#the way joe was an alcoholic and when he's finally getting rid of it he dies

[shivieroy]

I'm obsessed with the symbolisms of midnight mass

[ozlices]

having Thoughts abt the gin is miley's son theory i wanna talk abt,,

my apologies in advance if anything we say has been said numerous times already. this game is super complex w a Lot of content we are still working our way through, both from the actual game and within the fandom, so! bare with us please lol

anyway, so.

one of the most compelling things for me wrt the theory is that gin is targeted in pretty much every chapter by a trap. lots of things seem to be set up specifically so he, as a young child with a very pure heart, would be targeted. like the twist about the tokens in chapter 2, for example. which could be a thing because they're aware of miley's intentions and want to get rid of him to stop her.

i feel like,,, if the theory is true, miley's intention was to join the games as a floormaster so she could have power in it to ensure gin's safety. even if he's not on her floor, she has still shown to be manipulating things to ensure he makes it out, like with gashu, making sure everyone knew of his transgressions so they had an out if it was needed.

i feel like her goal would be ensuring that he wins so they can take down the games from the inside, since it's pretty universally accepted that the reward for winning is to most likely become the new asunaro leader.

and, easily, her motive could be tons of resentment for driving her lover mad and making him an alcoholic, and also resentment for forcing her son to participate in something like this.

it would also make sense for her seeming to hate sara and trying to target her. i'm sure the floormasters know what everyone's role is meant to be, including that sara is meant to be the winner. she probably holds resentment towards her for that, but. sara is also very clearly probably the most precious person to gin in the games.

he fully sees her as a big sister figure, to a point where she's the person he runs to first when he needs to be consoled and held during a breakdown.

if it came down to just gin and one other person, the others would protect him sure, but sara is the only one that miley would be able to confidently believe would do whatever it took to protect him. she has had that exact notion tested numerous times, and never falters on that desire, even if it comes with a brutal cost.

i just think this theory adds so many interesting angles to so many dynamics within the games. if gin is miley's son, perhaps she knew he'd get attached to sara, so she agreed to help ensure sara's victory because she knew she'd protect him and ensure his victory as well.

after all, maple confirms it is possible for two winners to win since a majority vote cannot be held with just two people. if miley can assure that sara wins, and sara had to come down to picking anyone over gin, sara would undoubtedly pick gin. the only person she might've picked over him is joe, and he's gone, so.

idk! i truly do not know but this is the theory i've seen that i've thought about the most and that compels me the most and i really cannot wait to see whether or not it comes to fruition in the finale, and How it comes to fruition if it is true cause it's. so good.

edit cause i just realized smth else: this would also explain what gin was doing when he went back down to the first floor and why he was safe. he was visiting his mom, and was unable to let the others know. it also makes sense as to why he's able to endure so much trauma and hardship at such a young age. he knows he has not just sara, but his mother watching over him and looking out for him as well.

[briamichellewrites]

78

Bria surprised the band with Mama and Slash. They were happy to have a kitten break. They had come from the vet, which they did not like! They hissed and Slash swatted at the assistant. It took a while for them to calm down. Once the appointment was over, they got to play together on the floor while Bria talked to the vet. She tried to make the carrier as friendly as possible by putting in familiar toys and a blanket with their scents on it.

Now, they were both being spoiled with attention and petting. The trauma of going to the vet was almost entirely forgotten. Mama made sure her brother behaved himself. Meow. Bria put some treats on the table. They both ate the treats happily. Thank you, human! Phoenix scratched Slash under his chin. That felt good! The guys were amused by the cats. Mama chewed on Rob’s finger.

He tasted like a human. Joe joked about putting their meows on the new album. They laughed. What was Bria up to for the rest of the day? She answered that she was hanging out with Brad and his friend, Bradley at her place. Maybe they could invite Brad to complete the trifecta. As much fun as that sounded, he had to stay and work. Chester asked if she could hang out. They made plans for him to text her when he was on his way over.

He then clarified that he was one hundred percent sober! Brad thanked him for clarifying. Yes, he was sober but it was getting hard to resist temptation. His mind was killing him and the only way to get rid of the abuse was to get high or drunk. Alcohol made the abuse worse. As much as he wanted to relapse, he also just wanted his best friend. That was what she was to him.

Finally, he met someone who understood what he was going through. She didn’t get angry with him for his addiction or throw him out. Instead, she invited him in and listened to him. If Joe wasn’t going to ask her out, he would. Mike asked him later in private about hanging out with Bria. He just needs a friend right now. It had nothing to do with drugs. Joe knew that he was going to ask her out because he knew everything going on in the band.

She would say yes to him because they were close friends. As happy as he would be for him, he knew in his heart it would never be him. Mike read his face. Usually, he wasn’t easy to read. Now, he read everything. He pulled him into a hug and insisted he came over. Okay.

Bria was making dinner while hanging out with Brad and Bradley. They were having fun laughing and joking. Mama and Slash already made their presence known by meowing. They climbed up to the counter and smelled what was on the stove. Before Slash could reach his paw into the hot water, she picked him up and put him on the floor. She was not wanting him to hurt himself! He meowed like a toddler not getting his way.

How dare his human make sure he didn’t burn himself! What kind of monster was she? Bradley looked down and laughed at him. She told him she loved him but he ran off back into the living room to pout. Mama watched him leave. He would be fine eventually. It was best to let him be alone.

“Should we check on him?”

“No, he’s just pouting. He’ll be fine, especially when he starts getting hungry.”

When Chester showed up, he introduced himself to Brad and Bradley after saying hello to Bria. What was she making? It smelled delicious! She was playing around with a vegetarian pasta. It had a lemon sauce with parsley and sunflower seeds. He was excited to try it! Brad asked if Mike would be coming over. No, he was hanging out with Joe. He would talk to him later, then.

It was delicious! Bradley was impressed! It tasted like a five-star restaurant! Since he and Chester were sober, she brought out cans of ginger ale with four glasses. She read online that wine went perfectly with the pasta, but she couldn’t buy it since she was underage. Brad asked if she ever looked into investing. Yes, she did! Their friend, Rob helped her invest ten percent into Apple. He went over everything with her kindergarten style.

He thought it was the safest investment, outside of Target. Did he have a background in investing? He graduated college with a degree in accounting, so he was good with numbers, money, and math. She wouldn’t have done it otherwise. Why didn’t she invest in Target? She couldn’t remember her reasoning. Was she sober? Unfortunately, yes. They laughed.

“Do you know how fucking hard it is to get marijuana? Your best bet is to get cocaine or meth because everyone and their mother is selling them. I’m not saying go out and do them. I’m just saying it’s easier to get those.”

“We know what you’re saying. Do not under any circumstances do meth! It will fuck your life up”, Chester said.

“Chessy, my life is already fucked up. But no, meth scares the shit out of me!”

Did he have personal experience? Yeah, he was a recovering drug addict. They didn’t ask any further questions because it wasn’t any of their business. What about that guy she used to talk to? They cut off contact because his wife sued the company she worked for. It was part of their divorce process. She was initially part of the lawsuit and was going to give her deposition.

Then, she found out that they had settled without going to court. Why would she be part of the lawsuit? Because his wife found out he was hiring escorts and she found out he had paid to go on a date with him. She didn’t even remember who he was but he was in her records.

“He was probably an asshole. That’s why I forgot about him”, she joked.

They laughed. Mike encouraged Joe to move on from Bria while they sat in his living room. He gave her a chance. That was all he could do. He deserved a woman who would love him for who he was. Yes, rejecting hurt but he couldn’t live the rest of his life obsessing about her. He nodded and agreed he was right. Someday, he would be able to look at her as a friend.

What about him and Brad? Did he ever feel self-conscious? It wasn’t that he felt self-conscious, but he had trouble with trust. He had moments where he had to remind himself that he loved him and would stay faithful to him. It was easier when he was dating Phoenix because they were in the same band, so he didn’t have to worry about him. His trust issues were something he was working on. He nodded and apologized for asking. It was nothing to apologize for.

Bradley was interested in Bria. She was gorgeous! He laughed and told him to ask her out before another guy did! You won’t regret it! He would do that, then! After getting her phone number, he texted her asking to see her. They made plans to go out for dinner the next night. I got it! Brad laughed and congratulated him! He just grinned!

William Bradley Pitt, are you setting Bradley and me up? – Bria

Haha no but yes! – Brad

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon @fiickle-nia

[indouloureux]

Could I request the reader getting pretty wasted and proposing to Eddie/Joe cause they already bought a ring and been trying to propose

hanshksjss okay im supposed to be asleep but i cant get this out of my head so enjoy enjoy

"joeeeeeey,"

he snickers, an arm around your waist and a hand on his key that he keeps on stabbing on the keyhole. "yes, love?"

"i gotta pee." you nestle your head on the crook of his neck, pouting. "and i'm really hungry."

"you can't eat now, lovie. it's late—aha!" finally, the door unlocks, hinges pushing the wooden frame until the doorknob hits the wall. joseph guides you inside, kicking the door shut and throws the keys aside, half-carrying you to your bedroom.

you whine, clasping onto his sleeve. "but i'm hungry."

"and you're going to vomit." he gently lays you on the bed, feet on the ground but your upper body sinks onto the mattress as he takes your calves into his hands, pulling on your shoes and throws them aside. "you need help to go to the bathroom, little miss?"

you nod as he toes his shoes off. your arms raise, hands grabbing at nothing as a silent plea to pull you up. joseph does do, struggling from your weight and how your body has slumped in all its inebriation.

worried that your legs might give halfway, he bends down to wrap his arms beneath your bum, and lifts you up to his chest. you instantly wrap your arms around his neck, digging your nose to the crevice that connects his shoulder and jawline.

"why're you carrying me?" you mumble, almost incoherent. joseph nudges the door to the bathroom open, sitting you down on the sink before he flips the switch open.

"because you're too drunk to walk, baby." he smiles patiently at you, opening the toilet lid. "now go potty. think you can do that?" you nod, rubbing your eye. joseph tuts, removing the finger from your eyelid and kissing it. "don't scratch. i'll take out your clothes and go pee, okay?"

it takes two minutes until you're back in your bedroom, drunkenly brushing your teeth in his guidance. joseph rid of his clothes, tossing it on the laundry bag before he helps you remove yours. it's tedious, the way he patiently instructs you to raise your arms so he can pull your shirt from your head, how he lets you remove your jeans yourself as he gets you a glass of water and comes back to you wearing the shirt he's supposed to wear.

he's setting the glass on the table on your side. you pull on his collar, urging him to sit in front of you cross-legged. and he does, coming up merely in a pair of sweatpants and shirtless, laughs at the way your drunk hands trace every ridge of his torso before you're leaning in to rest your head on his chest.

but you're not done — he's got pads in his thumb and index finger, and a bottle of makeup remover in the other hand. he carefully spurts the liquid out onto the pad, carefully takes your face in his hands and dabs the cotton on your eyes gently.

"had fun today? — oh, careful." he wraps a vacant hand on your arm to keep you steady, tittering that you almost fell asleep. you babble a small ‘yes’, tugging on the tie of his sweatpants. he watches as the dark kohl disappears into a smudged ebony tear, disappearing when he wipes it again. "bet you did. you're drunk out of your arse, baby."

"yeah, but you said you're on driving duty today," you slur, closing your eyes tightly as he rubs the alcohol across your eyelids. "can i have some water, please?"

he's throwing the cotton aside as joseph reaches beside you to take the glass in his hand, keeping it in place as both your hands come to cup around his and let the water cleanse all booze on your throat. "careful, baby. don't swallow quick."

by the time the glass has nothing but a smidge of water left, he puts it back where he's taken it. you whine irrationally, taking your face into his hands, squishing his cheeks together until he laughs.

"what's up dove, huh?" he chuckles.

"nothing," you shake your head too vigorously, leaning in close until the tip of your nose grazes his cheek, but never kissing him as you whisper. "marry me, joe."

his smile falls a little, and suddenly there's panic that makes his heart beat a little faster, taking a quick glance behind him where his coat hangs behind your door, looking directly at the pocket where he can see the faint indentation of the small box.

you frown when you drop your hands down to your lap, and he whips his head back at you. "aw, baby i'm sorry," he takes your hands and places it on his face again. "can you tell me what you said again?"

"marry me," you repeat. "i bought you a ring,"

he feels all the blood drain from his face, feeling it replaced by something that's an ocean of confusion. "what?"

"i bought one last week," you close your eyes. "although, i think i might have lost it."

joseph thinks how all the stress he's poured on to choosing the perfect ring must have been futile because here you were, drunkenly proposing without a ring. his doubts make him wonder if this was all a joke, until you started talking again.

"we were supposed to go back home," you murmur. "and i was supposed to drag you to your favorite spot your parents told me about. then i was going to propose."

joseph blushes. "yeah?"

"yeah," you sigh. "but i lost it. i don't know where it is and i-" you sniffle, joseph gasps silently at the tears that's starting to form. "i'm sorry, joey. i lost the ring."

you sob, loud as if you had been heartbroken. really, if he hadn't been so nice, he would have laughed because 1.) he still had the chance left to propose first and 2.) because drunk people crying was funny for him.

joseph takes you into his arms and shushes you, a hand to the back of your head and lets you cry onto his bare shoulder. "it's okay, baby. it's okay. i still love you."

you sniff. "even though i lost the ring?"

he leans back to kiss your forehead. "even though you lost the ring." he repeats. and had you not been drunk, he would have said yes.

reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3

[storiesofsvu]

Under Over Ch 6

Joe Velasco x reader Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, talks of angst type situations, talks of smutty situations.

The week following Joe’s check in with the squad was one full of no parties, which made things slightly unfortunate for him. He could do little bits and pieces of snooping during the week, which was nice, especially when the penthouse was empty when he was dropping things off, but he’d wanted to talk to you specifically. And he figured that a solo night in the house would be the optimal time for that, that you’d probably let your guard down. Hell he’d even whip out an old family recipe and cook from scratch if it meant finally discovering the real you. He was even more bummed when a text pinged from Amanda.

‘Hate to burst your bubble but that dinner really was just her out with friends. They didn’t seem the sex work type so either they’re really good at hiding it, or these were literally college friends who don’t know what she’s doing now. Better luck next time pretty boy.’

He scowled at the addition of her taunting the nick name you’d created for him, knowing that he’d likely never live it down with the squad now.

You on the other hand had been spending your week with Carly, and an actual week, not a week chaperoning poor ruby. You knew she was pretty green to the party circuit, but you knew that with the right training and guidance, after time, she could easily replace you. You didn’t have a good back up as of right now, a second in chain as it were, and you knew she trusted you, and was loyal to you. So you told Kayra to shove it and that she was going to get her own private room, that sapphire could be the third add on in another room since he hated her so much. You spent a day with Carly at the penthouse, deep cleaning out what would be her new bedroom, a couple of the boys helping with moving furniture. Then you went through her entire wardrobe, making her try on some of it before you tossed it into a keep or get rid of pile.

The next day was girl’s day, you headed out to shop and there was no holding back. You guided her through Sephora, suggesting make up and skin care that would help, certain body sprays or glitter that wouldn’t rub off on party guests or linger on their clothes for them to go home and get caught. There were a few stops at clothing stores as you pieced together the best kind of outerwear for parties, reminding her that layers were always her best friend, so she could be as covered or exposed as she wanted to. The last stop were a few lingerie boutiques where you picked out a large handful of sets for the both of you to gear up for the upcoming parties.

You spent the entire day gossiping, pumping her up and making sure that she felt welcomed and accepted into the house. You stopped in a cute bistro for lunch and the final stop was the classic girl’s day to get your nails done. Your conversation rerouted back to one of more appropriate one while you did this, simply talking about your pasts, your childhoods, the (now censored) experiences that brought you to where you were today.

You found out Carly was born and raised in Connecticut, having gone to college for fashion and design. Like many others, she moved out to the big apple to try and pursue a career in it, only to end up waitressing at two different bars and working in a coffee shop to just try and make ends meet. She barely had time to try and pursue the career she wanted and couldn’t afford an agent to get her designs out there without being known. A few industry folk said to just start going to go sees and open calls or modelling and try to get in that way, but she was practically laughed away because she was a solid three inches shorter than the runway required. You were quick to cut in it was clearly just a height thing cause she was one of the most stunning friends you had (and you didn’t miss the way she beamed at you calling her your friend). A bartender at one of her jobs mentioned that they knew a couple of strip clubs were looking for waitresses, and the tips would be much higher there. And that’s when Kayra found her and made her the promises that she’d been dying to hear for years. Whether he would actually be able to follow through on any of them was still up in the air.

*

Joe was in the kitchen of the penthouse, currently putting away what seemed like too big of a grocery order, but it was exactly what Kayra had asked for. The house had been relatively quiet all week, and today he was wondering if anyone was even staying here right now. On the off chance, he’d picked up a couple of extra things, on a separate bill, just in case he would set his plan into motion with you. Some were smaller spices, little pantry additions that no one would notice, and the rest he could easily sneak out of there if you happened to be out of town or something. He had honestly figured it was fine if he used the kitchen even for himself, doing a bit of the prep work for the meal even if he took it home. It could get a head start while he finished a couple of other tasks around the house.

He heard the elevator ping sounded by the sound of laughter, one that perked his ears right up as he realized it was you. He tried to blame the fact that his heart rate picked up on his work related plan, but he couldn’t really deny the truth at this point. He always looked forward to seeing you. He heard a bit of muffled conversation and the rustle of shopping bags before it disappeared down the hallway. A playlist began to echo through down the hall as you and Carly sorted through your things, after a few minutes the playlist slowly got louder as you were moving the speaker down the hall, laughter still apparent in your voices.

“I’m telling you!” You urged, “all it takes is one or two tricks to have them drooling their asses off.”

“I’m not sure…” Carly replied with a timid laugh.

“Oh come on! You’ve been wanting to learn pole for months now, I’ll take you to a class next week.”

“Okay, okay.” She surrendered with a laugh as the two of you rounded the bend into the kitchen, noticing the oven on and the smell of food wafting through the room, “who else is home?”

“Dunno.” You replied, crossing to the fridge and grabbing two seltzers from it, tossing one to her.

“Sorry!” Jose suddenly popped up around the corner, “figured I may as well multitask.” He stepped back into the room, tossing a screwdriver back into the tool box on one of the stools.

“You finished yet?” You asked

“Yeah.”

“Good.” You tossed him the seltzer in your hand, opening the fridge again, “then maybe you can help me convince Carly that there’s nothing wrong with a bit of drool during a blow job.”

“Y/n!” Carly nearly shrieked, her cheeks turning pink at your brashness, “it’s gross.”

“I…uh…” Jose stammered, distracting himself by cracking open the drink and taking a sip as you laughed, swinging the door shut.

“More drool means more deepthroating, and despite their pristine reputations, these sleazebags like mess.”

“Okay well what’s a good start with them then?” Carly asked, “maybe something not so gross.” You turned to Jose and raised a brow and gestured to one of the stools.

“Take a seat.”

“Uh, I’m not really sure that’s the best idea… professionally…” His eyes darted off to the side as he busied himself with a sip of his drink and you barked out a laugh.

“I’m not gonna suck you off pretty boy! You know we don’t work for free.” Shaking your head you gestured again, “sit.”

“Alright.” A small smile on his cheeks he slipped onto the stool, making himself comfortable.

“Carly, here’s the thing. The guys that come to these parties, they’re not the same as the shitty low life parties where they want some cheap whore to throw around.” You turned to Jose, a grin on your cheeks as you placed your drink down on the island, “these guys…they’re men in power all day long, they come here to get a release from that.” You stepped toward Jose, your hands landing on his knees, slowly sliding up his thighs, “some of them want to be challenged, some of them want you to take control.” You settled yourself between his legs, your hands continuing to slide up his torso, “tease ‘em a little bit…” your finger curled under his chin, tilting his head up and he swallowed hard. “Remind them who actually holds the power,” you weren’t entirely sure how you were managing this, being this close to him and keeping composed, you simply thanked your line of work as your nose nudged at his and his lips instinctively parted and you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist, “once you get the hook in, they’re not going anywhere…” Your lips were hovering above his and honestly, it was only Carly’s presence that was stopping you from closing the gap.

A sudden blare from her phone made everyone in the room jump, she was just as transfixed watching you as Jose was being your experiment. You stepped back from Jose, his arm falling from around your waist and you instantly missed the sensation, your cheeks heated, eyes darting anywhere but his as he quickly cleared his throat and adjusted, turning toward the island to pick up his drink, accidentally grabbing yours in a moment of flustered confusion. He muttered a quick sorry, passing you the drink and grabbing his own to take a large swig.

“That’s my ride.” Carly gestured with her phone toward the elevator.

“I’ll walk you out.” You nearly cut her off at your eagerness to escape the room for a moment.

Joe let out a soft sigh of relief, running his hands over his face before taking another swig of his drink. He was thankful for the break, but his ears still picked up on the hushed conversation between the two of you as you waited for the elevator.

“You really just went for it didn’t you?” Carly asked, pulling a soft chuckle from you.

“I was just showing you the best way to get customer satisfaction.”

“Yeah right, you’ve been talking about Jose all day!” She hissed back, “and he didn’t exactly shy away from that…you did say he was hot at lunch!”

“I said he was easier on the eyes than Quinn!” You shot back.

“You think he’s cute!”

“So what?”

“Have fun tonight.” He could hear the playfulness in Carly’s voice, the mock offended scoff from you as the elevator pinged.

“You know we don’t mix business and pleasure!”

“Whatever you say.” Another ding as she pressed the ground floor button and the elevator doors swooshed shut. He heard you let out a sigh before padding back down the hall.

A timer went off behind him and he was thankful for another distraction, pulling the pan of chicken out from the oven. Right before he’d ducked off to fix that leaky pipe he’d started on the second part of dinner and it was nearly finished too.

“So what are you making?” You asked, swiping your can of seltzer from the island as you sat on one of the stools facing him.

“So far just chicken and chile peppers. Was planning on assembling later.”

“Hmm.” You replied, resting your chin in your hand, elbow propped up on the island. “Smells delicious.”

“You want some?” He offered.

“I don’t want to steal your food.”

“You’re not.” He laughed softly, the smile reaching his eyes, “there’s more than enough to go around.”

“Shall I just sit here and watch you cook?”

“C’mere.” He gestured with a nod of his head and you felt your heart rate pick up, hand clutching around the can as you stood from the stool, moving around the island, “I can trust you to mince garlic, right?” He handed you the knife and a couple of cloves and you laughed.

“Yeah. I have been told I’m a whiz in the kitchen.”

“Good.” He smiled, “you guys have a blender?”

“Yeah.” You replied, crushing the cloves under the knife, “right hand cupboard.”

He followed your direction, pulling the appliance down and dumping the peppers that had been on the stove into it, along with a few other spices as you chopped up the garlic. You watched as he pulled out a frying pan, pouring a few inches of oil into it and placing it on the stove, there was no doubt in your mind that he knew his way around the kitchen. He started the blender, asking you to keep an eye on the pan as he pulled out some tortillas.

“Please tell me you have a cheese grater?”

“Yeah, in this one.” You replied, nodding your head to the cupboard you were in front of as you flipped over a tortilla. To your surprise instead of waiting for you to move Jose stepped closer to your back, caging you into the counter and you felt your breath catch in your throat, the scent of his cologne invading your senses as he dug through the cupboard before finding it.

You found it oddly comfortable being in the kitchen with him, little comments and laughs here and there as you relaxed, continuing to cook. Jose certainly did know more than you when it came to specialty dishes, showing you the proper, more authentic way to make enchiladas and you knew in that moment dinner was going to be amazing. You cleaned as you went as to not leave a mess, and constantly found yourselves reaching around each other to get what you needed and each time, there was a heating of cheeks, a wave of passion, and a slightly awkward laugh as you did so.  When dinner was plated you settled on the couch with a movie and drinks, eager to have a relaxing evening together instead of one glammed up and in work mode.

“Oh my god this is delicious!” You exclaimed over your first mouthful.

“Did you really doubt me that much?” He asked with a smirk on his lips and your free hand smacked his arm.

“No, I just didn’t expect it to be this good. I outta keep you around. How’d you feel about moving in and being the house’s personal chef?” You teased and he laughed, his attention returning to the television with a shake of the head. He certainly wasn’t going to touch on that quite yet.

Empty plates ended up on the coffee table as drinks got replenished, the mood in the room was much more of a personal one, if the circumstances were any different, it nearly felt like a second or third date. The first movie auto played into its sequel and your focus began to waver, paying more attention to each other, little comments about the movie morphing into actual conversation as you started to unravel the truths about who you both were.

“Where’d you learn to cook like that?” You asked, settling back into the couch with your drink.

“My mom. She did her best to hand down traditions.”

“Is she here?” You asked softly, “or back home?”

“I’m honestly not sure.” He sighed, “I just hope she’s safe wherever she is.” You reached out and squeezed at his arm.

“I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“Whatever kinda tragic backstory you come from.”

“What’d’you mean?” He raised a brow in your direction and you huffed a laugh, shifting so you were cross legged on the couch facing him.

“I’ve only ever heard about you talk about your mom when you talk about Mexico. And you’ve never mentioned how you came here. So I’m going out on a limb and say that it wasn’t exactly a walk in the park getting across the border, or that you were getting away from something. Then you get here and end up choosing to do a variety of security work, mainly with people. You feel the urge to protect people…either cause it’s what you do best or you feel like you couldn’t protect yourself back home?” You waited for a moment, glancing out the window to not pressure Jose into answering right away.

“What are you, a psychic?” Jose ducked his gaze from yours as he downed his drink. He wasn’t sure how you managed to figure him out so quickly, but you were right, and he wasn’t ashamed of it. He suddenly wanted to tell you everything, he trusted you, and wanted that to continue.

“It’s in my line of work,” you shrugged, “the faster I read someone’s words and body language, the faster I know what they want, and the more money I get.”

“I guess.” He replied with a small laugh and you reached out, squeezing at his arm. After taking another swig he spoke again, “so we’ve done me...” He turned to you with a smile, “what about you? Why are you so watchful over Carly?” He was slightly surprised when you let out a weary sigh, playing with your drink before you spoke.

“She reminds me of my sister…”

“What happened?” He asked softly.

