a little bit?” 

“Uhm, thank you. Yes, I’ll be sure to do that.” Peter feigned surprise, yet accepted the offer confidently. Flash was playing right into his hand.

“Freddie darling, are you done talking business? You’re being an awful bore, we came here for a party, not listen to you beat your gums.” Birdie interjected.

Freddie rolled his eyes. He hated his sisters' friends and their fandangled new language. He held his tongue though in present company. “Birdie my dear, I thought you were in fact hosting a party tonight.” He merely replied.

“Oh Freddie Darling I was, but it was a terrible bore and me and Peter weren’t enjoying ourselves nearly as much as we ought to. Everyone was just talking about that frightful business about that man in those red and blue pyjamas.”

“Really? What were they saying?” Freddie pressed, his face turning serious.

“Oh they were all a wire, you know how people chat their lips, but Peter here assures me it really wasn’t the hooptie doo everyone’s raving about. Isn’t that right Peter?”

“Mhmm.” Peter mused quietly.

“Is that so? And how do you know that?”

“Because Peter was there of course, Darling. Taking pictures for the paper weren’t you.” Birdie beamed. “Now really Freddie this is all really a bore. Me and Pete came here to get away from all this chatter. Come Peter, let’s dance. It’s getting late and I need to dance off some of this giggle juice or else I won’t sleep for the room will be spinning.” she said, getting up and reaching for Peter’s, hand pulling him up with her.

Peter reached for his glass, necking the last of the liquid inside then lifting it in thanks in Flash’s direction. He quickly placed it down on the table before he was dragged over to the dancefloor.

Birdie pulled him through the mass of sweaty writhing bodies, still moving to the rhythms of the ongoing jazz. He wasn’t sure if the band had taken a break between songs at all. As he looked over Birdie’s head to the stage, he noticed the dancing girls and the female Jazz singer had now vacated the stage, the all black male band the only ones left standing as they burnt the midnight oil.

They danced for what felt like a solid hour, the two giggling together amongst the mass of bodies, Birdie by far the youngest of the bunch but never intimidated. No, she seemed far more comfortable here, lost within the crowd than she had the rest of the night. Peter was mesmerised as the beads of her dress caught the light, her melodious giggle floating on the sound waves to his ears. She often shared knowing glances and smiles with those around her but she never left his side not once.

They were finally dragged from the crowd about 1 in the morning, when Floyd made his way through the crowd to whisper something in her ear. Peter saw her face turn sour as she looked to her brother and then back to Floyd. She decidedly chose to ignore him, turning her back to him to face the stage, her arms eagerly raising and hands clapping with the music as she tried to prolong the night. Floyd didn’t seem amused though. He instead turned to Peter, handing him the keys to the Bentley. 

“I think it’s time you ought to be taking her home.” he encouraged, his head moving over to look at his boss, Peter’s eyes following through the crowd to where Flash sat at the table watching him intensely.

Peter took the keys from Floyd, giving him a curt nod to show he understood the message, before Floyd began to move back through the crowd and over to the booth. Peter knew there was no arguing with the task he had been given. He no doubt also saw it as a test. And if he wanted to get on the inside of Flash Thompson’s operation and take him down, he needed to pass this test.

“Come on little owl.” He said into her ear as he approached her from behind. She pushed herself back against him, her hips swaying temptingly and he grabbed a hold of her hip, stilling her before he lost control of himself. “Time for us to scram.”

“Oh Petey, don’t tell me you're a bore too.” she pouted.

“I wish I didn’t have to be, but the way your brother is looking at me, if I want to live another day to see that beautiful angel face of yours again, I fear I must.”

She turned to gaze into his soft brown eyes. They were kind and serious, but also held a devilish childlike nature to them she wanted to explore. “Fine.” she chirped, her fingers reaching for the keys in his hand, but he snatched them from her reach. 

“Ah, I don’t think so Missy.”

She folded her arms indignantly.

“I’m driving. Now be a good girl and go get in the car.”

“Fine.” she said with a dramatic eye roll, but began to make her way towards the curtain at the back of the hall and the stairs.

Peter turned his gaze looking over the crowd to Flash. Flash gave him a small nod of approval before turning back to his conversation.

Peter was nervous as he climbed into the driver's seat of the car. He’d never really driven before. He’d taken a few lessons with his Uncle Ben during the war before he too was drafted and like so many, gunned down in the prime of his life, but had yet to fully get behind the wheel of a car since. He turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life. He took one look towards Birdie in the passenger seat, her eyes gazing longingly out the window at the late night city lights. 

Even though it had gone one o’clock in the morning, a late summer humidity hung in the air, mixing with a faint sound of jazz, which seemed to cling to everything in the city these days as much as the smog and smoke from the nearby factories and the still developing young city. Peter worried at his lip as they sat in silence, Birdie seemingly giving him the silent treatment, unsatisfied with the abrupt end to her evening of joy.

As he began to take streets heading away from the city, towards the direction they initially came she stopped him. “Oh no, don’t go back to the house.” She said.

“But I’m supposed to be taking you home.”

“Yes.” She gave a small tight lipped smile, still agitated at having her night cut short. “But don’t go there. No doubt Dickie and Georgie and the others will still be there and I have no intention of going back to that party.”

“Where am I supposed to take you then?” Peter asked, looking over at her.

“We have a small apartment on Clinton Place.” 

“But that’s in the other direction. Why didn’t you tell me-“

She shot him a look that had him falling silent. Her eyebrows raised in a way that said you know exactly why. When he didn’t continue she said, just to confirm her reason if he hadn’t fully cottoned on to it, “Because I like spending time with you Peter Parker and I didn’t want this night to be over.”

She watched Peter closely, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard in an attempt to keep his cool. His eyes were fixed firmly to the road, not daring to look at her. She couldn’t help but beam at knowing she already had him hooked around her little finger.

She had to fight to suppress the little giggle that wanted to escape her lips as a naughty little idea popped into her head. She continued to watch him closely as her fingers began to tiptoe across the leather seat towards him. He jumped slightly, a shudder moving through him as she made contact with his thigh. 

He took one look down at her hand before fixing his eyes to the road again, still unable to look directly at her.

He stiffened as her hand kept moving over his trouser leg, her fingers moving to stroke up the inside of his thigh. He couldn’t help the sensation that crept into his body in reaction to her touch. His hips shifted slightly as he asked, “What are you doing?”

“Just focus on the road.” She cooed to him as she shuffled herself across the seat closer to him. 

She began to nuzzle herself into the crook of his neck as her hand began to palm the growing bulge in his pants.

“Birdie. Birdie…I-“ he tried to protest, but he struggled to find the words.

“Just relax.” She said sweetly into his ear.

He swallowed hard again, his fingers shifting over the steering wheel, gripping onto it for dear life as her fingers began to work open the fastenings to his trousers.

Peter grew tense as she freed his cock from his confines, her manicured fingers wrapping around his length, tugging on him gently as she continued to kiss, lick and suckle at the crook of his neck. His whole body temperature was rising under her attention and he wondered if her brother knew about this side of her behaviour.

“Mhmm,” he cleared his throat, “Birdie… birdie-“

“I love it when you say my name like that.” Her teasing voice whispered into his ear. His hips involuntarily jerked in her hand and the car swerved slightly. She giggled.

He realised she got off on it. The recklessness. The rebellion. She saw what her brother was like. Knew the image he wanted her to have. But it was clear she had no intention of being a pawn in his little game. This intrigued Peter. Where first he had only seen her as a way to get to her brother, maybe there was more to her than meets the eye. Maybe he didn’t have to play her at all. Maybe she’d willingly turn on Flash. 

The car in front of theirs turned off onto a different street, leaving a long open stretch of road before Peter. He kept his hands steady on the wheel as he turned his head away from the road to meet her gaze. He looked from her eyes to where she nibbled at her lower lip and back to her eyes. He could smell her arousal between her legs, sensed the small shuffle of her thighs as she fought with her own want. 

His foot grew heavy on the gas, the car revving slightly and she began to beam. He still did not look back out the front window. But she did. “Peter.” She giggled. His foot pushed down on the gas peddle more. “PETER.” She giggled louder. But still he didn’t look away. She bit at her lips with nervous giddy as she fought to commit to this, her hand frozen on his cock, eyes trying to stay fixed to his- but he still wouldn’t look to the road. 

She knew from the glances she’d taken that they were getting closer and closer to the building at the end of the street. Knew they’d have to turn soon. Knew he’d have to look. She wondered for a second what would happen if she didn’t say anything. Could he sense it out the corner of his eye. Did he know before he put his foot on the gas? It would likely be seconds now until they hit the brick facade. She wondered if it would be so bad if they did hit it. If they just went out with a bang like this. Together. New acquaintances, drunk on life, jazz and lust. She imagined it. She’d finally be free of her brother if nothing else. But she wanted to live. She wanted to get to know him better.

She broke his gaze to look at the nearing building. “Peter,” she said his name as a warning once more.

“Kiss me.” She looked at him shocked. “Kiss me and I’ll look.”

“Peter!” She warned again already beginning to brace herself for the impending accident, her hand gripping his cock tighter. She had forgotten it was still in her hand. No, she adamantly decided, although she’d be free of her brother if she died right now, there’s now way she’d let her body be found with that of a man she had only just met, his cock still hanging out of his trousers. So she kissed him, smashing her lips into his and smearing her lipstick across his mouth. He grinned against her lips. 

His eyes finally turned to face forward. There was a sharp turn of his hands on the wheel and a screech of tires as he broke, the car narrowly making the turn. There was a blast of a horn as they swerved into the oncoming traffic on the other side of the road, before they moved back into the correct lane and they both let out a breathy giggle of relief at still being alive.

Birdie finally removed her hand from his cock and Peter stole a glance back towards her to find her shuffling back slightly on the bench seat. He kept checking between her and the road as he tried to work out what she was going to do, her eyes briefly meeting his with a devilish smirk as she slowly lowered her head towards his crotch. Peter groaned as her tongue caressed his length, her finger wrapping around the base of his cock and pulling at the length her mouth couldn’t reach. Peter had never had his cock sucked before and from the feeling low in his belly, he knew he wouldn’t last long.

He placed a hand to the back of her head, urging her to slow down so he could at least make it to Clinton Place before he came hard in her mouth, but it only seemed to make the sensation worse.

He tried to keep his eyes on the road as her head bobbed up and down in his lap. He leant his elbow against the door, his finger biting at his knuckles as he fought with all his resolve to hold out. 

When he saw the sign for Clinton Place he wanted to kiss God himself as he sent up a silent praise. He just had enough foresight to carefully pull into a space at the side of the street before his hips stuttered. He grunted once, twice, before he spilled his seed into her pretty mouth.

She took her mouth off his cock and pumped it twice more with her hand as Peter watched her swallow his load. “Fuuuuck,” he said with a low hiss.

She smiled. “Well, thanks for the ride, Peter Parker.” She said seductively, behind heavy lashes.

“Uhh- you’re welcome.” He stuttered. She blushed, her smile growing wider.

“You can take the car to drive yourself home.” She said as she wiped at her mouth and climbed out of the car. She stood with one hand on the door as she lowered her head back into the cab to talk to him. “You can bring it back to the house tomorrow. We’re having brunch at 11.” She said with another one of those sly and foxy smiles, before slamming the door closed and walking away.

As Peter watched her from the driver's seat as she began to skip her way up the front steps to let herself into a building just the other side of the street, Peter realised- he was in so much trouble than he realised.

[ivmwc]

ℝ𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕆𝕦𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕊𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 || Self-Para

who: Luke Benson, Richard Benson when: About a month into their move to Seattle where: Shared loft summary: After retrieving Skylar from the bus depot, where she was attempting to return to PA, Luke and Ricky have discussion...

The slam of the teenager’s door could be heard clear the rather small unit. “Did she- did she really just walk away from me while I was mid-sentence? How dare she! I am her father, and she will listen to me when I speak!”

As he moved to make towards the girl’s room, Luke moved to stand directly in front of him. “I would heavily advise against whatever ‘direct action’ plan you’ve managed to settle on,” she started, placing a placating hand on his chest when he made to move again. “Unless, you’ve somehow managed to come up with a really good counterpoint to her calling you out for not even having noticed she was missing until we walked through the door just now.”

It was obvious in the shift in his eyes that his ego was less hurt by Skylar walking away, and was now very focused on the fact that Luke dared to give his kid the higher ground. She knew when she said it, that regardless of her intent, he would jump to the assumption that she was attempting to undermine his parenting, and that in turn would shift his anger and frustration onto herself over Skylar.

“Why the hell would I have a reason to think my kid wasn’t at school where she’s supposed to be?” he countered, to which Luke simply shrugged and said, “Maybe because you’re not the one to drop her off at said school....or even pick her back up for that matter-”

“Are you calling me a bad father, Jo?! Is that it? Because you can use your Big Girl words for that you know,” he spat, effectively doing what he was so upset about having been done to him just moments before. “Or what? Are you afraid that Sky will hear you and learn what a petty bitch you really are?”

Luke winced slightly at his words, less about the accusation since she had enough faith in how well Sky knew her that it wasn’t a major concern, and more about his use of the stupid nickname...It was a surefire way to get under her skin, and as much as she hated that it always worked, it was also a clear tell that he was fully aware he was in the wrong and just wanted to make the taller woman hurt for it.

Taking a deep breath, she rubbed at the bridge of her nose before dropping her hand and saying, “Look, I think you’re wasting your energy by focusing on the wrong thing, Dicky. The problem isn’t the fact that stormed off on you, the problem is that she put herself in a very unsafe situation by not telling anyone that she was going to try and travel cross-country by herself. You have to talk to her about why she felt it was so important to place herself at risk like that to go back to Fallcrest. Who knows, maybe she’ll manage to convince you that she’s right.”

The look that flashed across her brother’s face was one that only led to confusion crossing her own. He’d looked downright alarmed by the idea of returning home, but before Luke could ask he’d turned and taken a few steps away from her. As turned back around he just said, “No. It’s absolutely out of the question...at least not until this Irwin Co. project is done and the contract details a minimum of a year’s worth of work. I’m not about to give up good money to satisfy the whims of a rather ungrateful child. And you would do well to stop encouraging her.”

Luke let her shoulder’s drop in slight resignation as she began, “Come on, Dicky. All I’m saying is that she were my kid-”

“Well she’s not!”

The redhead recoiled as if she’d been physically slapped across the face. In the moment she believed it was the usual reaction to such changes in volume, but would later learn it was just a reaction to past trauma...even later than that, she’d realize the sentiment itself had also hurt.

“Skylar Anne Benson is not your kid. She is mine! And the sooner you manage to get that through your thick skull, Lucas dear, the sooner you can stop interfering with my attempts to parent her properly. Maybe, if you weren’t so busy spoiling her trying to always be her favorite, she would never have felt brave enough to try this stupid little stunt to begin with! I am her parent. You are just her aunt, okay? Her adopted aunt, at that. So please, if you plan on staying here with us, just help when asked and leave the decisions to me.”

Before Luke could even think of a response, Richard’s phone went off and shortly after so did he. Guy claimed it was a work meeting, but as much as Luke could tell he was lying, she was not about to stop him from leaving. No sooner had the front door closed, than she heard the door to a certain teenager’s room creak open.

She felt more than heard the girl come to stop just behind her and off to the side a bit. “You should’ve said something back,” came the almost petulant complaint, and when Luke glanced down, the matching Calvetti pout and furrowed brow combo was firmly in place. “Nah,” she said, shaking her head. “Arguing with your dad when he’s already mad is like arguing with a really dense, concrete wall. The day he ever learns to listen will be the day they take the rain out of Seattle. Anyway, with him gone, I get to just order pizza for dinner,” she said, as she was already pulling out her phone.

“Cheese pizza,” she clarified before the kid could get too excited, and sure enough the pup’s face immediately fell. “What?! No Meat Lover’s?!”

“You skipped school, tried to use my credit card without my permission, and didn’t even bother to tell me what you were planning to do...I’m not about to reward that, Mini-me.”

[internalsealpanic]

The Dog and Duck

summary: Dick Grayson is a terrible flirt (in more ways than one).

a/n: Special thanks to @jd-loves-everyone, @littleredwing89, @glorified-red, and @multifandomgirl-us for proofreading! This fic is based on a headcanon by @pricetagofficial (I think) that Dick Grayson is actually terrible at flirting which is just the cutest thing.

warnings: Potential cringe and terrible flirting advice

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

The sound of voices and clinking of glasses mingle around you like a bustling symphony: discordant, rhythmic, clashing but endlessly vibrant. The scent of alcohol hung thick in the air, enough to taste and intoxicate. The amount of people in such a small space made something under your skin hum, whether it was simply an irritable Yasiri or the buzzing energy stored in your bones or maybe even a genuine discomfort, you weren’t entirely sure.

You sip lightly at the scotch in your glass, letting it burn through your throat, but it wasn’t enough to make the itch in it go away completely. 

 You watch Dick’s eyes intently as they slide past you, just over your shoulder. His sentences coalesce clumsily, syllables squishing and clipping at odd ends as his plush bottom lip catches between his teeth. His eyes are glossy with interest even in the dim lights of the pub. His pupils are blown and dark. You fight everything in you to stamp down the urge to huff or roll your eyes. Not that he would have noticed. You’re pretty sure you could stab someone in the eye and Dick wouldn’t even blink, not when he is so enraptured by whatever the hell is behind you. You feel a gross sticky sort of jealousy pool in the pit of your stomach.  You swallow it down not really knowing of any other way to deal with it. 

 You arch a brow, the tips of your nails tapping loudly against the lacquered wood of the table as Dick once again stumbles absentmindedly over his story about Wally West being living proof of the need for warning labels (for people). You click your teeth irritably while Yasiri’s tail rattles against your collarbone before you take another sip, eyes following his only for them to land on a vivacious redhead at the bar. The irritation bubbling in your veins dwindles into mild amusement. Your best friend is a hilariously predictable moron. 

 “She is either a suspect or you’re being a creep.” You tease, the cruel curve of your lips barely obscured by the glass pressed against them. The mockery in your eyes shining amber like the drink in your glass. Dick’s cheeks flush as the playful lilt in your voice lances through the fog in his mind. He looks at you, dopey and red-cheeked as if he didn’t know what you were talking about. You roll your eyes, nostrils flaring letting out a breath caught between a huff and a laugh. “Stalker.” You hiss, trying to smother the warmth in your voice with sheer, unadulterated pettiness. 

 Dick levels you a look, cutting and vicious if he wasn’t flushed. “Am not.” He whines halfheartedly, eyes flicking once again to the woman at the bar. Some part of you is sure you really ought to be mad at him. After all, you haven’t seen each other for almost half a year. This is thanks in part to work and in part to work getting royally fucked up. Thankfully, not because of Gotham’s resident furry and his new little bird boy. Really, you should be furious at being sidelined considering this outing was his idea but here you were smirking into your malt whiskey, tickled. 

 “Then stop staring.” You challenge, unfolding and relaxing into the moldy cushioning of the bar. Dick glares at you, the pout on his lips obscured by his hand as he rests his chin on his palm but you know it’s there. You’ve memorized the plains of his face and how they shaped themselves, a product of spending far too much time staring at the details.  Hey, if he was gonna third wheel you the least you could do was tease him about it. “Or do you want me to wingman for you~”

 “HELL NO”

 You can’t stop the cackle that spills from your lips. “Why not?!”

 “I’m not letting you cockblock me. AGAIN.”

 “That was one tiiime, Joystick.”

 “Once was enough!" 

 "’Fiiiine but to be fair,  you still ended up dating her, didn’t you?” You defended weakly, running your fingers through your hair, jostling the already wind whipped strands. Dick was red-faced. The liquor was definitely working through his system. The color in his cheeks was lively and cute, making him look boyish despite how much he’d grown. You had, in fact, cockblocked him due to an extreme bout of jealousy, childishness, and hormones. Back then you hadn’t yet learned the art of burying your feelings 6 feet under.

 “Fine, fine, fine. Just shoot your shot, Dickie bird.” This does not appease him. He, in fact, crosses his arms over his chest. You set your glass down and raise your brow. “If you fail, I’ll buy you a round.” You add placatingly. Dick’s eyes slide over your shoulder, the lump in his throat bobbing.“Make that two.” 

 Your eyes shine, cat-like the dim lighting of the lamp overhead. You smile at him all cocksure, placing your chin on your intertwined fingers.“Deal.”

