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schrijverr · 1 year ago

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It Just Hits Different When It’s Batman

5 times a League member heard Batman use slang + 1 time they knew where the fuck he got it from.

This fic is based off this post by @wednesday-if-it-was-tuesday bc it was just too good! Hope you don't mind :D

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none

~~~~~

1. Flash

Barry is pretty sure he has to get his hearing checked as he speeds through a city, trying to find a series of bombs, courtesy of a new alliance of villains. He and Batman are on bomb duty, thus sharing a private com line as to not distract the others or be distracted as they coordinate.

However, Barry is very much distracted by his own partner in this whole mess, because unless he’s gotten a few too many hits to the head in recent years, he’s pretty sure Batman just reported: “The bombs look like yassified thermos flasks.”

“What?” Barry chokes, nearly tripping over his own feet as he does.

Batman doesn’t seem to notice, instead explaining the bomb, not his wording: “The casing looks to be made from plastic, likely to escape Superman’s notice. Start checking water pipes, I found this one near a toilet. I’ll report again once I figure out how to disarm it.”

Okay, questing his sanity later, finding bombs, now.

So he zooms off again, having to agree with the fact that the bomb does look like a yassified thermos flask. He wonders if he can use that in his report or if Batman will scold him for language. He has worked with the man for long enough that he knows Batman isn’t above hypocrisy.

Then he wonders again if he even heard it right. In the heat of battle, the brain sometimes does weird things, especially when someone thinks at the speed of light. Or faster.

He’ll put it out of his mind for now, maybe tell Hal about it just so he’ll have someone to share the bizarre experience with.

Clark probably has a thesaurus, he should probably also find a synonym for yassified. Does a thesaurus have slang too?

2. Green Lantern

It’s true that Barry had told him about Spooky saying yassified in that one battle, but Hal hadn’t truly believed that Bats was capable of something like that. I mean, look at him. The guy might be a weirdo who dresses up as a Bat, but he’s not a weirdo who says shit like yassified.

However, at the moment it is starting to look more and more likely. Fuck, Barry is gonna give him so much crap for not believing him.

The moment in question is Batman working with him on the stealth mission. It’s one for the Green Lantern Corps, so Batman is doing him a favor. Though Hal is starting to wish that he hadn’t done him that favor, because Batman has just said: “It looks like Luthor is being thristy for Superman again. For someone who hates the guy, he sure wants his attention a lot. That’s Kryptonian honing device.”

Hal doesn’t react, still thinking about the fact that he’s just heard Luthor, thirsty and Superman in one sentence. In Batman’s voice no less.

“What?” he says.

“A Kryptonian honing device,” Batman repeats, sounding as if he thinks Hal is stupid, not uncommon. “So he can hone in on Superman, find him. Something we need to do something about.”

Hal decides to take the smart way out and lets the whole thing drop in favor of focusing on the mission. He’s not just telling Barry, but Ollie about this as well.

3. Cyborg

Being in the Justice League isn’t much different than being on the Teen Titans. Like right now, being in a building that could explode at any moment unless he hacks into the system and stops that from happening.

Ah, good old life-threatening pressure.

Batman is fighting some of the goons in the background. They’re on their own here, with the others fighting through an army outside to get to them. But it’s mostly up to them. Batman yells: “Cyborg, status.”

“I’m getting through, but something is bugging me about this whole thing,” Victor calls back. “I think there is someone I’m missing that will allow me to crack this.”

There are a few grunts in the background as Batman fights on, while Victor starts to scan through everyone who worked for the organization, trying to find the missing link.

He is interrupted by Batman, who says: “I took a tour here once. There was an intern, Kyle Paulson, he was kind of sus. Look him up.”

For a second, Victor is thrown by the sus in that sentence, but he quickly focuses back on what’s important. Indeed finding Kyle to be the missing link that gets him to disarm the bomb. While Batman is taking out the last of the bad guys.

In fact, the whole thing slips his mind until he’s writing his mission report, going through the footage to get accurate information in there. Then he pauses again, before dismissing it. Those who trained under Batman are always prepared, maybe it’s not slang but shorthand to be useful in the moment. Or he’s trying to include him, sweet, though unnecessary.

Victor puts it out of his mind.

4. Green Arrow

Ollie doesn’t believe Barry or Hal for a second. Like, really? Batman using slang that the sidekicks are using?

Sure, Nightwing sometimes uses some here and there, but Red Robin is always very professional and Robin is closer to a Shakespearean actor than a TikTok teen. There isn’t anyone else he could have gotten it from and it doesn’t make sense with his whole ‘I am the Night’-persona.

Victor suggested it was to make the newbies more comfortable when he overheard them talking, but that’s even more ridiculous in Ollie’s opinion.

So, he’s not at all in the slightest prepared for Batman’s reaction when he shows him the new arrows he developed. Because Batman’s reaction is: “Hm, serves cunt.”