“We…we were always super close. I had just graduated college; she was halfway done when my mom got sick. We spent every moment and dime we had trying to save her. After she passed, neither of us were making enough money. I know it’s weird to think of it like this, but we started working the same clubs, dancing, serving, whatever they would accept. Then I got picked up by a ring..”

“Kayra?” he asked softly, his hand squeezing at your arm and you shook your head.

“No, long before that. It was one of those low level party houses, my sister got in too, on my recommendation. Problem being the fucking cops busted the party…”

“She get arrested?”

“I wish.” You let out a little laugh, downing your drink, “when the cops broke in she was on a john’s lap. No one knew he was armed but the thought of going to jail freaked him out way too much. He threatened to slit her throat, some rookie took the shot and she was used as the shield…”

“Oh god… I’m so sorry…” his hand shifted to grip yours, giving it a squeeze as you finally glanced up, tears rimming your eyes,

“Thanks.” You let out a breath, “so… just keep Carly safe, okay?”

“I will. I promise.”

“Thank you.” You gave him a tight smile, then let out a small laugh, “wow…way for me to bring the mood down.”

“Nah, I asked.” He smiled, his hand gently dropping yours and you were surprised when his thumb brushed across your cheek, wiping away the tear that managed to escape. Your eyes shot up to his and your heart jumped in your chest as you simply held his gaze for a moment. For the second time tonight you were both completely mesmerized with one another, though this time had a completely different feeling than earlier.

Joe was honestly a little surprised with just how vulnerable and open you’d been with him, how drastically different this soft side of you was to the mask you put on during parties. Tonight felt the complete opposite than most of your previous interactions, it brought him back to that day in the park, the first time he’d caught a glimpse of the real you. He craved more, wanting to know absolutely everything about you, but more importantly, he didn’t want his hand to ever leave your skin. Your phone buzzed on the coffee table and you very reluctantly pulled away after a moment longer, shifting to pick it up before immediately tossing it back down with a small huff.

“Anything important?”

“No. Phone bill’s due.” You let out a little laugh, turning back to him as you picked up your drink, “alright, pineapple on pizza, yah or nah?”

“You seriously didn’t just ask me that.” He laughed, settling back into the couch with his arm across the back of it.

“Oh come on! It is not that bad!”

“You like Hawaiian pizza? Really?”

“Okay, so, truth time. I don’t actually like Hawaiian, but I’ll add pineapple instead of onions on a veggie pizza.”

“You’re a menace.” He teased with a grin and you laughed, “summer or winter?”

“Can I cheat and go fall?”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Winter’s a bitch, and mid July in the middle of New York? It’s a fucking sauna. Fall is like, calming. It’s just a little bit chillier, but still warm, still lots of sun, kids go back to school, the city calms down as it comes more alive, if that makes sense.”

“I’ll accept that answer.”

“What about you?”

“I’m partial to winter.”

“Why?”

“I think it’s cause it’s so different from when I was growing up. Reminds me that I got here in one piece.”

“When was the first time you saw snow?”

“I was twenty-one.” He laughed and you let out a little gasp, “what?”

“Were you robbed of the incredible experience of making snowmen and snow angels? Have you ever had a snowball fight?”

“I guess it’s a no to all of the above.”

“Okay well I am adding that to the winter bucket list.” You grinned and he felt his chest swell at the idea of you thinking so far down the road, of spending some holiday time with you. “Morning person or night owl?”

“Bit of both?” His brow furrowed, “depends on my schedule… I assume you’re a night owl?”

“It depends…” you replied with a small smile, “I mean, work keeps me up all hours of the night, but there’s something so serene about the mornings. A nice quiet jog with no one else around while the city hasn’t even woken up? Chef’s kiss. And it doesn’t hit the same when you’ve been up all night.” Jose laughed at that,

“No…first glimpse of sunlight and birds chirping just makes you feel guilty.”

“Exactly.” You laughed, your hand coming to tap at his arm.

“Dogs or cats?” He raised a brow.

“Dogs. No question.” You took a sip of your drink, “like, I’m fine if a friend has a cat, but there’s just something so comforting about dogs.”

“Agreed. If I had the money, space and time I would just adopt an entire shelter’s worth of animals.” He looked up to see you with a smirk on your cheeks, “what?”

“Nothing. You just really wanna make the world a better, safer place, and that’s… endearing…” He felt his cheeks heat, letting out a small chuckle and occupying himself with his drink, “you really are a great guy Jose…” he tried to unscramble the flustered panic going on in his brain as you let out a content sigh, placing your drink down on the coffee table and sinking back into the couch. Your head lightly hit his arm, but you didn’t shift to avoid it and he felt his heart continue to hammer in his chest.  “I forgot there was a third one of these.” You murmured and he glanced toward the television.

“Oh…yeah…”

He shifted slightly, turning his focus back towards the movie as you let out another little sigh, relaxing into the couch as you both got comfortable. He knew that there was a lot more ground to cover when it came to getting you to flip, especially since he was sure you wouldn’t trust him as much once you knew he was a cop. But for right now, you had unearthed a whole new level of confidence in each other and he was more than happy with that, knowing that you would probably trust him with one hell of a lot.

He found himself half paying attention to the movie, this one having undertones of romance, the other half of his brain imagining such a relationship with you. Your comments about the holiday season, the way your eyes lit up at the thought of it, there was no denying he wanted to experience that in real time, watch the way the lights glimmered in your eyes, the way the snow would catch on your eyelashes. He was so far deep into his fantasies he barely noticed the movie ending, letting out a little laugh and saying something to you about it. When you didn’t respond he glanced down, realizing you’d fallen asleep on his shoulder. He smiled at the intimacy and trust of the action, gently nudging you,

“Hey…sleeping beauty…” you grumbled, wincing as you pushed yourself up to sitting while rubbing at your eyes.

“Sorry.” You mumbled.

“No, hey, you had a long day.”

“I guess.” You laughed softly.

“I should get going.” He pushed up off the couch, collecting both your empty drinks to deposit in the kitchen. With a little groan as you stretched out your body, you collected your phone, following him.

“Thanks for dinner.” You smiled, leaning against the doorway and he turned to you with a smile.

“Anytime. I’ll leave the leftovers?”

“Awe, now you’re just spoiling.”

“Only for the best.”

He swiped his phone from the island, pocketing it along with his keys and the two of you made your way down the hallway, Jose pausing to press the elevator button as you moved past it.

“Get home safe. I’ll see you Friday?”

“Course.” He shot you a grin that you did your best not to blush at as you continued into your room, flicking on the light, turning back suddenly when he called out to you. “And y/n?”

“Yeah?” Your hand rested on the door frame, head leaning against it as you glanced towards him.

“To answer the first question you asked me today… yes.. more drool is better.” He winked as you barked out a laugh, your hands coming up to cover your mouth and you knew your cheeks were heated at the callback. He simply gave you a wave as the elevator doors slid open and he stepped into it, leaving you with a million scenarios swirling in your brain as you started to get ready for bed.

____________________________________________

@witches-unruly-heart @fandom-princess-forevermore @cycat4077 @xoxabs88xox @alwaysachorusgirl @teamsladsandgents @thatesqcrush @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @wandas-wife @katieslotherford @momlifebehard @dondivajade

[bubblyani]

Bail Out : 01

(Bruce Wayne x Reader)

A Bruce Wayne Multi-Chapter Series

Chapter 01: The Bruiser

Summary: One fateful, drunken night gets you arrested for assault. However, once you get bailed out by Billionaire Socialite Bruce Wayne, surprising obstacles get in the way, forcing you to question all your choices in life, career, and in love. 

Word Count: 4700

Rating: Mature

Warning: Swearing and Hints of Blood and Violence

Author’s Note: Initially wanted to write a One Shot, but had more ideas to possibly expand. And thanks to @kittenlittle24​ ‘s encouragement, I was confident to continue this as a Series. This was soo much fun to imagine and write. It really was. Will do my best to make this a series you all can love. Enjoy!

Gotham City, never was it a fanatic of resting, especially when it came to crime. “Anyone out for a coffee run?” 


Thus, it was suffice to say the Law Enforcement of the City was never privileged with the gift of resting either. Even during the wee hours of the morning. Crime was detained, ranging from the highest risk to the mundane. Regardless, they were all crimes. 
 “...Anyone?”
 Officer John Blake of Gotham Police repeated his inquiry, scanning the other officers in the precinct. Buzzing like bees, all seemed quite occupied in their own matters. 
 “I’ll do it…” Officer Nina Langdon got up from her desk, answering with a smile. The way her pupils dilated, her secret attraction for the other young officer was quite evident. 
 Finally catching a whiff of enthusiasm, John’s eyes glinted with a hint of sincere gratitude. Standing next to him, Langdon began her query at everyone: “How about a new place today?”

The buzz, it continued. No one really seemed to bother with an answer.

“Try Commons Cafe! They have great coffee for an affordable price!”

Suddenly the buzz seemed nonexistent, when everyone’s heads indiscriminately turned upon hearing a voice. A female voice which was unfamiliar, yet professional. And to their surprise, it was traced all the way back to the nearest holding cell.

Taking a gander at their expression, the owner of that voice seemed unaffected. 
“You’re welcome…” She added coolly, returning her gaze back to the wall before her. Highly amused, Officer Blake chuckled. Deeply curious, Officer Langdon leaned over to Blake.
 “What is she in for?” She asked in a low voice. “Assault…” John answered, opening the file that rested on his neatly arranged desk. His answer certainly made the red headed officer raise her eyebrows. 
“Anything serious?” She was certainly inquisitive. He shook his head. 
“Nah…” he replied,  “Just a rough night, I guess” he added, turning back to the woman sitting in the cell.

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

It was never intentional, but you just could not help overhear their discussion. And Officer Blake was right: Last night was indeed a very rough night. 


Trying to catch a wink of sleep in the cell seemed impossible for you. For you were not at comfort. Let there be no misunderstanding, for the environment was not to blame at all. You scoffed to yourself.You were no princess, seeking any luxury. It was just that your damned humbleness got in the way with the most mediocre excuses. Like, your tight skirt riding up every time you made an attempt to lie down, for instance. You did not want to make a scene by showing any unwanted skin.

That’s right. That damned humbleness.

And the throbbing pain in your right hand did not seem to help either.

Yes, your right hand with your knuckles, all bruised and bloody.

Sleep deprived, and slightly wounded, your body was in a state of confusion. You literally felt your eye lids grow heavy, as if your eyelashes held on to weighty dumbbells in the gym, and they kept doing down. Squinting your eyes, you made your most dire attempt to stay awake. You resorted to methods a many. Pinching your own cheeks, slapping them with no shame. All until you were sober once more. You sat there, with your legs bouncing about as you stared at the wall. 


Every other corner in the station seemed to have a dose of color. Even it was dull or depressing. The wall on the other hand, was white, was empty.
 Thus, it was no surprise that you picked up a brush, and proceeded to paint out the scene over that white wall of your mind.The scene that haunted you on a constant loop, all throughout the night. 


For everything was ever so clear.

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

(Last night)


With single stroke of your mind brush, the white canvas of the wall altered into the surroundings of a luxurious hotel.


A jazz melody, simple yet effective. It lingered in the piano keys, amplifying its effect on to every living being in the area. The musical sounds infused with the subtle shushes of the small water fountain placed in the midst of the restaurant. Occupants of class and formal attire were of abundance, out to play on a Friday night. 


And in the bar lounge in the corner, there was you, sitting on one of the barstools with your phone pressed against your ear. It was no call, as you listened to a voice message. The manner in which your eyes were closed, in which your temples had tightened, it was evident to any observer that you were listening to what you dreaded.

“Sorry sweetie!” The voice of Allison, your roommate flowed into your ear: “ I forgot that Mattie was having a Birthday bash for his friend, so I promised to help out with the party blah blah blah...you know the deal…But anyways, I can’t make it for drinks tonight. I’m so so sorry, roomie! Please enjoy yourself! And hey! who knows! Maybe you’ll get to work on ya flirtin’ tonight. Sorry again…Bye!” 
 As the message ended, a scoff was all you could let out. “Trust me…” You muttered to yourself, looking at the phone, “Flirtin’s the last thing on my mind tonight”.

With one hand lifted up, you turned your gaze over to the bartender nearby. Your empty cocktail glass appearing so lonely beside you.  

“Whiskey, please” You requested, lips forming a sad smile.Taking the glass away, bartender nodded with a hint of concern. 


You sighed heavily, before taking a sip from your glass. Work had certainly drained you. It drained you like an insect being drained lifeless by a spider. With eyebrows raised, you slightly shook your head at yourself. That was an inaccurate comparison for that may not be an exact fact. Yet, it was how you felt: Drained lifeless. And here you presumed blowing off steam with your roommate would help you cheer up. But truthfully, that was not the case. It was not what you wanted in the end of the day. Drowning one’s exhaustion in a splash dip of alcohol seemed apt. At least, you’ll drop dead on your bed without hesitation. You will sleep faster. And waste the weekend away. 


As the effect of the hard liquor began to spread all over your system, you felt compelled to take off your high ponytail. You were desired by your own conscience to let your natural tresses rest easy on your head. 


“Oh! Save me the High Road Bullshit! You’re just like the rest of them SCUM!”

A voice, quite enraged reached out to your ears from afar. It cut through all the superficial chatter a few feet in between. Given the tone, You involuntary rolled your eyes.

“Someone’s not having the best day, huh?” You said to the bartender. “Yeah…looks like it” the man replied, whilst wiping the table. Sipping the whiskey, you resumed in indulging on the burning sensation you felt on your tongue.

Yet, regardless of your attempt to steer your ears away, the awkwardness could not be avoided. Especially when someone had the decency to have a tantrum on these marbled floors.
 “Name one good thing Wayne Enterprises have ever done to the people of Gotham.Can anyone name ONE THING? I DON’T THINK SO…”

Now, you had to look up. Why on earth would he say something of the sort? Head unturned yet up, you paid close attention to the voice from the distance. Glancing upon the bartender’s expression, it was certain your face did not look happy at all. What was the other’s reply? You longed to hear it.But it was too soft. 
 “That’s right! It’s nothing but a HEARTLESS company with HEARTLESS people in it” Your eyebrows furrowed, tightly. This person certainly had the nerve. As much as this slowly turned your stomach, you silently convinced yourself it was not your place to interfere, nor to even be affected. 
“You know what?” The man continued loudly, “It’s a darn shame Joe Chill didn’t finish the job…He should have gotten rid of the entire Wayne family”

A loud thud! erupted from your fists as they landed on the table with such force. So much so, even the bartender clutched on to his wiping cloth with fear. “That’s it…” You muttered through gritted teeth. Gulping down the rest of your whiskey, you decided this was definitely your place to be affected. 
 “Yes! That’s right.” The man began to mock, “Thomas, Martha....and little Bruce Way-”
 “YOU!” Silence suddenly fell over the entire floor by the power of your voice. Even the piano stopped. Turning from your barstool, You heard yourself bellow: “You Take that BACK!!!”

Fueled with rage, you knew it was definitely your place to interfere.

Sliding off the stool, you quickly spotted him. The middle aged man was quite easy to make out by the fountain, due to his dramatic expression of embarrassment. All eyes were on you as your heels clicked sharply walking over to him in speed. He was the only one you could spot among the two conversing parties, and that was enough for you. Frankly you did not care. Though you were at your fullest rage, weaponized with clenched fists, the man looked at you with mere inferiority.

“Don’t you DARE say things like that!”

You yelled, pointing your index finger at him. The man laughed mockingly, which amplified heavily with all the dense fog of silence.

“Why?” He asked, “What are you gonna do?” He jeered, “Threaten m-OW!”

Gasps exited everyone’s lips in unison. Right when you cut him off with your right fist landing hard on his face. The punch was far from skilled, yet it managed to spill some blood, it was difficult to trace its origin. You felt pain, that was for sure. 
 “You take that back! I mean it” You spat out those words, which were akin to fire. Eyes squinting, the man scrunched up his bloody nose. 
 “Wha-? OWW!!”

This time it was your right knee that made an appearance. Greeting his nose violently with a kick, your knee brought out a popping sound, causing the others to gasp and scream in fear.

“ARGH! MY NOSE!” He cried out with agony. 
 “SECURITY!” 
The cries of the Floor Manager finally brought you to the realization of the surprising consequences of your pure rage. Lifting your hands up quickly with a sigh, you surrendered yourself as the security staff surrounded you. The bystanders watched you with disbelief. Some with mixed emotions, while others purely had taken a side in this altercation. The Security found it strange when you voluntarily placed the hands behind your back for their convenience. For you were no fool. You were screwed.

“Gentleman! Gentleman! Let’s take it easy on the lady, shall we?”

A voice so smooth and undeniably familiar tickled your ears. Turning back, you gasped. For you finally laid eyes on the other party. The man who was insulted. The man you involuntarily fought for:

Bruce Wayne, in the flesh. 
 With a tall, beautiful blonde woman wrapped around him, he was as powerful as he could be. Besides, the beautiful couple exuded pure regality. And that was when you felt completely underdressed. Why wouldn’t you be? Your silk shirt, tucked in your high waisted skirt paired with a jacket made you look so meager. While the blonde woman gave you a nasty look, Wayne seemed quite concerned in contrast. Embarrassment finally came over you when you were aware of the fact he just witnessed your rage. And how he was witnessing your messy state, which included the literal blood and sweat and disheveled hair. 
“I’m truly sorry, Mr.Wayne” The manager said, “…but our restaurant doesn’t tolerate violence” You were so tempted to scoff. And you did, out loud. “Wow! wow!” You cried out with irony, turning to the manager in your handcuffs, “So violence is not tolerated, but verbal abuse is?…” you inquired, motioning to the deserving bleeding man, “Unbelievable!”

“Security! Please escort her out!” The manager was certainly not pleased with your behavior nor your tone. 
“YES! Get that woman out of here!” The rude man cried out, still covering his nose, “I’ll do you one better…I’m…I’m calling the police” he said, taking his phone out from his pocket.

You shook your head with disappointment, still feeling the alcohol linger in you as you were easily pushed out of the premises. Averting your eyes, you were relieved to leave. For you did not want to be in the midst of everyone’s judgment, most certainly his.

You heard the soothing words of the management comfort the customers in muffled tone as your footsteps got closer to the exit.

“What the hell happened, miss?” The big, tall security officer inquired with genuine curiosity. As if he felt guilty of apprehending you, “Why would you get so riled up about Wayne Enterprises anyways ?”
 Sighing heavily, you looked over to him.

“It’s because I work there...” 


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

(Present)


Completing the imaginary painting for the 20th time, you finally looked down. The right side of your skirt was stained with dried up blood. Your knuckles shared the resemblance, except there were cuts as an addition. And holy hell! The stinging was unbearable. You were no fighter. You just experimented fighting in the wrong place, in the wrong time.

Rubbing the top of your nose bridge with your fingers, you sighed. So many sighs today. “Why…why did I do that?” You muttered to yourself. You were never the troublemaker, nor the violent one, so why now? You hoped your convincing voice message would lead to your roommate getting you out. But the way you were ditched tonight, there was no possibility. It seemed quite apt you were to be left there to rot, to regret your actions.

But never did you think you were actually fighting on behalf of Bruce Wayne himself. What were the chances?

The jingle of keys grew prominently louder, amidst the chatter of policemen and civilians. You looked up to see Officer Blake in front of your cell. “Good News…” He said, “Looks like you’ve been granted bail”

Your eyes widened with disbelief. How was it possible? You were only given one phone call. Standing up in an instant, you held on to the bars with your left hand dramatically. “R-Really?” You babbled, “But who?”

The young officer smiled softly. “Best if you see it for yourself” he said, opening the door, “He is waiting outside” 
“H-He?”   You swore you breathed in literal fear, forgetting to even step out.

As you went through the formalities, you could not help but wonder. Could it be that wretched man you injured, had come to rub his power all over your face? Were you to be eternally grateful to him? Feeling sick to your stomach once again, you took slow steps towards the exit, unwilling to see the light of dawn.
 “Ahh! Shit…” You cursed under your breath upon the first glance. It was not that wretched man. It was someone even worse. It was Bruce Wayne.

Taking a deep breath, you looked over at Blake. “Officer…” you began, “Do you have a mint by any chance?”

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

Nothing would strike you as strange more than the fact you saw Billionaire Playboy Bruce Wayne standing outside of a Police Station at around 6:30 am. And to bail you out nonetheless. Why? Was it something you should be worried about? You did not know.

For a second, you could not help but stare, especially when he was not aware of your eyes on him. He may have been wearing the same outfit as last night, yet he looked so different. With his tie loosened, hair a tad bit messy and out of sorts, he dipped his hands in his pockets whilst leaning against a black Lamborghini. As much as his sight seemed appealing and lovely on the eyes, it also worried you.

He straightened himself to attention the moment he saw you walk over to him. In the early morning, there was no one else by the pavement to cause a scene. Only the two of you. So finally came the big question: How were you even going to start a conversation with someone like him?

“Firstly,” you began, clearing your throat, “ I have to ask…” He looked at you with curiosity, as you took a deep breath:

“Was your date the Prima Ballerina of the Moscow Ballet?” You asked genuinely.

Bruce chuckled loudly, evident that it was the most unexpected question. But truthfully, it was something that kept you up all night.

He nodded, “Yes”

As much as you were happy to have guessed right, you were even more mortified. You were indeed the villain in the piece. “Oh my goodness,” you exclaimed, “I’m so sorry for ruining your date, Mr.Wayne…”

“Heh…Don’t worry about it” You could not help but realize the gentle nature of his voice. Gentle to the point it could graze over flower petals without causing any harm. But you knew you did not deserve that. Calming down, you averted your gaze down.

“You really didn’t have to do this…”you said, looking around shyly, “Bail me out…I’m sure that awful man-” “Mr.Henderson-” Bruce pointed out. “Right…Mr.Henderson…”you corrected yourself,  “…won’t stop with just getting me arrested…” “Actually, he’s planning to press charges” “What?” Your jaw dropped, “Oh for the love of-” Covering your face with your left palm, you sighed hopelessly. “I’m sorry…” you said, looking up, “This is not professional of me at all. I…” you paused, “I just had a rough night” you admitted with honesty. Instead of driving you deeper with guilt, he just stood there with very little expression on his face. As if to let you recover from your own mess.

“Get in…” He said, a few seconds later as he motioned towards his car. Your eyes widened. “Oh…No! It’s fine, Mr.Wayne, I can get a taxi-”
“I insist…please!” He said, voice still gentle, “You did punch someone in the name of Wayne Enterprises…” he added with a touch of humor.

Finally giving into a chuckle, you nodded in admittance before getting in.

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

You may not have known much about cars, but you certainly knew this one was quite the machine all men would die for. Would not be so surprising to find out the magnetic attraction it possesses. A symbol of power, for sure. 
 Following the first silent minute, you already as if you were robbing of his kindness. As much as the company of a handsome gentleman made you happy, a feeling of guilt was strong enough to conquer all.  

“You know…” you began, “…you can just drop me off at the nearest bus station Mr.Wayne, you’re being too kind” You said with concern. “That won’t be necessary…” Bruce replied, his eyes still on the road as he drove, “Your address is already in the navigator” He said, with his hands on the wheel, motioning to the system screen. You chuckled. Of course, he must have pulled the file on you.

“As someone from HR …I have to say that is a major breach in Employee Privacy” you said, looking ahead whilst attempting to suppress a smile.

“Perks of being the Owner I guess…I suppose you can understand…” Bruce replied, confidence brimming, “And really? You work in HR?” He asked teasingly, “I certainly did not know that…” You laughed instantly. “Now I know you’re lying” “Well…It’s good to know we have a bruiser in HR-” “Oh no…” You cried out frustratingly, “Stop! I beg of you…As if it’s not embarrassing already to be bailed by the owner of the company…” You said, covering your face, “Ow!” You cried out. You seemed to be so accustomed to him, that you were not even aware of your bruised hand, “No…It’s fine…” you said in an instant the moment Bruce looked at your hand with concern. The way he glanced upon you, his silence compelled you to guiltily take off the tissue paper you had used to hide your knuckles. Opening it up, you bit your lip as it stung in contact with the morning chill. “No, it’s not fine…” Bruce said sternly, “...here” And to your surprise, he somehow managed to magically find a place to quickly stop the car.

Oh! Billionaires.

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

Surprises did not cease to exist so soon.

You sat there dumbfounded on the passenger seat, as you watched Bruce Wayne medically treat your right hand. His hands were articulate, cleaning out and disinfecting the skin, before smoothly applying a cooling cream over the bruises on each knuckle. He did it with such focus, you were nothing but entranced by the mere sight. And before you knew it, your hand looked like it was alive once again.

“You’re awfully good at this…” You remarked, watching him wrap a small bandage around your knuckles. The pain in your right hand deprived you the chance to identify and secretly indulge his touch. “Why, thank you…” He answered with a teasing smug. “But that definitely arouses suspicion” You had to respond, smirking with mischief. “Well..You’re awfully observant” He smirked back, as he pulled away. “It’s my job, Mr.Wayne…” You said, watching him put his hands on the wheel,“I’m a Manager in HR. I need to know the staff” you added, leaning back on your seat, “We need to know what they want. What they don’t want, like and dislike”

The car began to growl softly with the start of the engine, and it was on the road once more. With the bandage securely placed, you could move your hand freely again.

“I don’t understand…” Bruce suddenly began, “You seem like a very sensible person…” he continued, “What could possibly drive you to punch a man right in his face?” “I admit…” you began with a deep breath, “It was quite an overreaction…” as the recollection revisited you, “But...I had my reasons…” You spoke with such freedom. “Which are…?” “Mr. Wayne...” you said, as a sudden rush of confidence wore you like a suit, “I’ve been working in Wayne Enterprises for almost 10 years” you looked at him, nodding as his eyes grew wide, “I got my first job here, and I have been working here ever since. I grew up in so many ways thanks to this company. And I know how many people have benefited from it, just like me.”

Tilting your head, your eyes squinted looking forward, “Sure, the management had a bumpy road with Mr. Earle. But…” you paused, with a chuckle, “ I guess I’m too loyal to leave. Besides, with you finally getting ownership, and Mr. Fox being CEO, I’m liking the direction this company is heading…” You said with a smile, “But…loyalty and alcohol… does not go well together, I realized” you admitted, keeping one’s fingers on your chin.