 Dick gives you a withering look as he pushes off the table. You take a sip of your daiquiri as he moves through the crowd, gracefully slicing through the sea of bodies. No, maybe they were parting just for him. Dick does have that air about him. A pull that made it so painfully obvious that he was so much more. Dick also had this way of talking that made you unsure of whether you’re being flirted with or if it’s just the way he talks to people. Either way, he had this way of making you feel special and you had no doubt he would sweep this one off her feet.  

 The redhead at the bar tipped her head finally sensing his gaze on her and as per your expectation, she seemed to reciprocate the interest. Not that you can blame her. Dick was a 10 on his worst day. Now that you thought about it, you’ve never actually seen Dick flirt. You’ve seen him banter but flirt? You can’t seem to think of an instance of it. This’ll be fun. 

 You watch him closely and your brows climb higher than you thought they could. Something was off, something very un-Dick-like. There’s an unsteadiness in his step that makes your stomach sink. Dick wouldn’t. Even Dick wasn’t stupid enough to blow his shot just to get a few shots, would he?

 And then it happened.

 “Did it hurt when you hit your face?” Dick asks, winking stiffly. A ripple of pain lances through you followed by an unbearable wave of second-hand embarrassment. “Excuse me?!” Her face morphs into something terrifying before Dick’s brain can catch up. You watch in mute horror as Dick’s face slowly matches the sinking feeling in your gut as embarrassment suffused his entire body. 

 “Wait, shit. I- I meant- Shit. I didn’t mean to say you look like you banged your face. I mean, of course, you don’t-” You watch in fascination as Dick stumbles through apology after apology after apology. Until finally, he gives up. “Actually, I’ll just leave.” Dick shambles gracelessly back to your table while your brain tries to process what just happened. 

 You wheeze against the table, pounding your fist against the table. “Dickie, yanno you did have a shot before you opened your mouth, right?” Your hand is clamped over your mouth trying to stop the shrill cackle bubbling in your throat. 

 “Y/n...” 

 “Jeez, Dicktopus, was gin really worth getting blue balled?”

 “You better have your money,” he sneers, cutting you a scathing look as he slides into the booth. 

 “I-” The smug look on your face vanishes when you reach into your wallet. “If I apologize for you, will you cut me some slack?” you try, brandishing your nearly empty wallet. 

 “I’ll buy you a shot if she doesn’t tell you to fuck off.”

 “Hmm, if I get her number for you, will you get me two?”

 “Sure, why not?” Dick whines petulantly. His head sinks into his arms desperately trying very hard  to implode. You cough into your sleeve trying not to laugh and hope he doesn’t notice. A blush creeps up the tanned skin of his neck. He tries to hide it by placing his hand on his neck but the color’s already made its way to his ears. Feeling a little bad for him, you squeeze Dick’s shoulder once, then twice, then twice once more. You swing your legs dramatically out of the booth. You hear Dick groan and you chuckle. 

 You flick your eyes to him one last time before moving forward. You roll your shoulders, realigning your form into something more suave and less goofy. The rhythm of your feet goes from a clumsy shuffle to a confident saunter. The woman looks at you skeptically, her lashes fluttering mockingly. You move, easy and casual. With a playful grin, you apologize and make up some bullshit excuse about Dick being extremely shy. She eases. You continue on your little sales pitch as if it was the most natural thing in the world.  You draw a laugh out of her. You can hear her heart pick up. She smiles at you telling you that you and your shy friend are fine. You chuckle and promise to tell your long-suffering friend that, tilting your chin towards Dick who is still trying to melt into the table. She scribbles her number onto a napkin and hands it to you with a flirtatious wink. You smile lopsided, cute and sheepish, as you wave her goodbye.

 Dick stares at you with slack-jawed awe. This time you feel genuinely bashful but you shrug it away with a sharklike grin spreading across your face.

“Pay up, pretty bird,” you say slamming the number on the table, teeth gleaming in the low light of the room. The petty satisfaction oozing off of you is almost palpable. Dick looks up at you, his pretty mouth twisting.  “What are you? Seven?”

 “If by seven you mean lucky, then yeah,” you sneer, nudging your empty shot glass against Dick’s shoulder. “Pay up, Dickenson~” you sing. Dick’s face twists even more and he waves you off, pushing off the table.

 “Let’s just go,” Dick bites out, cheeks burning. You bite your lips trying to resist the urge to tease him more but it’s hard. Not when he’s all pouty and cute.  

 “I mean you did just wine and dine me,” you laugh musically. You promised yourself you would stop teasing him but you never said you would stop making jokes. There’s a complicated expression on Dick’s face before it shifts back to exasperation. 

 “You. Are. Awful.”

 You shake your head not even denying it as you follow him out of the old Dog and Duck into the fresh Bludhaven air. 

“How are you good at this?” Dick whines into one of your throw pillows. The poorly counterfeit superman one he had gotten you a few years ago from a trip to the Philippines. He's pouting at you like a kid. To be fair, you did laugh at him in the club (and the whole way back to your safehouse which was not a short walk).

 You chuckle, tapping a cool can of beer against his forehead.“Sadly some of us need to work at being charming, Dimples McGee.” He accepts the can, scowling at you. Your grin doesn’t waver which only serves to deepen his scowl. It was an irritating feedback loop. Well, irritating for Dick. You’re having the time of your life. You settle on the other side of the couch rolling your beer can in your hand. “ Plus, you’ve seen pops talk right? The man sweet talks like his life depends on it.” 

 “Right, I’ll remember to ask him for flirting advice next time he tries to kill me,” Dick says, rolling his eyes at you. You perk up at the awful idea before you snicker and press a hand to your lips in a barely held back smile. It’s Dick’s turn to perk up. His blue eyes shine with interest at your expression like he’s trying to capture it. You turn to him with a serious expression. “Please, please ask him that. I will pay you to record his reaction. Please. Please. Dickle, please,” you beg, moving on your knees to his side, your hands clasped in prayer.  Dick shifts sticking his tongue out at you childishly. 

 “Noooooo!”

 “Pleeeeeeaaaaaseee”

 “No!”

 With an ‘oof’, you plop yourself between Dick’s legs, your chest against his. You stare up at him with eyes mimicking the wide-eyed innocent look he uses on you when he asks for a favor. Dick gives you a sorry look asking you to please drop it. You don’t. You double down trying to look as cute as possible. 

 Dick looks down at you, glaring then grimacing then smiling. “Ok, fine,” he huffs stiffly, wrapping his arms around you. You snuggle up against him, smug in your victory.  Your nose brushes against Dick’s pulse which makes his breath hitch. He squirms under you but you just find yourself laughing. “You. Are. Evil. ”

 “I promise to make your Granny’s goulash,” you say in a halfhearted attempt to appease him. Dick’s face softens  “Now, that’s just bribery.”

 “You’re gonna be a cop here in Bludhaven. You gotta learn how to take bribes.”

 His brows crease as you shake your head. Dick huffs, planting his chin against the crown of your head before pressing his lips to your hair. You feel one of his arms pulling you closer, his hand threading through the tangle of your hair. You smile against his skin, breath tickling him which just makes him squirm. He’s breathless under your touch and you don’t even know it. You two sit basking in the close proximity and the soft intimacy you two shared. Your limbs tangle and twine around each other carelessly. 

 Out of context, you two could have been lovers. 

 You sigh, feeling a bit drowsy from the ‘tussle’. You blink, mind reaching for something. “Wait…. Brucie flirts like his life depends on it too! What’s your excuse?” you grin, jabbing a finger into his chest. Dick scowls at you, clearly flustered again. He stammers, babbling out answers. “Hey, I- I could probably do it...” Dick mutters, finally finding a semblance of coherence. 

  “After that performance?” You challenge, sitting up, eyebrow raised and arms crossed. A sharp laugh spills from your lips. It’s louder than you intended, your entire chest moving along with every exhalation of air. 

 Dick looks at you like a kicked puppy which has you roaring with laughter. “You don’t have to laugh that hard”

 “Admit it, Grayson, you are an actual bonafide dork”

 “I’ll bonafide you,” he growls and you’re bent into the couch cushions, clutching your stomach. Dick looks like your house plant like he’s about to disintegrate. You sit up again and cross your legs. Your lungs expand as you draw in another calming breath before you give him a softer, lopsided smile, placing a hand on his knee and shaking him gently. “Come on, practice on me I’m probably one of the few people you don’t have a stick up your ass around.” Dick, not getting up, puts his hands in his face looking positively mortified by the idea. You make a little affronted noise in the back of your throat and thanks to whatever god is up there that you don’t seem to know how much he doesn’t wanna fuck up flirting with you.   

 “I don’t know how to!” The cry is muffled but the mortification still bleeds through. The admission startles something out of you. “Holy shit, Nightwing can’t flirt his way out of a paper bag. Oh my god, this is great!” you cackle, falling into the cushions. 

 “I’m trying damn it!”

 “Ok. Ok. Ok.” You breathe. You’re still clutching your still aching stomach. You wish you recorded that confession.  “Ok. Phew. Ok, I need a minute,” you say folding over into the cushions again, another bubble of laughter rising in your throat. This is the best ab workout you’ve had in months. 

 “Take your time,” Dick deadpans, rolling his eyes, color rising in his tanned cheeks. 

 “Ooook, I think I’m good. First, we need to work on your wink.”

 “The hell is wrong with my wink?” A wry smile tugs at the corner of your lips. You make vague hand gestures, hoping somehow you could physically pluck the correct words from the air.  “Just try winking, Ric.” Dick raises his brow but gives in. He winks at you in his usual devilishly charming way. You shake your head. “Wink at me like you’re trying to get my number.”

He stiffens and gives you the most artificial wink you’ve seen outside of a bad 50s flick. You drag your hand over your face. “How come you can wink so naturally while fighting and look like you work at in car sales when you flirt”

 Dick tries again. He ends up closing both his eyes and scrunching his nose- looking like a disgruntled puppy. You squeal and Dick’s eyes fly open. Your mouth works to flatten itself but your mind is still picturing the expression. “What?” he growls. You wave him off. “Sorry. Sorry. Just- just try again. Please.” 

 Dick gives you another stiff wink and you’re surprised to find yourself cringing at your best friend for the first time in your life. You drag your hand over your face. “You look like you’re trying to ask me to prom.”

 “You’ve never even been to a prom!”

 “Who do you think scares off Joey’s dates? Pops?” you snort picking up your beer can and taking a sip.  “Did you miss the absentee father part?”

 You both silently agree to move on. 

 “How the flying fuck did you date both Babs and Kory with your atrocious flirting skills?”

 “I have good pick up lines.”

 “Uh, sure, buddy.”

 “It worked on both of them!”

 “Well, hit me.”

 “Call me Fred Flintstone,”  you wait patiently, “cause I’ll make your bedrock.” Another artificial wink. 

 You blink at him, mind still trying to catch up. “Dick you are the epitome of ‘you’re lucky you’re cute’,” you groan, palm flat against your forehead. 

 “I’m not cute! I’m handsome!” Dick protests, mouth twisting into a pout. A shrill squeal is dying in the back of your throat as you draw a breath. You pinch his cheeks, “you pouting just furthers my point.”

 “Are you just trying to destroy my confidence?” Dick whines, lightly shoving you away. 

 “Oh no, the girl back at the club did that. I am just dancing on your grave.”

 “Give me another wink.”

 Dick fails at winking, again. You cringe openly at him and he scowls at you halfheartedly, more defeated than angry. Dick’s used to being good at things, you supposed. You tap your finger against your chin, trying to unspool a thought and rethread it into words. “Ok, figured out one of your problems.”

“Aside from my terminal dorkiness?”

 “You’re too nervous-”

 “You would be too,” Dick cuts in. 

You snicker, teeth bared in a mocking grin. ”Did you miss the part where I got her number?” Dick refuses to answer. You sigh but you can’t keep the smile off your face. “Let’s start with body language because for a guy with so much muscle control you are shit at this.”

 “You’re just gonna keep being mean,” he moans. 

 “I’ll stop being mean when you sweep me off my feet,” you jab. 

 “Ok, fine, maestro. What do you need me to do?”

  “You’ve got to lean into me and smile coyly,” you say vaguely.  Dick leans in close, your noses touching, his lips ghosting over yours. You can feel his breath hot against your lips. It sends bolts of electricity careening through your nerves. Your brain takes its sweet time catching up, giving your body ample time to soak up the proximity of the almost kiss. You gasp then reign yourself in. “Dickle, that’s- that’s a teensy bit too close,” you laugh awkwardly, hands playfully shoving at his chest. 

 Dick shakes out of his haze. “You said to lean in!” he says leaning into your space again. “Yeah, I did but I never said lean in close enough to eat my face. I can smell the gin in your breath,” you snort airly, pushing at his chest again. 

 Dick sits back, embarrassment creeping into his features. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth as if he’s thinking carefully about his next few words. “I’m just-” Dick puts his head in his hands. “Like you said, I’m too nervous.” 

 You raise a brow. The sound that comes out of you is too sharp and disbelieving to be a laugh. “Pfffft, it’s just me, you dork.”

 That’s the problem, Dick thinks. It’s you. The exasperation bleeds into his features. Dick fidgets, shifting and shaking in his seat like a wet chihuahua. Don’t you know how much he wants to get this right for you?. 

 “Stop twitching! You look like you’re having a seizure.”

 “I’m nervous!!” he says. “Don’t you ever get nervous about a person you like?”

 You side eye him. “I do,” you admit, rubbing your thumb over your tattoo out of habit. Dick’s eyes widen, then narrow. You see the word ‘who’ forming on his lips but his train of thought is cut off by the sound of Yasiri’s tail rattling against your skin as she emerges. Your poor danger noodle is likely frustrated with the lack of progress. You quietly thank her by scratching her chin.  “Whatever made this world just decided that you had to have at least one very obvious flaw,” you say, insincerely patting him on the back.

 “You're enjoying this.”

 “Way more than you think,” you say grinning at him. Dick simply grimaces at you. “You’re not helping me.”

 “Were you really expecting me to help?” You shrug. “Why would I do that?”

 “I’d help you!”

 You level him with a flat look. “No, you wouldn’t. You’d laugh just as hard as I did.” Dick opens his mouth then closes it. He opens it again. You raise your brow at him. “ I- ok yeah. No, I would laugh harder,” he says, giving you a cheeky, lopsided smile. Vindication and something warmer tug your features into a smile.

 “Just… relax and be yourself,” you mock sagely. Dick rests his head on yours. “ I hate you,” he groans, pressing his shoulder into yours. 

  “You’re just thinking about it too much,” you say, pressing back, “just do what’s natural. The more you over try the funnier it is.”

 “Goes back to my problem of being nervous,” he huffs into your hair. You boop his nose. “Goes back to my point about you overthinking things.”

 “I’m not!”

 “Fine.”

 “Fine?”

 “Fine,” you say, reaching back and presenting your danger noodle in your palm, "practice on Yazzy.”

 “You’re not serious?”

 You hold up the clearly unamused snake eye level with Dick. “Go on." Dick gives you a withering look. He exasperates, then looks deep into Yasiri’s black eyes. He opens his mouth and Yasiri flicks her tongue at him. The next few things happen in quick succession. Dick’s body relaxes. His face breaks into a smile that makes your heart flutter. He lets out a bubble of laughter that has you jumping and reaching for your own breath. "I can't!" he gasps. You both dissolve into laughter. 

 “Suit yourself - but prepare to have blue balls," you grin, punching his shoulder, "at least, they'll match your new suit!" you cackle. Dick flushes red.“I - I - you are legally the worst and most unhelpful human being in modern history!”

 Your cackle rises higher even as Dick shoves a pillow in your face. You push it away and wipe the tears away from your eyes. “Just practice on me, go on,” you say, reaching out, “once more." He frowns at you. "Please?”

 Dick closes his eyes. His movements become leisurely the way you've seen him when he's about to do a routine on the trapeze. “Do you have a map?” he says, pushing a strand of hair out of your eyes. The oxygen in your lungs evaporates. Heat spreads from the line of skin Dick’s finger grazed to the rest of your body. You swallow trying not to collapse under the weight of his gaze. You realize he's expecting an answer. "No, why?” you stammer out stupidly. 

  “Because I keep getting lost in your eyes,” he says, eyes glittering in the dim lights of your apartment. Some part of your brain short circuits, fizzing out in sparks and fire, then the rest of your brain follows. The entire structure goes out in a puff of smoke. You're completely frozen. Dick watches you with a furrowed brow, bottom lip caught between your teeth. Apprehension rolls off of him in waves and you can feel your lungs work again. "Exactly! Exactly that!" You squeal in delight. Dick smiles relieved. "I knew you could do it, you magnificent dork. I could kiss you right now!" you say squishing his cheeks and pressing your forehead against his. Dick’s breath catches. There's a hopeful look in his eyes. "Would you?" 

 Something clogs your throat as you pull away. You're pretty sure it's your heart. You force the nervous laughter in your throat into something else. "Need practice with that too, Dickens?" 

 "Dunno," he hedges, eyes holding yours, "you tell me." His hand cups the side of your face. You ease into his touch like a marshmallow dissolving into hot cocoa. "Can I?" he whispers, thumb brushing against your bottom lip. He's being careful with you you realize. Your eyes flutter closed. You can feel your nerves disentangling. They cross and recross so that you're fully aware of your lips. The gap between the two of you is small but it feels so impossibly big. Anticipation, anxiety, and excitement all thicken the spaces between you. You want him. You want this. Is it so wrong? 

 "Yes."

Tag list:  @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell   @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red

[adamantiumdragonfly]

“...A time when the United States is what we fight for...” 

The occupants of the Grisham Hall boarding house were no strangers to the war effort. Brothers, cousins, old flames, and sweethearts have been wrenched from their grasp, the only contact to their stolen loved ones is military grade pencils and scraps of paper. Estelle prides herself on her mind for numbers but a usurper from her past rears his russet head and threatens to steal her thoughts every chance he gets. Bessie has been searching for a home in every patron in that cafe but she’s left seeing his face everywhere she looks. Constance hears her lover’s voice on the wind, finding quiet in the graveyard shift of the machine shop. Margaret refuses to admit defeat but the distance between her letters and her love grows wider each day. Jeannette has read many stories about tragic heroes. Her childhood friend has told tales of his plans for wealth and ending the war on his own. She just hopes she has a chance to do her part first.  

taglist: @rinadoesstuff @vintagelavenderskies @julianneday1701  @wexhappyxfew @junojelli @jamie506101-deactivated20210209 @trashgoddess600 @pilindieltheelf @sunnyshifty @rogue-sunday @easy-company-tradition  @pxpeyewynn @50svibes​

No Ordinary Time

When the doorbell rang at the Grisham Hall for Ladies, it was a house-wide thrill, shivering down the very spine of the building and sending chills into every resident. A doorbell ring, with its chime calling every girl to their feet in a downward flight, could mean one of two things: a visitor or a postman. Visitors, particularly of the sought after male variety, were scarce since the war had been put on to boil some three years previously. Now, with the residents tending home fires and not the flaming passions of suitors, a postman was more likely. A postman, or rather post-boy, were the only kindling to the fires of romance. 

But, on a dim March morning with the sky heavy and ready to bleed, the doorbell had been run and so began the usual stampede of pumps on hardwood floors. There should have been only two possibilities and yet, Jeannette Edwards wasn't a postman or anything that the anxiously awaiting faces expected. She had rung the bell and stepped back in surprise and a tiny bit of fright at the fervor and hunger that met her behind the door wrenched from it’s frame by a seemingly harmless girl. 

She shouldn’t have been so ferocious of a predator as she seemed, this little thing with short brown hair and a dickie color edged in red ribbon but Jeannette stepped back all the same. This hadn’t been what Jeannette had expected either. 

Grisham had come highly recommended, as a good, upstanding place for good, upstanding girls. Jeannette thought she had fit that description rather well and had packed her things in the carpet bag she now clutched tightly in one whitened fist. Could this carpet bag that had first belonged to her mother be used as a weapon to fend off this frightening girl and her hungry eyes? 

“You aren’t Davis,” The girl huffed and moved to shut the door. Jeannette hadn’t come all the way from Hughestown to be turned away by someone looking for a Davis but she didn’t move fast enough. 

A hand, surely one of God’s angels come down from heaven, stopped the door before the girl could shut Jeannette out from her new home. 