“Excuse me, what?” Ollie says, his eyes nearly bulging out of his skull.

Batman just stares at him, then in a confused sort of voice goes: “You know, it slays? It’s, you know, good? Positive.”

“Huh, what? No, I- I know what that means. How the fuck do you know?” Ollie splutters.

“I’m Batman,” is all he says. Then he walks away and leaves Ollie to stand there, still frozen in time, because what the hell was that? Batman can’t just do that, can he? That’s illegal. How does he even know that?

What Ollie doesn’t know, is that this was a calculated move. Bruce had overheard the three talking as well and decided to have a little fun. All the times before, it just slipped out in the heat of battle, but this one was purposeful.

Bruce knows Ollie would know what it meant, because billionaires Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen have done TikTok trends in the past and try to keep up to date, despite their age. Not that Ollie knows it’s him under there.

And last gala, he left Bruce for the wolves – Vicky Vale – so now Bruce is dealing psychological damage to him as petty revenge.

5. Superman (and Practically the Entire League)

They’re in a meeting with most of the Justice League members that are present on earth at the moment. It’s not often they hold such meetings, since they are a little overwhelming and tend to drag on more than be productive.

However, Clark thinks it’s important to ensure there are avenues through which ever member can state their piece and be heard. So, here they are again.

Booster Gold is complaining about always being on the sidelines and never in the heat of the action, even though he’s a great hero. He’s claiming that there is a bias against younger heroes, despite the fact that the ‘old guard’ will have to give it up eventually.

Apparently, Batman has had enough, because he gets up and snaps: “We don’t have bias based on age, we have one based off skill. Maybe if you stopped abandoning your post and being someone reliable, you might get put out in the field more often. Now stop being salty about it.”

It’s silent.

Clark is scrambling his brain, to figure out the meaning. As a journalist he tries to stay up to date on current language use, however, the only person he’s heard use that word is Jon. The boy never explained, but Clark guessed what it means. Doesn’t explain why Batman knows it.

Then the silence gets broken by a snort, everyone’s head whipping towards the source. It’s Nightwing, a newer addition and one affiliated with Batman himself. The only one there brave enough to laugh at Batman, mirthfully asking: “Did you actually say salty?”

There is no change on Batman’s face, but as a longtime friend, Clark knows he isn’t emotionless. Indeed, when he listens close, he can hear the blood rush to his face, blush hidden by the cowl.

“That was not the point of the sentence, Nightwing,” Batman counters, the name a little bit pointed on is tongue.

“Okay, okay,” Nightwing grins easily, showing his hands in surrender, an act which is made null by him adding: “Just pointing out that this is an official meeting. You’re on the record and you know I’m reporting this to the others.”

Red Robin and Robin, Clark fills in mentally, the other two known associates. Everyone already guessed that Nightwing must be close to them as well, since the younger two are closer to being Batman’s children. Now that is confirmed.

“Thank you for reminding me,” Batman says tersely, before quickly pivoting to the next point on the agenda. No one calls him out for it.

However, just because no one calls him out on it, doesn’t mean they drop it. In the weeks after the incident, whispers make their way through the halls of the Watchtower as people speculate why or how Batman came to use the word salty and how out of character it is.

Clark can hear the gossip all over the Watchtower and he’s sure Batman is aware of it too, because some brave souls have asked about. Especially when some of the others talked about the incident not being the first one.

Batman hasn’t replied yet to any of the questions or rumors. Clark thinks he likes the mystery and chaos, likes that they don’t know why the hell he sometimes lets slang slip. Even Nightwing has been seemingly silenced, never commenting with a sort of professional ease at evasion.

Nightwing is the only clue they have, along with Robin and Red Robin, but none of them seem like the culprit.

It just doesn’t make sense and Clark can’t help but have his reporter brain itch.

+1. The Batfamily

There is going to be an attack somewhere in a major city in America tonight. They cannot figure out where, so there is a nation wide stake out at all the important places. Nearly the entire Justice League has been pulled out for it and even then they don’t have enough.

Batman insists on having a skeleton crew remain on the Watchtower in case the threat turns out to be a distraction. And when it is protested, he pulls out an army of associates none of them have ever heard about to fill out the last gaps in their observational net.

The sudden introduction of about six new Gotham vigilantes, which have apparently been operating inside the city as well as outside of it, would have been the main shock if it weren’t for how they are on coms.

Red Robin and Nightwing are known as professionals like Batman, while Robin isn’t a known entity in missions, though those who have met him, know him to be serious. However, with the introduction of the others all of that professionalism melts away.

It starts about 45 minuted into their mission when Spoiler’s voice suddenly crackles over the coms: “I fucking hate stake outs, they’re so boring.”

“I know right, my ass is starting to hurt,” Red Robin – to everyone’s surprise – replies.