Bruce chuckled. You felt proud to humor him. However, a part of you suddenly wondered if this honesty of yours was going to cause any judgement in him. “Please know that as a professional, I do not condone my actions…” You stressed out. “But...personally…?” “No regrets whatsoever…” You answered immediately,  “That gentleman had it coming…”. Gasping, you covered your mouth, “Wow!…” you giggled, “I’m being too forthcoming now, aren’t I?”

“Looks like it…” With a smirk, Bruce looked at you. For a split second, you could relate this to two old friends, sharing a naughty secret. Who knew that Bruce Wayne was just like any other man you knew, except with a bit of specialty blessed in him.

Yet, still you looked at him pleadingly. “Forgive me…Oh!” You exclaimed, the moment you realized the surroundings suddenly grew familiar. The Lamborghini was already in your neighborhood. Finding a space to his luck, he finally parked. Before unbuckling the seatbelt, you savored the moment. Turning to him, you looked at him for a few seconds. Noticing your stare, his eyebrows were raised:

“Are you by chance, doing your job?” He asked teasingly, looking your way, “Being observant?” 
 Taking a whiff of his cologne was unintentional, yet necessary.

“No…” You answered, shaking your head, “Just…taking one last look at you. Just...imprinting the image in my memory, as you might call it…” you chuckled, moving your hands over your head, “I’m sorry but…It’s very rare for people like me to even meet Bruce Wayne in person.” You added, “And it’s highly unlikely that I will ever see you again”.

Opening his mouth, Bruce produced no sound. And just like that, he quickly closed it. You smiled, lightly bowing your head with respect. Why you did it, you did not know.

“Thank You, Mr.Wayne…” you began, “...for everything” you added, showing your hand.

The very moment you got out of the car, and walked around to reach the pavement, a pang of unhappiness came over you. A sense of chill suddenly pushed the sense of warmth away. You did not know why exactly.  

But you froze, as Bruce Wayne suddenly called out your name with formality. Turning back to face him, you were more than eager: “Yes?” With the window fully open, he put his head out to take another look at you. Possibly a few years older than you, he certainly was handsome with the morning light shining over him, you realized. “Never underestimate the power of probability…” He said. You folded your arms, suppressing a smile. “You’ll have to be more specific” you replied. He smiled back softly. “We will see each other again…” He said, with confidence. Your arms loosened upon hearing it, and that swell of unhappiness, that chill suddenly disappeared into thin air. Leaving enough room for the warmth to creep back in. This time, the warmth was strong enough to glaze your heart.

Still smiling, Bruce gave a small wave. “You take care now” he said, to which you nodded.   “I will…Thank You” You said, watching the Lamborghini slowly take off. Your eyes followed it until the sight of it grew small to the size of a pea. Moving your head, you quickly spotted the figure of Allison walking down the street towards you, with a dropped jaw. Relieved to see her without any hangover, you smiled at her. 
 “Was that Bruce Wayne?” Allison asked, pointing at the now non-visible car, “THE BRUCE WAYNE?” She squealed. “Yep…” “Damn! He looks good.” She said deliciously, only to gasp soon after, “Wait! Did he bail you out?” Her face grew concerned seeing your nod, “Oh sweetie…You know I would have bailed you If I had money…I know you’re probably mad at me right now but-”

Where her rambling apology went, you did not know, and did not care. For you were too deep in your own thoughts. That warmth which glazed your heart. You have only felt it a few times before. Recalling the times, was when you finally realized the unthinkable.

“Fuck!” You breathed. Allison looked at you with shock, “Excuse me?” “FUCK!” Exclaiming louder, you groaned out with frustration. With your buttocks finally resting on the front steps of your apartment building, you groaned louder. “Shhhhhh!“ Your outright cursing had attracted the attention of a displeased nun, as she passed you by.   “I’m sorry...” Your apology to her was muffled, through your hands over your face. The roommate sat next to you with a worried look. She smelled of perfume and cigarettes.

“Sweetie…” she began, "You gotta tell me what’s going on! You’re freakin’ me out!” She said in a low tone, yet her concern was evident.

“I’m not...” you paused, taking your hands away, “I’m not mad at you…” you said calmly, looking forward “...if that’s what you’re worried about…” You added, “It’s just that…” you sighed, “I’m pretty sure I may have to quit my job…”

Eyes widening, Allison clutched her chest dramatically. “WHAT? But WHY?” “Because....” linking your hands together, you exhaled deeply before turning to her: “I think… I like Bruce Wayne...”

——————————————————

Is your curiousity stirred? Chapter 2 HERE

Tagged: @tealaquinn​​​​ @ladyerina​​​ @kittenlittle24 @1-800-epiphany​

Lemme know if you wanna get tagged.

Check My MASTERLIST for More :)

[doing-all-write]

you’re out

Pairing: Joe Mazzello x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your favorite past time is roasting Joe about how much the Yankees suck. So, when you go to a Yankees game with him and make a bet about whether they’ll win or not, you can’t help but hope that maybe, just maybe, they’ll win so Joe can do whatever he wants to you. 

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: SMUT (don’t interact if you’re under 18 please!), swearing, mentions of alcohol, continuous talk of how much the Yankees suck (they do, I’m sorry, I don’t make the rules!!!!). 

A/N: Hello, hi, hey, anyone else bummed there isn’t any baseball to watch?? No?? Just me?? Alright, well, have soft, baseball loving Joe to fill the void in your heart. (and once again, thank you to @diasimar​, @fairestkillerqueenofall​ and @mrhoemazzello​ for their contributions and for being in horny/yearning hell with me all day every day)

💖As always, likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💖

"NO!" 

"HA! See, that's why the Sox are the best team in the league right now and the Yankees, well, the Yankees, they suck." She took a long pull of beer as Joe’s string of curses were muffled by the material of his Yankees cap.   

Slapping him on the back, she raised her hand to get the bartenders attention. Her friend, Dylan, nodded back and slid two tequila shots down the bar toward them, not even bothering to hide their laughter at Joe, who had fully slumped over the bar and was letting his forehead bounce lightly against the wood. 

Pushing one liquid gold shot toward Joe, she pulled her own closer, watching a droplet of water fall over the edge of the lime's rind into the glass.

"C'mon Mazzello. Buck up. It's just the Yankees fifth loss of the season. Which means they’ve secured their status as the most suck-tastic team in the MLB." Smirking, she threw her shot back, quickly bringing the lime to her mouth and biting down on soft flesh, the sting of acidity biting back as she licked her lips, making sure she got every bit of salt from them. 

Watching (Y/N) lick her lips was the only thing that was enough to make Joe stop feeling sorry for himself and start feeling a different emotion. 

"Can't you have some sympathy for a mourning man? I'm dying over here. I'm slowly being killed by the thing I love most." He wasn't quite sure if he was referring to the Yankees or the more than friends feelings that he'd had for (Y/N) since the moment he’d met her. 

And her boyfriend. 

But the boyfriend was out of the picture (She'd swanned into his apartment one day, already monologuing, "So, I dumped Mitch. He told me once we got 'serious', my career would need to take a back seat so I left him, and our relationship, in the back seat of the Uber we were in.") and Joe felt like he needed to take his chance before someone else came into the picture. 

Laughing, she reached her hand up to the Sox cap she wore, twisting it around so the brim was facing towards the back.  

Joe almost choked at the action.  

"Joe, if you don't take that shot right now I'm calling the cops because I'm pretty sure that's alcohol abuse to leave a perfectly good free shot sitting in front of you." Dylan raised an eyebrow as they finished wiping down the last glass they had pulled from the crate they'd brought from the kitchen.

Ripping his gaze from (Y/N)'s form, he hurriedly threw it back, scrunching his face up in an exaggerated fashion as the burn of the alcohol streaked down his throat and warmed his stomach. Popping the whole lime slice in his mouth he heard her laugh,

"Joe! God, how many times do I have to tell you that you don't have to put the whole lime in your mouth?" 

"When you stop laughing every time I do it." He admitted as he delicately placed the mangled husk of said lime on his napkin. Dylan shuddered as they touched the very edge of Joe's napkin to let it fall into the trash can behind the bar.  

Shaking her head, she swiveled in her chair to face Joe, "So. I have a proposition." 

Please let it be that she things we should be together forever and get married. Or that she proposition me for sex. Either one. 

"You know how I scored those tickets to the Yankee's/Sox's game for next week?" 

Shaking himself from the imagery of shoving a piece of wedding cake in (Y/N)'s face, Joe nodded, taking another gulp of beer. 

"Well....since you're my best friend who I love dearly," she placed a hand on his thigh, smiling, and Joe knew he would do whatever she wanted. 

"I was thinking we could make it extra interesting." Her heart was racing at just the small action she had accomplished. Feeling Joe's thigh muscle tighten as she laid her hand on it made something deep in the pit of her stomach tighten as well.

Since she'd broken up with Mitch it freed her up to do things she'd always wanted to do. To focus on her career, her friendships, herself and on the fact that she wanted her best friend, Joe Mazzello, to absolutely wreck her in the bedroom. 

The first time she'd envisioned it, she'd almost drained the new pair of batteries she'd put in her vibrator and since then she'd been falling without a parachute. The only thing that kept her from ripping the cord was the fact he was her best friend. They spent all their time together, what if it went wrong? It was a silly fear, she knew if anything were to happen they’d work through it like they always did, but it still bugged her that something so trivial was stopping her from potentially jumping into the best relationship she'd ever had. 

Besides, she'd do anything for Joe and she knew he’d do anything for her. They'd picked each other up from the airport, taken care of each other when they were sick or hungover and once Joe had plant sitted for her. 

(The key word there being once. She'd come back to all of them dead. "Joe...they're succulents. How do you kill those?")

She was nervous the fantasies she'd cooked up in her head would never live up to the reality that was in front of her, but recently she'd noticed little things that were starting to embolden her. 

Lingering gazes, holding on for a second too long during hugs. Once, it had been late, and they'd pulled apart from a hug only for their eyes to lock. Her breath caught as the thought oh god it's actually happening flitted through her mind, but Joe just gave her a gentle nudge toward the door urging her to get into bed as soon as possible. 

But, she was nervous that she was reading too much into these signs. 

If (Y/N) had been able to read minds she would have been very confused to see Gwil in his "I Want To Break Free" get up but it was Joe's surefire way to get rid of an erection and with (Y/N)'s hand so close on his thigh, he knew he needed to do something desperate to settle himself down.

Bringing herself back to the feel of Joe's thigh under her hand, she peered up at him through her eyelashes and shot him a smile, "I think we should place a bet." 

"A bet?"

"Yes, Joseph. A wager. On this ball game."

"Alright, what are the terms?" Joe leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the way the sleeves of his t-shirt stretched against his biceps. She swore he bought his shirts a size too small just to fuck with her. 

"Well, if the Yankees lose, which they will because they suck," Joe made an indignant noise in the back of his throat, "then you have to do anything I want."

Joe's eyebrows almost shot into his hairline, "And if the Sox’s lose? Which they will," he declared pointing a finger in (Y/N)'s face, causing her to lean back in her chair, batting his finger out of her face, "then you have to do anything I want." Crossing his arms behind his head he settled back into his chair, smug smile firmly planted. 

"It's so on, Mazzello." She declared as she stuck her hand out for him to shake. As his hand slid into hers, she could have sworn they both held on for a beat longer than was absolutely necessary. 

~~~

In (Y/N)'s opinion it wasn't really summer till she went to a baseball game. The artificial green of the grass, the sun shining down, the crack of a baseball hitting a bat. There wasn't a scent more intoxicating than that of popcorn, hot dogs and cheap beer. 

Which was probably why Joe had sent some serious side eye her way as she filled her lungs and drank in the scene before her, settling into their seats, hands clasped around flimsy plastic cups filled with overpriced alcohol.  

"What? You don't love the smell of a ball game?" she shot him an incredulous look.

"No, I do. But I don't try to inhale the whole stadium through my nostrils." 

Reaching a hand around she knocked his Yankees hat off his head, laughing as he scrambled to pick it up and jam it back on his head. Turning, she saw he had his best scowl prepped as he glared at her, 

"How dare you try to knock the best good luck charm the Yankees have off my head?" 

"Because I need my bathroom cleaned and I want you to do it." she shrugged as she took a sip of what was mostly foam. Gotta love baseball beer.

"I can't even be that mad at you because you did bring me to a baseball game that my team is going to whoop your teams ass in so, thanks, (Y/N)." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, bringing her into his side as she leaned a head against him, smiling and wanting to  stay in that position for as long as possible. 

"Oh, you two are just the cutest couple! Reminds me of myself and Harold at our first baseball game." 

Both their heads turned in perfect unison to look at the form of a woman cautiously making her way down the stairs, cane in one hand, her grandson holding her other arm and mouthing I'm sorry at them over her head.  

Laughing self-consciously, (Y/N) started to disentangle herself from Joe's embrace, "Oh. Ah. That's really not-"

"Thank you ma'am, that's really sweet of you. Were you and Harold married a long time?" Joe interjected, keeping his arm firmly wrapped around (Y/N)'s shoulders.

Stopping in the middle of the aisle, the woman’s eyes grew soft, "Oh yes. We were friends for the longest time until finally one day he kissed me on the cheek. I remember I turned to him as he turned bright red and looked ready to melt into the floor. But I just told him 'It's about damn time!' And planted one on him myself." She laughed at the memory as her grandson rolled his eyes,

"C'mon Grandma. Let's get to our seats. The first pitch is gonna be thrown soon." 

Waving goodbye, they watched the woman toddle down the stairs. Lifting one thigh and then the other, (Y/N) felt her skin unstick and prayed to god she wouldn't have butt sweat once this thing was over. 

"That's cute. But also it sounds like she was a huge hussy back in her day." 

Snorting, she slapped Joe in the chest, "Really, Joey? You're going to call a sweet old lady a hussy for sharing a cute story about her and her husband?" 

"I'm just calling 'em like I see 'em!"

"And that old woman is a hussy?"

"She's the one throwing herself at men!" Joe protested as he tried to hold back his laughter. Soon, they both were laughing so hard no noise was coming out, just their whole bodies shaking with mirth.  

"Okay, okay...oh my god. I will give her credit, that's a very sweet story." (Y/N) admitted as she leaned back in her seat, adjusting her own lucky Sox hat.

"It is. I've always liked being friends with someone first before dating them." Joe admitted as he slid his eyes over to meet (Y/N)'s. Staring back at him, she felt her heart stop as his gaze burned into hers. Nodding, she mumbled, "Yeah, me too."

His lips twitched upward as he broke the gaze and leaned back in his seat, throwing one arm over the back of her chair and propping his foot up on the seat in front of him, "I think it's gonna be a great ball game."

She could only nod mutely as she tried to pick up the scattered fragments of her thoughts. 

~

"C'mon. Go. GO. GOGOGO. DROP IT...AHH FUCK." Her head dropped into her hands. She was so sure that the hit the last batter had was going to be the one that got the Sox the win but the Yankees outfielder had just managed to snag it.     

Beside her, Joe was on his feet, pumping his fists in the air and cheering along with every other Yankees fan in the stadium causing the floor to rumble underneath her Converse. 

"C'mon (Y/N), you're missing the best part!" Joe laughed as he tugged on the back of her shirt. Lifting her head up she was met with confetti raining from the sky and Frank Sinatra crooning "New York, New York" over the stadium speakers as the crowd started to flood out of the ball park. 

"You're an insufferable bastard."

"Yeah but I'm your insufferable bastard." Joe cooed as he patted her head, snickering as she rolled her eyes and dodged out from underneath his patronizing hand. 

"Whatever, Mazzello. Let's head out." Pulling her phone from her pocket to call a ride, her brain was already going a million miles an hour, thinking about what Joe would possibly make her do. Just the kind of thoughts she was having were causing her to shift in place, trying to find some relief for the ache that was building between her thighs. 

Joe was consumed by his own thoughts at the opportunity before him. He didn't want to make (Y/N) do anything she didn't want to do but at the same time...he wanted to kiss her. He'd almost been disappointed that the kiss cam hadn't landed on them. 

Both of them were lost in their own world and as such didn't realize that the herd moving to exit the stadium had stopped which caused Joe to run into someone which made (Y/N) bump into Joe with an "Oof" 

Reaching an arm back, he wrapped his hand around her arm, steadying her as she tottered on the balls of her feet. 

"Without even looking back, that's impressive." 

"What can I say? I'm an impressive sort of guy." (Y/N)'s breath caught in her throat considering what else about Joe was impressive but immediately snapped out of it when he turned to face her over his shoulder and waggled his eyebrows up and down. 

Rolling her eyes, she shoved him forward, "Let's just get home so I can sooth my wounds with booze and maybe some leftover Chinese." 

"Wait, but we had Chinese at my place, none of it is at yours." Joe wrinkled his brow. 

"I know, that's why we're going over to your place. You have all the good food and booze." She shrugged as they pushed through the gates and walked to the bus that would take them home.   

"You always say that and then I run out of food and have to buy more. Why can't you ever have the good food and booze?" he grumbled.

"Because I can't afford to have you eating and drinking all my stuff." 

~~~

Shoving his door open, they fell into Joe's apartment, letting the artificial coolness of air conditioning wrap itself around them. Both of them letting out involuntary sighs at how good it felt after being crammed onto a hot bus with more warm bodies than seats.

"Time to munch..." (Y/N) clapped her hands together before she opened the door of Joe's fridge and pulled out a Chinese takeout container, popping it open, mouth watering instantly at the sight of the golden dumplings waiting for her, like little doughy presents.

Before she could even grab a fork, Joe's hand wrapped around the container, whipping it up and over her head, causing her to turn in place so she was witness to Joe shoving a dumpling in his mouth, "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I not tell you? Dumplings are for winners." He said through a mouthful of her dumplings. 

"You're the meanest person in the whole world." She declared as she turned her back on him to rummage around in his fridge, only to emerge with two beers in her fist. 

Joe couldn't help but admire how she looked in his kitchen. He couldn't help but think what it would be like to cook with her. Or cook for her. Having her sitting on the counter as he made her a home cooked meal, stealing kisses in between stirring and chopping, making small talk, kidding around with each other, he wanted that so badly he felt his heart seize with longing. 

"Well, I guess we can't put it off any longer." She sighed as she slowly placed the beers on the counter. The look on her face was so melancholy, Joe put down the takeout box and felt his heart leap up into his throat, "What do you mean?"

"I mean the bet. I lost. Which, I would like to point out, how brave I am for admitting that without retching," Joe rolled his eyes, "But I get to do anything you want me to do so, hit me Joe. What do you want me to do?" 

Peering up at him through her eyelashes she searched his face, hoping against all hope that he would say "get on your knees" or "get into my bedroom". She knew that was wishful thinking on her part but she couldn't help it. Watching his Adam's apple bob up and down as he took a huge swallow, she almost didn't hear what he muttered next, 

"Want you to kiss me." 

Her eyes shot up to his.  

"I mean, only if you want to. I don't want you to do anything you're uncomfortable with but, fuck, (Y/N), I've wanted to kiss you since I first met you and I don't know, it feels like there's been something more between us lately and I didn't want to hate myself forever for not just, going for it, so, if you want, I'd really like it if you kissed me." He ended this speech with a shrug, fiddling with his fingers. 

"Joey," she breathed out and Joe's form stiffened as he waited for her rejection, 

"I've waited for you to ask me that for so long." she admitted, almost laughing at how wide Joe's eyes became. 

Blinking he stepped forward, "Then get over here and kiss me."  

Eyes widening, she stepped up to Joe, their arms hanging at their sides as they contemplated each other. Unsure, she tilted her head up. Joe leaned his head down, lips ghosting over hers as he whispered, "Are you sure?"

She just nodded and felt her heart clench as a smirk grew over Joe's face. 

Reaching a hand up, he cupped her cheek, letting his thumb stroke over the soft skin. Closing the gap between them, he placed his lips against hers, gently. Not enough to really count as a true kiss, his last ditch attempt to give her an out if she wanted. 

The electricity zipping through her body let her know that this was meant to happen. 

Letting out a small moan, she reached her arms up to wrap around Joe's neck, dragging him down more fully against her lips. Twining his arms around her waist, he pulled her flush against him. Feeling her soft curves fit up against him in the most delicious way possible.

Deepening the kiss, he nudged her back toward the counter. She made a small noise in the back of her throat as her back hit the edge. 

"Jump," Joe breathed and she did what she was told, leaping up onto the counter, spreading her legs as Joe stepped between them, running his hands up and down her thighs, giving them a squeeze when he reached where she wanted him most. 

"Such a good girl taking my directions." he breathed into her mouth. Her head dropped back as she let out a groan. Joe smiled at the effect. 

"You're gonna ruin me, Joe." she laughed weakly as one of her hands intertwined with one of Joe's. 

"That's the plan, darling" he said devilishly, bringing his other hand to the back of her head, pulling her down to reconnect their lips. She cupped Joe's face with both of her hands, giving her all to the kiss. Letting all of her pent up want and need spill through her lips and tumble into Joe's heart.  

Letting his tongue slip through her lips, he explored her mouth. She gripped his shoulders as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him flush against the counter. Chuckling, he twined his fingers through her hair, giving it a gentle tug as he felt her body become pliable at the sensation. 

"So, you like having your hair pulled, huh?" He murmured as she mewled, scooting her hips closer to the edge of the counter, wanting nothing more than to grind her core against something, anything to relieve the ache that was building in her. 

"Mmm and you're a needy little thing too." he cooed as his hands ghosted down her body, outlining her curves. Nodding ferociously, she drapped her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his again as he gave her hips a squeeze. 

"Joe!" the yelp that came from her mouth was louder than she intended but she hadn't been prepared for Joe's arms to lift her from the counter and carry her into the bedroom. Feeling his chest rumble against hers she smiled, "I got you. Don't worry."

"I know. You've always had me." she breathed into his ear and Joe had to bury his head into her hair to keep from letting the enjoyment he felt hearing that shine too strongly through his face. 

Lifting his head from her soft waves, he gently laid her on the bed groaning when she stretched her whole body and smiled up at him, "Aren't you going to ravish me now?" she fluttered her eyelashes at him and felt her pulse quicken as Joe started unbuckling his jeans. 

"Sweetheart, I'm going to make sure every inch of you is screaming with pleasure." Eyes widening, she started to fumble with the buckle of her belt as Joe chuckled, "I, uh, kind of wanted to be the one who did that." Lifting her eyes she saw the blush in his cheeks and smiled, "Then come here and get into these pants, Mazzello." 

He pounced on top of her so quickly she wasn't even sure how it happened. His fingers making quick work of her belt and shimmying her shorts down her legs.  

"God, you're gorgeous." Joe's eyes shone as he drank her form in. When he got to her head his lips quirked up, "You're gonna have to lose the hat, babe. Besides, if anything you should be wearing the hat of winners." he joked as she rolled her eyes. Then, a wicked idea overcame her.     

Rising up on her knees, she placed her hands on Joe's shoulders to breath into his ear, "You mean like this hat?" Grabbing the hat Joe was still wearing, she flung her Sox hat to the floor and replaced it with his well-work Yankees hat. 

Seeing (Y/N) wearing that hat caused Joe's cock to twitch in his boxers and he let out a soft whine as she placed a hand on his thigh, "Do you want to fuck me in your Yankees hat, Joey?" 

"God, yes. I don't care how stereotypically male that makes me but, fuck, (Y/N), yes." his hands came up to her face, pulling her into a deep kiss that was interrupted by his moan as her hand started palming him through his boxers. 

"Fuuuck (Y/N)" he breathed out as his head fell against her shoulder. Smiling she kissed his neck as she tugged at the band of his briefs, "I want these off" 

Again, it seemed like Joe moved so fast she wasn't sure how it happened. In the blink of an eye he was laying on her bed, briefs off, shirt off and beckoning her closer with one finger, his eyes never leaving hers. 

Smirking, she crawled over to Joe. Straddling him, she reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, being careful not to mess up the hat that was positioned on her head. Joe smirked at the action but his jaw quickly dropped when he saw her. Her pink bra and floral panties somehow making the hat on her head even filthier. 

She felt his cock twitch underneath her heat and groaned at the contact. Leaning forward she pressed a kiss to Joe's lips then slowly started kissing his neck, down his chest and finally to his thighs where she most wanted to be.    

Biting his hips, Joe finally hissed "(Y/N), please, wanted this for so long..." Taking pity on him, she wrapped her lips around the tip of his cock and started working him over. The way Joe threw his head back and groaned was all the praise she needed.

Even though, as she bobbed her head up and down, Joe was heavy on the praise, "Such a good girl, making me feel so good, babe. God, don't stop..." when she took his entire length in her mouth, she felt Joe tug on her arm, bringing her back up to his lips, he kissed her deeply. 

"My turn," he murmured as he pressed her down into the bed. Smiling, she snuggled down into the pillows behind her and sighed as Joe pressed kisses all over her tits, reaching his hands behind her and making quick work of her bra.

She ripped it from her body and threw it to the floor as Joe danced his hands down to her cunt. 

Stroking the inside of her thigh softly, dragging his fingers closer and closer to her entrance she whined, "Joe..." lifting his head from her chest, he smiled,

"What? Not moving fast enough for you?" She nodded frantically and Joe's eyes never left hers as he moved a finger to run up and down her folds.

With a gasp she threw her head back and Joe growled, "Shit baby, you're soaked. Who did this to you?" 

"You...you did Joey. You always make me this wet."

"Always, huh? I think I'd remember if we hooked up before this." he smirked. 

"Every time I touch myself I imagine you doing it..." she murmured as she bucked her hips up to get his fingers closer to her entrance which meant she missed how comically wide Joe's eyes got and was caught off guard when he planted another kiss on her lips. 

"Those are the hottest words I could ever hear come from your mouth." she breathed out a laugh and then she felt her eyes rolling into the back of her head as Joe slowly inserted two fingers into her cunt. 

"F-fuck Joe, that feels so good..." Her voice trailed off as Joe started pumping his fingers into her slowly, relishing in the feel of the walls of her pussy tightening as he sought out the one spot that would make her lose her mind. After a particularly deep thrust that had her eyes rolling into the back of her head Joe leaned down to kiss her neck. 