“Sorry about that,” The hand’s owner said. She might as well have been an angel as she pushed the door open again, giving full view of her face. Not nearly as intimidating as this little rabid creature before her but there was something in her dark eyes that didn’t set Jeannette completely at ease. 

“Oh,” Jeannette said. “That’s quite alright.” 

“It isn’t really. Bess turns into a monster when she hasn’t heard from her beau in a few days,” The girl said, tossing her long black curls over her shoulder. She wore them loose, a stark contrast to the tight pins in the other girl, Bess’s, locks of chestnut brown. “Sorry you had to be in her path.” 

“Who’s Davis?” Jeannette stammered, gripping her carpet bag tighter and trying not to wobble in her too big pumps. She had bought them before the war, when she had still been hopeful that she’d grow to fit them. But with spending frivolously unpatriotic and her shoe size stubbornly remaining, Jeannette had been left with loose pumps and aching feet. 

“THERE HE IS!” Bess leapt past Jeannette, brushing her roughly in her flight off the wooden porch and flying into the dripping rain. She wore no shoes and her bobby socks were soaked on the puddled pavers as she ran towards the approaching youth in a yellow raincoat. 

“Davis is the mail carrier.” the dark haired girl explained. “He was running late today. We get antsy when we don’t get our letters. I’m sorry I don’t think I-” 

“Jeannette.” She extended her hand. “Jeannette Edwards.” 

Those dark eyes studied her, flicking over her navy blue hat into which her frizzy tomato red hair was tucked, all the way down her too big pumps before shaking Jeannette’s outstretched hand. “Estelle Tran.” 

Behind those dark eyes lay a studious mind that wrote down every variable and equation the world threw at her, bringing up the final unfair sum and accepting it as fact. Estelle was a woman of facts, something that Jeannette rarely dealt in. 

The idea of chasing a mail carrier down flooded steps to retrieve a sought-after letter had never once crossed Jeannette’s mind but it seemed these girls found it a daily occurrence. Jeannette’s gaze was cast to the left of the doorway where the mailbox was hung, the address and the name of the establishment emblazoned on the wood in cut out letters. 

“I’m sorry, I believe I came to the wrong place,” She said, gesturing at the box where the “I” had been replaced by a mystifying “E”. “I’m looking for Grisham Hall,” 

“Oh you are in the right place,” Bess jogged back up the path, her stockings slapping against the stone pavers like webbed feet. “We knocked the ‘I’ off and had to make do. Grisham, Gresham. It’s all the same, really,” 

“Jeannette Edwards,” The redhead pushed her hand forward, offering it to the creature who had been ready to shut her out in this damp cold. Bess seemed in better spirits now, a wad of letters in her hand.

“Elizabeth Ferguson,” Her bobbed brown hair bounced against her cheeks as Elizabeth leaned forward to take Jeannette’s hand. “You can call me Bess, Beth, I really don’t mind. Crops good this week,” Bess turned to Estelle and waved the mail under her companion’s nose. 

“Stop waving and let me look,” Estelle plucked the letters from Bess’s hands, holding them out of reach as the brunette leapt for them. 

“Hang on,” Bess cried, trying in vain to reach the envelopes. “Two of them are for me.” 

When the correspondence had been returned to their rightful recipient, Bess squealed and darted back into the house, sliding across the foyer in her slick stockings. 

“Better wake Connie and Margo,”  Estelle called over her shoulder as she sorted through the last of the letters. She turned to go inside but paused, as if remembering that Jeannette was there, out in the drizzling rain and the damp air. “You are looking for Grisham Hall, aren’t you?” 

“Yes,” Jeannette said. “I’m-” 

“The new tenant,” Estelle finished for her. “Mrs. G told us. Come on then,” 

Allowing herself to be waved inside, Jeannette cast her gaze around the foyer of cherry-stained wood and bright electric lights, a stark contrast to the gloom and doom of the world outside. The scent of lemon cleaner that hung in the air was the same brand that Jeannette’s mother had used in the houses she cleaned. A strange connection between the hills of Pennsylvania and the riverside of Virginia that was a comfort as much as a weight. This house was far too clean to be anything from Jeannette’s home and it fit the bill for good and upstanding. This house was the picture of American dreams and patriotism with it’s large staircase and adjoining room for a grand piano and little else. 

Jeannette hung back as Estelle pushed her way further into the house as if she wasn’t stunned by the cherry-wood and lemon cleaner. Those too big shoes looked foolish and the wish for a pair that fit was unpatriotic in this bright house with it’s star banner in the window. Shuffling her feet, Jeannette cast her gaze down. 

“Mrs G!” Estelle shouted. Deep from the belly of this house, came a faint response. 

“She’s in the kitchen,” Estelle waited for Jeannette to follow her through the side door into a back hall, past the dining room set for an army and a sunroom that was dark under the storm brewing outside, and into the even brighter kitchen. 

“Mrs. G, Ms. Edwards is here,” Estelle called and the woman at the counter turned away from the scraps of dough, her hands dusted in flour. 

“I was expecting a call from the station,” Mrs. Grisham chided, wiping her hands across a spotless apron, sending a wince through Jeannette’s frame at the destruction of such clean linen.  “We were going to send the car with Constance.” 

“I took a bus and then a cab. It was no trouble,” Jeannette said. “I didn’t want to impose,”

Mrs. Grisham blustered and waved a hand, sending flour cascading into the air, assuring Jeannette that it was no trouble at all. She was a matronly, if not clumsy, woman who’s nice house and nice clothes set the tone for the good and upstanding boarding house she ran. The girls who had been in her care were loved fiercely and looked after tenderly with a maternal, if not iron, fist. She was no stranger to hard work and saw the running of this hall for ladies as her battlefield. While the muddied stairs and the young women were not German soldiers or Pacific islands, they were a worthy opponent all the same. 

 “I saw your banner, Mrs. Grisham,” Jeannette said, gesturing back the way she had come. “Your son?” 

Stars marked windows and hearts, declaring that the ultimate show of patriotism had been brandished in that home. Their home fires were stoked a little more vigorously and their women sat in wait a little more earnestly. Jeannette had seen many on her trip down from Pennsylvania and knew still more in her hometown; there it stung to put names to the stars in windows. 

“Yes,” Mrs. Grisham said, with a thin smile. “Arthur is in the Pacific. And you?” 

“Two brothers in North Africa,” Two stars for Jeannette’s mother. “A cousin in the Navy, and a friend. Last I heard, he was in England.” 

Those names were hard to forget. Brothers. Friends. Family. Everyone knew someone who was fighting, everyone had a letter that they could send. 

Her friend had taken up space in her mind since he had waved goodbye on that train. She carried those dark eyes and that crooked smile in her carpet bag across state lines and into Norfolk, etched into her memory with the letters and the memories. Jeannette hadn’t heard from him in several weeks and she was growing steadily more concerned. They had grown up together and he had always been in her life in some form or fashion, in letters or in days under the trees. 

“Mine too!” Bessie cried. “Postmarked Aldbourne.” 

“Now, you know how Estelle feels about all this talk,” Mrs. Grisham said softly. “Did you have your address changed, dear? Letters are a big to-do around here.” 

Jeannette didn’t cling to every letter, every word at first.  She hadn’t known what a lifeline those pencil-etched papers of military issued paper, in the storm of the current world. She had begun to see how impervious the lead was to the wiles of the storms. 

“My mother will forward any letters from home,” Jeannette said. 

“Now, enough of all this letter talk,” Mrs. Grisham said. “You got a job on base, didn’t you?” 

Jeannette nodded. 

“You are in luck. Most of the girls here work on base and there is always plenty of room in the car. Dinners and breakfasts are as a home but lunches are up to you. I trust you’ll join us tonight? I’ve been saving my coupons.” 

“Mrs. G is making her apple pie,” Bessie said. “It ranks 4th best.” 

“I will win first place, mark my words,” Mrs. G teased. “You’ll find we are very relaxed here, Jeannette. I don’t care much what you get up to, just keep your wits about you. These Navy men-” Mrs. Grisham shuddered as if repelled by the thought of that branch of the US military. “Bess and Estelle will show you your room. You’ll have to share.” 

Once Jeannette had assured Mrs. G that she had shared a room her whole life and it didn’t matter to her, the landlady smiled and waved them up the back staircase. Following the damp footprints of Bess up the third floor, she let her eyes wander to the photos on the walls. Scenic views of the river that Jeannette knew was only a few miles away shared space with the portraits of a young boy and a much younger Mrs. Grisham. Beside her was the assumed Mr. Grisham, who’s dark eyes followed Jeannette up the stairs long after his face had ceased to be represented in the family photographs. It was almost poetic, to see the changes in the family as Jeannette followed Bess and Estelle up the stairs. 

Between the days by the river and the picnic blankets on the beach,  Arthur grew up and Mrs. Grisham grew grayer. Jeannette had been a girl prone to empathy often to her detriment and felt the pang of nostalgia deeper as they ascended till the final frame on the landing showed the now older and grimmer son who Jeannette had seen as a child not seven steps back, dressed up in his uniform. Bess and Estelle had passed these photos daily and knew the stories behind them, having seen Arthur in the flesh before the Navy had stolen him away. They felt the pang as Jeannette did, but sharper. They knew the shy and quiet boy wasn’t in that uniform.  

They ignored the second floor, leaving Mrs. Grisham’s shrine to how things had been before Arhtur untouched and continued to the third floor, where the photos were scarce and replaced with paintings of long forgotten relatives and odd landscapes. Bess paused to point out that the oar on the side of the boat depicted wasn’t actually an oar but a “sneaky duck. I didn’t know until Carrie told me. Looks like an oar, doesn’t it?”

“I suppose it does,” Jeannette admitted. “Did a Grisham paint it?” 

Estelle turned from where she stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at the lagging Jeannette and Bess. “The previous owner of this house, a great aunt of Mrs. Grisham’s, Beverly Simmons, was an amatuer artist.” 

“Emphasis on the amatuer,” Bess muttered as she jogged up the last few steps. “Mrs. G doesn’t want to see ducks that look like boats on the main floor so we are forced to look at their sorry tails everyday.” 

“I don’t think they look that bad,” Jeannette said, wanting to defend the ducks. She tilted her head, getting a better look. “Well…” 

“They wear on you after a few weeks,” Estelle said, beckoning Jeannette up the stairs. ”You’ll see.” 

The frightening vision of these misshapen ducks waddling up the stairs after her was enough to quicken Jeannette’s pace, securing her safety on the landing where Estelle and Bess had already moved on. 

“You’ll be on the left,” Bess said, poking her head into a doorway and shouting, “Margo! Calm down, it’s just me. You’ve got a letter.” 

The landing had an overstuffed armchair, a bookcase where all the inhabitants leaned to the left, and a single window that sent slanting gray light onto the wooden floor that creaked under Jeannette’s uncertain feet. It looked like a cozy place to sit and read on a rainy day such as this if there hadn’t been a weight in the air. It wound between the branching doorways, under the floorboards, and sank into Jeannette’s bones. It was an anticipation that was as intoxicating as it was melancholy. 

The American homefront had known only one thing in the two years since they had found themselves in a simmering war and had taken it upon themselves to bring it to an unrelenting boil. In the heat of the flames of passion, love, and patriotism, the country was left with an immense shadow. The waiting. Like dolls abandoned in their beautifully crafted house, dust collected on their painted, smiling faces. 

Jeannette had known the numbing of waiting, the thrill of the letter in her hands, the way she held them so tightly. Her mother hadn’t understood, quite so deeply. Ada didn’t understand, quite so sharply. She had never felt it as strongly as she did in this house. Women in a war but not fighting for it. Women who were aching for those who did fight but putting up their own battles. It was almost poetic, the anticipation. 

This anticipation had become the drive behind her movement, the striking match to her move down to Norfolk. This fire needed to be stoked by more than just letters. Ink didn’t catch  quite like working for the war effort. Jeannette had been fond of the meter and beat of poetry, finding solace from the cole-tinged air in the yellowed pages of Maffei, and Shakespeare. Her brothers and their friends never understood her obsession, save one. He would sneak books from the library in Pittston and slide them under her window. Jeannette smiled at the memory. She had spent many summer nights poking her head out that window, looking for what literature had been left in the window box of daisies. 

“On the left, she said?” Jeannette looked at Estelle and pointed to the first door on the left. She made for the handle, palm grazing the cool metal when Estelle’s voice cut through the weight like a sharp knife. 

“Not that room!” She snapped. 

Jeannette would have stepped back if her shoes weren’t prone to wobbling so dangerously. She settled for snatching her hand back from the cold doorknob. Estelle’s fire had subsided but there was no apology, no retraction of her word. Jeannette didn’t offer an apology. She didn’t know what she had done. 

“Oh, Jeannette,” Bess said, coming to her rescue. “Not that left. That’s Carrie and...Oh never mind, I’ll show you.”��

Jeannette was ushered toward the next door and winced as Bess shouted at the inhabitant. “CONNIE! YOU’VE GOT A LETTER!” 

There was a long stretch of silence followed by the snuffling sounds of deep sleep. Jeannette’s prospective roommate seemed to be undisturbed by Bess’s screech while Jeanette’s own ears were still ringing. 

“Constance works nights with my roommate, Margaret,” Bess explained, her voice not at all strained by the scream from a moment before. “They are machinists on the aircraft for the Navy. We don’t see them very often.”

The carpet bag was suddenly quite heavy in Jeannette’s hand and tugged on her already aching shoulders. Bess noticed her wince and took pity on her new housemate. “Constance, I’m sorry but I have to turn on the light.” 

The dark, peaceful oasis was suddenly illuminated by the light overhead and the lamp on the bedside that Bess mercilessly flicked on. Jeannette glanced around the now visible furniture, that no longer looked like looming creatures from nightmares. An empty bed, a dresser opened to reveal barren drawers, and a desk with the stability of a drunken sailor fresh from sea duty.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite alarm clock,” The lump of blankets that Bess insisted was Constance, said, her voice muffled. “Morning, Beth,” 

“Very funny, Constance,”  Bess said. “Do you want your letter or not?” 

A calloused hand, scarred and rough from the late nights among the heavy machinery and scrabbling over metal carcasses of aircraft, withdrew from the quilts. Bess placed the offering in the waiting palm and, like the jaw of a predator, the hand snapped it up eagerly, drawing back to the safety of the quilts. 

“Do you need help unpacking?” Bess asked Jeannette brightly. “I’m an ace at moving. I’ve helped most everyone on the floor. Except Estelle, of course, she’s been here since before the “I” fell.” 

Bess was, indeed, an ace at packing and unpacking. This skill had been cultivated long before she had received her first letter, before she had been the smiling waitress at that destined cafe, when she was just Elizabeth Ferguson. Jeannette liked Bess. It was impossible not to. There was something about her short brown hair framing her face and the big brown eyes that made her so endearing and begged to be helpful. Jeannette couldn’t say no. 

“If you don’t mind,” She started to say. 

“I don’t!” Bess said, snatching up the carpet bag and throwing open the wardrobe on Jeannette’s side of the room.  

Jeannette had never known a great abundance of belongings. Most of her life, she had seen this as an embarrassment, to know few and to have few seemed to be a weakness. That was, until she had accepted the translator position in Norfolk and packed up what little she had into a carpet bag. The carpet bag that had housed her pieces from home, her few books, and the clothes that had been worn through all in the name of the war effort, was thrown open. Bessie Ferguson no longer stood in that room, but a whirlwind of limbs, flying clothes, and knick knacks being placed just so. 

“Where are you from, again?” Bessie asked, not waiting for a response, before plunging on with the next question. “Your brothers are in North Africa? I have a brother. He’s not fit for service, lucky bastard. Don’t tell Mrs. G that I swore-” 

“Beth,” Constance groaned, tossing back the covers. “What time is it?” 

“A quarter past four,” Jeannette supplied, glancing at her watch. 

“I was hoping to get another hour,” Constance sat up, letter still in hand. She smirked at its contents.  

“Another poem?” Bess asked, setting Jeannette’s Shakespeare and Maffei volumes on the teetering desk. “Connie’s beau is something of a poet.” 

Constance’s mussed curls bounced as she shook her head at the younger girl’s words.  “That’s generous of you, Beth,” 

Whether or not the gift of prose was possessed by her pen pal, Constance didn’t seem to mind. Her sea green eyes scanned the page, soaking up every thoughtful word and stumbling line. Her fire was stoked by the glint of steel at night and the scrabble of poems written to the “lady by the sea”. It mattered not that Norfolk was on a river, not the Atlantic, the letters were addressed like that and she would be lying if she said she didn’t like the title. 

Constance peeled back the blankets to set free the cat trapped beneath the coverlet, and chuckled at a particularly horrid, if not well meant, line. Her eyes fixed on Jeannette and extended a calloused hand to the newcomer. 

“Constance Ramos. You must be Jeannette,” 

The redhead nodded, accepting the rough hand in her own and giving it a shake. “I don’t suppose we will be seeing a lot of each other. I’m on the day shift.” 

Constance shrugged. “We’ll be like ships in the night. We keep busy around here.” 

“Passes the time,” Bess agreed. 

“Between letters?” Jeannette guessed. 

“We sound crazy about those damn letters, don’t we?” Constance said, chuckling softly. Her bare feet didn’t make a sound on the wooden floor as she stretched out her aching muscles. “They keep us going, more than a war effort ever could. I can keep bolting sheets of metal when I know my soldier is alive and when I don’t hear from him, it gets heavier. Do you understand?” 

“I do,” Jeannette murmured. 

Those letters had made a ship to steer among the waves of this new world Jeannette found herself in. Uprooted and unfamiliar, she clung to the letters signed with their scribbled J and the indiscernible followers. The thought of buying that ticket from Pennsylvania to Virginia had been encouraged by the letters in her pocket. If he could be thousands of miles from home for her, she could be transplanted to a new state for the aid of the troops.   

Connie glanced over the books on the teetering pile of poetry on the desk as Bess hummed along to some tune.  “You like to read?” 

“Yes,” Jeannette said. “My mother had mostly Italian books but I have some in English now.” 

The English volumes had been collected over the years, from the window box of daisies to the exchanges on the hill overlooking the breaker. The last book, The Grapes of Wrath, had been the final exchange on that hill. He had been given his orders and was only on leave for a few days. He had brought her a book. He had asked if he could write to her. Jeannette had said yes. Jeannette had cried. There had been no romantic declarations or bouts of infatuation. The words had been plain, just how he liked them and how Jeannette despised them. 

Bess shut the wardrobe with a snap and turned, her skirt swishing around her knees and damp socks. “You a translator on base?” 

Jeannette paused, not sure how much was allowed to be discussed. This attic seemed as safe as could be but what did those posters promise? Ships sunk by the careless whispers of loose lips. Glancing at the window, as if a German spy would be listening from the third floor windowsill, Jeannette nodded quickly. 

“Oh you’ll likely see Estelle!” Bess cried. “She’s working as a computer on base.” 

Dumbfounded at the disregard for secrecy, Jeannette sputtered. “Shouldn’t we-” 

“Who’s going to hear us?” Connie shook her head. “We all know how to keep a secret.” 

Bess nodded, setting the now empty carpet bag on the neatly made bed. She hadn’t been kidding about her skills in unpacking. Jeannette had barely had time for a single melancholy notion about the blouse she had worn to the movies with her friends or the books with the coal stained fingerprints. Jeannette hadn’t noticed this room becoming her own but in the space of a few moments, it looked like her childhood bedroom. The quilt was the same, the books were present and accounted for. It looked like home. 

“Speaking of secrets,” Bess said, snatching up the patchy tabby cat set free from Connie’s bed and cuddled it tight to her black sweater, not minding the fur shed across the yarn. “Are you going to hide that poem from us, Connie?” 

Constance blushed. “Maybe Jeannette can give it an educated read. I’m dying to know if my pen pal has a future in the arts,” 

Jeannette flushed. Her hobby of studying beat, meter, and stanza had been an asset to her application for the NIS but she was hardly a professional. Perhaps, more of an avid appreciator. Her love of poetry hadn’t been the final mark in her favor for her application. The real seal to her employment had been the native fluency that having an Italian mother and late father provided. 

“I’d be delighted to provide an opinion,” Jeannette smiled, sitting on the lumpy mattress where she would rest her weary bones for the foreseeable future. 

Constance cleared her throat, making a big show of unfolding the letter and straightening her flannel pajamas. 