“No chatter on the coms,” Batman dutifully reproaches like he always does, but he sounds less stern this time. It’s as if he knows they won’t listen, but says it because it’s his role to do so.

Red Hood ignores Batman completely, idly commenting: “I don’t know, stake outs always hit different for me.”

“That’s just because you’re boring AF,” Spoiler says, an eyeroll practically audible.

“Oi, take that back,” Red Hood says, offended. “I didn’t die to have you slander my name like that!”

This is horrifying news for most of the other people stuck on the coms, however, there is a cacophony of annoyed groans as well. Why anyone would be so blasé about someone mentioning their death, they don’t know.

Until, Robin says: “Cease mentioning your death as excuse. It’s unbecoming to be so reliant on one measly event. You’re not the only one who has died, don’t be – what was it? – ah, yes, don’t be basic, Hood.”

“Yeah, Hood, don’t be salty just because you’re becoming a boring old man,” Red Robin pipes up, sounding smug. That solves the salty mystery.

“Shut up, Replacement,” Red Hood huffs. “I can talk about my death as much as I want to and you can’t stop me.”

“Hood, please, stop talking about your death, you’re going to make B sad,” Nightwing suddenly interjects, stopping the conversation before it can get out of hand.

Those with super hearing will hear Barry mutter in a shocked manner: “Is he talking about Batman?” But he is overshadowed by most of the newly introduced (and already) known Bat-associates booing loudly.

“Don’t be a fucking suck up, Dick” Spoiler hollers, only those in the know picking up on the fact it’s his name. It’s the only time Batman won’t correct them, because not everyone will know it’s a name unless it’s pointed out.

“Periodt,” the quiet voice of Black Bat supports Spoiler.

“Hell yeah, that’s what I’m talking about, BB,” Spoiler cheers when she hears the other girl.

“That was the correct usage?” Black Bat asks.

“It was, well done,” Oracle’s kind voice comes over the coms, from where she is in her lair helping with coordination.

After that it all quiets down again for about half an hour, then Bluebird breaks the quiet again, complaining: “I can’t believe I had to stay behind in Gotham of all places.”

“You live there. Willingly,” Signal answers. “And I had to stay behind too, you know.”

“They’re sleeping on us, Signal, be upset with me,” Bluebird exclaims, indignantly.

“Okay, but tea though,” Spoiler says, most of the Justice League listening in are starting to learn she likes stirring the pot a little.

“Don’t be a simp, Spoils,” Red Robin says.

“Oh, look who’s talking about being a simp,” Red Hood snorts loudly. “I observed you, loser boy, you’re the simp.”

“It’s not as much of the serve you think it is to admit to stalking me,” Red Robin deadpans.

“RR, not to be that bitch, but you’re the OG stalker, maybe- maybe don’t do that,” Nightwing says cautiously, which is apparently funny enough that multiple people start laughing.

Meanwhile Red Robin complains: “Stop laughing at me, when I did it was totally different, I didn’t plan on killing any of you.” Which is mildly disturbing

“Oi, I never planned to actually kill you-kill you either,” Red Hood protests, even more disturbing. The Justice League is starting to wonder why Batman works with the man.

“Stop with the chatter,” Batman interjects again, before it can go further. “It’s not just us on the com lines now. At least try to be professional.”

And much to the horror of the League, who could never imagine doing such a thing, Batman gets booed. Again. This time directly.

Then to add to the horror, Batman doesn’t explode in anger, like everyone would have imagined, instead he just sighs. Defeated. Batman is like a cockroach, he doesn’t get defeated. However, these kids are managing.

Batman remains defeated too, because the Gotham vigilantes continue to idly chat all throughout the next hour. They are definitely bat associated, because they never reveal any information that could be tied to their civilian identity. Instead discussing other missions, general news, funny things they saw on patrol and personal grievances with the others on the line.

If this is what Batman deals with on the day to day, some are starting to see why he would prefer the heroes of the Justice League to keep their mouths shut on missions unless it’s important.

Most try to tune it out and focus on their own stake out, though the voices keep them awake. But they notice when Spoiler’s voice suddenly becomes serious as she reports: “Sus individuals moving towards the Mayor’s office.”

“Received, getting visual on your location,” Oracle’s voice replies, also snapped back into professionalism.

Spoiler reports their appearances and currently location, until Oracle has them, running a check on them, before confirming they have a criminal record and might be thugs for hire. Spoiler says: “I am going to move in.”

Batman says: “Do not engage, Spoiler, they could be a decoy. Try and get more information first.”

“Alright, alright,” Spoiler huffs. Then adds petulantly: “I’m not gonna do it, I was just thinking about it.”

Which sounds pretty reasonable for most listening in, who aren’t of the right age group to know the meme. Batman, however, does know, because he’s been subjected to it multiple times. So, he yells: “Spoiler, no!” startling some members.

A second later, there are sounds of a fight and Spoiler gleefully saying: “I did it.”