Speeding up his fingers she felt her cunt clench, between his fingers and the way he was kissing on her neck, she knew was going to cum soon. 

"Joe...I-I'm gonna cum" 

"Good, want you to. Want you to cum around my fingers and then around my cock. Think you can do that for me, sweetheart? Want to feel how good I make you.” 

Making a whining noise in her throat she reached a hand up to the back of Joe's neck to reconnect her lips with his.

Pumping his fingers in and out of her he started to swirl his thumb over her clit and she moaned into his mouth, "Fuuuuck, Joe, don't stop"

"Wasn't planning on it" he chuckled into her mouth as he felt how close she was. Pressing more firmly on her clit, (Y/N) saw stars and she didn't even have time to warn Joe before the waves of her orgasm crashed over her. 

As she came down, she was aware of tightly she was gripping onto Joe's hair and let go with an apology. 

"Never apologize for pulling my hair when I make you cum like that. Truly, it's a small price to pay to see someone as beautiful as you cum because of me." Blushing, she reached her hands down to shimmy her panties down her legs and throw them into her room. 

Grabbing her hand, he gave it a kiss and they stared deep into each others eyes, she reached a hand down, brought his fingers up to her mouth and licked them clean of her juices, keeping direct eye contact the whole time. 

Joe's eyes darkened, "I need to fuck you. Now." 

"What are you waiting for then? Please fuck me, Joe." she cooed as she brought his fingers out of her mouth with a pop. Reaching her hand down, she pumped his cock a few times as Joe growled. 

Batting her hand away, he guided his cock to the entrance of her cunt, swiping it up and down her folds, "God, there's nothing hotter than getting my cock wet with your own juices, baby girl." 

"Fuuuuuck, Joe" she whined as she brought her hands up to rest on his biceps, squeezing them and laughing when she felt him flex, "Did you just purposefully flex?" 

Winking at her he pushed himself fully inside. Giving them both a minute to adjust, he brought his forehead down to rest on hers. Both of them closing their eyes and breathing each other in, it was the most vulnerable moment they'd  shared with each other. 

This one moment, where they were closer than they had ever been, it felt so right they couldn't quite believe that in a city of thousands, they fit perfectly together. 

"Joe?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?" 

"If you don't move soon I'm gonna be pissed." 

Laughing, he kissed her nose and started to thrust. Throwing her head back, she let out a string of curses as her hands clutched the sheets, feeling the walls of her cunt clench around Joe's length. 

"Fucking hell, feel better than I ever imagined."

"You feel a hell of a lot better than my vibrator" she choked out as Joe let out a single bark of laughter, thrusting harder. He lifted her legs so they were over his shoulders, enjoying how the new angle let him get deeper inside her, and by the way (Y/N) had started babbling about how close she was, he had a pretty good idea it felt amazing for her as well. 

"Fuck, Joe. Rub my clit. I'm so close. Again..." a moan swallowing the rest of her sentence as Joe started rubbing her clit. 

Seeing her writhe underneath him, knowing he was the cause of her pleasure and the fact that this was all happening while she was wearing his Yankees cap was almost too much for Joe.

"Sweetheart, I'm close.." he choked out as (Y/N) nodded, "Me too, want to cum with you..." she murmured and Joe nodded, thrusting harder as she brought a hand up to tweak her nipples. 

Pressing more firmly into her clit, (Y/N) felt her pleasure overtaking her body and succumbed to the orgasm that swept over her. Feeling her walls clench around his cock was the final push Joe needed. With a final groan, he filled her with his love, taking a minute to catch his breath. 

When they finally both opened their eyes they burst into giggles, 

"Hey."

"Hi" Joe breathed out as he tweaked her nose

Scrunching her nose, she reached her head up to press a gentle kiss to Joe's lips. Pulling himself from her, they both moaned at the loss of contact and after cleaning them up, he crawled into bed next to her, pulling her into his arms. 

"God, that was...amazing"

"And long overdue in my personal opinion." 

"Yeah, ya think?" he pressed a kiss to the top of her head then pulled back with a disgusted noise.

"What? Does my hair smell bad? Do I have lice or something?" pulling back she looked up into Joe's eyes. 

"No, this hat smells nasty. I can't believe you wore it when we had sex, who would do that?" 

"Don't lie, it was the one final push you needed to cum, yeah?" 

"I don't have to admit anything to you" he sniffed as she curled up into his arms.

Nuzzling into his chest, she placed a soft kiss right on top of his heart. Humming, he drew her in closer, closing his eyes and locking into his memory how it felt to hold her in his arms. 

His eyes snapped open, “Wait, hold on,” he jumped up, ignoring her protests as he rummaged around on the floor. 

“Joe, c’mon, come back and snuggle.” Pouting she turned only to be met with the lens of Joe’s camera focused on her. 

“JOE! I’m NAKED! What is your PROBLEM?” Scrambling, she threw the sheet over her form, peeking over the edge so only the hat and her eyes could be seen. They narrowed as Joe laughed, taking picture after picture of her. 

“Holy shit, there’s a really great one here. I think I managed to capture the exact moment your soul left your body when you realized I was taking pictures...” his voice trailed off as he swiped through the photos he’d taken, smile growing bigger with each one. 

“Glad you’re enjoying those horrible pictures. You better burn those Joe, I’m serious.” Pulling the sheet down to her neck, she fixed him with her best glare. It didn’t last long. 

How could it when he looked up at her with adoration radiating from his eyes? 

“You’re so beautiful.” 

Her indignation drained and she sat up, patting the bed, “Come back to me. Please?” 

Joe climbed into the bed, kneeling in front of (Y/N) to kiss her softly, “I’ll always come back to you.” 

Hiding her head in his shoulder, she pressed a kiss to the soft skin there, fighting back the tears she felt welling up suddenly. Pulling back she heard the click of the camera one more time. 

Joe lowered the phone, “So beautiful.” 

Taking the phone from him she turned around, her back against his chest as she held it aloft, “C’mon, first picture as a couple.” 

Smiling, they took one good one and the rest were a mess. One or both of them pulling ridiculous faces. A series of pictures where Joe was obviously playing with her boobs. Their favorite one was where (Y/N) was mid-laugh and Joe was looking at her, the love between them written so clearly in their eyes that they felt like they were infringing on a private moment. 

Looking at it, (Y/N) turned to Joe, “You think we’ll look at each other like that, even when we’re old?” 

Chuckling, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, “Absolutely. You and I are gonna be like that old lady at the baseball game and her husband.” 

“Are you calling me a hussy?” 

“Again, I’m just calling them like I see them.” 

“I feel like you shouldn’t call your own girlfriend a hussy.”

“Oh so you’re my girlfriend now?” Joe rolled on top of her, peppering her face with kisses as she laughed. 

“Well I won’t be if you keep calling me a hussy!”

“What if I only called you a hussy when we’re getting sexy?” 

Pausing, she reflected on Joe’s proposition, “Hmm, I guess that could be okay. But can you not call it Getting Sexy? That makes it decidedly not sexy.” 

“Alright, we’ll come up with something good. Though you should definitely always wear The Sex Hat whenever we fuck.” 

Sighing, she flicked the brim of the hat she was still wearing, “I set a dangerous precedent by wearing this, huh?” 

“Darling, you have no idea how dangerous you in that hat is.” Joe growled as he nipped her neck.

“Mmm, I think I have a pretty good idea.” She smirked as she tilted her head to the side, “It’s just enough to distract you so I can do this.” 

“Wha-” Joe hit the bed with an grunt as she slide out from underneath him and raced out of the room. 

“I’M GOING TO EAT THE LAST DUMPLING AND YOU CAN’T STOP ME.” 

Pushing himself up, Joe raced after her into the kitchen, knowing he’d be too late to stop her but he wanted to be around to imprint the image of (Y/N) naked in his kitchen into his brain for forever. 

[shining-red-diamond]

Trick or Treat, Revenge is Sweet

Words: 1k

Pairing: Felix x Reader

Rating: PG-13

Genre: slight angst, but mostly fluff (in a sense), mostly humor

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, vandalism, mentions of illness and bullying, and some language

A/N: This was inspired by a story time from @/HeyParis on YouTube. I also gave a name to the antagonist.

Fumed.

That’s all Y/N was feeling at that moment. Tanya had humiliated her for the last time, and in front of Felix, too. Typically, Y/N would let it go, but after crossing the line by bringing up her sick father, she nearly snapped. Felix already knew about Y/N’s situation, but he did his best to help her out. However, he thought Y/N was going to beat up, and he held her back.

“Such a good little boyfriend you are, Phillip,” Tanya scoffed.

“It’s Felix,” he huffed.

“Yeah, sure. Anyway, I’m having a Halloween party at my house tonight. Everyone on campus is invited if they wanna come, and that includes you two. But I understand if you have other priorities.”

Y/N had always gone to Tanya’s parties in attempt to make some friends, and she had mangaed to make a few, mainly because they hated going to Tanya’s parties to feel that they’ve done something wild. Tanya’s parties always started out calm, but they always ended up with someone or some people getting overly drunk and other shenanigans that happen. Y/N and her friends typically left early after the first round of shots were passed out.

However, Y/N was beginning to hatch a plan.

“There’s also gonna be a costume contest,” Tanya continued as she played with her brunette locks. “Best costume wins a hundred bucks.”

“It actually sounds like fun,” Y/N nodded. “Since I’m not in the mood to beat your ass anymore, I think I’ll come.”

Tanya looked at Y/N as if waiting for another sarcastic remark, but then smiled in a fake manner.

“Party starts at eight,” she said just before turning to walk away.

“We’re going,” Y/N confirmed as she watch the Wicked Witch strut away.

“Are you sure?” Felix asked.

She turned towards him and exhaled. “I’m not afraid of her. She can put on a ‘nice girl’ an act all she wants, but we know the truth.”

“What are you going to do? Attempt to embarrass her in front of everyone? I think she’s wear a dress to the party, so the only thing you’d do is somehow rip it with out her noticing.”

Y/N shook her head.

“What plan are you hatching?” Felix asked as he stepped forward.

“I’ll tell you when you come over to get ready for tonight.”

-

Taking one final look at herself in the mirror, Y/N felt like she could rule the world. She was dressed in a black, long-sleeve crop top, a black, plaid skirt with some silver chains on it, and she also wore a pair of black wings. Her makeup was dark, but nothing too intimidating. The thigh high boots she wore made her feel powerful.

Felix was dressed as dressed similarly but without the wings. He was dressed as a rock star with a Led Zeppelin shirt on.

His arms slid around Y/N’s waist, and he kissed her cheek. “You are stunning, my love,” he whistled.

“Is this Lee Yongbok or Kurt Cobaine?” I chuckle.

“I was going for a more Billie Joe Armstrong look,” he whined.

“Here.” Y/N grabbed some eyeliner and turned in her boyfriend’s embrace. She got to work, and in about two minutes Felix’s eyes were much more dramatic with the smudged black eyeliner.

“Perfect,” she giggled.

Felix kissed her once, careful not to smear her lipstick. When he pulled away, he asked, “Are you sure your plan will work?”

Y/N nodded. “By the time we’re done, Tanya will be too wasted to know she was set up.”

Once she grabbed two tubes of lipstick, she and Felix headed out the door and began their hike to Tanya’s house.

“You’re really going through with this, aren’t you?” Felix asked after walking two blocks.

“You’re acting like I’m gonna go full-on WWE on her,” Y/N scoffed. “I’m just going to embarrass her, and then I’m not messing with her anymore.”

“You promise?”

“Pinky swear.”

She knew it was only petty revenge, but she couldn’t shake the feeling. She wanted Tanya to have a taste of some of her own medicine. For a little while, at least, Y/N wanted some ease.

Hand in hand, the couple finally reaches Tanya’s front porch, music blaring from the inside as if they could shatter her windows at any moment. Once the approached the front door, Felix rang the doorbell, and Tanya, dressed as a sexy angel, answered almost immediately.

“So you decided to come,” she giggled before losing her balance a bit. Y/N could immediately smell the alcohol on her foe’s body. “You two have fun, but be mindful of the…um…fruity drinks. I think someone poured a little bit of Captain Morgan in it.”

Tanya hobbled away to who knows where, and Felix and Y/N entered the house. It was large and beautiful, no doubt, and Y/N sometimes wished she lived in such luxury; however, she liked her home the way it was. Lights were bouncing off the walls, the entire interior were decorated to the nines in cute Halloween decorations, and everyone there was dressed as various characters or objects.

“So do you want to start?” Felix raised his voice over the loud speakers.

“Not yet,” Y/N replied. “I’m gonna wait until ten. People will either be drunk or making out in different hiding spots.”

“Oi, Felix!” a voice from behind them called. It was his friend Chan, who was dressed up like Ghostface for the night.

“Meet me in the upstairs bathroom in an hour,” she instructed.

The two went their separate ways, and for that hour Felix had fun with his friends from his soccer team. Y/N hung out around the snack and drink area speaking to people she knew. She wasn’t one for alcohol, so she stuck with sipping on soda for the night. The party itself was wild already, the music loud enough to cause a plane crash. More guests were starting to get drunk or disappear to various parts of the house. Tanya was acting more and more giggly and childish as the hour went by.

“I’m an absolute angel,” Tanya praised herself drunkenly to her friends at one point. “I am as pure as freshly fallen snow.”

“Snow that’s been pissed on,” Y/N mumbled as she sipped on her drink, causing a few guys next to burst into laughter.

When she checked her watch, it was five minutes until she and Felix would meet upstairs. After disposing her cup, she made the ascent, putting a little swagger in her step. Her brain couldn’t register why, but she felt powerful. She turned her head to signal for Felix, but he was already trailing behind her.

The two entered the designated bathroom and turned on the lights. The wallpaper was an ugly green pinstripe, and the marble counter wasn’t helping it either. The only decent pieces were the porcelain tub and framed artwork on the walls.

“So, what’s your plan for here?” Felix asked as he closed the door.

Y/N reached into her purse and pulled out the two lipsticks she had.

“Bathroom’s a bit ugly,” she sneered as she handed Felix one of the lipstick tubes. “How about we decorate it a little?”

“Is this part of your plan?”

“No, I just thought of this last minute.”

With a smirk on her face, she and Felix both began their artwork on the bathroom walls. Felix drew and wrote whatever his heart desired, and Y/N just doodled hearts everywhere. This went on for about twenty minutes, Felix managing to stand on the toilet seat to write “Trick ‘r Treat” near the ceiling.

When they finished, they decided to do make murals in the other bathrooms in the house. This continued until both lipstick tubes were empty, and neither of them got any marks on their costumes.

“Is this where your real plan begins?” Felix asked after they disposed the lipstick tubes.

Y/N said nothing but pulled out her phone and called the nearest police department. They stayed in the current bathroom they were in and locked the door while she dialed the number, making sure she used the star-six-seven method.

After someone picked up, Y/N ignited her scheme.

“Hi, this is Jennifer Barbara,” she used a fake voice. “And my neighbors next door, and absolutely loud. I have four children under the age of six, two of them have school in morning; and my husband has work in the morning. You need to come shut this down, please. It’s ridiculous. Listen.”

She held her phone to the door, which she had opened to increase the volume of the thumping music. The woman on the other end agreed to send the police over immediately.

Knowing where they lived, it was going to take the police at least twenty-five minutes to arrive; so Y/N lead Felix back out towards the snack and drink bar. A few more people where already drunk out of their minds at that point, and the party started getting a little crazier.

“A glass of Captain Morgan,” Y/N told the bar tender, and he was happy to pour her a glass. “Thanks.”

“That’s it?” Felix asked as she took her glass.

“Follow me.”

Felix obeyed, and she led him to where the deejay was jamming out to the music he was playing. He notices the two and gives them a nod of acknowledgment before turning his attention to two other women who showed up next to him.

Felix did dance a bit as Y/N just bounced to the beat while pretending to drink her beverage. After a while, there was a banging on the door.

“Right on queue,” Y/N smirked.

Tanya’s boyfriend answered the door, and as Y/N planned, three officers were at the door. The music was still going while the boyfriend and now Tanya were arguing with the police while Billie Eilish’s “bad guy” was playing in the background.

“Party’s not over!” he announced to the rest of people there.

We’ll see about that, Y/N thought as the line “I’m the bad guy sounded.”

As soon as she was sure the deejay wasn’t looking, Y/N took a sip of her Captain Morgan and dumped it in a manner that looked accidental on the equipment. The deejay’s workspace sparked a little, but it mainly blew the speakers out. Fire wasn’t lit, but there was smoke. The party guests immediately started shouting in complaint and running around in panic.

After getting rid of the glass, Y/N and Felix quickly exited the main living room and out to the front patio. The two of them were both roaring with laughter as a few people were starting to exit the house, some of them a little too buzzed to sense what direction they were going.

After catching their breaths, they decided to head to a diner for a late night snack.

“You scare me sometimes, Y/N,” Felix commented as they walked to her house for her car. “But since it is still Halloween for another hour and a half, I’ll let it slide.”

“I’m not doing that again,” Y/N sighed. “If Tanya does figure out it was me that did all of that, then I’ll help her pay for damages.”

Y/N had grabbed the wizard’s wand in her little gamble, and she felt really good. However, she still felt a little bad for ruining someone’s party, even if it was someone she deemed as Lucifer. Her dad would want her to help out with anything.

She looked back at the scene they left. More people were leaving the property, and officers were still getting everyone to clear out. Tanya and her boyfriend were still dealing with an officer, but she had cuffs on her wrists.

Y/N couldn’t help the smirk that was coming back to her face.

“Trick or Treat, you she-devil,” she muttered victoriously.

-

Tags: @burberrylucas​ @daybreakx​ @cloudychannieee​ @barsformars​ @starsandsoul​ @hyyunjins​ @mafia-nct​

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis: Thrax

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

So I made a poll, a poll to determine who you all wanted to see get the Psycho Analysis treatment for Black History Month. I picked a few myself, but I also put in choices so my fans could pick four villains portrayed by black actors that I would review. I had some truly legendary performances on there, there was Blacula, Dr. Facilier, Audrey II! And yet, somehow, despite all of these fantastic characters… y’all wanted to hear about the dude from Osmosis Jones.

Don’t mistake this for bashing Thrax, the absolute best part of the half incredible work of animation, half miserably dated grossout comedy that is Osmosis Jones; I’m just more baffled people wanted to hear what I thought of this guy, of all characters.

Motivation/Goals: Thrax has one desire, and one desire only: recognition. Specifically, he wishes to be put down in the medical books as an unstoppable, deadly disease, and he goes about this by killing each of his victims faster than the last. He proudly states how he has previously killed a child, as well as killing an old man in 72 hours, so he has quite the impressive resume behind him to the point how it’s amazing he hasn’t been put in the books yet. Still, it’s hard to deny he wouldn’t deserve some fame for ridding the world of a toxic slob like Frank.

Performance: Thrax has pretty much got it all set in terms of personality, animation, and voice acting; he’s scoring tens across the board in all three departments. He’s just so charming, affable, and in the eyes of some very strange individuals, sexy. I mean, I guess it doesn’t hurt that his voice is supplied by Laurence Fishburne, a man who is most definitely a sex god If I’ve ever seen one. Ladies love Cowboy Curtis, or so I’ve been told. Still, for all his outward charm, there’s still nothing that hides the fact he is a brazen, remorseless serial killer who relishes in the suffering he causes his victims before they expire. He’s literally a sick bastard.

Final Fate: Thrax falls into a beaker of alcohol while fighting Osmosis Jones. Befitting a character who is relentlessly dark and jarring in an otherwise goofy buddy cop grossout comedy hybrid, we get to witness him dying in excruciating, agonizing detail that is sure to scar a few children whose parents thought it was a good idea to let them watch this film.

Best Scene: Literally every scene with him is one of the best in the movie. But if you want to know how to perfectly and easily establish a villain, look no further than his introduction scene, where he cooly murders two sanitation workers and then destroys their ship like it’s just another Tuesday for him… and let’s be honest, it probably is.

Best Quote: Again, look no further than his introduction scene. “Careful, I’m contagious,” delivered perfectly by Laurence Fishburne as Thrax murders an innocent white blood cell, is pretty much the entire character wrapped up into a single line dripping with faux affability. I honestly envy that line, it’s just so damn good.

Final Thoughts & Score: Thrax is a villain who is legitimately way too good for the film he’s in. He’s just so wonderfully jarring in tone and personality; while you obviously need a villain in a buddy cop movie, this is a buddy cop movie that is not only animated, by juxtaposed with early 2000s live-action grossout comedy being performed by Bill Murray. Hell, Thrax enters Frank’s body after Frank consumes an egg that fell on the ground at the zoo after being in a monkey’s mouth, and then we are expected to care about what happens to Frank when Thrax starts causing problems.

Honestly, much like the case with Hexxus, this movie makes it way too easy to want to root for the villain here. Let’s look at the facts – Thrax is played by Laurence Fishburne, who we have already established is a sexy hunk of man. He is clearly a walking reference to “The Mask of the Red Death,” and who isn’t a sucker for homages to Edgar Allen Poe? He is dark, terrifying, and far more impressive than the movie around him. He brings comedy to a halt and makes every scene with him in it feel terrifying. And, most importantly, the people he’s going up against are a lot less engaging and impressive than he is. Jones and Drix are fun, sure, but are they as cool as Thrax? And Frank is so utterly worthless Thrax killing him would likely be a mercy, or it would be if he didn’t openly state he was going to kill Frank’s daughter next.

Thrax gets a nice 8/10, sitting alongside fellow “Sexy-voiced and strangely dark villains in cult classic animated films” Joe the fish and Hexxus. He really is a villain way too cool for at least half of the movie he’s in. He really feels like a leftover from when the movie was supposed to be PG-13, and they just totally forgot to tone him down at all when they retooled it into what is ostensibly supposed to be a family comedy. And you know what? That just makes me love him all the more.

[christalpepsi]

a bit for storage

I’m going to post a buncha my grey’s fic! Not everything is connected yet, I just write in bits and pieces. Alex Karev x OC (for now), loosely follows canon, just not izzie. Anyways this is what I got so far: 

TW: depression, suicide, death

Selected bits from S1E1

Finally. Her first day. She was indescribably excited, but anxious thoughts kept invading her mind. She’d worked her ass off for this, and seeing it’s fruition as a residency at Seattle Grace was so rewarding. Well, until Dr. Webber killed the mood. 

“Say hello to your competition. Eight of you will switch to an easier specialty. Five of you will crack under the pressure. Two of you will be asked to leave. This is your starting line. This is your arena. How well you play...That's up to you.”

What was this, a gladiator fight? Her brows furrowed, but as she glanced around, everyone was completely serious. Well, fight she would. 

She zoned out, hoping she’d get placed with people she met at the mixer, as Webber started listing the interns and their assigned residents, until her name caught her attention. 

“...Dr. Heather Palmer, Bailey. Dr. Isobel Stevens, Bailey…”

Someone nudged her from behind. 

“Palmer, you got the nazi.” Great.

She didn’t wanna push the envelope on the first day, so she had brushed her curls out and slicked them back into the tightest ballet bun she could without giving herself a headache. 

“You’re gonna be a suck up aren’t you? I can tell. Regular Mrs. Grundy.” Alex, another intern, snorted as she bobby pinned her bangs back. She glared at him, but he missed her stare as his eyes roamed over to Dr. Stevens. 

The other interns muttered amongst themselves as Heather finished tying her shoes, trying to imagine what the “nazi” looked like. A short black woman walked in, and no one paid her much attention until she raised her voice. 

“I have five rules. Memorize them. Rule number one, don't bother sucking up, I already hate you, that's not gonna change. Trauma protocol, phone lists, pagers. Nurses will page you, you answer every page at a run. A run, that's rule number two. Your first shift starts now and lasts forty-eight hours. You're interns, grunts, nobodies, bottom of the surgical food chain, you run labs, write orders, work every second night till you drop and don't complain!”

She rushed out of the locker room at a quick walk, and everyone scrambled to follow her. Slamming open a nearby door, she said flatly, “On call rooms. Attendings hog them, sleep when you can, where you can, which brings me to rule number three, if I'm sleeping, don't wake me, unless your patient is actually dying. Rule number four, the dying patient better not be dead when I get there, not only would you have killed someone, you would have also woke me for no good reason, we clear?”

Silence fell, and Heather and the blonde girl, Izzie, vigorously nodded their heads.

“Um, Dr. Bailey?” Heather said softly.

“Yes,” Bailey said, staring daggers.

“You said there were five rules? That was only four.” Dr. Bailey stared a hole through Heather, chilling her to the bone. Thankfully, Bailey’s pager started beeping. 

“Rule number five. When I move, you move.”

“Nurses are the ones implementing most of our work, dickhead.”

“Whatever. Maybe you should’ve been a nurse then.” Alex grabbed his chart, and sauntered away. 

“Palmer, what is it?”

“Pain, paresthesia, pallor, pulselessness, paralysis. Compartment syndrome.”

“So? Book an OR!” Bailey yelled.

“Oh! Right, booking a plastics OR for a fasciotomy.”

Selected bits from S1E3

Alex stormed into the locker room as Heather and Izzie were changing. “Morning, Dr. Model.”

“Dr. Evil Spawn.” Stevens deadpanned.

“Ooh, nice tat. They airbrush that out for the catalogs?”

“I don't know. What do they do for the 666 on your skull?” Heather snickered, earning a glare from Karev, but effectively shutting him up. As they finished clipping their badges on, Palmer turned to Izzie, lowering her voice a tad.

“Iz, I don’t blame you! If I was hot I would’ve done the same thing.”

“Oh, shut up, you’re so hot.” Izzie retorted.

“I’m not skinny blonde hot.” Heather crossed her arms.

“Whatever, sexy brunette goddess.”

She let out a giggle, pleased to have the complement returned.

“Are you guys gonna make out now, or what?” Alex interrupted. Heather scoffed, leaving the room with Dr. Stevens in tow.

Dr. Palmer’s patient was scheduled for a lap cholecystectomy at 3 that afternoon with gensurg, so she had time to kill. Heading for the locker room to grab her wallet, she overheard a raised voice. Walking in, she saw a crowd had gathered, and Izzie stood in her bra and underwear. 