“Someday I'll get back to you/ When the war is finally won/Then you know just what we'll do In the sheets-” 

The rest was cut off by Bess’s shriek of surprise and a cackling laugh from Constance. Jeannette’s cheeks flushed red but couldn’t help a bark of laughter escaping her mouth, never mind the good and upstanding standard that Grisham ladies were known to uphold. 

“Do you all get such poems?” Jeannette wheezed. 

Bess’s mouth gaped in shock at such a suggestion, only furthering Constance’s giggles. 

“I have never gotten such a thing from-” Bessie started to say but was cut off by the appearance of Estelle in the doorway. Drawn by the laughter and shrieks, her brow furrowed at the neatly put together room but the girls in various states of disarray found there. 

“What’s all this then?” 

“Another poem,” Bess said. “And no, Jeannette, I don’t get that kind of poetry from Dar-” 

“Don’t say their names, Bessie,” Estelle chided, in the same sharp tone. As if Bess had put her handle onto a door she didn’t understand what lay beyond. “You’ll get attached.” 

“I’d say it’s too late for that,” Constance said, folding up the letter and stowing it under her pillow. It wasn’t a disagreement but the statement of a fact. 

“You say their name and they can break your heart,” Estelle said. It sounded as a warning to Jeannette.

“I don’t think names hold much power over love,” Jeannette whispered, almost to herself but Estelle heard. 

Estelle’s calculations were rarely wrong. In mathematics and personal life, her calculations were quite often correct. Estelle was known to be the guardian of the third floor, taking the wandering women under her wing. While Jeannette had seen an angel, Estelle was a self described tragedy. She sought a way to shield each girl who crossed the wooden floors of Grisham Hall from such flights toward the sun. 

“We don’t tempt fate here,” Estelle said, firmly. 

A silence stretched between them. Estelle’s dark gaze and small stature didn’t lend itself to the imposing figure she truly was. Jeannette didn’t think she was afraid of Estelle. Jeannette didn’t know what she thought. There was a truth behind her words. The war bubbled and boiled around them and one couldn’t make too many plans for the future. Jeannette didn’t like to think more than one letter ahead. 

“Estelle is ever so jaded,” Bess said, chuckling softly, trying to break the tension. 

“I’m wise beyond my years,” Estelle winked at Bess but her steady gaze sent Jeannette’s skin crawling. “We don’t say their names so we don’t have to say goodbye.” 

                                       *        *       *

To the real horatio, 

I don’t suppose you can tell me where you are but know that I am safe in Norfolk. Mother will be forwarding any of your letters down to me. The girls I’m living with are quite the characters. 

Bess is a little younger than me but such a dear thing. She’s the embodiment of springtime. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as happy as she is. Estelle seems to be the ringleader around here, like Adrian was to us in our childhood. I’m still forming an opinion on her. Constance is my roommate and we’ve gotten on like a house on fire. She works night shifts at the shipyard but when we do see each other it’s always good fun. We went to the cinema last week and saw Citizen Kane on her day off. She’s making songs on the piano out of her boyfriend’s poems. It’s very entertaining and has caused our landlady to faint out of shock more than once. There’s also a girl named Margo who lives on our floor. I haven’t met her for more than a few minutes but she seems lovely. 

I’m glad to know that your CO is gone, the dreadful beast. 

I’ve started to read the book you gave me. I’d like to read it to you sometime, like we did in high school on the breaker hill. If I sent you one of my books would you read it and think of me? 

Your letters, as always, brighten my day. I know you fear that you have nothing of any interest to say but I find anything you say of interest. You say your words are not poetic but there is poetry in everything you do. You want to fly through the sky and end the war. While that’s admirable, do you know that I don’t expect this from you? 

I’ve known you without money. I’ve known you without fame or excellence. I don’t care if you have either. 

You are probably bothered by my ‘damn flowery words’. We’ve grown up together. Surely you are fluent in my own language by now. 

It’s late. I have an early shift tomorrow. Be safe. 

Love, Nettie

[sluggishslugcrimes]

Bruce wayne endless fight with candy

Because @starrystories2 exploits my lack of self control,,,

First day of October was coming soon and all the bats were just positively excited, sure halloween is amazing but the month of October had a tradition started when Dick Grayson came into the picture. Well, not right away; you see this tradition started when Bruce got a little cocky and said he could defuse a joker bomb and got hurt and Dick hurt too, Roy and Wally did not like that very much especially since they were told by Dick what was Bruce's last words before he did the most dumbest thing in Batman history. It's so weird that it happened, it's almost like a creator wants to take a mostly perfect man and ruin him from the inside. Strange. 

Anyway details ain't important what is important is two major details, one being that on October Bruce had reluctantly agreed to having candy thrown at him if they heard "because he's batman" in the context on fixing or just bring a cocky bastard when Iris Allen came in to "talk" with Bruce. Never seen Bruce so pale, so scared. Second, his friends get to stay over for a whole month to do this and once he got siblings beside the occasional Barb he made it a game, a very competitive game.

Though this year was very special! Damian had decided he wanted to stay with his family, and even gotten closer to everyone outside of Grayson, so now Dick has him join in the festivities. 

Waking into the movie room in the manor, he spotted his siblings watching a movie. Perfect. Grabbing the control from Jason with an annoyed, "hey!" following up with it he paused the movie and got in front of all of them. Back straight, game face one. "It's the last day in September guys." He pointed out with a devilish smile, everyone besides Damian cheers for they knew who's coming over! "What's so important about that Richard?" Damian asked, he knew october had halloween in it and the goth family do like their spooky season as you would guess, but the acrobat and others weren't this excited for Halloween… were they? "A very important tradition I started and Dami, and you can join this year's B.H.B. games!" The older had a gleam in his eye that was scary, he doesn't normally have it but today he does. "B.H.B.?" Damian questioned, moving his head to the side like a confused puppy, "because he's batman." Barbara answered for Dick, I swear this man just likes naming things. 

"Thanks Barbs, now this did start with Bruce being a tab bit too cocky on a mission getting us both mildly injured. His last words were 'because I'm batman' thus the shortened name, now how this game had become isn't important, but basically if you say 'because he's batman' my two best friends will throw candy bars at Bruce. Who has the most candy bars thrown at Bruce wins a whole month of doing whatever they want and this can be cashed in whenever you want it. You understand my little angel?" Dick mischievous side showed itself, not even the 'little angel' sounded as innocent as it normally did. Bruce was in for it. "I understand, it sounds fun and all, but why?" Jason rolled his eyes and got up from his chair, matching the same aura of Dick. "Because seeing Bruce pelleted by a snicker bar is funny, come on short stack tell me you don't want to see daddy get hit by candy?" Damian had to agree the thought was humorous on its own, nobody can keep a straight face with such an image. "Well don't bother playing because I will this time, mark my words Grayson!" Duke stated as he shot up; he was becoming more and more of the bats the longer he stayed here, Dick laughed placing his hands on his hip as everyone joined in the competitive banter.

Soon as the first of October and as the crisp cool air hits Dick's face as he stood outside waiting for his friends to arrive, Wally came first using speed while Roy used the Zeta Tube walking through the cave; he tried to sneak up on the young acrobat but failed, batman taught him well. "Dickie! I missed you so much!!" Wally jumped into a tight hug, Roy gave them both a short hug but the two didn't let him off the hook. "Great to see you guys again, got the stuff?" Roy and Wally lifted up very large cloth bags of candy bars, perfect. Absolutely perfect. "Cleared out three gas stations on my way here dude, paid with the cash you sent me." Wally told. After a few minutes of catching up they went inside to finally start the game.

Nowhere was safe for the vigilante. Nowhere. His kids all turned against him putting "because he's batman" into conversations that don't even fit for such a saying to be uttered, and the places! Fighting a person who is like you in some ways is one thing; Roy was human and trained by Oliver Queen so it was a bit fair with him, however Wally was a metahuman and faster after coming back from the speed force. He was outnumbered and yet deserving of said punishment… that saying really did came back to bite him in the ass.

 Bruce at a board meeting? Snickers.

Bruce taking a shower? Laffy taffy with a bathroom joke on it.

Bruce fighting the Riddler? Smack was a fast thrown starburst hitting him and the villain.

Zoom call? A payday bar, though that one was very appreciated. He was a tad bit hungry on that call.

So many bars hitting his face no matter what he was doing, and the worst part was he couldn't ask for help if he wanted to, Iris made sure everyone agreed on her punishment for the dark knight. Nobody messed with Iris, it wasn't smart too.

Hell Alfred had a chart for who had the most candy thrown at Bruce!

By the end of October all of the kids gathered around in the living room to hear who had the most candy, Barbara had the least as usual —she's barbara gordon she can take a break whenever she feels like it— so the rest were basically on the edge of their seat on who won. Wally was busy with little Lian —who also joined in, chanting it while Roy was throwing M&M at Bruce for a straight hour— so the announcement came from Roy holding the paper Alfred wrote with neat handwriting that the calligraphy fans would have an orgasm over. Yes, this is how canonly Alfred got chicks. 

By two points Damian won, his first time playing he won and no nobody purposely let him win either! After the celebration the two redheads had to leave and others left too, leaving Grayson and little Wayne to themselves. Sorta. They both decided to go on a patrol while Bruce glares at the kids coming for candy.

"So did you have fun dami?" The older asked after popping another M&M in his mouth whilst swinging his legs over the edge of a building, earning a now not-so-rare smile from the young Robin the kid was beaming from pride and joy. "It was fun, especially seeing how much of a sore loser Todd is after the announcement." He had a sly smile curled around a lollipop, asking what he'll use his prize on was not necessary, both of them know what he's going to do with it. 

[heyitsani]

Another Dream

Omega!Dick Week Day 6: Accidental Pregnancy

Word Count: 1841

Rating: Teen and Up

Warnings: Mpreg and Robincest (obviously)

Pairing: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd

Summary: Jason is in Brazil when a call about Dick collapsing while out on patrol with Damian comes in.

Notes: This seems like it’s going to be angsty, but it’s really just a fluff piece filled with love.  

Reminder: Day four’s story is being posted today as well because I didn’t want to spoil this one.

You can also read this on AO3 here

“Hood, come in.”

Jason cringed when the sound of Bruce’s Batman voice came over the comm line he had promised to keep on while he was out in South America with Artemis and Bizarro.  It had been years since he had gone on mission with them, but when they had called asking for help Dick had told them Jason would be there. And despite Jason pointing out that he could make his own decisions, Dick still insisted he go.  Gotham was covered and Bludhaven was good with just Nightwing, but he could call for backup if the need arose.  And James was thirteen, more than capable of looking after himself while Dick was out patrolling the city.  Even though Dick promised to have someone come stay with the teenager while he was out just to calm Jason’s worried.

So, Jason had reluctantly agreed.

That had been almost a week ago and though Jason still worried, the multiple times a day both Dick and James contacted him was enough to get the job done.

“What can I do for you Old Man?”  Jason asked, landing a kick to the chest of one of the thugs in the warehouse he and Bizarro were currently clearing out while Artemis took care of the kids that the scum had been gathering to sell.

“It’s Nightwing. You need to come back as soon as possible.”  Jason froze for a moment before punching the man in front of him and knocking him out cold. A glance toward Bizarro told him that the clone was finishing off the last of the men so Jason could focus on Bruce in his helmet.

“What do you mean ‘It’s Nightwing?’  What. Happened.”  He demanded, drawing Bizarro’s attention as the last guy went down and they were surrounded by silence.

“Birdie okay?”  Jason waved a hand to his partner to ask him to hold on the questions for a moment.

“Flamebird was patrolling with him while Superboy stayed with Jamie.  Nightwing and him were breaking up a bank robbery when Nightwing just dropped.  Red Robin picked the pair up and are headed to Leslie as we speak.”  No reasonable explanation for the drop.  No ‘he had been hit by a bullet’ or ‘he took a nasty punch to the face’.  Just he dropped.

“I’m in fucking Brazil, B,” Jason growled, starting to ziptie the thugs as Bizarro gathered them in a pile for the authorities to apprehend.  “It’s a ten-hour flight!  Unless you have a teleporter on hand.”

“No, you just need to get on a plane.  What airport are you near?  I’ll get your ticket set up.”  Jason spat out their location and he could hear Bruce typing into the computer on the other end.

“Birdie?”

“I don’t know, Bizarro,” Jason admitted carefully.  He knew that even though they had had minimal contact, Bizarro had fond memories of Dick. The clone also knew how much Jason loved Dick and that was enough to love him in his own way.

“You have an hour to get to the airport that’s twenty minutes away, Hood.”  Jason gave a grunt of acknowledgment.  “Do you have an earpiece for the flight so we can contact you once we hear more?”

“Yeah, I’ll set it to the same frequency.”  Bruce confirmed before signing off with a click and Jason lifted the face plate of his helmet.  “Let’s get to Artemis and then I need to run.”  Thankfully, he had all his needed documents for flying already on his person. But would have to have Artemis and Bizarro bring back his other gear when they came back to the states.

“What the Batman say about Birdie?”

“What’s this about Nightwing?”  Artemis called out from her spot next to a group of children.  A group that held a larger number than Jason had assumed, and it made him want to go put some bullets in skulls.

“He collapsed while on patrol with Robin.  They airlifted him to the hospital and B got me a ticket to fly home.  I need you two to bring my gear back when you fly back stateside.  I have to run,” Jason explained as they got closer to the redhead.  The woman looked him over thoughtfully before nodding. Jason removed his helmet the rest of the way and handed it to Bizarro before checking his ID and passport over, zipping his jacket closed to hide the emblem on his chest.  The guns and other various weapons went next and Artemis easily placed them on various spots in her gear.

“This is the close of this case.  We will be heading stateside within 24 hours.  We will contact you as soon as we are in Gotham.”  Jason nodded as he handed over the last of the items that would have him flagged on the flight before thanking them both.

“Just go to Birdie.”

Jason stormed through the front doors of Leslie’s, barely containing his strength so he didn’t break anything.

“Jason!”  Tim stood from his spot in the corner where he was apparently working on his laptop.  “He’s fine!”

“Then why didn’t B say what was wrong?  I’ve been waiting for almost half a fucking day, freaking out on a plane and trying not to be arrested for agitation.  Where is he?” He didn’t bother waiting for a response, pushing through the doors that led to the back.  He had been in this clinic enough times to know his way around.

“Ah Jason, Dick is in here with Bruce and your son,” Leslie waved him over as she stepped into the hallway. “He is fine, Jason.  I promise.  But he asked to keep the issue between me and him until you arrived and that is why you have not received word.  Bruce is, as you can imagine, quite beside himself,” Leslie filled him in as Jason walked quickly toward her and paused at the door.  He took a moment to look through the small window to see his husband sitting up in the bed with a smile on his face, their son curled up next to him on the bed.  Bruce occupied a chair next to the bed and he certainly looked irritated from the way he held himself.

“Jay,” Dick sighed, smiling at the sight of Jason pushing the door open and coming inside.

“Papa!”  James jumped off the bed and bounded over to Jason and immediately Jason picked the boy up into his arms.

“Hey Little Bird,” Jason hugged his son as he walked over to Dick’s bedside.  Leaning down, keeping James in his arms, he pressed a kiss to Dick’s lips and took a deep breath.  Something about his scent was different.  Not bad, and definitely familiar, but different.

“Bruce, James, would you two mind leaving the room for a moment while I have a discussion with Dick and Jason?”  Jason watched Bruce scowl, but James let himself be set down and headed for the door, almost like he already knew what Leslie had to say.

“B really, once Jay knows, we’ll tell everyone.  Just let me tell my husband,” Dick coaxed Bruce into leaving.  The older man sighed, but kept the scowl on as he walked out of the room. Jason shook his head before looking back to Dick and taking his hand.

“What’s wrong?  I have been freaking out since Bruce called and I need someone to throw me a bone here.”  Dick chuckled and Jason looked at him, ignoring Leslie.  If he had to describe the way Dick looked and how he smelled, Jason would say happy.  Maybe a little nervous, but definitely happy.

“You might want to sit, Jay,” Dick waved to the chair next to Jason.  Though he was suspicious, Jason took the advice and sat in the chair without releasing Dick’s hand.  “I’m perfectly healthy, there’s nothing wrong with me.”

“Then why did you collapse on patrol?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Jason’s world came to a halt as he processed the information. Pregnant.  But they had decided after James they weren’t going to have another.  It had been too hard on Dick’s body.  He had been miserable and sick the entire time, bedridden for the majority of the final trimester.  And the labor and delivery had been worse.  They had almost lost both of them and Dick and Jason had both agreed, James was enough.

“But…”  Jason tried to form words, attempting to articulate the mess in his head.  “When? How?”

“My last heat, when James spent the week with Dami and Jon?”  Jason remembered that.  Almost four months ago.  He had assumed Dick would be due for a heat when he got back from his mission.  “I had that infection before that, and the antibiotics had nullified the suppressants.”  Jason looked over to Leslie for confirmation and she just gave him a wide smile, nodding her head.

“But we didn’t know? With James you were sick at a month. You’re how many weeks now?”

“He’s almost eleven weeks,” Leslie finally spoke up and handed over a familiar image.  An ultrasound image of the baby in Dick’s womb. Jason carefully took it and stared down at it.  “She’s a little on the small side, but all the tests say she’s perfectly healthy.”

Jason’s head shot up to look at her.  “She?” He choked out.

“She, Jay. We’re having a daughter and she’s being a hell of a lot nicer than her brother was,” Dick pulled his attention, smiling brightly at Jason.  Jason’s turquoise eyes bore into Dick’s sapphire ones for a moment before he surged forward and kissed the other man breathless.  He could hear Leslie chuckle before excusing herself from the room.

“I was so fucking scared when I never heard anything about your condition on the plane,” Jason admitted when he pulled back just enough to speak and look into Dick’s eyes again. “But this…god, Dickie.  I didn’t even realize I wanted this.”

“Me neither, Little Wing,” Dick admitted as he placed a hand on Jason’s cheek.  They had both been okay with just having James.  It had been thirteen years since their son was born and neither of them had even mentioned another kid.  “We’re never going to hear the end of it, though.”  Jason frowned.  “I’m almost in my second trimester and neither of us noticed.  And now that I know, it’s so obvious that I have no idea how we didn’t realize.”

Jason pulled back as Dick pulled down the blanket that was covering him and tugged up the black t-shirt. And yeah, there was the bump.  How they had managed to not notice that was beyond him.  Placing a hand on the slight swell, Jason sighed.  Now the familiar twist to Dick’s scent made sense.

“We should tell James before everyone else.”  And Jason completely agreed.  “Go get him?”

“Yeah,” Jason agreed, pressing a kiss to Dick’s stomach and to his lips.  “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Grinning, Jason pulled back completely and headed to the door to get their son so they could tell him the good news.

[sparkleofpizza]

Girl crush - Wally West x Reader

Requested: no

Warnings: low self-esteem, heartache, song inspired 

Summary: Reader is in love with Wally, but he seems to be in love with someone else. 

Word count: 1.350

The heart rush was horrible. You hated yourself for feeling the way you did, but you couldn’t help but adore every single part of that flirtations ginger head. From the way he was always joking around, making you smile, to the way you sometimes wanted to punch him in the face and then kiss away his bruises. Wally West was going to be the death of you.

You were walking down the hall of the Mountain of Justice in the middle of the night. You were up helping your friend Dick with a case when you passed by Wally’s bedroom and heard her voice, heard her laugh. You bit on your lower lip to prevent a sad sight from escaping your lips. It hurt, but you had to get over it as fast as you could.

You kept on walking, pushing open the door to your room, watching Dick type away on his laptop. You placed two mugs of coffee on the table and took a sit beside him.

“Thank you.” He said, eyeing you sideways “Why are you frowning?”

“It’s nothing. I’m just a bit frustrated we haven’t been able of find out their location yet.” You lied

He gave you a skeptical look. He had a pretty good idea why you looked a bit upset, but he didn’t want to push you into talking about something you didn’t want you. 

“If you ever want to talk about that just know that I will always be heart to listen. And kick ass. Listen and kick ass.”

You chuckled lightly, glad to have a friend like him “I know, thank you, Dickie.”

You just wished you could experience what se was experiencing right now as you drowned yourself in sadness.

I got it real bad Want everything she has That smile and that midnight laugh She’s giving you now

It was brief and very short, if you weren’t paying very close attention you would’ve missed the way their lips touched before a mission. How Artemis stood a bit too close than normal to Wally, how her lips moved slowly, in a whisper of words only meant for him. You adverted your eyes, you didn’t want to be caught staring and didn’t want to break your heart even further.