Batman lets out a frustrated growl, but Spoiler pays it no mind and she can’t truly get chewed out, because more and more start to report suspicious individuals moving in on the targets they’re watching.

Within minutes of it starting, Nightwing reports: “They’re decoys with targets. Not the main attack, but will do damage if they succeed.”

“Everyone make sure to take out the decoys,” Batman says. “Those without decoys, keep your eyes peeled, you might be at the real target.”

“Done with my targets, moving to help the others now,” Nightwing reports seriously, before he adds: “And can I just say that I’m the GOAT. Dibs on cookies for finishing first.”

“Okay, shade much,” Bluebird says.

“Don’t be arrogant, it’s unbecoming,” Robin retorts as well.

“Yeah, stop flexing,” Spoiler adds. “I’ve wrapped up too, by the way. You’re not special.”

“Let me have this,” Nightwing complains. “You already took all my shit, let me be cool. You all used to think I was cool.”

“Yeah, used to,” Red Hood scoffs. “Then we all realized you’re a looser.”

“Ha, get wrecked,” Red Robin snorts.

“Baby bird, wasn’t I your favorite?” Nightwing asks hurt, though over the top enough to show he is faking it.

“No, sadly, that was Hood,” Red Robin replies, sounding a little like he’s grimacing.

“No cap?” Red Hood asks, surprised.

“No cap,” Red Robin confirms.

“Now I feel kind of bad for you,” Red Hood says, before some bullets are fired. “Wrapped up here, moving to help.”

Red Robin seems glad to not have to reply and none of the other Gothamites do either. With what the League has heard so far, they’re also kind of happy the topic is being dropped, unsure what to think.

Batman’s associates are among the first ones cleaning up, however, soon others are joining them and the true battles grounds – yes, there are multiple targets, these people are organized (Batman will likely obsess until he has tracked down their organization afterwards) – are discovered and heroes move in to fight them.

Throughout the battle, everyone catches snippets of this strange, newly introduced group. A group, who works well together, like an oiled machine, yet obviously made up of highly competent parts that can act on their own as well.

Like Black Bat calling out: “Red Hood, yeet,” before those fighting alongside them see Red Hood boost her into the air, so she can come flying at the terrorists.

But they also make comments about the people they’re fighting and the others that are fighting alongside them.

Signal calling out: “Bluebird is pulling some sick ass moves. Another one for her on the slay-board, Oracle.”

Or Spoiler commenting: “Okay, not to be like that or whatever, but these terrorists are kind of looking snatched.”

To which Batman sighs: “Spoiler, please, no chatter,” in a vain attempt to get them under control.

“What?” Spoiler says. “I can appreciate when they’ve at least tried to pull a fit instead of that usual para-military, ninja type BS.”

“Go off,” Black Bat pipes up again and Spoiler cheers while Batman drops it. Defeated again.

They also check in on each other, with Red Robin hissing in pain, which is immediately followed by Nightwing going: “RR, you good, fam?”

“Gucci,” Red Robin replies. “Just low-key got stabbed.”

“There’s nothing low-key about getting stabbed!” Nightwing exclaims, getting called a hypocrite by many people, while Batman is already calling for Oracle to get a visual and for a medic to head Red Robin’s way.

By the time the battle is over, the Justice League understands how different the team is that Batman usually works with. If they were surrounded by heroes who talked like that continuously, they would have probably picked up some things here and there too.

Still, it fucking weird when Batman checks over his horde, before declaring: “You were all lit out there,” causing multiple of the kids around him to groan loudly, with Bluebird calling Batman a boomer.

Clark, however, sees a small uptick in Batman’s mouth. And in that moment, he knows Batman is doing it on purpose, that he’s enjoying it. That he’s fucking with them. He doesn’t know what to do with that, nor does he think that anyone will believe it. So, he decides to share the amusement and drop it.

They’re never going to figure out Batman.

A/N:

This work is going to get dated so so so fast lmao, but it’s fun rn (if ur commenting in the future, welcome to outdated slang vibes from someone who wasn’t that up to date with current slang when writing it, bc im secretly a grandpa).

Hopefully I didn’t overdo it to an unrealistic degree, but if I did, such is the story that was being told oops

Also this whole fic is just an excuse for me to write batfam banter bc I love it lmao

I didn’t include Batwing, Batwoman and Flamebird here, sorry, but writing the batfam is always so hard bc there are so many characters T-T

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m1ngkis · 3 months ago

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Jeong Yunho #NEEDTHAT (18+)

A/N: MINORS BE GONE not me blushing rereading this.

It had to be going on a month since you had seen Yunho. His schedule as an idol kept him busy and yours equally so. The most you two had time to do was text each other, trying your best to find a hole in your plans to see each other.

"Wednesday?" You looked up from your calendar to gauge his reaction through the facetime call, which, if you were reading the furrow of his brows correctly, wasn't good.