“Let's study them, shall we? Gather around and check out the booty that put Izzie Stevens through med school. Have you had enough or should I continue? Because I have a few more very interesting tattoos. You want to call me Dr. Model? That's fine. Just remember that while you're sitting on 200 grand of student loans, I'm out of debt.” Izzie yanked her clothes back on and stormed out of the room, nearly knocking Heather over. 

Everyone awkwardly filed out, leaving Alex and Heather staring at each other from across the room. 

“Where do you get off?” She sighed, leaving her wallet still in her locker, and left for the break room empty handed.

Additional Bits That I’m Working In

Sure, he was a whore, but...seeing him with the kids stirred something in her. It freaked her out. He was Alex Karev, Dr. Evil Spawn, cheater, syphilis giver, aloof, uncommitted, but stubborn, calm, steady, yet exhilarating, adroit, wry, and so clever. And so kind. So kind. He held the premie in his arms, a crooked smile on his face, and feeling her gaze, glanced up to meet Heather’s eyes. She lit on fire under that gaze.

“Palmer.” Addison’s voice brought her out of her thoughts, and she turned away, towards the direction of Addison’s call. Alex’s eyes followed her out of the room. 

“So who’s going with Dr. Montgomery-Shepard?”

“I will!”

“Palmer, you’re in Peds or OB everyday. I’m putting you in cardio.”

“Damn it.” she muttered. Cristina’s mouth dropped open in offense.

“What? She’s crazy and ungrateful and-turning down cardio?”

“Yang, take her place in OB today.”

“For God’s sake…” Cristina huffed and went to find Addison, leaving Heather with Burke. 

“Hey, Joe! How’s your day been?” Heather hopped up on one of the barstools, trying not to slouch due to lack of back support. 

“Eh, so-so. Whatcha drinking?”

“Hm. I’m not sure,” she turned to her right. “Alex, what am I drinking?”

“We’re off tomorrow. Have some damn tequila, Palmer.” he said with a smirk.

“Don’t mind if I do. Could I get a flight, Joe?”

“Alright! Make sure you don’t die of alcohol poisoning, Dr. Grundy.” Alex jabbed her in the side, making her flinch. She whacked him on the back of the head teasingly. 

“Here ya are, Dr. Palmer.”

“Joe, please, it’s Heather.”

He chuckled, heading down the row as she took her first shot. 

“No chaser? You psycho. That’s pretty hot.”

“Yeah, I know.”

And him. Just standing there, arms crossed, chewing his Extra peppermint gum, not a care in the world. He was leaning against the nurses’ station, and she noted with envy the eyes that weren’t hers staring at him. 

Just laying there, hearing Mere’s bedsprings, Izzie’s rustling, George’s soft snores...she was so alone. She had no reason to be. Full house, friends that cared for her...or did they? It’s not like they went out of their way to make plans outside of work, other than Joe’s, which wasn’t exactly the healthiest of bonding activities. But no one fought for her. She didn’t even fight for herself, and she could feel it again, the sinking. The numbness was settling in again. She stared at the ceiling fan, spinning, spinning, spinning. 

“It’s depression! Just...it hurts all the fucking time, Alex! And I just, file it away, keep myself busy with work, with Joe’s, with you-”

“Oh, so I’m just here to keep you busy, is that it?”

“Isn’t that what you wanted? Just sex?”

“Shut up!” He took a ragged breath. “Please, just leave me alone, Heather.”

She pursed her lips. “If you wanted-I mean I-”

“I asked you to leave.”

Defeated, she met his eyes and turned back down the garden path to her car, careful not to trip in the dark. She wouldn’t be sleeping here tonight. 

Izzie hadn’t moved from the bathroom floor in about 18 hours. Heather was inclined to go lay down with her, but it wasn’t her rotation yet. George was in there keeping her company for now. 

“Who’s next?”

“Meredith. When I tried to kill myself, it was because I saw no way out.” She fiddled with the sheets of Meredith’s bed to be rid of some of the fidgety anxiety. “Just having to be mediocre, feeling I wasn’t important to anybody…” she trailed off, looking in Meredith’s direction. “Mere, you have so much. You have such a gift and I know you don’t want to hear this, but you can’t be so careless. There are people who care about you, people who love-”

“Okay, Palmer, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, I really do, sharing your trauma and all that, but I’m fine. Really. I didn’t try to kill myself, thanks.”

Heather sat there until Meredith raised her eyebrows, a clear order to get out. Turning the corner she ran smack into Karev, whose eyes were haunted. 

“You tried to kill youself?”

“Ha. Yeah, big whoop.” She looked at him witheringly. Her facade fell when they locked eyes and she shrugged. “G’night, Alex.” She sidestepped him, heading to the elevator.

“Okay, but you can see us being endgame right?” Meredith asked again desperately. 

“Mere, I’ve already told you, you and Derek, if you want to make it work, you have to put in the effort! It depends on you two, not some magical twist of fate.”

“God, if he so much as looks at me funny, I’m reporting for sexual harassment.”

“That’s what everyone says before they sleep with him.” Callie said wryly. 

No. Because he had this thing with Rebecca. And she was supposed to be with Ben. But, God was it hard to give him space. 

“Please…” tears shined on his face, and his nose had started to run, “Please, please, please…”

He grabbed her by the back of her neck, forehead to forehead, pleading. “Alex-”

“Please...” She wiped his tears away, but new ones replaced them just as quickly.

“Callie, oh my God! Congratulations!”

“Thank you, Heather! George and I just-did it!’

“Lexie! Wanna work with me today?”

“Oh my gosh, yes!”

Heather pulled her to the side. “Thank God, you’re my favorite. Don’t tell the others.”

He pulled her closer to him, as if that would save her from the water that poured into the elevator, soaking their scrubs through. Their shoes were squelching as they ran to dry land. Except, of course, there wasn’t any. The whole floor was flooded. 

“Oh, God, it’s seeping through my socks.” Heather groaned. 

“I can handle the mess.” Alex said softly. “You know that.”

“But- I’m so much. Alex, Mere thinks she’s all dark and twisty or whatever, but that’s nothing, not to invalidate her but, it’s nothing compared-”

He took her by the sides of the face, eyes open, honest.

“I said, I can handle it. Do you want this?” 

Heather nodded, as a loss for words.

“Then bring it on.”

“Get a crash cart, dammit!” Heather yelled, voice cracking as tears spilled over. She met Alex’s eyes, just as glassy as hers, and he took over compressions.

Her knees buckled. She fell to the floor as if in slow motion. Izzie, first, now George. Not Georgie. Her 007, her Bambi. O’Malley. The pain was constant, unceasing. Because he really was gone. She imagined him, like he should’ve been the next day, new Army uniform, neat buzzcut...her head was too full; it was too much. Her body wouldn’t move, her mind was debilitated-then strong arms grasping her, meeting her here, on the floor.

“He was. George was hit by a fucking bus!” They burst out in laughter, trying to stifle any echos so passersby wouldn’t freak out.

The addition of Mercy West was hell on earth. Even just the loss of Izzie made the workload shoot through the roof.

[sopxhiea]

Acrimony

Alfie Solomons X Reader

| Prompt

“stop trying to act like you’re not bleeding out in front of me! this is serious!”

The wooden walls were illuminated by the low light put in the corner of the room, it was neither dark or bright but just enough to get some reading done. The flowers were long gone, some of them had been pressed inside a book that was laying around in the office space and some had been simply discarded. The space didn’t smell as nice before, although the vanilla scent coming off of the candle resolved it just by a tad.

It had been a long day, it was barely Friday but she already felt like she needed a week of rest just to get through another day like this. Her feet were bruised, she had been walking around all day and the comfortable shoes weren’t so comfortable anymore, she would throw them away in the morning. That was, if she ever left the office. She had too much to do, it always got busy to a point she felt blurry all the time. Both her head and her vision were out of it today.

She had dealt with three immature men in the morning, getting sexist remarks because of her gender and the fact that she was younger than anyone else in the room. It didn’t bug her, she was used to that kind of treatment but what bothered her was the fact that they talked about her relationship with Alfie. She had worked hard for what she had and she didn’t want anyone saying she got where she is because of a man, she simply hadn’t. She also knew that the word had gotten around after that one time Alfie had taken her to a party and they’d danced, a little too intimate which would confirm the already existing suspicions. And it had certainly done that.

There was a pile of paperwork waiting for her, still undone because she’d been too busy all day and Joe hadn’t gotten around today, he was busy with his girlfriend and Y/N had let him go for the day, which had been a mistake. She leaned back on the comfy chair, trying to pause the moment by taking it all in but she had a headache and finding peace was never an option for her, not when a million thoughts ran through her mind each second of the day.

Out of every million thought she had, half of them were about Alfie. Sometimes she would replay the moments in her head, trying to ease the pressure for the day by knowing he was what she’d come home that night. There were also times where she’d just kiss him a lot that morning, wanting to savour the taste and the warmth he’d provide which would hopefully last a little longer than the last time they’d kissed. She remembered him visiting her office twice everyday for four months, simply because he wanted to see her and also because he would bake something, or buy something or make something for her and she’d welcome him with open arms.

She sighed, not hearing the backdoor open while she typed and wrote and annotated. Her hands were covered in ink and so was her white shirt but her maid was a sorcerer when it came to getting out stains so it’d be fine. There was a content smile on her lips that suddenly arose when she saw Alfie’s face, getting through the door with a loud thud. She shook her head, trying to digest the sight before her while he gave her an apologetic smile.

She wanted to punch him, to make sure he sat home all the time even if it meant that she needed to tie him onto a chair. He had fresh wounds all over his face, his tried eyes were even more blurry than usual. He wasn’t going to cry but he felt anger towards himself for letting it get to that point, it wasn’t supposed to go the way it did and now he had three blade wounds on his body, and in front of the woman he loved.

She sighed, her mouth open in both shock and disappointment. There had been many times when Alfie would come home and pieces and she would have to put him together, many nights where she spent the night waiting for him to fall asleep after he’d gained a fresh wound so that her heart would be at rest. She had begged him to stop doing such dangerous things, she was also in the same line of business but managed to get things done by not killing a couple men so she knew it was possible to do things that way. She wanted him safe and in one piece.

She shook her head but opposed to her usual attitude when she saw him in such a state, she didn’t walk towards him. The last time she had patched him up, she had told him that it’d be the last one where she’d be her usual self when he showed up with deep wounds. It took everything from her, to just stand there and keep her promise to herself, she wanted to hug him and feel his touch and to make sure he was feeling okay, he was her Alfie after all.

“I...” she spoke, finding it hard to form sentences while every place she looked at, there was blood or a scratch. “I don’t-” she said, a low sob coming from her throat that cut her sentence in half.

He had a bleeding wound that could potentially kill him but seeing her cry hurt him much more than a cut in the flesh. He hadn’t intended to get bruised all over, the men who’d done it were dead anyway but he had gotten some serious damage which he knew would upset her but he had forgotten what she had said about cleaning him up last time, she would do it either way, that much he knew but she was now mad and sad because of him. He hated seeing her like this and knowing the reason why was him made the whole thing even worse.

“Luv, I just need a little bit of alcohol on ‘em.” he said, signalling the wounds with his hand while the other held the cane. She laughed in disbelief. “And I’ll be fucking fine..”

She cried when she was angry, she hated the habit of doing so and he knew she was angry by the gathering tears in the corners of her eye. She wanted to throw the chair into his face and punch him until she lost all her power but he was already wounded bad enough. Another part of her wanted to wrap him layers of thick blankets, give him tea and some soup and stay with him till he was feeling his absolute best.

She hated how much she cared for him.

She opened her mouth to speak but words escaped her, he was being stubborn again, acting like he was just alright when he was potentially on his way to see the bright light that night. She shook her head, feeling Alfie’s discomfort while he stood there, standing in front of her but a little more far away than she usually liked him to be. “I can’t fucking see the logic in all this.” she said at last, expressing her disbelief not only with her words but also with her face.

“Look, luv, ‘t was just an inside job, yeah..” he spoke, his voice was becoming hoarser by the second. “..wasn’t supposed to go this way but I’m fucking okay..” he said, smiling at the end of the sentence but the more he talked the more she wanted to throw that chair into his beautiful face.

“Stop trying to act like you’re not bleeding out in front of me! this is serious!” she shouted, she never shouted at him but he’d deserved it. Her hands pointed towards him, shaking while she cried her anger out with sad eyes. There was fire in her gaze but he knew what was behind the spark, it was sorrow.

“You can’t just...show up here, bleeding your heart out in front of me!” she said, tears flowing down her face, she was so scared for him to the point where her anger didn’t matter so she walked towards him and pulled him down roughly to sit on the big sofa he usually sat.

“I’m fucking sorry, yeah..” he spoke to her when she came back with supplies and bandages to patch him up for the day, her anger was visible still but she needed him to not bleed at the given moment. “I am, pet.” he said when the alcohol met his skin, he didn’t wince because she was always gentle with him.

“Shut up.” she said, cold and loud. She didn’t want to hear any of his sweet words because she knew he’d lure her in. He would make her forgive him in a tiny second if he needed to with the skilled words he’d use and she truly didn’t want to hear him.

She slowly patched up the biggest wound around the side of his ribs, stitched him up skilfully as he watched her with love in his eyes, she was his home. She sighed, looking around his face that was decorated with scratches and cuts. She straddled him with the shake of her head, positioning herself on top of him as their lower bodies met, he grunted in approval while her expression remained a cold one, even with the warmth of his body and the hands that rested on her legs.

“Stop moving.” she ordered while cleaning a cut right above his left brow. His fingers caressed the sides of her thighs while he hummed, nodding his head as to say that he was still there and listening.

The next hour involved her going through every wound, scratch and cut he had and treating them. She was being extremely careful with her touch even though she was super angry. His hands found her body most of the time, sometimes it was her thighs or her hand, he had kissed her cheek more than once was she was busy with his face as to say that he was thankful, not only for cleaning him up but also for being there.

“Okay..” she said, finally separating her body from his and throwing sheets of cotton away, all of them colored with his blood just like her hands. She hated this part of cleaning up. Disappearing into the bathroom around the place, she scraped her hands, washing them more than once to get rid of the red color while tears joined the water running down the sink. She didn’t want to see him this way.

She knew these kind of interactions were usual in the line of business they had, she had no problem with that. The problem, as she saw it, was that sometimes Alfie’s anger would take over and he’d go places he knew were dangerous, places he knew would get him hurt and not just physically. He enjoyed the pain in some parts, he wouldn’t have been doing this in the first place if he didn’t but sometimes, it got too much. 

She found him staring at her while she called for her car, gathering her things and waiting for Alfie to feel a little better so that she could help him walk to the car. She sighed, shaking his head as his eyes followed her clothed figure slowly make its way to him. She sat on the floor next to his legs, her hand rested on one of his thigh while his hand found her arm, gently stroking her soft skin while she felt her anger fade. She was his.

“I don’t want to have to put your pieces back together every time this happens, Alfie.” she spoke, lowly and he enjoyed her calm voice, it was his favourite tone of voice when it came to hers.

“I know, luv.” he said, planting a kiss on the top of her head while she shook her head, tears coming back into her eyes again as she found it silly just how scared she was for him. “I’m alright, yeah?” he said, hands coming around her cheeks to make her look up to him. Her eyes refused to meet his even when he was wiping her tears away.

“Yeah..” she nodded, knowing that he would heal soon and probably get himself beaten up again. “But what If you’re not?” she asked, meeting his eyes this time. “What if you can’t make it next time?” she asked the question she was dreading.

There was a pinch of doubt in her eyes, if he would really live but she needed him to. She wanted a life with him, something that would be worth the books she’d read about romance. She wanted to see him age and succeed and she wanted to travel with him, see him in every imaginable scenario just because she knew it would make her fall even harder for him. She wanted to join souls with him, learn everything about him and memorise the creases around his eyes but that would be hard to do if he was in another world.

“I won’t ever leave, yeah?” he said, reassuring the worried soul in front of him. She needed to know what he was thinking. “I won’t leave you no matter what the fuck happens..” he said, lowly into her ear and it made her sigh, she knew this but she got worried.

She nodded, giving him a sad smile. She knew he was right. Alfie was always the one to make it out, he would plan things and usually have a back up plan as well but It was her right to be angry at him for coming all this way with a wounded body, she had told him to be careful. She looked into his eyes, finding comfort and love this time. She sighed and shook her head with a chuckle, she hated to give in but it was Alfie out of everyone.

“I want you around..” she spoke, not looking into his eyes but she could sense the confusion the sentence caused by his body language. “..not only for now or next week but for as long as you’re willing to stay and I do not want to lose you because you had an argument with a gang leader..” she said, looking right into his eyes when her words were out of her mouth.

He could only chuckle at her words, the sound of her voice a mere melody to is ears. He knew he wanted to marry her, he had been carrying the ring in his pocket for the past month but he just needed the moment to be perfect. She was his muse, the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with and he knew she’d say yes, he knew she wanted him around, too but hearing it from his lips made him the happiest man alive.

He leaned in, ignoring the slight pain from his wounds and capturing her lips in his. It was a velvet kiss with small touches from him, caressing her cheek and neck while she melted into his touch. They had their problems but their relationship was the one for the books, maybe not as smooth as she’d planned once she had started dating him but she knew it would be a good life as long as Alfie was there to share it with her.

[dopescotlandwarrior]

Unforgettable-Chapter Two

Previous chapter on AO3       A special thanks to @statell​ for all your help

Chapter Two

Jamie ran to the shower and thought about how to say goodbye to the Sassenach. His shower was twice as long because what he said had to be perfect. If she wouldn’t stay maybe he could convince her to come back.

Claire’s mind was screaming at her to get up and get away before things got awkward. Still coming out of the orgasm haze, it was difficult to think clearly. By habit, she evaporated, stumbling to the door as she ordered an UBER.

Sinking into the front seat she felt a little safer, but from what, she wondered? That question was pondered right up to her front door and the answer was grim and devastating. It didn’t fit in the landscape of her life, and it threatened the foundation of her neatly constructed existence. Safer from herself was the answer and it rattled her to her core. It was like she was suddenly split in two. One side was arguing for love and commitment, the other side shouted for independence and freedom. Opposing sides meant she could be wrong about living without her heart and that was starting to feel like a threat.

Claire was in the grips of a panic attack that included the fight or flight reaction. She wanted to run and save her own life…from herself. The phone called her attention away and thankfully it was Geillis.

“Claire! I took the day off to help ye, are ye ready for me?”

“Yes! Please hurry and let yourself in, I’m getting in the shower.”

Geillis had knocked on Claire’s door the evening before, planning to spend the night on her couch but she never came home, and her phone was turned off. Geillis was not surprised Claire would grab every possible minute of fun, even on the eve of her departure. She got busy taping up her boxes to be shipped and filling out labels to Honduras.

“Stop Geillis! I haven’t pulled my clothes that I’m taking in a suitcase!”

Claire pulled the boxes open and filled a suitcase of clothing to wear while she waited for the boxes to arrive. Geillis knelt on the floor so she could start over while Claire pulled her field pants on, tucking in a white t-shirt and lacing up trench boots. This last-minute chaos was her comfort zone and kept her mind off Jamie Fraser. It was helping, she was feeling in control again. She would be fine, she decided, once she was away from Scotland, she would never think of these people again. She prayed to find a gorgeous sexy doctor on staff in Honduras that she could lose herself in.

The doorbell made her gasp and blush crimson as she looked out the peephole. The sight of Laoghaire was a relief, or was it a disappointment? The argument in her head raged again making Claire feel insecure and fearful. What if she was wrong about love? What if she was leaving Jamie behind based on a faulty decision to disconnect and just have fun. The panic attack came roaring back and she had to get to the airport before something tragic happened. She looked at the UBER app on her phone for almost a minute.

“I think we’re ready Claire. I’ll come back for the boxes this afternoon,” assured Gellis.

“Good, let’s go.”

Claire sat alone waiting to board. Calming, deep breaths were doing nothing for her shaking hands, racing heart, and mounting nausea. She pushed back on the tears that burned her eyes. Get me out of here, get me out of here, get me out of here, became her mantra until the plane was high in the air taking her to a new life.

A new book, a sketching pad, her laptop, and maps of Honduras were piled on the seat next to her, ready to occupy her time and keep thoughts of Jamie away. She tipped the steward lavishly, so he never let her drink go dry or the peanuts run out. In between each activity, she found herself staring out the window, reliving the night before when they talked so honestly and loved without limits. By nightfall, she was drunk enough to fall asleep for the rest of the trip.

The reverse thrust of the engines and a hard break pulled her from sleep as the plane was coming to a stop. She was in Honduras and the plane had landed without someone waking her to put her tray table up and return her seat to the upright position. She glanced at her lap, not even a wake-up to put her seat belt on. Grabbing her carry on and purse, she walked to the front of the plane where a group of men were trying to get the door open.

“Excuse me, please. What is happening?”

The man in front of her glared at her suspiciously and didn’t answer. Claire spoke to him again in almost perfect Spanish and he did not bother to turn around. She sighed and found a seat to watch the men try to open the side door and deploy the chute. Apparently, Honduras Airlines would get you to the airport, but you had to find your own way off the plane. She rolled her eyes feeling the heat and humidity flow into the cabin now that the air conditioners were turned off. Thirty minutes later the door opened, and she shot down the chute, drunk once again after helping herself to the drink tray while she waited.

Landing on the hard ground Claire gathered her purse and suitcase but was unsuccessful at standing up. She wondered if she could sleep for just a bit on the puffy sides of the chute. She bent to lay her head down and saw a familiar hand in front of her face.

“No, Claire, sleeping on the tarmac is not allowed. Have no fear my beautiful friend, your bed is near.”

Strong arms pulled her up and grabbed her suitcase as thoughts of Jamie’s biceps, back, thighs and butt, filled her head. She looked at Joe and smiled in gratitude. For the next thirty minutes, the open jeep bounced through the jungle into a pitch-dark night.

“Claire sweetheart, you are too quiet. Are you feeling sick? If so, just lean over and let it rip.”

Claire looked up at his disembodied voice and could not see even an outline of where he was. She crossed her arms around her stomach and closed her eyes.

“There it is baby girl, your home for the next twenty-four months.”

She looked up feeling a rush of relief there were lights ahead. I can do this, she thought, we have light to feel safe in this primitive place. When the jeep finally stopped, a gorgeous man came around the jeep and kissed Joe soundly, moaning as they embraced. The men separated and Joe made the introductions.

“Claire, this is Kevin, Kevin, this is the super nurse I told you about.”

Kevin smiled and stuck out his hand, but Claire was too polluted with alcohol to remember to turn her head. The next movement she felt was Joe hoisting her over his shoulder and she struggled with her nausea as he walked to her room and dropped her on the bed. She was so close to hurling she kept her eyes squeezed shut and waited for the lovers to leave.

Her misery had no equal, waking every hour or so to stumble outside and rid her stomach of its contents, dripping wet with clothing clinging to her. This continued for what felt like several months, if not a year. It was actually a single night of puking into the jungle, severe anxiety when awake, and her broken heart reminding her of the most incredible man she had ever known. As dawn broke over the jungle, the blood-curdling screams of the monkeys brought her out of her dreams, sitting up wide-eyed, looking for an escape. Dropping to the soaking wet mattress, with a throbbing head and churning stomach, she decided she landed in hell and kept her door locked for the rest of the day and night.

Someone pounded on the door and Claire bolted upright trying to control her ramming heart. She was disoriented and the knocking got louder forcing her to find the door by feeling along the wall.

“Nurse Beauchamp! We have casualties. Report to triage, on the double!”

Casualties? What the fuck was he talking about? Why is he so rude, he doesn’t even know me?

A loud kick at her door made Claire jump, pulling the door open. The hallway was crowded with hospital personnel running in both directions. She stood, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, shaking from head to toe. A familiar arm came around her waist pulling her out of her room and rapidly forward.

“We have casualties Claire and need you to do triage for the surgeons. I’m sorry to throw you into the fire baby, this was not expected. If you want to live another day, it’s time to save lives, Claire.”

“What?”

Joe pushed her into a large room full of crying people on liters or the concrete floor. She held her head and assessed the most gruesome and life-threatening injuries she had ever seen. Pure terror filled her heart and she felt her feet moving forward. Sinking down to the floor, she assessed each body and sorted them into three groups. Those that would die within thirty minutes, those that would die in three hours, and those that were already dead. A young Honduran male assisted her in moving the bodies into the three groups.

A warm hand came down on Claire’s shoulder, dripping with blood. A strong voice asked her to identify the groups. Claire looked up at a beautiful face, eyes that held compassion and strength, and she felt safe suddenly, as long as he was near.

The man knelt in front of her. “Did you just get here? Don’t answer, I can see that you did. Let me explain. This is unusual but the casualties are from an attack on a nearby village, for food and supplies. The resistance gets more powerful and bolder. These are innocent people. Farmers and merchants that are being exterminated throughout the country. Do not speak to any of the villagers, ever! The resistance hates the US and UK. Don’t let them know you are English speaking. It will keep you safe. What’s your name?”

“C..Claire Beauchamp.”

“Welcome aboard, Beauchamp. What is your specialty”

“Trauma and neonatal.”

“Perfect…you are with me for every shift. Just look at the surgery schedule. Anywhere you see my name, that is your shift. Am I clear, Beauchamp?”

“Yes, clear sir. What is your name?”

“Cutter Anderson.”

“Looks like two in your first group have expired. Get the kid to move them to the dead pile.”

The man was running toward the surgical wing, he was out of sight in two minutes. Claire felt the deep quaking and jerking of her body and hands. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, so she pointed at the newly dead gesturing toward the pile of bodies and watching the young assistant pull them away. Knowing her time to save the deeply wounded was short, she gestured to the young man to move them into position of greatest need for immediate surgery. Other people came with liters to carry them away, one by one. She saw the extent of pain and misery on the remaining group and ran to administer pain killers, dressings, burn treatment, and stabilizing IV solutions to keep them alive.

Her misery, fear, and heartbreak forgotten, she spent the next thirteen hours at trauma level assisting the villagers. When the last body was placed on the liter, heading for surgery, she collapsed in a corner and stared into the empty, bloody room. She was covered in sweat and blood, barely feeling Joe pick her up and carry her to the communal shower where he pulled her shoes and clothes off, down to her underwear. Cool water covered her, and Joe pushed her head under the water stream. Claire tried to protest but gave up to the ministrations of her best friend who seemed to know just what to do.