You stared yourself in the mirror, adjusting your mask and your hair braid. You really took your time to look yourself in the mirror. Maybe if you had blonde hair or was as magnetic as her you would stand a chance. Sighting in defeat you turned away, ready for the mission. 

I want to taste her lips Yeah, ‘cause they taste like you I wanna drown myself  In a bottle of her perfume I want her long blonde hair I want her magic touch Yeah, ‘cause maybe then You’d want me just as much

You cried yourself to sleep that night, or the amount of sleep you could get anyway. Hearing noises coming from the room beside you wasn’t something you were looking forward to. Specially their noises. It put images in your head, how she was pulling him in, how he was showering her with his love. If you could only have a little bit of that.

Figuring enough is enough, you grabbed your pillows and left your room, going to someone you knew would be up at this time of the night. 

You lightly knocked on Dick’s bedroom door before allowing yourself in. He looked up from his book, frowning when he saw tears clouding your eyes. He stood up, sitting in bed and patting a spot beside him. You climbed in, hugging your pillow close to your chest.

“I could really use that talk you offered me the other day.” You whispered, voice breaking at the end

He nodded his head, watching you sadly as you spend almost the rest of the night telling him how you felt about Wally and how it hurt you to see him with Artemis. You told him how you had this feelings for such a long time and his flirtatious ways towards everyone wasn’t doing you any good because it only got your hopes high when you knew that in the end he would always go back to her arms. 

Dick allowed you to sleep in his bed that night, holding his arm. He figured he had to do something, you couldn’t keep on living like that. It was too painful. So when you woke up the next morning, he suggested you to take some time off. 

“You should go home for a while. Stay with your family and recover. Being here and having to watch them everyday is no good to you. You need time to move on and living with him is not going to allow you to do that.”

You decided to accept his idea. You left to your room, packing a few of your stuff and leaving without saying goodbye to anyone beside Dick and Batman who was allowing you time off. You stated you needed to take care of your mental health and be with your family for a while, as you felt you weren’t giving a 100% of yourself out there. The older man didn’t ask many questions, having talked to his older son earlier and already being aware of the situation.

So you left, only to come back months later feeling like a completely renewed person. 

The first person you hugged was Dick, staying in the embrace a bit longer than you normally would, but you had him to thank for everything. You were quick to ask all of the teams members to fill you in with what you had missed.

“Hello, Wally.” You smiled as you saw the redhead approach you shyly, he sat beside you 

“Hi, Y/N. You look different.” He pointed out, looking at your dyed hair and shoulder length, your tan skin instead of the usual pale one 

“I never really knew how much I needed a time out of this before I got some.” You chuckled “How’s Artemis?”

“Uh... Ah, we broke up.” 

You nodded your head, asking if he was alright. The smile never faltered your voice and it actually made him feel better, he had missed you a lot. His relationship with Artemis didn’t last two months after you left, when he realized you had left because he had broken your heart. But he was willing to make this right this time. Him and Artemis didn’t work out, it wasn’t meant to be, but the two of you? That’s a completely different story.

“Look, Y/N. I’m really sorry for what I did to you.” He started, scratching the back of his neck “I should’ve never rubbed my relationship with Artemis in your face the way that I did, I was aware that you had feelings for me and I was a jerk. But I’m willing to make it up to you, if you want me to.”

You chuckled, hitting him lightly on the shoulder “Oh, don’t worry. I don’t blame you or anything like that, I’d actually like to thank you. If it wasn’t for you, Dick would’ve never told me to take some time off, and that was the best thing I could’ve done. I’m happier than ever and got a fresh start when I met my boyfriend.”

“B-Boyfriend?” It was even hard for him to utter those words 

“Yeah, I met him when I was patrolling alone one day. I believe you know him? Roy?”

Oh dear, it must be a really sick joke.

“You’re dating Roy Harper?!” His voice went up a few octaves 

“Yes.” You chuckled “Isn’t it funny? He’s Jason’s best friend and haven’t met him before a few months ago.”

“Yeah, really funny.” He dryly chuckled 

“Well, it was really nice talking to you, but I have to go. I promised Dick I’d help him solve a case. See you around, Wally.”

Wally nodded his head, waiting until you were out of sight to growl in frustration. For someone as fast as him, he was indeed slow enough to loose you so fast.

[dcnatural]

End Game

Word Count: 1454

Pairing: Reader x Dick Grayson

Rating: General Audiences

Synopsis: You are Dick's SO, but your insecurity gets the best of you when you think you found evidence he was cheating.

Dick Grayson had a reputation as a womanizer. As the first son of Bruce Wayne, and heir to the Wayne Enterprises, the media loved to detail everything he did, and especially with who he did it. So when he first approached you during a fundraising, you had thought it would be an one-night stand and nothing more. But the morning after, before he left the flat you shared with your best friend, he asked for your number. 

You went over the moon when he called that very same afternoon to invite you to dinner. And, then, after having been going out for almost a month, he asked you to be his SO, to which you gladly said “yes”. Despite all that, you still feared the day he would leave you and move on to the next, after all, he had a reputation, you knew the relationship wouldn’t last. But it did, a year passed and you two were still a couple.

You knew it was foolish, but you couldn’t help but think he was cheating on you. He often worked late night (and he was super vague about what his work was, you knew he worked at Wayne Enterprises, but that was all) and when he was sleeping with you, he would sometime disappear when he thought you were asleep and come back hours later. The only explanation was that he was cheating, you were sure of it! But you were too much of coward to confront him, Dick had been the best boyfriend you ever had and you preferred to share him than not have him at all. You hated what he was doing, why couldn’t you be enough for him?

* * *

It’s a Saturday morning, Dick had called saying he had a surprise and that he would pick you up on your apartment. You loved when he surprised you! He often took you to the most amazing places, like that one time when he took one of Bruce’s helicopters to fly you to New York so you could see your favorite musician. You wonder what he had planned for today. Sitting by the window, you see his blue Corvette ‘61 park in front of your building. You rise from your seat as he exit the car and go have a last look on the mirror, to make sure you look great.

The doorbell rings and you run to answer. 

“Hi”, you greet your boyfriend, running a nervous hand on your hair. How come that even after one year the mere sight of him is still enough to send your heart racing?

“Hey”, he answers, kissing you softly on the lips. “You ready?” You nod and closes the door, checking to see if it was locked, you can’t take any chances on Gotham. 

Dick looks amazing in his football jacket, reminiscent from his high school days, his back hair is combed back and he wears sunglasses, despite the dark clouds floating on the horizon. You walk with him to the car and he opens the passenger door for you. Always a gentleman. As you accommodate yourself on the seat, a sharp object pokes your ass cheeks. 

“Auch!”, you exclaim, blindly tapping to try to catch it. An earring… And it’s not yours, that’s for sure. Nor Dick’s. Tangled on it, a single strand of red hair… “What’s this?”, you ask, handing him the small piece of metal. Jealousy burns on your chest. He was seeing a redhead. His ex’s is redheaded. Barbara, the Commissioner daughter. You knew it! Even though he said she was just a friend now, you always had a hunch that he was still into her. 

“Ah… An earring?”, he answers, unsure of why you are asking. 

“Whose earring?”

“I don’t know”, he says in a humorous tone. You could see that he was trying not to laugh.

“You think this is funny?”, you are more disappointed than mad. You always hoped that when you confronted him about his cheating he would at least admit to it. “I’m not stupid! I know there are others, but I preferred when you hid it, instead of letting them leave things around.”

He pulls the car to a stop, having driven only a block. The engine off, he turns to look at you. “What are you talking about?”

His gaze is too much to bear, and you decide to stare at the steering wheel. “You always work at night, stays days without calling or text, and sometimes you disappear in the middle of the night when we are together. I notice things, the mysterious phone calls that you answer in private and the weak excuses you give afterwards to leave. I know, Dick. Just don’t need to rub it on my face, okay?”

“Hey”, he says, reaching out to cup your face, “look at me”, his voice is not humorous anymore. You comply and turn to see his blue eyes. “I’m not seeing anyone else. I love you,  Camila. I love you with all my heart.” You lean in and his lips meets yours in deep, passionate kiss. He says it so honestly that you almost believe it. But if there isn’t another, then what’s the reason of his shady behavior?

“I love you too, Dickie”, you say, breaking the kiss. “But, w-why”, your voice trembles, “what are you hiding?”

He takes a long pause and then restarts the car. “I was going to show you that. Well, there was a picnic first, but I guess we can skip that.”

You turn the radio to avoid the uncomfortable silence that follows you through the drive to Wayne Manor. He parks in the garage and you both get out. You still hold the earring on your hand, clenching and uncleching your fist.

You hear Tim and Damian arguing inside the house and smell the familiar aroma of Alfred’s cookies. Dick takes your hand and you walk together to an old clock that is in one of the corridors. You had passed by that clock many times before, and there was nothing out of the ordinary about it. Just a huge, old clock. 

“That’s it?”

“Wait a minute”, he replies, and begins to tap in the wood. Suddenly the clock moves backwards, opening a narrow passage to a stairway leading down.

You can’t hide the shocked expression on your face. He chuckles seeing your wide eyes and agape mouth. “What’s…”

“Go on, there’s nothing to be afraid”, and thankfully he flicks a switch, illuminating the staircase. At least with the lights on it doesn’t look as creepy. You glance back to the corridor and see Tim spying on you and Dick, when he notices you caught him, he quickly hides behind the hallway curve. You roll your eyes. Teenagers … You begin to walk down the stairs, checking every few steps to see Dick’s reassuring smile. Finally, the stairs comes to an end, and you find yourself facing a large cave.

In front of you, a variety of objects are displayed across the hall. You spot the Batmobile, the giant coin Two-Face used once, a dinosaur skeleton, and at least 10 different Batsuits on display. 

You turn to Dick in disbelief. “You are Batman?”, you exclaim.

He laughs. “No. Not yet, at least.” He points to the blue costume on a glass display. You recognize it as the first suit Nightwing ever wore.

“You’re Nightwing!”, you exclaim again. He nods. “And this means that Bruce is Batman...” He nods again. “And who is Robin?”

“Well, first it was me, then Jason, then Tim and currently it’s Damian.”

“And is Bruce okay with you showing me this?”

“Yes, they know how much you mean to me. I wanted to tell you the truth, so you wouldn’t make a decision in the dark.”

“A decision about what?”, you inquire, puzzled. 

He kneels and pulls a small box from his pocket. “I love you, Camila. I want you to be part of live forever”, he opens the box, revealing a gold ring encrusted with stones on your favorite color. “Will you marry me?”

“YES!”, you shout without a second thought, your voice echoing in the cave. 

He puts the ring on your finger, and it fits perfectly. You hug him and you two kiss for a long time. Your body feels like it’s on fire. But there’s still one single question on your brain.

“Hey”, you say in a low tone, “but whose earring is it?”

“Oh, I gave a ride to Aunt Kathy yesterday.”

You laugh at your own stupidity. All those worries for nothing, in the end, you were the only one in his heart. You kiss him again, wedding plans already forming in your head.

[eugenesmorphine]

Drunk Dances // Richard Winters Imagine

Taglist: @alienoresimagines​ @hihosilvers​ @floydtab​

Words: 1,644

  Richard wandered around the bar, in search for his girlfriend who seemed to have wiggled away while he was at a grouping with the rest of the Officers. He approached Nixon, who of course was at the front part of the bar with a large glass of whiskey while Welsh was doing the same thing. Pushing through Paratrooper upon Paratrooper, Richard finally made it to the bar. He placed a hand on his best friend's shoulder. 

   "Hey Nix, have you seen Y/N anywhere?" he asked. Lewis turned around and took a sip of his alcohol, chuckling slightly. He leaned against the bar and smirked slightly.  

  "How did you lose her?" his words slightly slurred. Richard could smell the strong stench of cheap whiskey and cigarettes off of his breath. It was clear enough it wasn't his first drink. The Major sighed as he shook his head. 

   "No, Nixon. But have you seen her?" as if on cue, a loud eruption of cheers and laughter erupted from a table deeper in the bar. Richard and Nixon both looked in the direction of the loud noises coming from. And there she was, Staff Sergeant L/N chugging a pint of beer, one after another. With Liebgott, Babe, Perconte, Luz, Randleman, and many other men of the company cheered her on. 

   "I think I found your little princess," Nixon chuckled as Richard sighed. He looked at him before looking back at the group of men that the lone female sat at. He dropped his head low before picking it up, marching over there to grab his woman.  

 "Hey Y/N, your man came to scoop you up!" teased Luz. Y/N turned and saw the redhead, her eyes lit up. Richard scoffed slightly, already noticing her drunken state. She stood, stumbling right into him. Richard helped her stand, supporting her slightly as she giggled. 

  "Hey Dickie," she slurred, giggling up a storm. The guys at the table kept making comments and making jokes. Whilst Y/N hung around the officer's neck with a goofy smile on her lips. Richard just sighed he held her waist. 

  "Maybe you've had enough to drink for a night. Maybe we should get you to bed," Richard tried to speak over the loudness from all the men that flooded the bar. Y/N laughed, throwing her head back. She stood on her tip toes and pressed her pointer against his lips.  

  "Take me to dinner first, sir," she slurred. Causing an uproar of laughter from the boys in the back. Richard turned as red as his hair from the statement and chuckled slightly. Y/N just turned away from her boyfriend quickly and went back to grab another pint of beer. Beginning to down it, Richard grabbed her hand and pulled her over. Gently removing the glass from her grasp and placing it on a table besides them. She let out a whine and looked at her lover. He smiled down at her and shook his head slightly. 

 "You've had more than enough to drink. You and I have plans tomorrow that we cannot skip. So we need get your drunk butt home,"  he spoke gently. As if talking to a child. Y/N shook her head and tried to turn around. But instead she slipped and fell, landing right onto her back side. Richard sighed and helped her up. Sometimes he wished she didn't drink so much at times. But, he loved her so he put up with it. 

  "You can't make me! I'm an adult! I am a twenty three year old woman!" she spoke loudly as Richard sighed once more and just wrapped an arm around the female's waist. She whined loudly. "Give me a kiss and maybe I'll think about it," her voice in one of those flirtatious but drunk kind of way. So in other words. Not to flirtatious. Richard got flustered in the moment. The man wasn't much of PDA person. Especially when his little girlfriend is drunk and all of them company is around. 

  "Go on Major, kiss your girl!" Lieb called, holding up his drink to him. Y/N was too busy laughing at her boyfriend's shy look on his face. His cheeks and ears heated up as he looked down at his love. 

  "I'll give you a kiss when we get out of her, how about that?" he offered. Y/N stood up and tapped her index finger off her chin, humming slightly. She looked at him and nodded. 

  "Deal. But, you have to dance with me for one song!" She held up her finger, indicating the number one. Dick dropped his head, really just wanting to go back and sleep. It was late at night. But he knew that with Y/N being drunk, she is stubborn. Which of course was another trait that he had learned to love with the woman. He picked his head up and nodded. 

 "Fine, sweetheart. Lets go dance. But then we go home, alright?" he interlocked his fingers with hers. She nodded and smiled wide. Practically dragging him out to the dance floor that was filled with Paratrooper with random women in their arms.  As the two reached the dance floor, a slow song came on. That being their song. Dearly Beloved by Jerome Kern was played by the band. Even in Y/N's drunken state, she was over the moon when she heard the song being played. She wrapped her arms around her redheaded lover and his hands went to hold her waist. Richard smiled, remembering the first time the two danced to this song. 

   It was just the two, it was late at night. He was in his office typing some paperwork, stressed out of his mind. Y/N had walked in, and just turned on the radio. And this song played, and when they danced. Just the two of them swaying to the music. Not worrying about the stress of the war, not the casualties of that day, who might die throughout the course of the following days. It was just the two of them. No one else. It was an intimate moment that Richard held close to him. It was the night where he truly realized that he had fallen in love with the NCO. 

  It was hard to believe that it had been almost a complete year sense then. Now dancing to the same song, he was a rank higher along as she was too. Her hair a little longer, their uniforms dirtier. But, the same song, the same strong love, and the same happiness. He swayed her gently to the music. It didn't matter if she was as drunk as a skunk in the moment, it was the intimacy that moment carried. 

  The song came to an end. Y/N let out a large yawn as she was practically almost completely unconscious leaning against him. He laughed slightly as he picked her up bridal style. Y/N let out a small whine. But Dick just leaned down and kissed her warmly in front of the guys. Just like she wanted. Causing the boys to loudly cheer once more. 

  "Take care of her, sir!" Called Luz from the table. Who Richard just ignored and gave a nod towards Nixon and Welsh as he exited the bar. Y/N cuddled into her chest while Richard smiled softly and walked to wear the two were staying. Pushing the door open with his foot and walked over to their bed.

    "Want me to get you into you sleep clothes?" he asked softly as he sat her on the bed, walking over to the dresser to grab her PT shirt and shorts, walking back over to her. She sat on the bed, rubbing her eyes like a toddler as she stared up at her boyfriend. She put her arms up so Richard could pull her service shirt up and off of her torso. Pulling the other one over her. Standing Y/N up carefully so she wouldn't fall over and helping her out service pants and into her shorts. Being modest and respectful as the man he is. 

  "Dickie, I don't feel good," Y/N said, her voice low as her hand went to her forehead. Richard knew it was because of the copious amount of alcohol she consumed. He sighed and moved her hand to place a kiss on her forehead. And the feeling of warmth on it worried him slightly.

  "I think you are running a slight fever, Hun. Maybe you should," his sentence was cut off with her pushing away from him and darting towards the bathroom. Dropping to her knees in front of the toilet and everything she drank and ate that night coming back up into the toilet bowl. Richard rushed in and his face softened at the sight. Bending down to hold her hair back and rub her back. "Get it all up, sweetheart. Then we are going to get some sleep. Alright?" he asked softly. Y/N nodded, getting the rest of whatever she had up. Sitting up and looking back at her man. Tears pooled in her eyes. 

  "I'm sorry, Richard," she whimpered. Dick smiled softly and cupped her face, picking up a clothe to wipe her mouth. Picking her up once more. Carrying her out of the bathroom and back to the bedroom. Laying her gently in the bed, turning the room's light off and walking back to the bed. Wiggling himself underneath the covers with his lover. Pulling the covers up onto them. Y.N scooted herself over and wrapped his arms around his stomach, pulling herself closer. Richard kissed her softly and rested his chin on the top of her head. 

  "I love you, Dickie," she cooed softly. Burying her head into his chest. 

  "I love you too, Doll." 

[slf-tnd]

17. First kiss

I have to give thanks to Ace on AO3 who had helped with the idea for this chapter. This is a continuing from Day 5.

[Dick - 15; Wally - 17]

Wally was nervously pacing his room, contemplating if he should go through with it or not. Looking at his phone in his hands, he sighed before texting. Now or never.

---------------------------------

Dick looked up from his homework when his phone vibrated. Picking it up, Dick could already guess who was texting him.

Freshness Jr: wanna come over dude??

Freshness Jr: have a surprise

The acrobat raised an eyebrow, Wally doesn't normally write like this, so...readable (for his standards). Choosing to ignore that for now, he texted a reply.

Me: sure dude

Me: be there in 10

Packing his stuff together, he went down to the Batcave where the Zetabeam was and used it to travel to Blue Valley, leaving a note to tell Bruce and Alfred where he was. (Bruce was at work and Alfred was out getting stuff, Dick doesn't remember what.)   Stepping out of the Teleporter, Dick made the short journey to the redheads home.

-------------------------------------------

Not even a second passed after he knocked when the door was ripped open by the speedster, an excited expression plastered on his face. "Finally, Dude! I was waiting," he pulled the ebony through the door and slammed it shut. "I have to show you something." He pulled Dick up the stairs and into his room, closing the door behind them.

Looking around the room, Dick saw nothing new or exciting that could've caused the other to react like this and turned to the redhead. "What is it that you want to show me?"

Wally became suddenly nervous, looking everywhere but Dick, before slowly making his way to stand before him. "I just...I've wanted to say something for a while and- well, uh...," collecting himself, Wally forced himself to relax and look straight into the acrobat's eyes. "Do you, ähm, remember that one sleepover where you had a nightmare and we- uh, baked something, from your mother's cookbook?" Dick didn't know where exactly Wally was going with this but nodded. He remembered that night, it was a memory he sometimes revisited when Wally and he had an argument because it showed how much Wally cared about him, even back then when they didn't know each other that long.