"Shooting a couple of promo shows." Yunho sighed as his hairstylist continued to tug at his head, spraying a bit of product on the strands of hair.

"Afterwards?"

"Dance practice. Then, hyung has a song he wants to work on with me." You could see his frustration for the situation sit on his features. "I have to go. Manager is calling." He groaned before mumbling an I love you and waiting for you to say it back before hanging up.

It wasn't until two more weeks later that Ateez was granted a vacation and the first thing Yunho did was ask to be dropped off at your place.

His text came through your phone the same time his knocking was heard at the door. "Let me in." And you hopped up off the couch, not bothering to check the camera to see if it was really him.

With a squeal, you opened the door and jumped into his arms, holding him tight as he dropped his bag to catch you.

"I missed you so bad." Your speech muffled into his jacket as he groaned, his arms wrapping around your frame and squeezing hard.

"I missed you too."

Yunho walked inside your apartment with you clinging to him like a sloth to a tree, kicking your door closed and tossing his bag to the side. "I thought I'd never see you again." His hand cradled the back of your head as he gazed into your eyes.

"Don't be dramatic, Yuyu." You chuckled, running your palm down his cheek. He melted in your touch, grabbing your wrist to keep it in place as his eyes fluttered shut.

He rubbed his face into your hand, relishing in its softness and warmth. A moan slipped past his lips so quietly you almost didn't catch it before he kissed your hand.

"I missed your touch so bad, I thought I was gonna die."

"Really?" He nodded as he took hold of your other hand and placed them both on his head, letting your nails scratch lightly at his scalp as his arms wrap around your body again.

"Oh God, please..." Yunho whines, dropping his head to your chest and biting at you skin. Your fingers curl around his hair and tug until his head snaps back.

"What do you need, Yuyu?"

Yunho shakes his head as his hips start to thrust up shallowly. His need bleeding through his body and making him lose control over himself. "Anything...everything. What ever you're willing to give, baby please."

You pucker your lips and plant a kiss to his forehead before whispering. "I have an idea but you have to let me go for a second."

He actually whimpers at the thought of your bodies not being combined for more than half a second but his arms loosen and he allows you to get up.

"Take off some of your clothes." Only then does he realize that he didn't even bother taking off his shoes before entering your home.

He does so and sits them in the entryway. Afterwards, his jacket and shirt are shed as he makes his way back to the couch.

You run to your room and come back with a scarf. "Do you trust me?" The scarf dangles from your fingertips and a smile graces your lips.

"You're beautiful...I trust you with my life." His eyes sparkle in a way you have never seen and it almost pains you to hide them behind the material and you tie it behind his head.

Immediately, Yunho tenses. His hands curl into fists as his breathing becomes ragged. "B-baby? You still there?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm here." You run a hand down his chest, your nails grazing against the skin, causing him to shudder as his body melts into the couch. "I need you to breathe."

A shaky breath exits his nose. "C-can I touch you?" The desperation in his voice makes your thighs clench.

You don't answer him, opting to adjust him so he's laying on the couch. Slowly, you start to remove your clothing and toss it his way. His frantic hands grab onto every piece like a life line.

"Ready?" You ask. Yunho perks up. "Yes, yes. Please, Im so ready."

You hook your leg over him so you hover over his face and once he feels your thighs on either side of his head, he groans and his arms grab hold of you, pulling you down to sit on his face.

"Yunho!" You yelp as he moans against your heat, lapping up your wetness like a starving dog. "Wait!" You reach for his head, tugging at his hair.

"Mmmm hmm." His tongue laps at you and his eyes roll back behind the blindfold as moans spill from your lips. A month with out him dialed your sensitivity to 20 and its apparent in the way you fall forward against the arm of the couch. Your stomach heaving as the knot in it tightens.

"So good, Yu! Yes!"

Yunho thrusts up into nothing as your wetness drips down his chin and his fingers dig into your thighs. His own moans vibrate your skin as he guides your hips up and down his face with no regard for the mess you two make.

Your moans climb in pitch and his tongue speeds up until the knot in your belly snaps and you cum. Yunho licks it up and slips the scarf from his eyes as you come down from your peak.

"Was that good?" He asks with a smirk.

#ateez fic #ateez #ateez x reader #atz #yunho #jeong yunho #ateez yunho #yunho x reader #jeong yunho x reader #ateez smut #yunho smut #smut #x black reader #ateez x black reader

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roosterforme · 1 year ago

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The Younger Kind Part 24 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When you and Bradley put some pieces of the puzzle together, you realize it was a blessing in disguise that you ran into Meredith. But in the early hours of Wednesday morning, Bradley is hanging on by a thread. How could anyone try to take Noah away from him?

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Bradley strolled out of work with Nat hot on his heels. "She's picking you up?" she asked, clearly surprised by the turn of events over the past few days. When Bradley saw you leaning against the Bronco in the parking lot, Nat gasped. "You let her drive your Bronco?"