“C’mon sweetheart, hold still while the water brings your temperature down. Jesus Christ Claire, you were amazing. I expect the personnel will part like the red sea for you after that shift. What was that baby? Home? You want to go home?”

He kissed her cheek with a smack. “You don’t have a home, so you're stuck with me.”

When Claire cried, he could feel the shaking start from shock. He pushed her hair out of her face and held her close under the cold water. Claire sobbed and called out for Jamie. Joe tucked her into bed and laid down next to her so she could feel him holding her and hear his breathing. During the night, her body stopped shaking, and the drenching sweat returned, Joe slipped from her bed to look for Kevin.

Claire was ripped from a deep sleep nearly jumped out of bed from the loud kicking at her door. “Not again!”

She pulled the door open gasping for breath, holding her arm in front of her eyes from the glaring light in the hallway. A breakfast bar was shoved into her hand as the man barked, she was needed in surgery.

“Dress Beauchamp, I’m waiting to escort you to surgery.” When he saw her eyes glaze over, he brought the volume up, “on the double nurse!”

Claire was shoved into a sterile gown and a cap that instantly soaked into her scalp. She scrubbed for gloves and was pushed into the OR to assist with a premature birth while the doctor worked quickly to save the mother.

“Ready Beauchamp? Two minutes and you’re in a race to save this baby. Good luck.”

Claire felt like she was in a dream. She looked around the surgical room for another doctor to assist with the baby. It was her and Cutter Anderson, no one else. She looked up at the doctor wide-eyed and questioning.

“You are all she’s got, and you’ve likely seen the procedure many times. You know what to do, so do it.”

Claire grabbed a blanket from the stack and held her arms out to receive the tiny body. When the doctor dropped the lifeless baby into her arms, she felt the strength of ten men galvanizing her into action. She cleared the airways and slapped the thigh of the baby hearing the doctor roar, “harder! She won’t do this on her own. C’mon nurse, lay some pain on that baby or lose her!”

Claire heard quiet sounds from the baby and recognized the newborn was in distress. She felt her heart pound and her arms fly taking a stick of blood from the heal, listening for heart rate and wrapping the infant in warm blankets. Her lips were still blue, and Claire called to the doctor for intubation and respiratory assist.

“Get her ready, I’ll give you two minutes of my time for intubation. Get the ventilator and monitors ready in the incubator, get a surfactant replacement ready for the breathing tube, and hurry!” Like an after thought, “treat with eyewash before taping the lids closed.”

“Ready doctor!”

He jerked his head up and saw the equipment arranged, baby’s eyes taped shut and the glowing incubator. He took two steps and had the infant with a breathing tube down her windpipe in one minute. The baby was unwrapped to expose her skin to the UV lamps that would consume the extra bilirubin built up in her blood. The infant showed no movement and Claire was scared to death.

“Assist please, Beauchamp. I need you to grab the clamped blood vessel under the uterus. I can’t hold the organs away and grab it, You ready?”

They tried twice and the patient was losing blood pressure rapidly.

“Come in front of me and hurry.”

Once Claire was in front of the doctor, she felt him breathing into her hair and pressing into her back. His long arms came around her and lifted the organs up. Claire saw the blood vessel and grabbed it, locking the forceps to hold it.

“Awesome, you just saved this teenager's life, good job.”

The doctor’s arms opened allowing Claire to move away. She watched his practiced hands move swiftly, and ten minutes later the abdomen was closed, and a transfusion was pumping life-saving blood into the woman.

“Excellent job, nurse. I could cry with relief that we have someone of your caliber.”

Claire thanked him as he backed into the scrub room pulling his gown and gloves off, looking exhausted. Claire returned to the baby and pulled a new glove on one hand. Sticking her pinky into the mouth she lightly rubbed the roof of her mouth waiting to feel the tongue make a connection and start sucking. No response and her heart fell.

Claire ran out of the OR right into the hot wet air of the hallway reminding her that the surgical rooms were cooled to control bleeding. She was slick with sweat in mere minutes, asking people where doctor Anderson was.

“Who?”

“Cutter! Cutter Anderson.”

Someone pointed to the shower room and Claire bounded in coming face to face with a naked doctor. Her shock was obvious, and the man kindly turned around and asked what she needed.

“Ah…stom…stomach tube in the baby…please. I’m sorry to burst in here like this.”

Claire could feel her blushing face, like fire on her skin. But when he turned around, she allowed herself to study his tall, muscular frame. Nothing close to Jamie’s physique, but impressive nonetheless. She tried to imagine running her hands up his back or feeling his body pressed into her back as he did in surgery earlier.

“I’ll get the tube in. Give me five minutes nurse.”

Claire was locked in her head and was still staring when he turned around. Seeing his eyes lock on hers she jumped and ran away, hearing the good doctor laugh behind her.

The city of Edinburgh was like a gem to a farm boy raised on an ancient estate in the country. He couldn’t get enough of the castles, culture, and preserved lands where great battles were fought, and courageous men died. His first look at the city each day set his mood of wonderment and happiness which lasted throughout the day.

But not now, because Jamie opened his office like a zombie. What did he think? She would change her plans, her personality, drop her fear of intimacy and become a trusting perfect woman after one night in his bed? Every spare minute during the long day Jamie was beating himself up mentally. He tried very hard to hate her, and remember the empty bed, her cold-hearted escape during his shower. The minutes played with his head as he tried to act normal with his patients. The office staff asked him several times if he felt ill. He finally said he had a migraine and the sympathy of his team felt like a warm blanket. Why couldn’t you leave me alone Sassenach? You are heartless.

From one until two o’clock his anxiety grew until he could hardly speak to anyone. He could feel the rumble of her departing plane shaking him on the inside, he finally asked the office manager to cancel all appointments for the rest of the day.

Jamie poured a whisky and sank into his couch, remembering how she pressed into his face confessing she was hopelessly crushing on him.

The irony did not escape him. For over a decade he lived without commitment and emotion so he could perform the job he was given and meet the rigors of medical school. Sadly, it became him, self-reliant, focused, and sometimes ruthless. The attributes that built a successful practice were gone. Compassion, empathy, sincerity, concern, and willingness to serve others, once seen as weakness, were now required. He worked very hard at getting this back. The Sassenach was still learning to live without them. But her involuntary reactions like blushing, pupil dilation, respiration, and dancing with a fish, were collectively revealing her truth.

Jamie poured another whisky and tried to get some work done but he couldn’t concentrate. “I see, I’m not miserable enough for ye.” He stared out the window at the heavens and drained his glass before pouring another. When the walls started closing in on him, he tossed his gear in his truck and left. Two days in the woods would clear his mind and on Monday he would return a new man, he decided. Deep inside he prayed this was true. He found no value in this purgatory so he would think her away.

Jamie felt stronger the closer he came to Lallybroch. When the landmarks of his youth came into view, he smiled at the comfort they provided, exciting him to get as far and high as he dared over the next two days. Pulling his pack onto his back sent a message to his brain; prepare for the pain. A subconscious trigger from the weight of his pack, and years of training opened the flood gates of adrenalin, increased respiration, and engorged the muscles that would stabilize his body as he climbed. He felt alive and in tune with the woods and soaring rock. He was ready, and that made him happy.

When the sun started it's decent, Jamie found his favorite campsite and set up for the night before heading to the stream for his super. He was ravenous and consumed two energy bars to stem the shaking in his hands while he fashioned a rod and tied his hook and string. Back against a rock where he wouldn’t cast a shadow on the water, he pulled his book out to enjoy reading while he still could. Three pages was the longest interval between fish. Dropping two gutted fish back into the water for breakfast, he returned to camp and his dinner.

With a full belly and exhausted muscles, Jamie laid under the stars and decided this must be what drugs feel like… sublime, until she showed up. Like a shadow, she was always with him if he cared to look, and the sole purpose of this trip was cutting her loose. Paying close attention to his feelings, he summoned her to him and imagined her sitting by the fire. The first thing he felt was fear and he sat up abruptly and shook his head. That was impossible! Preposterous because fear was a stranger to him, yet there it was. I don’t live in fear, he thought, of anything, especially a one-hundred-pound girl. He could accept the feeling of loss, concern for her safety, or hurt that she did not want him. There was a multitude of feelings he would accept, but fear was not one of them, yet there it was.

Jamie went back to the beginning of their short twenty-hour history, working forward in his memory he could not find the fear. The night pressed into his brain with soothing sounds and smells. Like a mother’s lullaby, it made him sleep, dreamless until the first rays of morning touched his skin... like a sledgehammer.

Resuming his uphill climb, he struggled from the get-go, needing multiple rest breaks to breathe and let the sting in his thighs pass. Frustration imposed and he finally gave up when he found one of his favorite meadows where he could nap in the sunshine. Why was this so hard today he wondered, refusing to acknowledge the answer screaming in his ear. He finally took ownership of how he felt and surrendered, before walking to the stream to fish for his luncheon with fear. Once he was full, he turned a deadly eye on his guest and ruthlessly pulled the truth out of it. In his mind, he was ferocious toward the fear but when he saw Claire his stomach flipped, and he felt weak. The stark contrast told him something subconscious was fueling his attachment to her. It wasn’t sex, or her fabulous personality, her daring nature, or her vulnerability. This was no easy thing to flesh out and he felt defeated and frustrated, so he packed up and kept walking. Fear was easily keeping up with his pace, gaining in strength as Jamie was losing his own. “Christ almighty,” he growled, and looked for the next meadow to think some more. He laid back in the sun and napped while his subconscious gained the upper hand and presented the problem. Don’t expect her to go away and leave your heart, it said. You are connected to her for life, it is destiny for you both, you have no say in the matter. Jamie struggled to wake up, somehow knowing it was a dream and ready to wage war on the answer. You have lived many lives together and will continue to do so as the ages pass.

“Enough!”

Jamie sat upright, hearing his voice shout out to no one. Suddenly, he felt like a miserable pile of putrid emotion and anger, polluting this pristine landscape. He packed up and started the climb down. There is no supernatural, he thought, no soulmate, no destiny, and I am arguing with my own mind!

The first remedy was a substantial glass of whisky once he got home, and then another. He decided they would find teeth in his brain when he was autopsied in fifty years or so. Teeth of a twin that never developed and he would have been the stupid twin now exerting his foolish ideas while Jamie slept. Jamie felt the warm shower rinse his toothless twin away, laughing at his conclusion. There were thousands of women right here in Edinburgh. He will supplant the unforgettable Claire with little effort and be better for it. He was calm and relieved when he dropped into bed.

Claire was so freaked out by seeing the doctor in the shower that she forced Joe to engage her in conversation near the nursery to avoid interaction with the doctor. The baby’s survival hung on minutes now, she would start the supplement for her sustenance the minute she was tubed.

Joe asked why they were fake talking outside the neonatal room. After explaining what happened, seeing the doctor naked, he gripped his knees and bent over laughing, releasing a spontaneous fart that brought color to his dark cheeks.

“Jesus Claire, it’s co-ed, and I guarantee you will not get through a shower without a dangler walking in.”

“And what would be a dangler?”

Joe extended a finger at his crotch and wiggled it while he tried to contain his laughter. Claire rolled her eyes just as the doctor was exiting the room.

“Good to go, nurse.”

“Oh yes, he is definitely stalking you now Claire.” It was Joe’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Shut up you idiot, it was my embarrassment, remember?”

Claire made a disgusted sound and pushed into neonatal to finally feed the tiny survivor. Waiting an hour after the feeding, she did the critical testing for neurological, heart, lung, kidney, and heel sticks for blood chemistry. Hours later, she read the disappointing results and braced herself for a likely end. Claire ran her fingers over the baby’s skin and held her tiny hand. Her eyes hurt from being open too long and she felt her tongue stick to her cheeks. If she did not do some self-care soon the baby would lose her only advocate.

Doctor Cutter Anderson walked into neonatal at three o’clock in the morning. He knew the baby was too young to survive without a dedicated team of neonatal specialists. It was only a matter of time, so he braced himself before each visit. Claire laid on an extended lazy boy, sound asleep. Cutter could see her phone ticking down for the hourly alarm, his impression of her was growing. He smiled at her and appreciated the private time to really look at her. “What is such a pretty girl doing in this hell-jungle?”

Cutter covered Claire with a thin blanket to avoid excessive mosquito bites and left, turning off the light. When Claire felt the vibration of her phone she struggled to remember where she was as she sank back into her dreams. She was lying on the forest floor as sweat dripped off her from the stifling heat. It was difficult to take a breath of the hot, humid air. Cold drops of water sprinkled down on her shoulders making her gasp with the contrasting temperature. When she opened her eyes, Jamie’s face was right above her, smiling. The tie covered her eyes and she went to the blackness.

The phone vibrated again and woke her from the haunting dream. “Go away Jamie,” she whispered, “get out of my head.” She completed the feeding while dozing and gratefully returned to the lazy boy, hoping Jamie did not invade her dreams. Or did she hope he would? Her exhaustion took over before she knew the answer.

[megalony]

Brothers and love- Part 3

This is the next part of my new ben Hardy series which I hope everyone is enjoying so far, feedback is always appreciated.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogermeddow @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @rogahs-drowse @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me

Summary: Ben’s brothers Joe and Gwilym and their dad Roger try and help him through his addictions that have stopped Ben from being able to look after his daughter. When (Y/n) becomes involved with the family, she vows to help Ben get custody of his daughter and finds herself falling for him along the way.

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

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

"What if he says no?" The words came out in a single breath, rushed like they were being thrown out of Ben's mouth as his head turned to look at his big brother. Even though there were ten years between Ben and Joe, it always felt like there was little time between them with how close they had always been since childhood.

The blond couldn't help but panic now that they were both stood here on the gravel in front of the large red wooden door Ben had tried to break down two weeks ago. He was stood here, calmly for the first time in what felt like years, waiting for their dad to open the door and let him in with a smile instead of a look of panic or sorrow. But that felt like a dream which Ben knew was too good to be true. To see his family smile at him the way they used to was something that felt far-fetched to Ben with how they had all been looking at him lately. He hated the looks of sadness or sorrow or fear and pain that he received.

Ben wanted everyone to look at him and smile, to feel proud of him or happy for him or just generally pleased. He liked to please people but he always seemed to end up disappointing them instead.

He remembered all the good times in his life where he told Roger of an achievement whether it be passing a test, doing something well when Roger taught him to drive like he had done with Gwilym and Joe. Or when he simply decided he wanted to go into acting like his brothers, there was no smile like when Ben told Roger he was doing something he loved or had done something he felt proud of. When he had Hazel Roger had cried and that was one of the few times he knew his dad to cry of happiness.

Ben had done his best this week, he hadn't done amazingly well or as good as he wanted, but he had done enough. (Y/n) and Joe had helped him to clean his apartment up and rid it of all the substances that would tempt him which had been a struggle for Ben. He hadn't managed to curb his relentless urge for a drink, but he hadn't taken any heroin this week or weed or any of the few other drugs he had tried but didn't take to. He hadn't had any drugs in his system and that was enough for now. Drinking was what he was tempted to do because it calmed his raging nerves better than smoking a normal cigarette did.

He had gotten drunk two days ago, but yesterday and this morning he had been as sober as ever and Joe told him that was enough. He told him that since he was perfectly sober and clean right now, then the scheduled visit to see Hazel had to go ahead and Roger had no reason to decline.

"He can't say no, Ben, you've done everything he asked."

Roger knew what it was like to feel tempted by a drink, he wasn't an alcoholic himself but throughout his years touring and being with Queen, drinking was a large portion of that time. It was what they all did after a good show or during the coach rides to the different cities and states, it was what happened at sociable occasions and it was a pass time when in his youth at university. Roger wasn't surprised Ben had taken to drink but he was surprised he was so dependant on it so early on in his life.

Roger had asked Ben that if he visited Hazel, he had to be clean and sober for at least a day or more and he couldn't turn up under any substance influence. The drummer knew it would be hard for Ben but he wanted Ben to know he couldn't care for Hazel if he continued to intoxicate himself like this.

When the front door finally opened to reveal Roger, a shiver ran down Ben's spine as his knees trembled like they were about to snap and let him fall down to the ground. Never before had Roger looked or seemed so intimidating to Ben who always saw his father as an easy-going, kind and soft person. Even when Roger smiled, it wasn't enough to calm down the raging storm inside of Ben. It was times like this where he felt the need for a drop of whiskey for his courage and something to smoke to ease the tension in his nerves and the butterflies let loose in his stomach.

Ben couldn't manage a smile, all he could do was look to his feet before looking back up at his dad like he was a school kid to be reprimanded.

He looked better than the last time he turned up here. Ben's eyes weren't welling with tears or burnt red, his face wasn't blotched or stained with tears. His hair wasn't matted or tangled or a mess falling in front of his eyes, it was curled as usual but neatly placed under the black beanie sitting upon his head. He had remembered to put his watch on today which was something he normally forgot about, he was wearing a plain black t-shirt and his favoured silver chain around his neck with the tree of life symbol hanging loose at the end. He wore navy blue jeans and his normal black and white trainers.

He was colour coordinated, matching and presentable. He had the same style he had when he was in his teens and it made Roger think for a moment that his youngest was seventeen again.

"Come in." Ben had to look to his brother for reassurance as if he thought he had misheard before he practically jumped up the step and into the house, glancing around like he was seeing the house for the first time. He looked over at Roger as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, his shoulders hunching in a nervous way that made him look younger.

What Roger wouldn't give to go back to Ben's teens and live them out again. To see his youngest who was always tall for his age, to watch his style grow and change and go through all the motions with him. Helping him with his anxiety, getting into the college and uni that he wanted, making his career and sharing every moment with Roger. If he could do it again he would and Roger would find moments where he could have done things better, where he could have looked out for Ben more or just guided him that bit better. Sometimes, he felt like he had let Ben down. Maybe it was because Roger had Gwilym and Joe live with him whereas Ben was always staying over at the weekends or sometimes through the week like a friend or reoccurring visiter.

Roger would change things, he would have made it better so Ben didn't feel like he needed the drink and drugs to help him when times were tough or his mind was unstable. He would turn everything around so Ben had the normal parent struggles, so he didn't have to have his daughter taken from him and his mind broken with grief and pain.

He would make things right.

"She's in there waiting for you." Roger didn't bother with the 'how are you' or 'are you feeling alright' or anything along those lines. He didn't want to make Ben wait any longer to see his daughter when he had been turned away last time and it almost broke him.

A rush of adrenaline washed over Ben as he held his breath before nodding and trying to slow down as he headed into the living room. His eyes scanned the room until he found his baby girl sitting on a blanket on the floor with toys and some stuffed teddies scattered around her. When Ben kneeled down in front of her he didn't know whether to reach over and pick her up so he could cuddle her or whether to wait for her reaction and see what she would do.

Her vibrant light caramel eyes soon found his and an open-mouthed smile was his reaction which made his heart flutter like the wings of a dove. It was as if he could feel the feathers lightly brushing against his ribs causing him to breathe quicker.

"Da! Da." Her small hands reached out towards him and her fingers curled in a grabbing motion and it was all the encouragement Ben needed to reach over and gently scoop her up into his arms.

"Hey baby."

He cuddled her to his chest, smiling when she cooed into his neck causing his skin to prickle from the sensation. Ben pressed dozens of kisses to her cheeks causing her to giggle which was like music to his ears. After a minute or two, Ben gently set her back down before moving round so he was laid out on his stomach in front of her so he could watch her play and interact.

A gentle smile pulled at his lips when she reached out for the beanie on his head like he knew she would. Whenever he wore a hat or a beanie she liked to take it off him, Hazel had some sort of likeness for Ben's hair that she would tug or grab at whenever she could. Reaching up, Ben whipped the beanie from his head, disheveling his curls that Hazel immediately reached for. She was gentle at first, running her small fingers through his newly washed hair which made her smile. But she soon grew bored and started to tug on his hair like she was trying to get him to come closer to her.

"Alright, cheeky girl, alright." Ben soothed, gently taking her hand from his hair but he shuffled closer and kissed her head, keeping her hand in his as he couldn't seem to stop smiling. He had missed her so much these past two weeks and he wanted to see her desperately.

At times, Ben wondered if Roger was keeping her away from him on purpose, like he was going to suddenly tell Ben that he was never getting custody of Hazel and he would never see her again. But he felt calmer now that he knew Roger seemed to be on his side like Joe was. He was looking out for him like he always said he would, just like Joe always did too. Ben knew the pair had gone into the kitchen to let him have time on his own with Hazel and he was thankful for that.

The first time Ben had a visit to see Hazel it had been a week after they had taken her from him and no one let Ben out of their sights. They thought he would run off with her and it was clear he was very tempted to do so. He had tried that before but it didn't work and it only upset both him and Hazel but he never wanted to leave.

Every time he went back home Ben wondered if Hazel would forget about him or be better off without him or he fretted that he was never going to get her back. It seemed like such a long time away until he was going to be able to have his baby girl back with him properly instead of visiting her with people watching over them.

Ben wanted to be able to feed Hazel and take her out to the park or put her to bed or give her a bath again. He wanted to do everything with her that he wasn't allowed to. All he could do on these visits was just sit and play or cuddle with her and it wasn't enough. Ben didn't want to be a visitor in his daughter's life, he wanted to be her dad and look after her and take care of her like he had done the moment she had been born. This wasn't the same and it didn't feel fair.

After a while, Ben gently picked Hazel up and made his way into the kitchen with her to get her a drink. He settled her on his hip, feeling her small hands grasping at his shoulder as she started to chew on his shirt as he searched for a bottle. Just for a few minutes in the silence of the kitchen as he found what he was looking for, Ben felt like everything was different. He felt like he was living back at home with his dad with a four-month-old in his arms. Ben felt like he had gone back in time to when everything was bearable and no one doubted his skills as a parent.

When he was staying with Roger and he had Hazel, Ben had felt so much better. He had taken care of her with no problems, no one said anything or looked at him oddly or watched him for any mistakes, everyone thought he was a good dad. For a few weeks when he was at the flat with Hazel he felt like everything was okay. He had happy looking after her, putting her to bed or feeding her and waking up at all hours. It had been bliss to look after her and then pop to auditions every week to find a new role to work on.

Leaning his back against the island counter, Ben looked at the one-year-old perched on his hip who was holding onto his hand that was holding the bottle for her. He loved it when she had a bottle because her eyes always managed to find his and her iris' seemed to enlarge and their colour intensified. She looked so sweet and beautiful and precious looking up at him like that with manic curls that matched his own. When her head leaned on his shoulder but she continued to stare up at him, Ben felt content washing over him like the tide.

But as soon as he saw Joe quietly walking into the kitchen, the tide returned back to the shore and Ben no longer felt like he had travelled back to a near memory in time. He was back where he didn't want to be, living on scheduled visits to his daughter instead of being with her all the time. He was back to having his parenting skills witnessed and observed.

"I don't want to go." Ben shook his head as he pleaded with his brother, pushing away the tears already threatening to spill despite the content feeling he had felt only a matter of seconds ago.

"Buddy, we have to go soon, you can come back to mine if you want?" Joe leaned against the doorframe, holding onto it as if for safety as he stared at his baby brother who looked like he was no in pain and Joe hated to be the one to cause that pain. But they had to be going soon and Hazel would need a nap soon anyway.

When Roger walked into the kitchen, Ben turned to look at him with a pleading expression that broke Roger's heart completely.

"Can't I stay? Can I stay with you again, dad please? It worked last time, I can get clean and be with Hazel." Ben bounced his girl on his hip as he set down the empty bottle on the counter. He held Hazel a little higher up on his chest as she rested her cheek on his shoulder so her breaths fanned against his neck like she was trying to calm him down.

Ben could stay with Roger like he had done last time, he would make sure it worked this time around. If he was struggling he would tell them instead of running away and making himself worse. He could be around Hazel every day and be motivated to get clean for good and there would be nothing here to tempt him. He could try again and it would work out, he just couldn't keep being separated from his baby girl.

"Ben... I want you to stay so I can keep an eye on you I do, but you know you can't if Hazel's here. It's not my rules but if you want her to stay here then you have to follow them, what if you stayed here and you got drunk or got high around her-"

If Roger had the choice then he would say yes immediately because he wanted Ben around. He would have all the boys come back home if they wanted because Roger missed the days of having his kids at home and right now Ben needed help that Roger wanted to give. But he couldn't. It was a risk to have Ben in the same house as Hazel in case Ben got high or drunk around her. He wasn't allowed custody of her because he was deemed unfit to care for her so being in the same house went against those regulations. It was good for Ben that his family had care of Hazel instead of a foster family, they couldn't push the boundaries any further in case they broke.

"You came home drunk hundreds of times and it didn't bother us, I wouldn't hurt her you know that." Ben knew Roger had come home from parties or tours or just nights out and he had been very drunk and it never bothered the boys. Roger didn't get violent when he was drunk and neither did Ben, he wouldn't pose harm to Hazel. Ben would be around Roger and his family if he stayed here so they could stop him from excessing with his drink and they could get him clean so he wouldn't be a hazard to his girl or anyone else.

"I'm not worried about you hurting her, no one is saying that and you know that. We're saying that you can't control it, you need the drink and you get high and you can't do that every day around her. Son, I'm sorry but it's not my choice, you can't stay with me unless Hazel goes to stay with someone else."

"You can stay with me." Joe piped up, his head leaning to the side in a pleading manner because he wanted Ben with him. He wanted to help his brother get through this so he could have Hazel back as quickly as possible because being apart from her wasn't helping him at all.

"I don't want to stay with you, I want to stay with her. She's gonna forget about me, she'll think I'm some visiter or her uncle soon but I'm her dad. Every time I visit her I want to take her home with me and it kills me, I, I can't keep doing this dad." Ben leaned his head against Hazel's as he felt her beginning to fall asleep. He slowly swayed from side to side, bouncing her gently in his arms to help her go to sleep as he started to cry.

Each time Ben visited he just wanted to snatch her and go home with her and make everything alright. It was worse each time he visited because he yearned to have longer with her or to be her dad again instead of having slotted times to come and see her. Ben didn't know how much longer he could keep doing this.