"Well...you know that the cookbook was in Romani or Romanianorwhatever- the point is," Wally took a big breath. "You said that I wouldn't have the patience to learn it and I said I will and I'm gonna wow you with my skillsandyou'regonnaswoonand-" Dick put a hand on his shoulder. Slightly calming down, Wally ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "This wasn't supposed to be such a mess."

"Just say what you have to say," Dick calmly looked up into his eyes through his sunglasses. Wally pushed the sunglasses up on Dick's head and softly placed his hands on his cheeks, slightly tipping his head up. Wally opened his mouth and gently said.

"Te iubesc, păsărică."

Dick's eyes widened, a blush spreading over his face, mirroring Wally's red face.

"Te iubesc atat de mult."

"Your accent is terrible," Dick didn't know what to say. The warm feeling in his heart growing throughout his body. Wally raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?" Dick chuckled and gripped his collar. "Saruta-ma, idiotule."

Wally smiled. "Bucuros."

Wally leaned down, while Dick leaning up and met halfway into a kiss.

Pulling back, the redhead broke into a grin. "Told you I would learn it," Dick smirked and gently pushed his shoulder. "That's great, but maybe try my native language next time." The grin fell from the speedster's face. "But it is, isn't it?!" Dick crackled. "That's Romanian, not Romani. There's a difference." Wally groaned and threw his hands up.

"Three years learning a language and it's all for nothing!" The acrobat stood aside, watching amused as Wally whined. "Hey, it's not all for nothing," Dick took Wally's hand and pulled him closer. "You learning Romanian for me was really touching and a good start for Romani. And besides," he leaned and whispered into the redhead's ear. "I can teach you if you want."

Feeling Dick's warm breath brush over his ear, Wally grew hot at the sensation and closeness.

He was fucked.

Te iubesc, păsărică - I love you, dicky bird

Te iubesc atat de mult - I love you so much

Saruta-ma, idiotule - Kiss me, you idiot

Bucuros - Gladly/Happy

[backtothefanfiction]

COMING SOON!!!

A Peter Parker 1920s AU

All anyone can talk about at every party across the city is the man in the red and blue pyjamas that stopped a bank robbery downtown. Little do they know, at one particular party he is there listening in, hoping to make an acquaintance with a particular young socialite who's brother is one of the most notorious gangsters in the city.

** Teaser Below The Cut **

“Did you hear about that fellow in red and blue pyjamas who beat up those thugs on Bond Street the other night?” A red head cried out to the small group she was currently entertaining.

“Oh yes, I read all about it in the papers.” A blonde responded as she puffed away on a cigarette.

“I heard it was one of those fellas from one of Mabel’s costume parties. The guy was a bit squiffy if you ask me.” A gentleman bellowed, champagne sloshing out of his glass and splashing on the lapels of his suit.

“Really, Dickie?” The gentleman next to the first who had spoken said. “I thought it was one of those acrobats from the circus that’s just dossed up in the park.”

“Whoever he was,” said a third, “he prevented a bank robbery and knocked out three guys to boot, all on his lonesome.”

“What are you hens gossiping about?” A blonde girl cried as she pushed her way through the crowd into the group.

“Ahh Birdie will know.” Said the man named Dickie.

“Birdie will know what?” She cooed drunkenly to him, referring to herself in the third person, as she swayed back and forth before wrapping an arm around the redhead beside her and curling into her side for support.

“About that fellow in red and blue pyjamas on Bond Street who stopped that robbery the other night.”

“And why would I know anything about that?” She protested.

“Because I heard it was some of your brother's chums who were trying to rob the bank.”

“Now, Dickie, where did you ever hear a tale like that?” She drunkenly brushed him off. Besides, even if that had been the case, her brother never let her anywhere near his business for her to know.

The small crowd continued to debate the facts of the story about the man in red and blue pyjamas, for the next quarter of an hour, unaware the gentleman in question was currently stood, his back to a wall of books, eavesdropping on the whole conversation. He went mostly unnoticed, apart from catching the attention of a certain blonde in the group that he kept making eyes at.

“Oh I love this song.” The redhead exclaimed to the group as a new tune began. “Oh Dickie, let’s go dance!” She placed her mostly empty glass on a rich wooden side table before grabbing one of Dickie’s hands in both of hers and pulled him towards the band and the makeshift dancefloor before them.

“Come on Birdie!” Another girl exclaimed as she grabbed the hand of the other gentleman in their group and began to lead him away. But Birdie had her eye on something else. Or rather, someone else.

“It’s a swell party.” The gentleman said, tipping a barely touched glass in her direction as she sidled up beside him, slumping against the wall of books as she looked up at him.

“Who are you? Why have I never seen you before? Are you a friend of a friend or something?” Birdie asked him over the music.

“Or something.” He chuckled and mused as he turned his body towards her.

“So have you got a name ‘or something’?” Birdie tipsily asked him with as much audacity as she could muster.

“Peter.. -Parker.” He hastily added, shifting his drink from one hand to the other so he could reach out and offer it to her.

“Well Peter Parker, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” She said cheerfully, taking his hand and shaking it vigorously. It made his face burst into an ear splitting smile. “I would introduce myself,” she said as she dropped his hand and took a sip of her drink, “but I’m sure you already know who I am, or else you wouldn’t be in my house.”

“No, no, you’re quite right.” He said with a small breathy chuckle.

“So what do you make of all this guy in red and blue pyjamas business. I saw you listening and smirking to yourself. You think it’s a load of old rubbish really, don’t you?” She said her last sentence in a hushed conspiratorial manner. 

“No, no, not at all.” Peter was quick to say. “I uh- I was there actually- when it happened that is.”

He watched as her face lit up. “Oh really!” She said eyes wide as she shimmied even closer to him, her back coming into contact with the bookcase as they huddled secretly against it. “Do tell.”

“I don’t know what you expect me to say. It’s just as the people say, he swooped in and stopped those guys who were trying to steal from the bank.”

“Some people would say that makes him a bit of a hero, don’t ya think.”

“Well, what do you think?”

“Well I don’t think it matters what I think.”

“So you don’t think he’s a hero?” Peter continued to fish.

“Well I think it takes more than just stopping one bank robbery to become a hero.” She said confidently as she stood herself up taller, aiming to impress. “Besides, only fools trust all their money with the bank.”

“Is that so? So where do you keep yours then?”

“Oh I don’t deal with all that- do you have a smoke?” She quickly added but he shook his head, “ah oh well- anyway my brother deals with all the money and things. Georgie darling, have you got a smoke?” She quickly asked a nearby friend who reached into his pocket despite being mid conversation with another person, took out his cigarette case and held it out to her. “You don’t mind do you?” She asked Peter as she put a cigarette to her lips and Georgie turned and lit it for her, before returning to his conversation.

Not given much of a choice, Peter politely responded, “Uh no, sure.” But she was already puffing away. “So you’re brother doesn’t trust banks?” Peter pressed.

“What Freddie? Oh no- he’s in the security business you see. Says they’re awful things actually. They claim to be all safe but anyone could walk off the street and take what they wanted- just look at those men. No, no. You won’t find our money in the bank.”

She was giving him everything he wanted. It was almost too easy. “Where is your brother? Sounds like a smart fellow, I sure would like to meet him.” Peter said looking about the crowd.

“Oh you won’t find him at a ghastly party like this I’m afraid?”

“But I thought this was your party?”

“Yes, it’s a bore isn’t it? Not at all like that party we had at Margot’s last month. You know we really should get a swimming pool. Now that really would be swell. I’ll have to talk to Freddie about it- Do you wanna get outta here?”

“But what about your guests?”

“What about them? They’re fine. They know where the door is when they’re ready to leave.” She continued to gabber on cheerily. “I’m sure most of them don’t even know who I am, let alone if I’m here.”

-------------------

Currently writing up a storm to get this finished. Hoping to be just one long story but might split into two depending on how long it really gets. Anyway let me know if you wish to be tagged when it goes live hopefully some time before this weekend!

(@sincericida @tarzinnia)

[thebluenebula]

The 2nd part to my New Bat story which I am totally most likely going to keep writing for the forseeable future.

Masterlist

Day 1

Day 3

A New Bat: Day 2

When I woke up, the sun was shining through the window. I sat up on the edge of my bed and checked my phone. The screen displayed the time, 11:23, and a text from an unkown number.

"Hey Ash, it's Dick. I got your number off B. Whenever you wake up you can head down to the kitchen and Alfred will make whatever you want, it should be quiet as Alfred generally keeps us out of the kitchen."

I saved the number, got dressed, then headed out into the hall. I couldn't see anyone but I could hear a voice in a nearby room. I quickly navigated to the stairs and headed down.

Once I got to the first floor I managed to find my way to the kitchen without running into anybody. I knocked as I opened the door.

"Hello, Miss Ashleigh. May I interest you in some scrambled eggs?"

"Hi Alfred, yeah if you wouldn't mind." I glances around the kitchen to see if anyone else was in here but it was just me and Alfred.

"Of course not, Miss Ashleigh, it's why I'm paid to be here."

I giggled. I could hear the faint whispers of an argument happening somewhere else in the manor. "I would have imagined a family that fights crime dressed as bats at night would sleep during the day."

Alfred grabbed a nearby pan. "If I only I were that lucky."

"Were you a chef before working here? The dinner yesterday was amazing."

"No, but when you been working as a butler as long as I have you are bound to acquire a few skills."

I nodded. "Makes sense."

Alfred handed a plate of eggs to me. "Indeed, Miss Ashleigh. Master Bruce has asked me to inform you that he will be attending a Wayne Enterprise meeting for a large portion of today. It was unavoidable I'm afraid."

I swallowed the piece of egg I was chewing. "Oh, do you know when he will be back?"

"He should be back sometime this evening."

Alfred went over to the sink and began washing the dishes. "Have you met any of the other children?"

"I met Jason last night." I waved my fork around. "He seems... brash. Is brash the right word? What does brash even mean?"

"While Master Jason may seem brash, as you put it, at first when you get to know him... well he will still seem brash but he does have a kind side."

I finished my eggs and brought the plate over to the sink. "It was dark last night when I met him but does he have some kind of streak in his hair?"

"Yes a white streak right the front." Alfred took my plate and put it in the sink alongside the rest. "Its quite a notable feature of his."

I took a seat back at the table. "I always thought it'd be nice to dye my hair."

"Typically when the children want to dye their hair they go to Harper."

"Do a lot of the kids dye their hair?"

Alfred chuckled. "They rarely dye their own hair but often time one of the boys will wake with some kind of brightly coloured hair, unknown to them of course."

I giggled and stood up. "I'm going to head back up to my room."

"Oh I almost forgot. A package came in for you. I believe Master Bruce put it in his office for safety. I can retrive it and bring it up to your room if you would like."

"If you wouldn't mind Alfred. There's no rush on it."

Alfred nodded. "Of course."

"Thank you." I left the kitchen and headed back up the stairs.

I had just reached the second floor when I heard a voice. "Hello."

I looked over and saw a blonde girl standing by the map on the wall. "Hello Stephanie, isn't it?"

She gave me a curious look. "Just Steph will do. How'd you know?"

I pointed to the map. "Dick told me your the one who makes the maps."

"Ah yes. One of my greatest ideas." She laughed. "Your Ashleigh right?"

"Bang on."

"Nice to meet you. I'm heading to join Cass in the library. Maybe you wanna come join us?"

"Uhh" I thought for a moment. "No thanks. Maybe another time though."

"Okay that's fine but you know where to find us if you change your mind." She giggled. "Just check the map."

I nodded and began climbing the stairs to the third floor.

"Ashleigh."

I stopped and turned. Steph was standing at the bottom of the stairs. "Welcome to the family."

I stared at her for a second then I smiled. "Thank you."

She ran off down the hall and I headed up to my room. I managed to not run into anyone else before reaching my room.

I lay into bed and put on my headphones and just got lost in the music for what felt like hours until voices in the hall caught my attention. I stood up and  placed my ear against the door.

"What's in the box, Dick?" I heard a voice ask.

"None of our business." Dick replied.

"It sounds like it's broken." Another voice said. It sounded like Jason.

"It sounds like Lego." The mystery voice said. He sounded confused.

They have my box. Alfred must have asked Dick to bring it up.

"Into to toys now, Dickie boy." Jason remarked.

"Lots of adults collect Lego, Jay." The mystery voice sounded offended.

"Would you two shut it." Dick groaned. "The box is Ashleigh's."

"Aww, Dickie. The new girls already got you wrapped round her finger." Jason teased. "I thought it was only redheads-"

I could hear the wack of a hand hitting the back of a head then the clatter of a box of small plastic bricks hitting the ground. I flinched knowing that I would have to reconstruct whichever of my poor sets were in that box.

I heard a groan from Dick and lots of laughter. I figured I should go out and get my box before anymore damage is done. I stepped out in to the hall to see Dick picking up the box, Jason was on the ground pissing himself laughing, and the third guy just looked like he was wishing he hadn't been adopted.

"You okay?" I asked them.

All of them stopped and looked at me. Dick stepped forward and handed me the slightly dented box. "Im so sorry. Jay dropped your box."

Jason, who was now on his feet, feigned offense. "ME! You dropped it."

"But it was your fault." Dick shook his head. "We can play the blame game later." He turned to me. "I'm sorry if anything is broken."

I smiled at him. "Nothing I can't rebuild."

"So it is Lego." The third guy jumped in.

I looked at him curiously. " Yes."

Dick pointed to the man. "Ashleigh, this is Tim. Tim, this is Ashleigh."

Tim outstretched his hand. "Nice to meet you."

I nodded to him. "Likewise."

"Well now that everyone is introduced," Jason interrupted. "I have to go. I promised Alfred I'd help with dinner."

Jason walked off. Dick looked at me and handed me the box. "Bruce should be home soon. Alfred said dinner should be ready about ten. You can come down or if you don't feel like it, text me and Alfred will bring it up."

I nodded. "Okay, thanks."

Dick nodded. "I'll talk to you later, I think Babs is coming around for dinner today so I should probably tell Alfred."

Dick walked off leaving me and Tim standing there. "Well I should go put this box down my arms are getting tired."

"Mind if I come in for minute?"

"No, you can come in." We both went back to my room and set the box down in the corner.

"So you're into Lego."

"Yuuup." I opened the box to inspect the damage. The set was completely smashed. I'd have to rebuild it from scratch.

Tim was looking over my shoulder. "I could help you with that if you want."

I stood up and faced him. "That's okay. I find the building quite enjoyable."

He nodded. "Okay cool. It's nice to have a new face around the manor."

"Thanks." I smiled at him.

Tim looked at me for a moment. He looked as if he wanted to say something but didn't. "No problem. I'll talk to you later."

"Okay see yah."

I watched curiosly as Tim left the room then I sat down on the bed.

A moment later I heard a voice outside my room. "Hey Tim." It sounded like Bruce.

"Bruce, what's up?"

"I'm looking for Ashleigh, is she in her room?" I heard Bruce ask.

"Yeah I was just talking to her." Tim replied.

"You should head down. Alfred said dinner should be ready soon."

"Gotcha."

I heard Tim walk off down the hallway as Bruce approached my room. "Hello."

I looked up from my phone to see Bruce standing in the doorway. "Hi."

"Can I come in?"

I nodded.

He came in and sat on the bed beside me. He looked around the room. The room was empty bar my single bed, an old dresser, my suitcases, and the box. "I didn't think there was a room this small in the mansion." He laughed. "I can get Alfred or Dick to bring you furniture shopping one of the days. If you'd like."

"Yeah that'd be okay." While both Dick and Alfred were practically stranger's to me, I felt close to them. I felt close to some people very easily. All it really takes is one good moment between us and I'd basically trust them with my life. One of my many bad traits.

"Or," Bruce continued. "You could wait till the weekend and I could bring you."

I looked up to his face. "Really?"

He smiled. "Of course. I have to work most weekdays but im free on the weekends." The smile disappeared off his face. "Look I know it's gonna be difficult for you to adjust to this family but-"

I wrapped my arms around him. As silly as it may be, I mean I've only known Bruce a couple months, but he already feels like family to me. Bruce embraced me.

We sat like that for a while until he let me go. "Dinner must be almost ready." He stood up. "I can have Alfred bring yours up, or you can come down." He offered me a hand up.

I took his hand and stood up. "I'll come down. I gotta get used to everyone eventually."

"Are you sure?"

I nodded

We headed down to the dining room amd stood outside the two doors. "Everyone will be in here are you sure you're ready?" Bruce asked me.

I nodded and gulped nervously.

"I asked Dick to keep a seat between me and him for you, or you can sit in another free seat if you feel like it."

Bruce stepped forward and opened the door. We walked inside. I had been told how many people would be here but seeing them, it seemed like so many more. My heart began to race and I froze. It felt like an eternity, though it was only a second, as I took I'm the vast array of people at the table. Most looked up from their meals to see who had just entered the room, some were too occupied eating whatever food Alfred had prepared. I felt Bruce's hand on my shoulder and I snapped out of it. He guided me towards the head of the table. I could feel the eyes on me. We stopped and I sat at the chair in front of me as Bruce took a seat at the head of the table just beside me. I looked to my right and Dick was sitting there just as Bruce had said. Across the table from me was a small child and beside him was Tim. I looked down at my plate as to avoid the gaze of the people I could feel looking at me.

"I hope this meal is of sastifaction Miss Ashleigh." Alfred asked.

I looked up to see Alfred standing beside my seat. "Of course, Alfred."

He nodded and turned to Bruce. "I asked them to wait for you before beginning."

Bruce smirked. "I see, then it should be no surprise they started without me then."

Everyone seemed to have gone back to their own conversations amongst themselves.

"Ashleigh." I heard Dick say beside me. I turned to him. "I'd like you to meet someone." He slid his chair back so I could see the girl sitting beside him.

The girl smiled at me. "I'm Babara, but you can just call me Babs."

"I'm Ashleigh."

"That's a lovely name." Babs looked to the people behind her who were deep in conversation then she looked back to me. "You can come to me if any of these smucks are getting on your nerve. I've got blackmail on all of them."

"Wow." Dick quickly butted in. "What blackmail?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, Discowing." Babs teased.

I looked at Babs. "Discowing?"

Dick quickly slid his chair inbetween me and Babs. "Its nothing."

I saw Babs laughing the other side of Dick as his face went red. I looked down at my food then up again. The small boy across from me was just staring at me. Tim elbowed him and they immediately started into some kind of whisper argument.

"That's Damien." Dick said. "He can be a bit... intense sometimes. Don't worry he'll warm up to you quickly."

The rest of the dinner went by without much interesting happening. Though I could have sworn Damien was attempting to stab Tim under the table at one point. Dick and Babs were completely enthralled in a conversation that they both seemed to have forgotten I was there. Bruce would occasionally glance up from his meal to me and smile but he didn't appear to be able to think of anything to say. I just tried to focus on my food for the most part and not all the other people at the table.

I had almost finished my plate when Bruce finally spoke. "It's probably best I introduce them all to you."

"Yeah."

"You sure?"

I nodded then he stood up. He gestured for me to stand up and I did. He tapped a spoon on the side of his glass. Everyone stopped talking and looked up to us.

"It's not too often we're all here together." Bruce began. "Certainly not as often as I'd like-"

Bruce voice faded away, all I could focus on was all the people in front of me. I could feel the panic setting in.

After what felt like an eternity, I heard Bruce's voice. "Ashleigh?"

I looked up at Bruce. He nodded his head towards the table. I looked towards the table. Everyone was looking up at me. Was I supposed to say something? I gave a weak smile and waved. It's all I could do, I don't think my voice would work if I tried.

I felt Bruce hand on my shoulder gently pushing me down. I took my seat and so did Bruce. I felt Dick's hand on my back. I kept my eyes on my plate then looked up to Bruce. "May I be excused?"

Bruce nodded. "Of course."

I stood up and quickly walked out of the nearest door, making sure to avoid looking at anyone at the table. I ended up in the Kitchen. Alfred was standing by the sink. "Miss Ashleigh, are you alright?"

I nodded but I could see myself shaking.

Obviously so could Alfred. "Take a seat Miss Ashleigh, I'll get you a glass of water."

I took a seat at the counter. I heard a door open behind me. "Alfred is Ashleigh here?" Bruce noticed me and rushed to my side. "Ashleigh are you okay?"

"I'm so sorry." My words were shaky. I was holding back tears.

I felt Bruce's arms wrap around me. "You don't need to be sorry. It was just too many people, I understand."