"Yeah, I trust her," he replied, taking off at a faster pace to get to you. The expression on your face had him a little worried, and you looked tired, but he was so happy to see you. Because he'd been anxious all day.

"Hi, Natasha," you called out, waving past Bradley as he scooped you up in a hug. "And hi, Daddy," you whispered, next to his ear as he held you.

"Hi, Baby," he sighed, kissing your glossy lips. "I missed you. Did you have a good day?"

You sucked in a deep breath, but then Nat was there, and the two of you were chatting. But your face was pinched and agitated instead of smooth and perfect, and you were playing with your hands nervously. Bradley let you talk to Nat for a few more minutes, and then he softly kissed the top of your head.

"Don't want to be late to pick Noah up," he told you, and then he gave Nat a hug and took the keys when you held them up for him. "You gonna tell me what's wrong?" he asked as he put the Bronco in gear.

"Why do you think something's wrong?" you asked casually, reaching for his hand.

"I can tell something's bothering you, Princess. But I'm assuming since you just grabbed my hand that you're not upset with me.

There was a brief pause before you said, "I saw Meredith when I went grocery shopping this morning."

Bradley nearly swerved off the road. "This morning? You saw her this morning, and you're just telling me about it now?" he glanced your way briefly. What happened? Did you get hurt?"

"I'm fine, Bradley." You squeezed his hand and pulled it to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to his thumb. "I'm perfectly fine."

"I swear, she's trying to ruin my life," he growled. "Won't leave me alone. Thinks it's okay to go after you. I'm afraid I'm going to fucking lose it in the courtroom when I see her tomorrow."

"Bradley, let's just go home and have a nice dinner, and then we can talk about it in a few hours after Noah is in bed, okay? You need to stay calm."

But that proved impossible. Bradley watched you with his son, just as patient as ever. You alternated between making dinner and coloring with him while Bradley silently panicked. He had no idea how he could give this up. Even looking at Noah right now was painful for him. And when Noah asked him to get all three of the paper crowns, Bradley actually started crying.

"Sure, bub. Come help me find yours." Noah took Bradley by the hand and led him down the hallway to his bedroom.

"It's in here, Daddy," he said, reaching for the yellow crown on his dresser and putting it on his own head before giving the bigger green one to Bradley. "Let's get the purple one for Princess."

Noah climbed up on Bradley's bed, but he still couldn't reach it. Bradley pulled it down and handed it to his son. "Why don't you give it to her, but only if she's not trying to cook dinner, okay?" It was hard to speak with the lump in his throat as Bradley carried his son back into the kitchen. He had his nose buried in Noah's soft hair, inhaling his scent and holding back tears. "I love you," he whispered as Noah handed you the purple crown.

"Oh, are we all matching tonight?" you asked with a soft laugh. But your smile didn't quite reach your eyes as you looked at Bradley.

"Yep!" Noah said as you slipped your crown onto your head.

And then dinner was mostly silent. And if you thought it was strange that Bradley held Noah on his lap the entire time, you didn't say anything. The night was going too quickly. Bradley had spent weeks trying not to think about this day, but now here it was, and it was worse than he could have ever imagined. He could barely stomach the food you made even though it was perfect.

"It's going to be okay," you whispered across the table.

"How do you know that?" he asked in response. "How do you know this isn't the last night I get to do this?" Bradley kissed Noah's cheek and took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

You stayed silent after that, only whispering something sweet to Noah before you said goodnight to him. Then you let Bradley have some privacy to give Noah a bath and get him dressed for bed. He read seven books to Noah, and he was already asleep by the end of the last one. But he stayed on his knees next to the bed, brushing Noah's curls softly back from his forehead and kissing him a million times.

"I love you," he said, tears filling his eyes as he wandered back out into the hallway. You were cleaning up the kitchen, but when he found himself in the doorway, you gathered him into your arms.

"It's hitting you hard, I can tell," you told him, and Bradley didn't care if you saw him crying.

"I just feel like... all of this shit is beyond my control. I can only do my best. But that's still not good enough to ensure I get to raise my son, which is completely fucked up."

You guided him to one of the chairs and then climbed onto his lap. Your voice was so soft, Bradley could barely hear you. "I just don't see how anyone could take him away from you."

"Do you have any idea how often judges side with mothers over fathers? It's so unsettling, I don't even want to think about it right now."

You tightened your grip on him. "Then let's think about something else."

"I still can't believe Meredith was at the grocery store this morning," he groaned, rubbing his face.

You were quiet for a few minutes, and then you looked at him with your pretty face scrunched in frustration. "She said the strangest things to me."

Bradley was on high alert now. "What? What did she say?"

"Well, she made a comment about how your car is worth a lot of money."

"It's a Bronco, Princess. Not a car." He realized this was the first time he'd really smiled in hours, and it felt good.