"She's one, she won't understand you not living with her and soon enough all she will know and remember is living with her dad which is you and she knows who you are." Joe felt his heart breaking because time was different for Ben and Hazel. She didn't understand the passing days, she wasn't keeping a log of where Ben was she wouldn't know if he was living in the same house as her or not. And soon she would hopefully be back living with him and she would never know that she had been apart from him. Ben was the one in pain and who would remember this separation.

"Next time you visit we can take her out somewhere, or you can stay for tea or be here when she gets settled to sleep. You can do whatever you like next week when you visit and she will know who you are. If we get you clean and get you help then you won't need to come and visit, she will be back with you I promise." Roger's promises always counted for something, they were always sacred and special to Ben but right now it meant very little.

Everyone was telling him that Hazel would be back with him soon enough and that this wasn't for long but it felt like it was going to be forever. Until someone told him for definite that she could be back with him tomorrow or next week, that promise wasn't going to mean anything or be taken to heart.

A shuddering breath escaped Ben's wobbling lips before they pressed to Hazel's temple. He pushed himself off the counter and started to walk forward and his heart shattered when Joe shifted just the tiniest bit and Ben knew it was because he thought Ben was going to try and walk out with his daughter. Ben's chest started to quake as he walked over to where Roger was standing and gently moved Hazel in his arms so Roger could take her. As soon as his sleeping granddaughter was in his arms, Roger felt a tear leaving his eye as Ben sobbed.

Ben pressed the back of his hand to his mouth to smother his cries as he turned away from his girl and forcefully barged his shoulder into Joe's as he walked past him. He reached out and swiped his beanie from the back of the sofa where he had tossed it earlier, pulling the material over his hair before he stormed out of the house. He didn't care that Joe had driven him down here, Ben didn't even look in the direction of the car as he started to walk down the gravel of the drive. His hands burrowed into his pockets as his shoulders rose up and his head bowed down.

Next time he wouldn't be able to let her go because each time he did, a piece of his heart died.

[canumoveurseatup-no]

Little Girls Like You pt.2

Summary: Your mother starts working from home for a while and that leaves less time for you and Tony to continue your rendezvous. One night you hear your mother and Tony going at it and it sparks something in you to get back at him

Pairing: Tony x Black!Reader

WC: 4.9K

Warnings: 18+!! a bit of angst, daddy kink, jealousy, crude language, age gap, oral (both receiving), unprotected sex (use protection guys!!)

A/N: You asked, I answered. Here is LGLY pt2 and I hope you enjoy. I’m also giving credit to @blackreaders-assemble because we bounced ideas for Stepdad!Tony off of each other. If you like this please leave feedback and reblog :)

You know you should have regretted what happened but you didn’t. Well, not until your mother told you two she would be working from home because the office was getting renovated. Tony didn’t pay much attention to you anymore and though what happened between you only happened once, you became attached.

It wasn’t until your mother started feeling all over him while she was home that you started to regret what happened. You should have known nothing would really come out of that night as he was practically your stepfather. You would sit quietly at dinner as they talked about the plans they made and you’d feel a bit of jealousy in your stomach that would take away your appetite. 

“Honey, what’s wrong? I made your favorite,” your mother smiled at you. Her sweet tone honestly threw you off as you two never had a good relationship anyway. You were surprised she knew what you favorite even was.

“Thank you, but I’m just not hungry,” you pushed your plate away, “I will take it to the library with me,” you could feel Tony looking at you but you avoided eye contact, you couldn’t let him know how you were really feeling.

You have been warned plenty of times by multiple people that you’d most likely become attached to the person you lose your virginity to, but you didn’t take heed to that warning.

“Library?,” your mom asked.

“Yes, Y/F/N likes to go late at night because there aren’t that many people there to distract them. They’re taking summer classes so I told them I’d keep them company,” you get up from the table and got a Tupperware bowl to put your food in and grabbed your phone and keys,

“Drive safely, please,” 

--------

The library wasn’t that bad. You checked out a book that you had started reading while Y/F/N studied. You came back around 12 at night and figured your mom and Tony would be asleep, but you were wrong when you started climbing the steps and heard your mother moaning and Tony groaning. 

Your shoulders sank as you entered your room and threw your book on your chair in the corner of your room. As you plugged your headphones into your phone, you felt sick as you heard him groaning her name and you immediately put your headphones on and blasted the loudest song on your playlist, knowing your ears would be ringing in the morning but it’d be better than having to hear what had been going on in the next room over.

-------

The next morning the house was quiet. Your music was still playing and your phone was about to die. You close your music off and plug your phone into the charger before getting out of bed to shower and get ready for work. You were hoping the two were out shopping or getting breakfast as you got ready, but your hopes were let down when you saw Tony sitting in his boxer briefs at the table while drinking his coffee and reading the newspaper.

You didn’t make eye contact as he spoke to you in a chipper tone, “Morning, Y/N/N,” 

You didn’t reply as you grabbed yourself a cup of oatmeal to take with you on the go, you grabbed a bottle of water and placed the two items in your bag.

“Your mother went to the store to get some things and told me to let you know to text her if you need anything,”

“I don’t need anything, I’m good and if I did I could just... dr-drive myself,” you stutter, still not looking at him as you search around the kitchen for your keys. You didn’t want to be late and you were getting worked up

“Here they are, baby,” Tony held up your keys and you looked at his finger that swung the ring around.

“Please don’t call me that,” you mumble as you head over to him to grab your keys but he snatches them away from you.

“Why not?,” he frowns, “You weren’t saying that a few weeks ago,”

“What happened a few weeks ago was a mistake. Now may I please have my keys so I can go to work and forget about this place for a few hours?,” you stomped your foot in frustration.

He grabbed your arm and that’s when you finally looked him in the eye, you couldn’t tell what vibe they were giving off, “Didn’t seem like a mistake then, now did it?,” 

“That was before I came in last night and heard you boning her,”

“You can’t seriously be mad at me for sleeping with your mother. We are together after all,” he furrowed his brows.

“That’s what makes the whole ordeal more of a mistake. I’m glad she is finally paying attention to you, Tony,” you snatched your keys and stormed out the front door, breathing heavily as you got in the car and drove away to get to work.

---------

“Who do I have to fight for making such a pretty face frown?,” you looked up from your desk at the physical therapy office and smiled, “Hey, Clint,” you hand him the clipboard to let him sign himself in, “How’s the arm?,”

“A lot better. Haven’t been needing to come as often. But back to you, why the long face?,”

You shrug and wave it off, “Just problems at home is all. Nothing too serious, I’ll get over it,”  

He smirks down at you and nods, “Well, since you’re back in town and on break, how about I take you out tonight to get your mind off of what’s happening?,”

He was a really cute guy, very sweet and quite comical and he’s older which is your type so you decide go for it, “Sounds like a date,” you smile at him and he tells you he’ll pick you up at 7.

“Actually, how about I pick you up. My mother doesn’t know I’m into a... more mature audience,”

Clint gives a hearty chuckle and nods in agreement, “You’re a grown ass woman, Y/N,” 

“You know how I am with my mother,” you shrugged and he just hummed in agreement.

“Well, you know my number and address,” He points to his file, “So just gimme a call when you’re on the way,” he winks at you and you give him a sure nod.

Tonight would be a good night to forget everything that has happened underneath that roof within the past few weeks.

---------

So you changed your mind and Clint was actually on his way to pick you up. Your mother and Tony had left for a date so you figured there wouldn’t be a problem with him coming to get you. You wore what you felt most comfortable in and just did your face up a tiny bit, not wanting to over do it.

You heard the doorbell ring and you grabbed your wallet and phone, rushing down the steps. You swung the door open and Clint stood in front of you with a happy smile.

“You look great,” you compliment

“Me? You look amazing!,” he handed you a small bouquet of your favorite flowers and you set them on table in the foyer.

“You really pay attention don’t you?,” you ask as you smile at the flowers.

“No, I had to ask almost everyone in the office to find out,” he admits.

“Smart move, Barton. So where are we headed?,” You close and lock the door behind you heading to his car. He opens the door for you and you get in and buckle yourself up as he shuts the door and jogs over to his side.

“Nice little place in the inner harbor,” he starts the car and starts driving away, “Just something nice to get your mind off things. There’s fireworks, drinks, dancing. Everything a little girl like you needs to relax,” he pats your thigh and your stomach jumps at the fact he referred to you as a little girl. Only one other person did that and that was the one person you were trying to rid your mind of.

————

You and Clint laughed under the fireworks as you danced and did horrible versions of the cotton eyed Joe and jitterbug. You threw your head back in laughter as alcohol flowed in your bloodstream. He pulled you close as you kept dancing.

You were having such a good time you didn’t want the night to end. The food you had was amazing, the sights were breathtaking, the people were beyond lovely it was just an overall great environment to be in right now. You kept thanking him for even caring enough to do this for you. 

“Take me home...,” you whisper against his lips, “And stay the night with me,”

He raised his brows in interest, “Ya sure?,”

“So sure,” you huffed, your lips softly met his and your wrapped your fingers around his next to pull him closer.

“O-okay. Okay let’s go,” he nodded. He took your hand in his and you two ran to the car like teenagers sneaking out of the house past curfew. Hearts pumping, smiles wide and adrenaline coursing through your veins.

He held the door open for you yet again and waiting until you were buckled up before he closed the door and ran around to his side. This is good for you right? It’s healthy? To be with someone else, someone who has no ties with you other than work.

Clint drove down the street and you could tell he wanted to speed but he realized he has you in the car and didn’t want to risk any lives tonight.

“You sure your parents won’t care you’re bringing someone like me over?,”

“Hmph,” you scoffed, “It’s just my mother and her boyfriend and they don’t quite matter. Plus when they go out for dates they stay out for almost the whole night. So we have more than enough time to ourselves. They’ll probably be too drunk to notice your car anyway,”

You turned your head to look at him with a sultry smirk and he just shook his head back at you, “You’re doing unspeakable things to me, baby,”

You put your tongue in between your teeth and smiled as you winked at him, “That’s just one of the many unspeakable things that will be happening tonight I guess, huh?,”

————

You two rushed out of the car and you were trying to rush and get your key in the keyhole so you could hurry to get inside and get a roll on tonight’s events.

Clint was kissing up and down your neck and running his hands all over your body when you finally got the door open. He pushed you inside and slammed the door behind him, turning you around and pinning you to the door. Leaving a trail of kisses from your neck down to your cleavage as you moaned out into the quiet foyer of the house.

“You sure your mom and her boyfriend won’t be back for a while?,” he asked to be certain.

“Please stop bringing them up. I told you they don’t matter,” you attached your lips to his as he picked you up to wrap your legs around his waist.

“Is that right?,”

The voice came from behind Clint and you two froze. You curse under your breath and braced yourself on his shoulders to make sure you wouldn’t hurt yourself when you dropped your legs. You looked over his shoulder to find Tony standing there in his night clothes with his glasses on.

“Figured you and mom would be gone,” you swallow heavily.

“Your mother got called in for a conference in Boston, so we came back early to find you gone and she told me to stay up to make sure you made it home safely and I see that... you have definitely made it home.. safely,” he eyes Clint up and down, “You can leave now,”

“W-What?,” You shrieked, “No, Clint you don’t have to go, he has no authority over me or this house,” you cut your eye at Tony and he raised an eyebrow.

“Is that right? So if I call the cops right now they wouldn’t mind acknowledging that this is also my residence now, correct?,”

You flared your nostrils at him and turned back to Clint, “I’ll call you tomorrow. I’m sorry,”

“Not your fault, baby doll,”

You smiled at him as he kissed you once more before leaving and shutting the door. You and Tony waited until he was out of the driveway to start talking again.

“So he can call you that but I can’t?,” Tony scoffs.

“He’s not dating my estranged mother. He also didn’t lie to me and tell me that the only reason why he sticks around in this household is because of me, so there’s that!,” you walk past him in the kitchen and practically rip the door open to the fridge to get a bottle of water.

“Y/N, stop acting like a child! That night wasn’t a mistake but I am dating your mother,” he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighs.

“It was a mistake,” you deadpan. Taking a sip of your water, you blink the small wave of tears away and roll your eyes.

“Why was it a mistake huh? Because that very night you were begging for it, telling me how much you loved it,”

“It was just a mistake, Tony. You’re right, you’re dating my mother but that doesn’t take it away. Didn’t change the fact that I’m jealous of that insufferable bitch who only pays attention to you when she’s free of conferences and isn’t needed at the office for a week or two and can work from home,”

“Don’t talk about your mother that way,” he comes to her defense and you become mind boggled.

“Wow,” you laugh bitterly, “Yeah you’re right. I apologize, I didn’t mean to talk about your precious Y/M/N like that,” you frown and play with the cap of your bottle, “I wish I could take that night back, I wish... I wish it never happened because then it would make it so much easier for these feelings to be overlooked. But it’s fine, I get it because you know... lucky for you, I’ve got all these daddy issues. I mean my own dad didn’t want anything to do with me. My mom is too fucking selfish to care about anything other than finance and business and she never really wanted a fucking child anyway so of course it makes sense,” you laugh at yourself and Tony just looks at you confused.

“What feelings, Y/N?” He tilts his head in question, “And of course your mother wanted you, what are you talking about?,”

You laugh out loud in his face and slap a hand on the counter, “Did she tell you that? Because that’s not what she told me,” you shook your head, “No no noooo. She told me she never wanted anything to do with children because she can’t stand them. She says children don’t do anything but hold their parents back... imagine telling a five year old that and having to grow up knowing your mother purposely drowned herself in work so she didn’t have to be anywhere near you,” you gave him a watery smile and Tony was confused about how you could be laughing in this moment.

“I mean she should really be thanking me, that’s how she got so many promotions, without me she wouldn’t have gotten that push, ya know?,” you shrug and look back in the fridge for something to snack on when you found a pudding cup.

“You can’t just lay all of that on someone and just act so casual, Y/N,” Tony was so perplexed by you. He thought your mom was confusing? It was a different story when it came to you.

“Yeah, I can. You can forget what I said just like you can forget everything that happened that night,” you scoop spoonful of pudding in your mouth.

“Is this because I was your first?,”

“That and because you’re my type. At first I thought I was just lusting after you because I hate my mom but then after a while I realized it was so much more than that. So much more.... then that night happened and I figured things were finally going my way but then she came back and had you wrapped around her finger all over again,”

“Y/N... what do you want me to do? I care about your mother-”

“Do you love her?,” you cut him off, you step closer to him and watch as he takes his glasses off

“Excuse me?,”

“I asked if you loved her. Does she make you feel wanted like I did?,” you take another step, “Make you feel like you’re the one thing that matters?,” another step closer.

“When you let her head rest on your chest and you close your eyes, is it her you see? Or is it my face you see? Is it me that crosses your mind?,”

Tony just stares as you, gnawing at the inside of his cheek as he thinks your questions through.

“Does she have any humor? Does she laugh at your jokes? Or is it none of my business?,” you arch a brow and smirk as you take yet another step and at this point you’re close up on him and whispering in his ear, “She doesn’t love you, like I do. She doesn’t have my name. She’ll never be the same because she is not me,”

You could hear Tony’s breathing and how he was trying to slow it down, he stared you down and turned to you, “And what about you, huh?,”

“Did you bring that man in here to make Daddy jealous?,” he crosses his arms and your bit your bottom lip as his intense glare made you feel small. 

“N-no,” you swallow and stand taller

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N,”

“I was... I was hoping I could have a night with him to forget our night. Find something new,” you shrug, “And if you just so happened to find out then so be it,” you shrug your shoulders and he grabs your face in his hand just like he did that very night after he slapped you and had you wanting more.

“But do you really wanna forget?,” he squeezed your cheeks harder and had you whining at the feeling, “Did you really wanna forget everything Daddy did for you that night? The way he made you feel good, and had you sore? Begging for me to cum in you? You knew what you were doing because you wanted me to be the one and only deep inside you,” his other hand had already pushed down your bottoms and was working circles into your clothed clit.

“So tell me, did you really want to forget?,” he smiles at you as you shake your head no.

“I just want mom out of the picture. I want her gone so I can have you all to myself,” you admit, “She wouldn’t be hurt, she would just be onto the next. She doesn’t care about you like I do, Daddy. She doesn’t make you feel things like I do and we both know it,”

 He clenched his jaw and picked you up to throw you over his shoulder and rush upstairs to your room. He threw you on the bed and you bounced on the mattress. Immediately undressing yourself as he did the same to himself, not taking his eyes off of you. Your pussy glistened back up at him like a body of water in the moonlight. 

He dropped to his knees and pulled you close to the edge of the bed. Wasting no time, he stuck his tongue out to flick your clit. You smile lightly at the feeling, getting more of what you’ve been wanting. He wraps his lips around your clit, sucking like he was trying to get the last of his drink out of a cup with a straw.

“Oh, God yes,” you spread your legs wider and he moved his head side to side while moaning against you, creating vibrations that rushed through your body. He lapped up your juices that flowed and started to drip, not wanting to lose a single drop. 

“Fuck,” he groaned to himself as he pushed two fingers in and you welcomed him as he was the one your body accommodated to. With his ring and middle finger pushed deep inside, he wrapped his other hand around your shaking thigh and watched as he finger fucked you and had you playing with your nipples and calling out for him in pleasure. 

“So fucking goooood,” sitting up a little and still flicking and pinching your nipples, you watched his fingers move in and out of you, covered in your glaze, you saw the way he watched your pussy with his mouth hung open, ready to lick up all that you had to offer.

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” your head fell back as you moved your hips against his fingers. He went harder and that was your undoing. Your hips bucked up as you tightened around his fingers. He attached his mouth back to your dripping pussy, trying to work another orgasm out of you. You could hear the sucking and slurping of his mouth and you bit you lip hard and threaded your fingers in his hair.

“Daddy, please, again please,” you were panting and he held your thighs apart. His face was buried deep and his moans were bouncing off the walls right with yours. 

“Cum for me like the good girl you are,” his voice was hoarse and he made eye contact with you as his tongue was swirling around your clit and inside of you.

“Shiiiit,” your legs shook in the air as you came for the second time that night, “Fuuck,” you sighed out and wiped your hairline from the small amount of sweat that had formed. 

Tony pulled you up and slapped your cheek, “Open. Take Daddy in just like the first time,” 

You had more of an idea what to do now. You took his cock in your hand and saw the way his tip was leaking, you loved how he wasn’t too big, but he was just the perfect size to fill you all the way up, whether it be your pussy or your throat. You sucked on the tip like your favorite blow pop and looked up at him from your spot on the bed. You pulled his cock up and attached your mouth to his balls, not quite sure knowing what you were doing but you felt like you were already bold as fuck tonight, so why not? You hollowed your cheeks as they moved around in your mouth and you had Tony’s legs shaking already. 

You flicked your tongue on the seam and he threw his head back, “Yes, baby,”

You pull back and wrapped your lips around his length and started bobbing your head, loving the way he fit in your mouth. He has this vein that sat perfectly at the bottom of his cock and you ran your tongue against it, making Tony whine like a puppy.

“Love that wet mouth,” he grabbed the back of your head and started moving a bit faster, making you gag against him, knowing he loved it. He loved the way your throat constricted against his head and he found himself grinding his teeth when it happened, His face turned red in pleasure as you stared up at him.He withdrew himself and caught his breath.

“Turn around, lay flat” He twirls his finger and you do as he says. You feel him climb on the bed behind you and you felt him slap his cock against the crease of your ass cheeks. He spreads your legs and runs his head against your soaking lips.

“At first you were just a brat, but now you’re a selfish brat so Daddy is gonna fuck you like one. You want Daddy all to yourself? That’s what you’re getting,”

He pushed into you and you both groaned out at the feeling of each other, “Nice and tight just like the first time,” he whispers in your ear as e starts to move faster. He held your cheeks apart as he watched himself fuck you and your juices cover him just like the first time. 

“Fuck, I love your pussy,” he slaps your ass cheek and fucked harder. You drop your head against your pillow and claw at the covers, 

“I love it when you fuck me like that, Daddy,” you look over your shoulder and look at the mesmerized look on his face as your walls took him and wrapped around him nice and tight. He leaned forward and braced his arms by your head and lifted himself up to start pistoling his cock into you at a different angle and faster pace. You pounded your feet against the bed at the pleasure and bit into the pillow to keep from screaming, only for him to rip it away, “No, let me hear you,”

You were moaning your head off, not caring how loud you were. He pulled out and flipped you over and kept your legs spread as he reentered you, making your eyes roll in the back of your head, “Daddy, I’m gonna cum agaaain,”

“Do it,” he huffed, “Look at you creaming all over my dick,” he smiled down at where you two met.

“Oh my God,” you peered up at him and smiled, loving the view of him taking you, “I’m a good girl, right Daddy?,” your innocent puppy dog eyes were shining back up at him and had his dick twitching in you, making him fuck you harder until you were cumming all over him again, “Daddy!,”

“There goes my good girl,” his body started to glisten with sweat and he had his tongue sticking out as he concentrated on pleasing you. The moment he makes eye contact is the moment you come undone again. Your juices gushed out against him, making you call for him over and over as you became overwhelmed at the sensation. He leaned down and bit your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth before letting it go to kiss you with all his might, tongue swirling, teeth clashing, moaning into each other’s mouths you closed your eyes as you felt yourself getting ready to cum yet again. You lost count on which number this would be, all that mattered was Tony. 

“It’s okay, just keep taking me like the good girl I know you are,”

You gasped for air as he just kept fucking it out of you, cumming again. Tony picks you up and puts you in his lap, fucking up into you. Chest to chest, you rest your head in the crook of his neck as he was chasing his own orgasm. His pelvis was rubbing up against you sensitive clit and you feel yet another wave coming in, “That’s right, baby girl. Cum all over Daddy’s cock again. You’re gonna make me cum so hard, baby,” he bit into your shoulder as he leaned back a bit to thrust at a different angle. 

At this point you were overwhelmed and were trying to keep from crying out. You were being turned out and you weren’t sure if you wanted it to stop or not. Tony kept kissing all over you as he whispered in your ear, “You’re fucking soaking. It feels so good. I’m about to cum so deep in that little pussy of yours,”

You wrap your arms around him tighter and scream for him, “Fuck, Daddy. Y-you feel so good, it’s too much,” you were shaking and whimpering on top of him but he just kept going. He pushes you back down and just when you think he’s about to slow down, he plays you and goes faster, knocking the wind out of you, you’re begging him to slow down because it’s so much, “I can’t take iiiit,”

“I told you I was fucking you like the selfish brat you were,” you moans into your ear and pins your hips down, going harder, making you scratch down him back and wrap your legs around him. You’re completely fucked out and can barely see straight as the tears of pleasure put a film over your eyes. Tony laughs at you and starts giving you long, deep strokes, “Fuck, princess. You’re so fucking wet and tight for me,” 

“Daddy is turning you out and you can’t even handle it. I thought you wanted me all to yourself?,” He sucked and bit all over your neck, leaving marks and admiring them

“I do!,” 

He wraps his hand around your throat as he pace starts to falter, “Then take Daddy’s cum,” his eyes start to flutter as he feels his climax coming fast.

“Leave her!,” you call out and tighten your walls around him “That’s what I want you to do. Cum deep in this pussy and leave her,” 

“Okay, Yes! fuck yes, baby,” he grinds his hips into and you feel him fill you up, his moans fill up the room and you feel once last orgasm wash over you, leaving you both calling out for each other. 

Tony falls over you and kisses the marks he left on your neck and you run your hands through his hair.

“Leave that guy alone and I’ll leave her,” Tony catches his breath and runs his thumb over your softening nipple, “And don’t ever try to bring another man in this house,”

“Yes, Daddy,”

----------

WHEW, I just... love Tony omfg. I hope you guys enjoyed this part just ask much! if you do please don’t forget to leave feedback and reblog :)

Tags- @mbaku-babygirl @vozit @babybubastis @yournonlocalpoc @chonisberonica @majikmelanin @blowmymbackout @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @spideys-wife @mokacoconut @livayah @mirajanestrauss1999 @curlyhairclub @fromlia-withlove @sideeffectsofyou @crawlingnightmares @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes @whothehellisbinky @scarletlingeries @misstoryunfolded @thevanishedillusion @whorderofthepheonix 

[plaidamoosette]

Stay With Me

E2 Harry Wells x Reader 

"Harry! He's got a gun!" 

"Stay with me y/n, I'm here, just stay with me." 

"Damnit y/n breathe! Please!?"

A/N: This was requested by @but-my-tongue-is-a-wepon, thank you for this! Sorry for my absence as a writer, I hope this makes up for it darling.

It was as if the whole world had come to a halt. The room’s temperature dropped, and Harry’s heart shot up into his throat. Beads of sweat gathered at his hairline as he felt his body jerk forward, almost as if he had lost control of himself.

Suddenly, he was on his knees, his shaking hands wrapping behind your limp shoulders, holding your head up, the other clamping down over the angry wound that was quickly seeping with blood from your chest.

Words failed him in that moment as something cold trickled up his spine, raising the hairs on his arms. Fear. Absolute and unquestionable fear.

The whole scene played over again and again in his mind.

“Harry! He’s got a gun!” Cisco had yelled from his lab in the Cortex.

But Harry was too slow, by the time he turned his head, the gunshot had already gone off, and he flinched. But not because the bullet had hit him. No, it was because you were standing in front of him, arms outstretched, welcoming the attack.

“No, stay with me Y/N, I’m here, please just stay with me!” Harry choked, repeating the phrase until he could voice it properly, his throat tight and hoarse and he shook your body again, snapping back to the present.

The man who had fired the gun was on the ground, Barry stood behind him and was already picking him up, with Joe joining him, pulling out a pair of cuffs that would ensure the Meta couldn’t use his powers.

Your eyes were open, staring past Harry’s shoulder, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes. Harry shakes you once, and then again, before laying you on the ground, tearing his shirt off and pressing it onto the wound.

“Snow! Snow, help her!” Harry sobs, yet no tears left his eyes. He suddenly felt hot-- searing with rage. He tied the shirt around you as best he could, and began compressing on your chest as Caitlin tumbled to the ground next to him.

“We need to get her onto the gurney, now!” Caitlin shouts, grabbing Harry’s shoulder and pulling him away. Harry resisted.