I began sobbing. "I thought... I could..."

"Ashleigh, this won't go away over night. No one is expecting it to."

Alfred stood on the other side of me and handed me a glass of water. "Drink Miss Ashleigh it will help."

I sat there sipping the water for a couple minutes until I had calmed down. Bruce and Alfred never left my side. I giggled a little while sobbing. "A great first impression."

"No one will judge you. I promise." Bruce reassured me.

I nodded. "Is it okay if I go up to my room?"

"Of course." Bruce took his arms from around me. "Do you want someone to come up with you?" I shook my head. Bruce nodded. "I'll come check on you in a while."

I nodded and walked towards the door. I headed up to my room. Everyone must have been still eating cause I didn't run into anyone on my way up. I locked myself in the room and began piecing together the set the boys had broken.

Some time passed when a knock at the door startled me out of my building trance. How long had I been at this. I stood up and opened the door. Bruce was standing there. "Hi, I just wanted to check on you ." Bruce glanced around me at the mess of Lego across the wooden floor. "You collect Lego?"

I looked back at the mess. "Yeah."

"Some of the others buy the occasional ones but I don't think any are into collecting it." Bruce commented.

"Oh cool." I smile at him.

His smile faded. "I want to apologise about this evening. I'm so sorry about that."

I gave Bruce a small smile. "It's okay. I'm okay."

Bruce sat down on the bed beside me. "Seeing all those people would be intimidating at the best of times. Under your circumstances I-" He stopped himself. "I'm sorry. Take things at your own pace, however fast or slow that is."

I leaned into him and place my head against his shoulder. "Thank you."

He place his arm around me and we sat like that for a while.

Eventually I spoke. "I really should probably get to sleep."

Bruce nodded and stood up. "If you need anything you know where to find me."

I nodded. Bruce hesitated for a moment then left. I locked the door behind him and checked my phone. 22:36. I pushed my mess to one corner of the room then hopped into bed. It wasn't long before I fell asleep.

[mdemontespan1667]

Some Other Night

Sequel to One Night 

Dark!Nomad!Steve Rogers x Reader

Synopsis: An old friend reappears.

WARNINGS: NON-CON/VAGINAL SEX/ORAL SEX/VIOLENCE TOWARDS READER/VIOLENCE TOWARDS OTHER CHARACTERS/SEX POLLEN

You knew it was him. He was trying to hide in the dimly light corner but you had pegged him as soon as you walked in for your shift. A shiver ran down your spine breaking your skin into goosebumps. You had known he would eventually find you but it was still a shock.

“Hey, sweet cheeks. You plan on clocking in or are you just gonna fucking stand there and play with yourself. It’s Thursday night. Those wannabe all stars will be rolling in soon.”

Dammit. As always Dickie had impeccable timing. So much for leaving before you were noticed.

You felt the weight of his stare all night. It took everything you had to act normal, act like the man who had terrorized you and your dreams wasn’t sitting 20 feet away. It helped that three local softball teams had won their games. The victories required a continuous supply of Coors Light pitchers and Jager bombs. 

---------------------------------------------------------------

 It was almost midnight when he made his move.

“I think you have something of mine.”

The rocks glass you were holding slipped from your hand. It bounced off the floor mat and shattered. You bent down to collect the pieces but he grabbed you by the elbow, half yanking you over the bar. 

“Please don’t start anything here,” You pleaded. “See those idiots over there in the “Big Dirty Balls” jerseys? They’re very protective of the female employees. I don’t want them to get hurt. Please.”

His gripped tightened before releasing you. 

“Fine, I’ll play nice for now. But you owe me and I plan on taking it out of your ass.” 

He smiled innocently.

“Now be a useful little cunt and get me a shot. I suggest you have one too. You’re gonna need it.”

----------------------------------------------------------

By 2 am it was down to just the two of you and Dickie. You could tell he was getting impatient.

“You’re just prolonging the inevitable sweet cheeks. Get rid of the redhead or I’ll snap her skinny fucking neck.”

You attempted to control the shaking in your voice.

“I’ll close up if you want to take off Dickie.”

“Are you sure? It’s technically my night to close and,” she winked, “it looks like you might have something better to do.”

Smiling you replied, “I’m sure.” 

“Alright. I ain’t gonna argue with you.” 

She bent down and retrieved her purse from under the counter.

“I’ll see ya Saturday night. Enjoy your day off.”

With that Dickie sailed out the door. 

You stared at the floor.

“So what happens now.”

“Now,” he grabbed  the back of your neck and bounced your head off the bar, “the fun starts.”

The blood from your broken nose dripped over your lips and down your chin, staining your t-shirt. 

“I told you what would happen little girl. I mean how fucking stupid are you. Craigslist ads for my bike? Running your mouth to the tabloids. Did you think I was joking.”

His hands tangled in your hair then he drug you across the bar. Straws, fruit and napkins littered the floor in your wake.

“Please, not here,” you cried. “They have cameras. I rent the apartment upstairs. I have the key to the garage where your bike’s at up there.”

Placing a soft kiss on your neck he whispered, “Lead the way.”

Your feet dragged as you walked towards the back door.

He yanked you back against him.

“You’re pissing me the fuck off.”

His hand fell heavy between your shoulder blades and shoved. 

“MOVE.”

You tried to catch your balance but you were still disoriented from the earlier blow. The polished concrete rose up to meet your knees. Splinters of pain shot up your legs. His hands sunk back into your hair, pulling you up on your tiptoes. You pulled the keys from your back pocket, unlocked and then re-locked the door once you were outside, leaving a bloody trail behind.

“It’s up there,” you pointed up the steep stairs. 

“After you princess.”

There was a slight slur to his words. Halfway up you thought you heard him stumble. You didn’t dare turn around to find out.

By the time you opened the apartment door he was most definitely swaying. 

“Are you ok,” you inquired sweetly.

He lashed out toward you but you easily sidestepped his punch. With all your strength you charged at him, catching him in his midsection. Your momentum carried him across the room. The two of you crashed onto your bed. 

Before he could recover you attached the heavy steel handcuffs to his outstretched hands. Just as quickly you repeated the process with his ankles. Standing back you admired your handwork. 

“I’ll be damned. It fucking worked. Let’s see if we can go two for two.”

Reaching into your nightstand drawer, you retrieved a small gold envelope. 

“What the fuck are you doing. I’m gonna smear your goddamn brains all over the fucking floor.”

The bed shook with his efforts but the anchors held.

You dumped some of the pinkish colored powder in to your hand. 

“This might sting a little,” you smiled, blowing the powder directly in his face. 

“What the fuck are you doing you stupid bitch,” he coughed on the acrid substance.

“Having fun. Isn’t that what you said came next. Come on Captain America, aren’t you having fun.”

You stepped out of your shoes and began undressing.

He pulled at the restraints and found it was useless.

“What did you do to me you fucking cunt. When I get out of these I’m gonna shoot you in the head and fuck the goddamn bullet hole.”

Ignoring his outburst you climbed onto the bed and settled yourself on his stomach, legs spread wide.

“I have to admit, I wasn’t sure if it was going to work. It took me three months to settle on this place. Another two months putting all the pieces together. I was starting to think you’d never show up.”

His eyes started to take on a dazed look.

“Do you have any idea the shit you can find on the web if you have the patience and the money. When your little friend Black Widow released all that Hydra stuff a few years ago a nice little black market popped up. It’s like a fucking candy store out there.”

You reached up and started to palm your breasts, teasing the nipples into hard buds. His eyes followed your motions. 

“I swear you can find anything out there. For instance, did you know that Hydra had developed an antidote of sorts for your inhuman strength. It’s not permanent, more’s the pity, but it should last long enough.”

Dipping your hand into your folds you smeared some of the wetness on your harden nipples. 

“As for the powder, well it has some long ass complicated name that I can’t fucking pronounce but it was advertised as sex dust.”

You drew one hand down your belly and started circling your clit. He licked his lips.

“Can you imagine,” a low moan escaped your lips, “sex dust. I figured it was just bullshit but it works. So does the little pill that keeps me from being infected.”

Your eyes closed as your fingers moved faster.

“You know, except for the whole slamming my face into the wall thing, which fucking hurt by the way, I wouldn’t have minded the rough sex. I mean it’s really no fun if you don’t end up with a few bruises and bite marks.”

To emphasize your words you leaned down and bit his shoulder. The groan that your bite illicited brought an evil grin to your face. You felt your orgasm start to build. Your tongue slid across his collarbone. 

Stopping briefly to nip at his neck, you whispered in his ear.

“So now I’m going to get the night I wanted.”

You came hard, back arching, legs squeezing his chest. 

Sitting up you noted the sheen of sweat that had formed on his forehead. He raised his head up.

“You’re fucking dead. You hear me bitch,” he spat but there was no force behind his words.

You brought your finger to your mouth and whispered, “Shhhh.”

Standing up you sauntered over to your second hand dresser, taking out a vibrator and your trusty trench knife. You flipped the switch on the vibe. The soft hum filled the room. He raised his head again, this time his eyes were wide with panic.

“Oh don’t worry sweet cheeks,” you sneered. “I’ll admit I seriously entertained shoving this so far up your ass you’d taste the ghosts of my orgasms past. But that was the one consideration you gave me. So, for now, Americas’s ass is safe.”

Standing next to the bed you reached down and ran your hand over his denim encased cock.

“Does it hurt. He told me that the only way to get that shit out of your system was to get off. I experimented on the busboy. Poor kid thought he was going to die. But I made it all better. Do you want me to make it all better for you.”

He gritted out “Fuck you.”

“Well, that attitude isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

You flipped the knife up, catching the grip in midair. With the other hand you took a hold of the bottom of his shirt. In one motion you brought the knife up, splitting the shirt and leaving a shallow cut running up his torso.

After tossing the knife on the bed, making sure it was out of his limited reach, you walked to the end of the bed and climbed back on, slowly crawling up his legs. With practiced ease you undid his belt and eased the zipper down. You hooked your hands under his jeans and pulled. His hips titled up slightly allowing you to slide first the jeans and then his boxers down to his knees.

Finally freed his swollen cock stood at attention. Your tongue swiped up the length then swirled over the head. Licking your lips you took the entire thing into your mouth. You glided up and down, your tongue flicking the head on each up stroke. It didn’t take long before you felt the telltale twitching. The “pop” as you pulled your mouth off echoed around the room. 

“Did you like that. I’ve been practicing just for you.”

You rose up on your knees. Taking him in your hand you rubbed the tip against your slit.

“Do you want me to fuck you. All you have to do is beg.”

He ground his teeth together and stayed silent. 

Letting go you moved forward until you hovered just above his face. 

‘Since you don’t feel like talking let’s put that mouth to good use.”

You reached for the knife and ran the brass knuckles down his cheek. 

“And, let’s see how did it go, if i feel one tooth or even a piece of popcorn left over from the last time you jerked your boyfriend off at the movies I will break your fucking jaw.”

You lowered your pussy to his lips. He took a few hesitant swipes before settling in. The man knew how to eat a girl out. Between his tongue and lips he had you on the edge in no time. Not trusting him to finish the job you slipped your hand under his head and pressed his face further between your legs.

The pressure kept building until it exploded in sparks that flowed through your belly into your arms and legs. 

“That’s such a good boy,” you mumbled as you rode out the tremors.

You scooted back down his chest. Your hand found his cock and pumped it twice before lowering yourself onto the tip. His hiss was music to your ears.

“Beg. Beg me to fuck you, you piece of shit.”

“N, n, no.”

You grabbed the vibrator, sank it into you folds and fucked your cunt mercilessly.

“Don’t you want this to be you,” You mewled.

“Beg or I leave you here. It’ll be hours before you’re strong enough to break free and, trust me, no one is going to come looking for me. You’ll be stuck here in agony. Beg me to fuck you and I promise on my daddy’s grave I’ll take care of you, make it all go away.”

You watched the emotions float across his face, anger, hate, lust, and, at last, defeat.

“Please.”

“Not good enough.”

He whimpered.

“Please fuck me.”

With his words in your pocket you pulled the vibrator free, relaxed your stance and let him in.

 A pained “Fuck” broke from under his breath. 

You rolled your hips in a torturous rhythm. Needing more you leaned back, supporting yourself with on hand while the other sought out your tight nub. His cock was hitting your sweet spot with every glide.

Pulling yourself back up, you slapped him hard.

“I could fucking kill you for cheating me out of this.”

His face was contorted in pleasure and you knew he was close. His eyes were locked on your pussy.

You slapped him again.

“Eyes up here pretty boy. You’re going to remember my face every time you cum. You’ll never forget me.”

Your orgasm cut off your voice. It was much stronger than the first. You could feel your walls squeezing him. Still shaking you slipped his cock out of you and jerked him off until he came, the ropes streaking across his chest and face. 

Crawling off him, you found his ruined t-shirt. After wiping yourself clean you threw it at him. 

“Oh I forgot to tell you that it takes more than just once for the pain to go away. In fact it makes it worse.”

“You fucking cunt. You promised,” he bellowed.

You flashed a toothy grin.

“I lied.”

Picking up your clothes you got dressed while he railed at you, calling you names and making threats.

You walked across the room and stood next to the bed. 

“There’s just one more thing.”

The knife flashed as it slashed across his forehead. Blood poured down his face. 

“Now we’re fucking even.”

Without looking back you left, feeling free for the first time in months.

@shikin83 @jtargaryen18 @imanuglywombat @mom---nicole @kiki5283 @imdarkinme @mississippifangirl @marvelfansworld @allaboardthereadingrailroad @jilldsumner 

[comic-nerd-dc]

Dick Grayson x oc

Pardon it may suck and has more mature themes so be forewarned and some curse words and hinting at stuff and I’m sorry if this sucks

——————————————————————————

Dick fucking Grayson, I'm moving to Detroit, ok I wasn’t going to let my best friend move alone until he fucking disappeared and I’ve been searching for this boy across the country to find him in some stupid safe house so I show up at the compound and bang on the wall because I know that’s the door.

“Richard John Grayson you let me in or I swear to god I will cut off your” and the door opened. Now I a bit younger than him at 20 while he’s 22 but I’ve known him since the circus days. My parents were killed that night as well, I just didn't get a millionaire to take me in. I bounced from foster care till I was on my own

“You better have a real fucking good explanation for LEAVING ME IN DETROIT” I yell when I see someone in the corner of my eyes a boy maybe a year or two younger than me

“Who is she,” the boy asks

“Not important” Dick snaps

“Who is he,” I ask

“Not important” I ignore him

“Hi I’m Aaliyah nice to meet ya,” I say winking when arms around my waist yank me back

“No,” Dick says and I turn around remembering I’m mad at him

“Oh yeah and next time you decide to skip town maybe write a fucking note” I snap

“I would have never just left also I’m Jason” he adds in

“Hi Jason” I wink “see Jason would have never left me behind”

“Will you stop talking for a second god your annoying” Dick snaps instantly realizing what he said see I got used to being called a whore or dumbass but I’m not sure why annoying was my trigger word

“I see, uhh ill just leave then, sorry for caring,” I say I can feel the tears falling

“No you know that’s not what I meant I’m sorry, Aalyiah I- don’t leave” I hear dick begging

“No it’s fine I get it, who needs me” I snap

“I do” Jason finally says and I look at him and smile, he opens his arms in a hug so I walk over and hug him, tall enough for my head to rest on his chest as my tears dry we sit but I stay near Jason.

“Aalyiah come on get away from him” he tries but when 3 people walk in.

“Who are they,” the oldest girl asks

“Not important” I answer

“You seem important to me,” the green-haired boy says trying to flirt I smile and move to go talk to him and be polite when Jason grabs my waist pulling me closer to him. I look at him and he’s glaring at greeny

“Jay whatcha doing,” I ask with a smile and his eyes light up

“Jay?” he asks about the nickname

“Well yeah I just though Jason, jay, is that ok,” I ask suddenly self-conscious and he nods vigorously

“Nope” I hear and suddenly I’m over a shoulder

“What the hell,” I ask

“Dick what are you doing,” the redhead says

“Give me one second to deal with this korie thanks” he turns and starts to walk away I just stop struggling

“Ouch,” I say as he just drops me into the floor of apparently a bathroom

“What the fuck Aalyiah,” he asks

“What the fuck me, what the fuck you” I snap

“You show up out of nowhere pissing on me dressed like a hooker and then hit on my replacement, he’s too young for you” he snaps

“I showed up after driving trying to find my best friend who ditched out of nowhere and I got worried when you didn't come home, I’m pissing on you because I was scared and angry you left me behind, and I’m dressed like a hooker because not everyone has a rich foster dad and gas cost money about half way threw the trip I ran out and needed to do something, by the way, its fucking cold” I snap his eyes widen and he pulls off his coat placing it on me

“You got a temporary job as a Stripper to pay to come to find me,” he asks in disbelief

“Sure Stripper that’s it” I attempt to lie and he takes a step back

“No,” he says more to himself and I look down embarrassed

“Oh my god, you prostituted?” he says

“Are you,- don’t patronize me, I also don’t have any other clothes?” I ask but instead of answering he just throws me back over his shoulder

“You know I can walk right” I laugh

“Yes but I like having power over you” he laughs and I roll my eyes he plops me down in the middle of the floor

“This is Aalyiah, my best friend since she was born” he smiles

“Since she was born how old is she,” kore asks

“ Hi umm I’m 20” I hear Jay say yes under his breath

“ that’s Rachel and Garfield” he smiles

“How do you fit them all in the Porsche?” I ask and he looks down

“Noooo, you got a van” I laugh

“Fill me in,” I say and they do

“Ok so you three stay here while Dick, Jay and I go get the other dude” I smile

“How are you coming,” Dick asks

“Hard and fast baby” he laughs at the inside joke

“Undercover obviously, its a lot less noticeable when a guy and a girl go to a club than just a guy I’m Jays blend in” I smile

“Jasons? What about me” Dick asks almost jealous

“You are over 21, dicky” I smile

“You’re not” he adds

“You are absolutely correct my friend but people don’t question a girl with an amazing fake ID and you know how far I would go for you so don’t push it” I smile

“Who wants to see how far she’d go for him because I sure as hell do,” Garfield says and Jason and he both raise their hands

“No, oh my god, no stop hitting on her, come on Jason go change meet here in like 20 we have to change as well” dick adds we walk to his room

“Hey, are you okay?” I ask

“Yeah, just please stop flirting with Jason” he begs

“Why jealous” I push until he turns around walking towards me, I step back into a wall and he cages me in with his arms

“And if I was, would you stop,” he asks lips brushing mine as he speaks

“Dick your not doing this to me again,” I say putting my hands on his chest to push him away even though I don’t push

“What do you mean, last time was great wasn’t it?” he questions, the last time we fucked was about a 3 weeks ago and then I woke up and he was gone.