"Yes, I'm so sorry. She mentioned that your Bronco was worth a lot, and she said she was surprised you let me drive it."

He rolled his eyes. "Just because I never let her touch it doesn't mean you can't. She used to wreck up her little sports cars annually and then buy a new one. Doesn't appreciate the classics like you do." Bradley kissed your shoulder and listened to you sigh. "But I guess it's kind of odd that she said that to you. And honestly, I have no idea how much the Bronco is worth. Maybe like sixty thousand? I try to keep her running nice."

You scoffed at him, and then Bradley could practically see the wheels turning in your head. "I looked it up against your VIN number. In pristine condition, your Bronco is worth almost one hundred and fifty thousand dollars."

"It is?" he asked, completely shocked.

"It is," you confirmed. "You didn't know that?"

"No," he said, shaking his head.

"Meredith also mentioned some life insurance money?" you said a little reluctantly. "In an account for Noah?" He watched your eyes go wide as you quickly added, "I'm not trying to pry, and we don't need to talk about it-"

"From my mom," he replied, kissing you softly to let you know it was okay to talk about it. "I have my mom's huge life insurance payout. I never touched a cent, because it was too depressing. After Noah was born, I decided to save it for him. He can use it for college or for a house or.... I don't know, he can sail a fucking yacht around the world with it or something. But it's for him."

You gasped and said, "Bradley, I think Meredith just wants your money."

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

You watched him slowly shake his head as you scrambled off his lap and went to go get his computer from where you left it charging in the living room. When you brought it back to the kitchen, Bradley said, "Princess, she makes more money than I do. I just don't see how that could be the case. You should see where she lives in Oceanside. It looks like a mansion."

"No," she replied, opening up the tabs she had saved. "She doesn't live in Oceanside any longer."

"How do you know that?" he asked, wrapping his arms around you as you sat perched on his thigh.

You pulled up some property records you had found when you searched Meredith's name earlier. "She went into foreclosure last year and had to sell. She lives in an apartment in San Diego now."

You looked at Bradley over your shoulder, but he was completely silent now.

"What was the name of her company?" you asked, turning back to the computer.

"Coastal Business Development," he said quietly. And a shiver ran through your body. You had been correct in what you found. But now you kept opening tab after tab as he sat there with you. More new information was popping up left and right. She had tried to hide her name by using an LLC, but Bradley knew enough of the missing pieces to help you put it all together.

"She's bankrupt," you whispered, and he gently pushed your hand out of the way to open one last tab himself. You skimmed the court documents and said, "It sounds like she married her business partner, and he left her high and dry."

"Damn," Bradley gasped, going back through each tab about Meredith's real estate foreclosure, business bankruptcies, and personal interviews. You tried to push the computer away, but Bradley kept going back to the same tab, and now he wouldn't even let you minimize it.

"Don't read it," you whispered, pulling his hand away and turning to look at him.

His eyes were void of emotion now as he looked at you. "She was quoted saying she doesn't have any children."

"She doesn't," you insisted, taking his face in your hands. "Not really. But you do. Noah is your son, Bradley."

He let his forehead come to rest on your shoulder, but a minute later, his phone was ringing in his pocket.

"It's probably Nat," he said, shaking his head. "I can't talk to anyone else right now."

He handed you his phone, but you looked at the name and said, "I think you should answer. It's your lawyer."

"Tracy," he grunted, holding the phone up to his face and closing his eyes. You tried to slip off of his lap after a moment, but he held you in place. And then his tone sounded sharp and angry as he scrambled to put the call on speakerphone. "Can you please repeat that last part?"

You heard Tracy's voice clearly say, "You remember how I told you Meredith was in breach of contract with her lawyer? Well, she never paid the law firm. Not a cent. The firm dropped her at the last minute when her funds never materialized. I just found out today. Do you know if she has any sort of history of financial mishaps?"

"Yes!" you said before you could consider if Bradley wanted Tracy to know you were there with him.

Tracy was quiet for a beat. "Are you at home? I'll come to you."

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

When Tracy arrived after ten o'clock on Tuesday night, Bradley was practically having a nervous breakdown. The hearing was tomorrow. He and Noah were supposed to be at the courthouse in twelve hours. He felt like he was going to throw up.

But at least you were there, touching his hands and his shoulders and trying to make him feel better. You actually were helping him feel better. And then Tracy was in his kitchen with a huge bag, wearing gym clothes and eyeing you a little suspiciously.

Then she looked at Bradley and said, "Ignoring my legal advice, I see."

He sighed deeply. "Tracy, this is my babysitter turned girlfriend."

"Do not call her that tomorrow in the courtroom under any circumstances!" she said hastily. "Promise me, Bradley! I don't want us to end up looking like a pack of idiots when you point her out as your girlfriend."

"Wait..." you said, eyes wide. "You want me there tomorrow?"