“Im here, please just breathe Y/N, please!” Harry growls, and Caitlin pulls at him again, this time, Cisco joining her. 

“Come on, man, let her do her job,” Cisco mutters, and Harry goes numb, sitting back on his heels as Caitlin and Cisco raise your body, laying you on the gurney and rushing you to the lab.

Everything sounded far away as Harry jumped up to follow, his heart pounding heavily in his ears.

“Cisco, grab those bandages and tape down the wound while I set this up,” Caitlin spoke so fast she was almost inaudible, and the man quickly did as he was told.

Harry hovered back, his every instinct tell him to grab your hand, to yell, to do something, but instead he stayed against a wall,  crossing one arm over his chest, the other running through his hair frantically.

Cisco peeled away Harry’s soiled shirt, and then grabbed a large pair of scissors to cut away your shirt, cramming wads of gauze over the hole and taping it over while Caitlin rolled out the defibrillator.

The woman adjusted the settings, attaching wires and pads to your unconscious body, before snatching up the paddles. A high pitch whir screeches and the room goes silent. 

“Cisco, clear.” Caitlin commands, and Cisco jumps back, clearing the way as the woman presses one paddle over your chest, and the other on your side. 

Caitlin counts down, and then presses the buttons, a jolt forcing your body to jump. She puts the paddles back and begins compressions again, forcing air into your lungs, before grabbing the paddles again.

Harry’s heart pounded harder than ever, the color draining from his face. He felt sick.

"Damnit y/n breathe! Please!?" Harry cries, running over to the table, brushing your hair back and keeping your head tilted. His own breath hitched in his throat.

“Clear!” Caitlin shouts again, and both Cisco and Harry move back before she administers a final shock, your body jumping again.

A small cough bursts from your lips, and your eyes blink. Your mouth gapes open, and you choke and sputter, dribbles of blood leaking out the corners of your mouth, back arching into the air.

“Her lung’s collapsed!” Caitlin shouts as she runs over to the cabinets, pulling out a very large, very deadly looking needle.

Harry runs his thumbs over your cheeks and mouth, wiping away the fluids, your eyes wide and full of panic. 

“It’s okay, I’m here, I’m here, just stay with me, please. Stay with me,” he whispers, and Caitlin smacks on a pair of gloves, ripping open an alcohol wipe.

She cleans the area under your ribs, on the side with the bullet wound, and then peels the needle from it’s packaging. 

“This will hurt, and it’ll be hard to watch,” she mutters before pressing one hand against your ribs, the other forcing the thick, hollow needle into your skin, pushing it as far as it would go. 

She tugs at the end, and it hisses. Your chest lurches for a moment, and a sudden gust of air rushes in as the immense pressure is lifted.

It was as if you had an elephant sitting on your chest, keeping you from catching the air you so desperately needed. Your temples throbbed and your vision speckled with black dots.

And suddenly, despite the piercing pain of the needle entering you, the cool air that finally rushed down your throat was almost euphoric.

You cough again, and a bit of blood stains your lips.

Finally, real tears fall from Harry’s eyes, dripping onto your forehead as he lowers himself, kissing where his tears landed.

“I thought I lost you,” he whispers, and you shake your head.

“You... can’t-rid...me-that...easy,” you gasp, your voice almost inaudible.

“It’s not over yet, we have to patch her up. I’ve got it from here, Harry.,” Caitlin rests a hand on his shoulder, “you go help take care of the Meta.” 

Harry bites his lip, and then shakes his head.

“I’m staying with her. I’ll stay out of the way.”

Caitlin sighs, and then nods, before taking the same scissors and cutting away the remaining fabric. Cisco takes his leave, probably to join Barry and Joe to deal with the Meta.

Harry wanted to kill that man... that same burning rage bubbled up in his chest, but he managed to suppress it. He steeples his fingers, resting his chin on his thumb, his other fingers pressing against the tip of his nose, his teeth snaring his bottom lip.

It takes Cailtin several hours to properly clean and patch the wound. Because of where the bullet was lodged, she didn’t want to remove it. She administered a drug to you to make you sleep while she did her work, wrapping you up in a hospital-like gown.

She sticks a few patches to your chest and sides, and then wraps a breathing tube around your face, before finally removing the hollow needle.

“She’ll stay unconscious for a few more hours. When she wakes, don’t let her sit up. I’m going to go check on the others,” Caitlin mumbles, snapping off the gloves and tossing them into the trash.

Harry nods his head. “Thank you, Caitlin.” He rises to his full height, dragging his chair over to the bed, the rhythmic beeping of your heart rate on the monitor echoing in his ears.

He carefully clasps your small, cold hand in his, bringing it to his lips, and then to his own forehead, a sigh of relief escaping his lips, before the tears started again.

“Damn you woman-- I though I lost you,” he sobs, his voice thick. “Why did you jump in front of that bullet?”

“Cause I... love you... asshole,” you mumble through the heavy grogginess. 

“Don’t you ever do that again, Y/N. I’m supposed to be your hero-- it’s my job to take the bullet for you. That’s what I promised you, didn’t I, Mrs. Wells?”

“It was... a mutual ag...agreement...” You sigh, your head lolling to the side. Your eyes flutter as you try to stay awake, but the drugs consume you into a restless slumber.

Harry couldn’t help but huff out a laugh, wiping his eyes. He gently twists and fiddles with the ring on your left finger, his heart swelling with warmth, before it was snuffed out.

He was angry-- angry at you, furious with the Meta who hurt you, enraged with himself... but mostly thankful. Thankful for the friends you both shared, thankful for you, his wife, and thankful for air that wheezed out of your poor, damaged body.

He had so many emotions running through his head, he felt sick. Love, anger, hatred, fear, relief, exhaustion.

He kisses your hand again, resting his head on the bed beside your hip, a dull pain throbbing at his temples.

                                    __________________________________       

“Apparently his name is Edward Killian. He used to work here, before the explosion. He was always quiet, under the radar. Damn near invisible to everyone but Harrison, according to Caitlin and Cisco. When the Particle Accelerator exploded, he became a Meta. Got the powers to turn invisible. I guess he finally caught wind that Harry was ‘alive,’ and wanted to exact his revenge.” Barry explains, his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the wall of the room, looking down at you. 

Large bags sat under your eyes, and you barely had the strength to nod your head. It had only been a day since the incident.

“Oh the wrong Wells, though. He was wanting Evil Wells... Eo-Wells...Harry-Bard Thawles?” Cisco ponders the name, and Caitlin smacks his shoulder.

“That’s how he was able to sneak in undetected. And if you hadn’t stopped the bullet, it would’ve been a perfect bullseye to Harry’s head.” Barry ignores him, and you nod again, squeezing Harry’s hand with as much strength as you could muster.

“But Joe’s got him locked up, he’s being held in Iron Heights for now. We’ve managed to convince him to keep his mouth shut about Harry, but there’s no avoiding what he did to you,” Barry steps up and pats your foot, “so rest easy for now, okay?”

“Thank you, Barry,” you croak, and flash him a smile.

He leaves the room, and soon the others trickle out as well, leaving only you and Harry. The man hadn’t left your side, and he looked absolutely exhausted. Barry had brought him a shirt, and your heart monitor had betrayed you when you woke up to see his naked torso before he tugged the clothing over it.

“Go get some rest, Hon, I’ll be fine,” you whisper, and the man shakes his head.

“I’m fine.” He grumbles.

You furrow your brows and shoot him a glare. “I wasn’t asking.”

Harry chews his lips, and then scoffs, before standing up, stretching as he did.

“I’m glad to see you’ll never lose that feisty attitude of yours,” he chuckles, making his way to the door. “Just... stay there. Sleep.”

“I’m never leaving you, Harry.” You raise your voice, but it cracks as you do.

“I wouldn’t allow you to either way,” the man grins, his dazzling blue eyes causing your heart to stutter a beat, before he disappears down the hall.

You release a breath, rubbing your eyes, and pulling the blanket further up to your chin, settling into the not-so-comfy mattress. Your body felt unbelievably heavy, and it didn’t take long for you to pass out, you mind drifting off into dreams of Harry.

His messy hair, his constant pacing, his frown... and that smile that only you could see.

Thank you for reading! Please like, share, and comment, and feel free to send more requests!

[incoherentbabblings]

First Date (1/9)

Tim has one more test to pass before Bruce will allow him out as Robin. Like Dick and Jason before him, he has to avoid being caught by Batman for one night. He has already failed once, and is determined to succeed this time. Determination which might not count for much when Stephanie Brown is on the run from the mob. Her mother kidnapped as a way to threaten her father, Stephanie manages to escape and run into Tim. Unable to leave Stephanie alone when she is in need, Tim decides to try and multi-task. All he has to do is rescue Stephanie’s mother, take down the mob, avoid Batman, and get Stephanie to agree to a proper date all in one night. Absolute anarchy ensues.  Ao3 link here!

This is 100% inspired by the First Love (2019) Trailer.  I didn't know the plot when I started writing so it's purely the premise of girl being chased by the mob and the bloke getting drawn into the mess cause he's head over heels for the girl... seems as good a place to start as any. The film looks absolutely bonkers so I wanted to try and capture that energy in a story. God knows if I succeed. Everyone is a little bit older than they otherwise were in the comics. I have no excuse.

Tim tried not to stare too long at the Robin costume behind the glass panels.  Batman was stomping down the cave stairs behind it, heading in Tim’s direction.  He was currently slumped at a desk, fiddling with small explosives.

The final test began in three hours, and Tim was so nervous he felt like he was about to give birth to a brick.

Avoid Bruce from eight at night until eight in the morning.  That was all.  A demented game of hide and seek; stop any (small) crime that you came across that night but avoid being pointed out by or grabbed by the Bat. No costume, no equipment, just you and the clothes on your back and feet.

Dick had managed it, Jason had too.

Tim was on his second go.

The first time he had fumbled simply because he was not fast enough.  He had managed until three in the morning.  Squatting in an abandoned building in the narrows, he had stopped to eat a breakfast bar and take a piss.

It had not ended well.

So, six months later, endless missions as Batman and Oracle's mission control plus one and at least sixty lessons on improving reflexes, he was getting a second shot.

He had been told under no circumstances would there be a third.  If he failed this, Robin was dead (in every way that mattered).

Dick was optimistic to Tim’s face, happily offering advice and a change of teacher whenever Tim could manage visiting New York.   However as far as Tim knew he had not vouched for a second shot to Bruce himself.  Dick still would not step foot in Gotham if he could help it.  His relationship with Bruce, something Tim had given himself the task of starting the restoration of, was still very strained.  Jason’s costume in the glass case hung over everyone like the dead elephant in the room.  Always present, always in sight, always inescapable.

No, the push for a second go had come from Barbara.  Tim enjoyed spending time with her.  She was sardonic in her wit, but patient in her teaching.  Sometimes it was reassuring, sometimes it was patronising.  She had a level head and a gentleness about her that somehow reminded Tim of his mother (little he got to spend significant amounts of time with before she kicked the bucket).

Maybe he was projecting.

His brain wandered, thinking of what a Gotham psychiatrist would make of him.  Nothing good probably.  What sixteen-year-old signs up for what he signed up for?  What he pushed for?  If Bruce and Dick had had their way, none of this would be happening.  Tim’s stubbornness appeared pathological.  He titled his head, wondering if he was being cruel by pushing Robin back into the lives of people who had wanted to leave it behind.  He briefly realised that he was acting on the assumption that he knew how best to handle the emotional state of two grieving men than they themselves did.

Although, thinking of Dick and Bruce’s emotional processing capabilities, perhaps Tim did know better.

He frowned and pressed his lips together, hands still fiddling with the small explosives that he would not be allowed to take with him tonight.  So lost in his own head he only realised he was glaring disgustedly at Bruce until Batman coughed loudly.  Tim started, fingers fumbling over the bomb’s trigger.

“I wasn’t staring at you.”  Tim said pitifully.

“Clearly.”

Tim had no response and looked down at the tiny bombs.  They couldn’t do much damage, they stung more like a paintball pellet when they exploded.  Enough to make you wince and potentially fall over, weak enough to avoid any real damage apart from your suffering ear drums and bruises from the popped shell.

“Where’s my starting point this time?”

Batman looked at the time: 7pm.  One hour until kick-off.

“Wayne Tower” he said.  “Fifteen-minute head start, then I will set out from here.  Be back at Wayne Tower any time after eight, but before nine tomorrow morning. Don't think you can squat there all night.  You'll lose in less than half an hour.”

Easy.

Nodding, Tim stood up and pulled away from the table.  He still held on to one bomb with his right hand, thumb rubbing anxiously against the sphere.

“I won’t fail this time.” He swore.

Bruce said nothing, and there was no movement of his mouth to indicate any other sort of reaction.  Tim felt himself internally slump.  Bruce had no faith in him.  He’d always known that, and logically he understood the reasoning.  It didn’t mean that it still didn’t sting a little.

“Your father understands you won’t be home tonight?”

“Yeah, I’m covered.”

Ives was the cover.  He hadn’t intruded too much into why Tim was sneaking out all night, but felt naughty enough to agree to lie to Jack in case enquired further.  It wasn’t the most solid of plans, but Tim also knew that his father barely checked on him as is.  Too lost in his own head to notice what his son was up to.

“Good.” Batman held out a small device.  “Take this.  If you need help or want out, switch this on.  I’ll be able to find you then.”

Tim stared at it for a moment, then rather reluctantly took it.  “It’s not on already is it?  Not much of chance tonight if this is already tracking me.”

Batman was unamused.  “It switches on when you switch it on.”

Tim’s awkward smile fell and he nodded, pocketing it.

“See you tomorrow morning then.”  He joked, laughing with a confidence he wasn’t sure he felt.

Bruce just grunted and went to turn away.  Tim exhaled heavily, gnawing on his lip, when his thumb snapped a small knob on the bomb.  He looked down, realised he had just triggered it, and squeaked.

The thing popped in his hand with such a loud bang that it disturbed the bats above, screeching and rustling.  One of them proceeded to take a massive crap which plopped down between Tim and Batman.  Swearing loudly, he flapped his hand quickly back and forth, trying to cool down the burn.  Bruce had turned at the sound, then stared at the pile of bat waste on the metal floor.  His gaze moved up, and watched Tim make a fool of himself.  Not one ounce of emotion was shown on his face.  Tim smiled, eyes wet with the sting.

“This is fine.”  Tim said.

“Is it?”

“Yup.  Peachy.”  Tim whistled and winced and buried his hand between his thighs, trying to elevate the sting.  Bent in half, head near the floor, he choked out a polite goodbye, wishing for Bruce to just leave him in his humiliation.

When he finally gathered the courage to look up, he saw that Bruce was gone.  Smacking his head repeatedly, he slumped away to his red car, sidestepping the bat poo that Alfred would inevitably have to clean.

A great start to a great evening for sure.

Tim parked around four blocks down from Wayne Tower, a multi-storey which smelt of piss, alcohol, weed and assortment of other nose wrinkling things.  It was around the block from the hospital, so was not used for much outside of frantic potential patients and their visitors.

Slowly he made his way down the stairs, hopping past a passed-out chap hanging over the railings.  Coming out onto the overwhelmingly busy street, he began to make his way to Wayne Tower.

He had a rough game plan.  One that, in hindsight, was not detailed enough.  First time round he had made the mistake of planning out his every move, to which once Batman had figured out that plan, tracking Tim down was easy-peasy.  No, this time, he was going to (Night)wing it.

He was going to stay low initially, stay amongst the crowds of central Gotham for as long as it was busy and as long as Batman needed to stay out of sight from the average Joe.  He’d worn bland clothing to try and blend in.  Black sneakers, black jeans, some plaid shirt and a red light jacket.  A backpack had nothing but the absolute essentials in them.  He’d been refused any tools to help him, but food, drink and money was allowed.  He’d left his phone behind, and the tracker Batman had given him was zipped in an inside pocket.

The city’s churches rang out that it was eight o’clock, and it was go time.

He took in a deep shaky breath, rolled back his shoulders, and left the tower grounds.

***

Stephanie knew she had her pissy face on.  It matched her insides, which were churning in a such a rage she had developed heartburn.

If she threw up, she begged it would be after she got off the bus.  And in front of the hospital.

Her mom had insisted on her coming to pick her up from work.  Her mother’s shift ended at eight, and there Steph was on her way to collect her mother.

A lone seventeen-year-old girl travelling in the dark on public transport.

Bad enough for any city.

But in Gotham?

Stephanie wondered if her mother was trying to get rid of her.

She knew she had enough of an angry expression that no-one dared sit near her for fear she would start ragging on their very existence.  Or throwing up on their feet.  Depended how awful the heartburn got.

Headphones in playing no music and sneering at nothing, she silently stewed the whole journey into Gotham City Centre.

Upon arrival outside the hospital, she waited for her mother to emerge.

Crystal stumbled out into the early autumn air, wearing probably a thicker coat than was necessary.  On her feet were her white slip-ons, but she had changed into what appeared to be her pyjamas.

Stephanie inspected Crystal as she shuffled over.  “What’s with the jammies?”

Her mother ignored her.  “Need to head to the pharmacy.”

Curling her lip, Stephanie shook her head.  “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?  It’s eight at night?  I’ll go to the one round the corner first thing in the morning for you before you wake up.”

Her mom didn’t seem to hear her.  “I’m all out.  I won’t sleep unless I got something to knock me down for the night.”

Seeing how uncooperative she was being, Stephanie snapped as her. “Weren’t able to grab some spares from the cupboards?  You know the in-house ones won’t give anymore so you—”

“That’s enough Stephanie!” Her mother whirled and grabbed her hand, pulling her down the street.  “I am in pain after a nightmare shift.  I don’t need you to have a go on top of everything.”

Guilt flooded Stephanie, and she shut up.  She reminded herself that she couldn’t be responsible for her mother’s sobriety and tried to let it go.  She twisted in her mother’s grip until she could hold Crystal’s hand. Her mother twined their fingers together, holding tight.  All was forgiven.  Conflict avoided.

“…We got through another scene of Hamlet today.”

“Oh?  Enjoying being Ophelia?”  Crystal asked, staggering slightly, the pain in her back slowing the pair down considerably.

“It’s fun… kinda.  Though, she doesn’t even have that much to say or do in the end.”

“No… most of Shakespeare’s tragedies don’t give much to the women.”

“Lady Macbeth and Juliet aside.”

“Hmm.  The comedies are better anyway.”

And so, they talked, slowly making their way through the centre of the city, hunting for the one pharmacy that a) was open after eight and b) was within walking distance of their bus stop route.

Gotham was noisy and bright tonight, many staggering people yelled and fell over into the road, but most of them were laughing or from having a good time.  The neon signs for assorted bars, restaurants, clubs and shops were garish more than welcoming, but Stephanie liked it all the same.  The city was alive, though down each dark alley uncomfortable smells and sights ensured both women kept deliberately facing forward.  A humdrum of the city came out at night, especially after twelve.  That was when the Bat would appear, and all hell would break loose.  Stephanie and her mother lived far enough out in the crappy suburbs to avoid the hellish events from places like the Narrows from spilling over, but that didn’t mean they had escaped what the city could be unscathed.

For example, Stephanie’s father - Crystal’s husband - hadn’t come home in nearly two weeks now.

Stephanie cared, if only because she didn’t know why and/or where he was.  Maybe he was dead, lost in a shoot out and stuffed down the sewers.  Maybe he was cooking up another awful plan to get more money, hurting who knows how many people in the process.

Stephanie didn’t love or care for her father, but she did care about the consequences of his actions on others, on Gotham.

On her mother.

They arrived at a pharmacy which looked rather empty inside, save for three blokes staring at the condoms and lube in one corner.  Crystal took one look at them and asked for Stephanie to wait outside.  Reluctant, but not wanting to fight with her mother more that evening, Stephanie nodded, and lingered under a lamp.  She plugged her headphones back in and stared in the shop window, eyes following her mother.

She watched as Crystal pulled a prescription from her purse at the counter.  A very tired and out of it looking pharmacist glanced at it, then glanced at Crystal, then glanced back at the paper, and finally back to Crystal.  They heaved such a sigh it was like they carried the weight of the world, and then moved out back to fill a bottle.  Her mother’s haggard appearance, making her look older than her age of 42, was in part due to endless cigarettes, as well as the alcohol and drug abuse.  The pharmacist no doubt recognised it, but just wanted to do their job and get Crystal out of the store.

Stephanie ignore the sound of some pervert wolf whistling her from some bar across the road and glared as one of the three condom buying men turned and did a double take at the sight of Crystal.  He repeatedly smacked his friend on the arm, not so subtly grabbing his attention.  The third guy listened to the pair as they talked, watching with no subtlety the woman waiting for her painkillers.

Feeling a drop of fear, Stephanie went to walk in the shop, praying that faced with two woman, one that could kick and punch and bite particularly hard, the men wouldn’t try anything.  The third man noticed her before she entered, and pointed with an exaggerated stupidity, like he was an old friend of hers and it was some inside joke, some usual greeting between the two.

She jerked to a stop, instead blurting out a call for her mother.

Crystal turned, frowning, when Stephanie saw them men pull out guns.

She shrieked, and the second man turned his gun on her, and shot above her head, firing through the open door.

Stephanie fell to the ground, then scrambled up.  The man had deliberately missed her, so frightening her must have been the aim.  Beyond that, she was lost at their motives.  She didn’t recognise those men, and neither did her mother it seemed, who was kicking up a storm, screeching and twisting and kicking as the other two men grabbed her.  The moment one of them put his pistol on her temple, she froze, and looked for Stephanie out the corner of her eye.  The pharmacist had seemingly hidden away in the back once the sound of shots had been made.

Stephanie tried to rush into the store to help, partially sure that the men wouldn’t do any serious damage to her, when another fired bullet grazed her thigh, shattering the store window.  She collapsed from the pain, and looked down as her leg began to run red.

The man wasn’t trying to miss, he was just a shit shot.

With a bleeding leg, a mother in danger of being shot in the head, and three men with guns ready to hurt or kill her, Stephanie freaked.

She began screaming hysterically, and a crowd had begun to gather at the spectacle.  No police presence appeared, and no-one intervened.  Drunken jeers came from the side, but no-one helped Stephanie to her feet or to check on her injury.  Three incompetent men with guns were somehow a greater threat then three competent ones to the general public.  Stephanie and Crystal were strangers to these people, and not something risking their life over.

Her mother was dragged out the shop and into a nearby car mounted on the curb, not resisting and limp with fear.  Once she was inside, two of the men turned for Stephanie, but she had managed to pull herself to her feet.  Still screaming, although with rage this time instead of fear, she body slammed one to the ground, doing a roly-poly on top of him.  Her leg burned in agony, but she managed to pull herself up to standing.  She began to sprint as best she could away, heading back towards the hospital.  She had to treat her leg first.

With what money? Eh.

And then what?

She didn’t really have the presence of mind to think chronologically or logically about her situation.  Her left leg gave way every time her foot slammed into the concrete ground, and she flinched and screamed every time a shot rang out until she was so far down the street she was out of range.

That didn’t stop them however, as the car drove away, one of the men gave chase to Stephanie, seemingly sure he could run down an injured teenage girl.

She managed to turn the corner onto a large avenue, the hospital just one more block down.  Wayne Tower, in all its fancy glory, stood watch at the far end.  Her leg gave out then, and she crashed into a streetlamp.  She called for help again as she saw the man gaining on her.  She went to push off the pole, but she collapsed in a heap on floor.  She rolled onto her back, groaning.  Most people gave her a wide berth as she stared at the man only a few feet away now.  One or two hadn't moved out of the way, probably from confusion more than anything.  The man pushed several of them out of the way.

Abruptly, and with as much strength as a brick wall, a boy in front of her held his arm out, and punched the man straight in the face.

The man actually whirled up and down, legs up in the air at odd angles, arms contorted strangely as he had stopped at such a speed and with such force.  His head thumped against the ground, and with that the man pursuing Stephanie was passed out cold on the street.  She felt herself squeak at the man now lying on the floor next to her.

The boy quickly removed the gun from his hand, emptying it of bullets and scattering them on the street.  People were staring again, but didn’t say or do anything aside from a passing comment here and there of, “Hey is that guy passed out?”

Stephanie tried not to flinch as the boy knelt in front of her, but she couldn’t help it as he looked at her bleeding leg. He went to touch it, to which Stephanie cried out, and slapped him hard across the face.

The boy lost his balance from the force of the slap but managed to hold his hands up in deference whilst looking at the floor submissively.  He was trying to make himself as small and nonthreatening as possible.  A difficult task to achieve when faced with a bleeding, sweaty, crying girl lying on the floor.

“I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.  I just wanted to check on it.  Should I get you to the hospital? It’s not far from –”

“I know where it is!   Where do you think I was running?”

Her sharp interruption didn’t seem to offend him, instead it seemed to amuse him.

“Yeah.  Sorry.  Sorry.”

He finally looked at her then, and Stephanie felt her heart stutter for a reason other than fear.  He also seemed gobsmacked for some reason, and his gaze made her squirm.

Darnnit.

“My name’s Tim.”  He finally offered, smiling like a dork who hadn't just one punched a gang member.

Shit.  He was cute.

Her stomach rolled abruptly, and Tim watched as she turned faintly green, growing concern on his soft face.  Her heartburn apparently had had enough of this evening, but she managed to turn her head to the side in time for her to vomit all over the street.  Some woman cried out, stumbling away and fell into the gutter, heels flying off comically.  Someone muttered, "Jesus Christ".  Stephanie and Tim couldn't care less.  He reached out and stroked her hair, far too familiar for someone he had just met and watched puke.  Stephanie found she actually quite liked it.  

A moment's pause, and Stephanie turned back over onto her back.  Someone shouted about how disgusting she was, and the blood oozing from her leg was starting to flow upwards on the uneven ground, mixing in with the brown stinky vomit.  There were carrot chunks from the soup she'd microwaved earlier slipping down a storm drain.  Her mother had just been kidnapped.  Stephanie had been shot in the leg.  She had bits of puke stuck in her hair and teeth and now her breath smelt really bad.

Her mother had just been kidnapped.  Stephanie had been shot.  In the leg.

Tim was grinning at her as if she were a million dollars.  She smiled dreamily.

“…Hi Tim.”