“ Dick I’m not some plaything ok, I’m too attached to you to do that again because you don’t want me. You want your best friend and a good lay on the side and that’s not me, I’m not yours” I say

“Of course you are, come one Aalyiah and I’m not so possessive that you would be broken in the end come on you know me better than that,” he says and I look him in the eyes not backing down

“Dick, I’ve prostituted myself to find you, I’ve worn another man’s collar while he fucked me, one man was into knife play I still have the scar,” I say pulling my dress up showing the scars on my body

“I’ve done things I never want to do again to find you, how does that feel deep down, because I wouldn’t change a thing it meant I could find you, but what happens in 2 months when you run off again and I have to find you, what happens when I’m yours you want to kill any man who touches me because I know that, that is you, Dick, I saw it with Barbra” I snap

“I won’t ever leave you again sandy come on, and you aren’t Barbra,” he says and I sigh smiling up at him

“Your right I’m not, you committed to Barbra. Look Dick don’t take it personally, I’m not yours, your not mine, so I can fuck whoever I like and so can you, can I borrow some clothes” I smile

“Uh, yeah I guess, this is new to me,” he says handing me a shirt and a pair of jeans, I go grab a shoelace from his shoes

“What is, rejection?” I laugh

“Yes actually” he snaps and I look at him

“I’ll just change somewhere else then if your gonna be that way,” I say

“I'm not trying to hurt you Aalyiah, and you know that but god damn it, I saw dawn a week ago and you just brought up Barbra and all I could think of was how nither of them compared to you, and you won’t even give me a chance,” he says

“Would I be your girlfriend” I snap

“What,” he asks

“You heard me, would I be your girlfriend, or would I just be left without that commitment,” I ask

“Yeah you would be my girlfriend,” he says

“Yeah ok, we can try,” I say

“ But I am still faking with Jason tonight” I smile, kiss his cheek and walk into the bathroom to shower

“What just happened” I hear him ask himself when I’m done I change into his top and jeans using the shoelace to fit them around my waist and roll up the legs

“Alrighty how do I look,” I ask

“Beautiful, so I can kiss you when I want now right, like in front of those people out there to prove you are mine?” he asks and I laugh and nod as we walk back to the living room area

“Alrighty ready to go, Jay,” I ask as Dick puts an arm around my waist

“If yall are dating you should know like 2 weeks ago we had sex,” korie says and my eyes widen

“You what” I snap

“Don’t even go there Aalyiah” he gives me a look and I know I wouldn’t win that battle

“ Rude” I snap and we walk to the club

“ID” bouncer asks and I show him mine as he just assumes Jason’s same as me we get in

“Stay hidden and be careful ok,” Dick says before finding his guy except then the club like burns down and we get thrown out because of Jason and we lose Our friend from the circus they both change into the costume and I go in in the shirt and jeans

“Richard Grayson you killed my dad ill kill him,” he says and I walk over to grab our friend but he had acid hitting him drip by drip and while Jason tried to Cuss the guy out Dick tried to reason with him and argue with Jason, I went over and started to untie Clayton letting the acid hit me instead of him and I get him out with burns up and down my back and arms once out the plant explodes and Jay runs off and Dick gets Clayton to safety and I pretend everything is fine until I get back to the Compound and Dick smiles at me

“We did it Lyiah,” he says and I pass out when I wake up again I have bandages everywhere I go to sit up

“She’s awake” I hear Gar yell and see Dick sit up by my side

“Why the fuck didn't you say anything you could have died you’re kidding me right” he snaps and I grab his hand

“Dick are you going to yell at me more or kiss me,” I ask and his face softens and he leans down to kiss me

“Eww its lowkey like watching your parents kiss” I hear Rachel say and I flip her off and hear her laugh as she and the others walkout

“How long was I out?” I ask and he smiles

“A few hours we got you bandaged and you where good, you scared me,” he says and I laugh

“Imagine how I felt in Detroit” he smiles at me

“Even” he sticks out his hand as a handshake agreement

“Even” i grab his hand and pull him into another kiss

[scottishhellhound]

Okay so this was brought on by a conversation I had with @hyperactive-lectiophile about what might happen if Wally, being the genius chemist he is, the guy that recreated the exact conditions that gave Barry his abilities, decided to one day try and create something that would allow him to get drunk.

I'm not sure if this is what either of us originally had in mind, but this is how it went, Haha.

Pairing: Birdflash

Characters: Dick Grayson, Wally West, Roy Harper.

Wordcount: 3100+ ( I really hope the read more tag works! I'm sorry if it doesn't 😭)

Green eyes danced with excitement as Wally nodded to himself, looking over his notes for the formula one more time. Making sure all his ingredients were there and the measurements were correct. He didn't want to risk messing this up. One, the result of slowing down his metabolism enough for his experiment to work could be....well bad would be putting it mildly. And two, he really didn't want to have to try and explain to his friends and family his reasoning for wanting to try this. He was in college, it was just part of the experience, so why not?

Formula and ingredients confirmed, he set his list aside and reaching up with the other hand lowered his goggles over his eyes, an excited grin rapidly spreading across his face.

"This is going to be awesome!"

Several hours later

Dick chuckled, from his position upside down on the sofa, as Roy 'boo'd' at the screen, throwing a handful of popcorn alongside Garfield and Victor. They'd made it a challenge to throw popcorn at the screen everytime the villain was referred to as a monster, once it was said more than 6 times in the first 10 minutes. They were on their third bowl of popcorn already, and they were only halfway through.

He started when he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket, and reached for it. "Hey guys, pause this for a sec, will ya. Incoming phone call."

He waited a moment while Gar scrambled for the remote, quietly laughing when he answered, "Hello?"

"Hi, I'm sorry to be calling so late, but, is this Dick Grayson?"

Dick's eyes narrowed in suspicion, and he used his free hand to balance his weight as he kicked his legs and up into a one handed stand, before dropping his legs back to the floor and standing. "Not a problem man, and yup, that's me. Can I ask how you got this number though? It's not exactly advertised."

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Victor already running a trace on the call.

"I have a rather drunk young man who dialed it for me, before he vanished back onto the dance floor."

Dick frowned. That didn't help.

"Drunk young man? Did they give you a name? What's he look like?"

If it wasn't for the fact that he was currently 4 months sober and sitting on the couch five feet from him, Dick would have immediately guessed Roy. But seeing his second best friend looking at him curiously from his cushion, that was ruled out.

His second thought was Jay. He knew his younger brother had a fake ID, a rebellious streak, and looked older than his 15 years. And thanks to a steady influx of good nutrition for 3 years, growth spurts and puberty had finally hit Jason. A fact that the second Robin was immensely pleased about.

Luckily Roy was on his same thought train and had his phone out, texting quickly, deft fingers flying over the screen.

"Not Jaybird. He's currently in Gotham chasing Penguin with DaddyBats."

Dick gave a silent thumbs up, mouthing back, 'Never call him that again,' and turned his attention back to the phone as the man on the other end started to speak. "No name, but he's tall, red hair, green eyes, and has more freckles than skin."

"That's Wal... wait, Wally's drunk!" Disbelief and fear sunk into the pit of everyone's stomachs at that exclamation.

"As a skunk." The bartender sighed over the line, frustration and empathy clear in his next words. "Look I don't care if you think I'm wrong, or pranking, or whatever, but you need to come collect your friend before I call the cops."

"Don't." Was Dick's panicked reply. He was already leaping over the back of the couch, Roy right behind him, as Garfield and Victor headed for the monitor room, to try and see if they could retrace their friends steps. See who had gotten to him. "I'm on my way. Where's your bar located?"

[[MORE]]

Dick and Roy pull up outside a small bar in New Yorks west end about 30 minutes later. Both jumped out of the car hurrying towards the entrance, hoping their friend was still contained within. They did not want to figure out the logistics behind how they were going to catch and then contain a drunk speedster if he'd managed to escape.

A bouncer met them at the door, holding a hand up to halt the line that was waiting, and waved the pair through.

"They gots him holed up in one of the back rooms. I'll show ya where."

"Thank you!" Dick didn't bother to hide how relieved he was over that, as he and Roy ducked under the burly man's arm and into the bar.

"He hasn't caused any trouble has he?" Roy asked, raising his voice to be heard over the heavy bass and loud chatter that always seemed to fill up places like this. He kept his hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket, left hand spinning and twirling the sobriety chip he kept there.

"Nah, a little handsy, but more...friendly than trying for somethin' if you get my meanin'."

Dick nodded, a fond smile wiping away his worry for a moment. "Yeah, Walls always been a bit clingy."

As they followed the doorman through the bar, Dick nudged Roy's shoulder, raising a dark brow in a silent question.

Roy grinned back, giving a thumbs up, and pulling his chip out of his pocket briefly before replacing it.

Dick smiled back and threw an arm around his friends shoulder, giving him a quick, but heartfelt hug, before dropping his arm back to his side.

He appreciated Roy coming with him, knowing how hard this had to be for him. Especially after everything he'd been through to get to where he was now.

Roy nodded before tapping the shoulder of the bouncer gaining his attention. "So did anyone see anybody slip him something? Was he talkin' to anyone? Get in any fights?"

The man shook his head as he led then through a side door, opening into a well lit, empty hallway. "Not that anyone seen or mentioned. Boss asked around, just in case, ya know? Guy just came in, alone, sat his skinny ass at the bar, and started drinkin'." He let the door fall shut behind them, and the cacophony from the bar floor was cut in half, allowing them to speak without yelling. "Checked his tab, guys had 4 beer and about 5 shots of whiskey. I'm surprised he ain't passed out yet."

"Wally's always been a bit of a heavyweight when it comes to drinking." Dick lied easily as his mind tried to make sense of everything.

Wally's metabolism didn't allow for him to get drunk.

They tried one night after a bad mission.

Dick had had the worst hangover in his life to that point, Roy hadn't woken up until the following evening, and Wally acted as if he hadn't polished off a bottle of vodka on his own.

He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. He'd just have to ask Wally what'd happened. Once they got him somewhere safe to sober up.

"I'll say. Haven't seen anyone put the drink away like that in a long time. Anyway second door on the left." He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, indicating which door to go through. "We left one of our girls in there with him, make sure he stayed put. Send her back out will you"

"Will do."

"Good. You can take him out the back door there. The boss said you squared up with him already."

"Yeah, sent him cash on the drive over. Thanks again for not calling the cops."

"Guy was harmless enough. If alla our drunks were like him, they wouldn't need us, so we don't mind bein' nice nows and again. "

He waved as he walked back out into the bar, the sound echoing down the empty hall before cutting off again once the door closed.

Roy clapped him on the shoulder once before making his way towards the aforementioned door. "Well let's go get your speedster and get the hell outta here."

"Right."

The sight that greeted Dick and Roy had the red head chuckling, hiding a laugh behind his hand. The poor waitress looked bored out of her mind, as Wally waxed poetic about something, hand motions and open expressions being thrown everywhere.

The waitress looked up as they entered, eyes zeroing in on Dick as he stepped in behind Roy.

"Well hey there, sugar," she turned back to Wally tapping his knee and pointing over his shoulder. "Here's your big chance. Nothing like some liquid courage to help love along right?"

Both men gave her a confused look, but didn't get a chance to question her, because at that exact moment, Wally looked over his shoulder and spotted them.

"Roy! Dickie!"

"Hey there Wall-oof!" Dick grunted as he suddenly had an armful of a very happily drunk redhead, face buried into his neck, giggles being muffled into his shoulder. He looked over at Roy, only to scowl when he found the other man with his phone out, recording everything.

"Thanks Harper, super helpful." He pat's Wally's head, sighing as the man continues to giggle into his neck.

"Anytime Dickie, happy to help."

The scraping of chair legs across cement brings their attention back to the waitress as she stands, smoothing her skirt down her legs. "Well you boys seem to have him well in hand." She walked over to where the three stood in the door way, hips swaying gently as she approached the door. She twisted between them and as she passed gave Dick a small smile and a giggled, "Good luck," before slipping out the door.

"What was that about?"

Roy shrugged, turning his phone back to Dick, grinning as the younger man scowled at him. "Who knows. Come on wonder-boy, let's get him outta here."

"Fine." Dick sighed before he poked Wally's forehead, trying to get the taller man to raise his head. "Hey Walls, come on man. Let's get you home okay. "

He felt Wally nod agaisnt his shoulder before he stiffened and stood straight, looking down at Dick like he just remembered he was there.

"Dick?"

"Yeah...Wally you okay, man?"

The taller man nodded, head bobbing wildly, like a bobble head in the middle of a high speed chase.

"Uh-huh, but...Dick, Dickie, I gotta tell you something real quick!"

"Okay, but can it wait until we get you outside? You're drunk and that shouldn't be possible."

He ignored Roy's snickering next to him as Wally seemed to become even more nervous and agitated. "Nope, it's important!"

"Okay, okay Wally. What is it?"

Wally took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut, as if waiting for a punch to the face. "I...I have a really big crush on you!"

Roy slapped a hand over his mouth, shoulders twitching and the hand holding his phone shaking, as he tried to contain his laughter.

Dick could feel his own lips start to twitch as he stared at Wally. He gripped the red heads shoulder, shaking him lightly. He waited until Wally cracked one eye open to look at him before saying, "Walls, we're dating."

"We are!!?!"

"Yes, we have been for the last two years."

"Oh... that's good then."

Wally seemed a little lost after that, unsure of what to do or say, now that his proclamation wasn't as climactic as he'd apparently been hoping for.

Dick reached up and ran a hand through Wally's hair, getting his attention. "Wally. Do you remember how you got here?"

Wally tilted his head, partially because he seemed confused, but he was also chasing the feeling of Dick's fingers in his hair. "Mmm, walked."

Dick smiled at the slightly dopey look on his face. "That's good, do you remember if anyone gave you anything on the way here, or before?"

"No one gave m'anythin'. Oh well the guy at the bar gave me my drinks...is that what you meant?"

"No, baby, you're drunk." Dick smiled a bit through his worry at the way Wally's face was crinkled up in thought. Trying to put his usually sharp mind into some kind of order. "You can't get drunk, remember, so we're trying to see if someone-"

"I can get drunk! Or I can now."

"What?" His question was echoed by Roy, who was for some reason still recording this who debacle.

And Wally grinned, clearly proud of himself. " I made a form...formu... I made something to help me get drunk!"

Roy was back to laughing and Dick could feel a tightness forming between his eyes.

"That's, that's great, Wally. Why don't you tell us all about it in the car on the way home, okay?"

"Okay!"

Roy held the door open as Dick, with a hand at the small of Wally's back guided him through it, keeping a hand raised ready to catch him if he tripped.

Which he did.

Several times as the alcohol was finally making itself fully known, affecting the speedsters ability to walk upright.

Dick sighed as he caught Wally's arm, keeping him from tripping into the alley wall as the exited outv the back of the bar.

He tossed an annoyed look at Roy, as he pulled Wally's arm over his shoulder, sinking a bit as Wally rested most of his weight on him. "You gonna help, Harper? Or just play Scorsese for the rest of the night?"

Roy just grinned as he zoomed in on the cross look on his friend's face, ignoring the excellent impression of bat glare he was recieving. It's affect lessened by the fact that Wally was now poking at Dick's cheek, giggling softly to himself.

"You seem to have everything under control. Besides," he turned his phone to focus on Wally now, taking in the flush on his cheeks and the haze in normally bright green eyes. "You know he'd be upset if this wasn't recorded so he could study it later."

Dick was silent as he finally got both of Wally's feet moving in the same direction, and led him towards the car. He groaned and let his head drop. "Dammit, you're right."

"I'm always right, Grayson. When are you just gonna give in and accept it?"

"When pigs fly...or if Raven ever says yes to go on a date with Garfield."

"Ouch. Words hurt, ya know." But Roy's smiling when he finally turns off the phone and steps up to Wally's free side taking his other arm.

Dick laughs and tugs Wally's arm further over his shoulder, sighing a bit as Roy takes some of his taller boyfriends weight. "Zip it and help me get him in the car."

Roy laughed at the scene playing out in the back seat, from his position behind the wheel. His phone propped up on the dash, recording once again. It was partially because he knew Wally would want the data, but also in part because he knew they'd never get to see Wally like this again, and it was adorable. He wished he'd been recording when they'd reached the car. It had taken Dick crawling in first and dragging the drunk redhead in after him, but they had finally gotten him into the vehicle

Once in the car, face tucked back into Dick's shoulder, Wally had seemed to slip into a semi-conscious state and alternated between nodding off and talking their ears off about formulas, melted beakers, and burnt tables.

"Although, that was technically because of a leaking hose, and not because I'd miscalculated."

"That's good, sweetheart." Dick just nodded along as Wally muttered into his shirt, fingers still carding through red hair as he listened.

Wally had just taken a breath to start in on something else when he went absolutely still.

"Wally what's wrong?"

"Oh God..."

"Wal? You gonna be sick?"

"We're dating?"

Roy watched the look of confused hurt flash across Dick's face in the rearview mirror, and started reaching for the phone.

"Yes? Wally, what-"

"I'm dating Batman's kid!" Wally's voice went up several octaves. "Batman is gonna kill me!"

Roy had to pull over he was laughing so hard, and he could hear Dick groaning a laugh as Wally continued to panic.

"Wally, babe, B isn't going to kill you."

"You don't know that!" He was sitting up, straddling Dick's waist, staring down at him in horror.

"Two years, Wally." Dick sat up and cradled Wally's face in his hands, kissing his forehead. "Don't you think, if he was going to kill you, he'd of done it by now?"

"That's just what he wants you to think! He's...he's a master of disintegration!"

Dick blinked up at him in confusion for a moment, "You mean deception?"

Wally nodded, "Yes, that! He's lulling me into a false sense of security!"

Roy managed to get his laughter under control enough to gasp out. "Bats don't kill."

Instead of easing Wally's fears that seemed to make it worse.

"You're right... he'll do something worse!"

Roy couldn't breathe he was laughing so hard, and he could hear Dick echoing him in the back seat, their combined laughter not quite drowning out Wally's ramblings as he came up with wilder and wilder things that Batman was going to do to him for dating his son.

Dick's laughter slowly faded as he saw how worked up and upset Wally was becoming. So he sat up fully and grabbed the back of his panicking boyfriend's neck, and pulled him into a brief kiss.

It worked and Wally's ramblings faded off.

"Dick?" Wally rested his forehead against Dick's when they finally pulled apart.

"Wally West, I love you with every fiber of my soul and I can promise you two things. "

Wally stared at him in awe, nodding his head.

"One, Bruce is not going to kill you, break your legs, sell you to Luthor for experimentation, or anything else. And two," he paused here for a moment, shifting his hand from his neck, to the side of his face, making sure Wally was looking right at him. "You are never, ever, ever drinking again. Got it?"

Wally nodded enthusiastically, head bobbing. "Got it!"

[ao3-ichigokage]

Sin City to Sin City Ch 4 Preview 1

~~~~~~~~

Decided to upload a preview of something I’m working on. But, I’m not far enough yet in Little Circus of Horrors to give another preview yet. Hoping to remedy that today! So, here is a preview of the next chapter of my full Gotham fanfic: Sin City to Sin City! I hope to get it done sometime in early November. I shall also work on Kinktober here and there as I’m inspired. I’m over halfway through it and, although it’s given me grief, I would like to see it through. Even if it takes longer than this month.

You can read Sin City to Sin City on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26266273

“The place is lookin’ great, Raoul.” The woman spoke and the man walked forward and his eyes widened and he couldn’t fight the smile that came across his face. A smile of relief as he dashed to the woman and embraced her tightly, easily lifting her from the ground and holding her close.

“You finally got out!” he cheered then set Olivia down, his drowsiness had now vanished at the sight of the woman he saw as a sister. “You just get out? You didn’t contact me?” he asked and looked her over. “Doesn’t look like you’ve been hurt at all. You mentioned some dickhead was givin you grief.”

Olivia rolled her eyes at the mention of the annoyance. “Dicky but you can bet your ass he lived up to the name. This asshole tried making me his prison wife or something. So I said ‘fuck you’, he strangled me then I boxed his ears.” Olivia laughed at the memory of Sionis dropping after she knocked the wind out of him. “It was hilarious honestly. He kept just getting in my way. Sending people to attack me. The week before I got out I nearly gouged a man’s eyes out cause of his pitiful ego.” She told him as she regaled her dear friend with how her time in Arkham went down.

“I remember you talking about another guy. Redhead like you. He didn’t attack you did he?” Raoul asked, more than willing to throw down for Olivia in an instant.

“Yeah…the one we kept hearing about before I was arrested; Jerome. Pretty cute guy I won’t lie. He was part of Sionis’ crew, the one that actually introduced me to the guy. He couldn’t be bothered to do it himself, the lazy little dick. But, we got along pretty well all things considered.” Jerome’s smile formed in her mind, his laughter reverberating in her head. “More than just pretty cute. Really fucking handsome and charming.” She bit her tongue at the thoughts however and shook her head.

Raoul sighed and wrapped an arm around Olivia’s shoulder. “There’s no one saying you can’t fall in love, boss. You’re still human.” He told her in a soft and reassuring tone.

Olivia shook her head again. “I’m tired of being hurt, Raoul. If I do find someone, they’re gonna have to be pretty damn special. And probably persistent as hell…” She pushed herself away from the man, hiding her face with her long hair. “You heading out somewhere?” she asked, brushing over the topic of her love life.

“Oh yeah. I was getting ready to get myself some good coffee and donuts for the workers. They’ll be here soon. You want anything, boss?” he asked her and he checked his pockets to make sure he had his keys and wallet.

Olivia waved her hand with a soft dismissal. “Nah. I grabbed something from a truck on the way here. I’ll take you sometime. Best sandwich I’ve ever had. I’ll take a jelly donuts though!” She began to look around, more than content with how the club looked. “You go on ahead, hun. I’m gonna stay and just look around. Been thinking about this place while I was locked up. I also better not go out unless necessary until I make my deal with the family.” She added, hand reaching into her top and pulling out the stone that helped her complete her mission.