"Yes," Tracy said, unloading folders onto the kitchen table along with her computer and a protein shake. "I already have a call in with the judge to have you added as a character witness. So be prepared to answer questions and give a statement if called upon."

"That's too much to ask," Bradley mumbled looking from Tracy to you. "I can't ask you to do that."

You looked at him like he was very slow and maybe a little naive. "You didn't ask me to. Tracy just told me I was. And I want to. If there's a chance I can do anything that might help, I'm doing it."

Bradley pinched the bridge of his nose and tried not to panic too much as you and he showed Tracy what'd you had found online. "Fucking hell," Tracy muttered, scribbling down notes. "I didn't know this was going to turn into a criminal hearing, but here we are." She scrolled through the property records and matched up tax identification numbers, taking everything a step beyond what you and Bradley had been able to do.

"A criminal hearing?" Bradley asked cautiously, but Tracy seemed to be in her own world now.

"Oh... she's slick," Tracy murmured. "Or she believes she is. You would think she'd have known her lawyer wouldn't fall for this. I wonder if she'll even have a lawyer tomorrow..."

Bradley reached for your hand on the table. "Can we just backtrack a moment? What kind of statement will she need to make?" he asked Tracy as he nodded at you. "And what will Meredith's lawyer be allowed to ask her?"

Tracy looked at his fingers intertwined with yours. "You'll just have to answer my questions honestly, without using the word girlfriend! And then Meredith's legal team is going to think it's open season on you as soon as they see your name was added to the docket. If we can even manage to have you added. So if you can't manage to answer their questions calmly and without crying as they try to shred you to pieces, then I suggest you learn how to overnight."

Bradley wanted to put an end to this entire thing, but you cut him off before he could start talking. "Do you honestly think I'll be helpful?"

"Absolutely. Could be the nail in Meredith's coffin, given all this new information."

"Then I'm in. Seriously Bradley, do not argue with us again," you told him, kissing his cheek while Tracy typed away.

"Okay, I need some coffee. And then let's go over everything from the top," Tracy said, clapping her hands.

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

It was well after midnight by the time you coaxed Bradley into bed. These last minute revelations were something Tracy insisted were good for Bradley's case, but he was looking extremely apprehensive now. He was raking his fingers through his hair nonstop and pacing around.

"You need to try to sleep," you whispered, pulling him down the hallway. "Let Tracy do what she needs to do, okay? She's going to be in charge tomorrow. She's good at this."

But he stopped short in front of Noah's door and let go of your hand. "You go get ready for bed. I'll be there in a minute." His voice was flat and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed before ducking inside the dark bedroom. You were worried, mostly about him. And about how Noah would do when being questioned by the judge tomorrow. You didn't have time to worry about yourself, so that was at least one good thing you thought of while you brushed your teeth.

You were dressed in one of Bradley's oversized shirts and waiting in bed for a while before he came in. You helped him change out of his clothes, and he climbed into bed next to you. He didn't say anything except, "I love you, Princess," after he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. But he let you pull him into your arms, and pretty soon you were dozing off to the feel of his soft breaths on your forehead and his heart beating beneath your palm.

When you woke to a pitch black room, you could tell he was no longer in bed with you. You found him sitting on the floor in Noah's room, watching his son sleep, and when you walked in, your bare feet silent on the floor, he looked up at you. Even in the dim glow from the nightlight, you could tell he had been crying again. But he didn't ask you to leave. He reached for you.

"You're a good dad," you told him with a soft sob as you climbed onto his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Noah is lucky. And I don't believe they could take him away from you. Away from all this love."

He kissed your cheek, and then he smiled softly as you brushed Noah's curls from his forehead with one hand and Bradley's with the other. "I feel like I can't breathe right," he whispered, and you could feel his pulse racing as you pressed your lips to his neck. "I don't know what I'll do if they take him from me."

"Stop it. They won't."

He was silent again after that, and the two of you ended up sleeping right there on the floor. When you woke up as Noah climbed out of bed just after sunrise, your hip was a little sore, and Bradley was still sleeping.

"Morning, Noah," you whispered, standing and scooping him into your arms. You took him to the kitchen, kissing his chubby cheeks on the way.

"Do you live here now?" he asked, yawning as you turned on the coffee maker.

"No. I don't," you said, hoping he wouldn't say anything like that when he was questioned by the judge in a few hours. "I'm just your babysitter." He just blinked at you before asking for breakfast.

About twenty minutes later, when Bradley walked in rubbing his back, he made a beeline for Noah while you scrambled some eggs and made coffee. Even the mug that said My Other Car Is a Super Hornet didn't make you smile today. You burned your mouth on the coffee, and you nearly knocked the pan onto the floor. Because every time you looked at Bradley, you were on the verge of tears. Maybe you weren't capable of being as strong as you needed to be today. Now the idea of standing up in the courtroom was laughable. You were going to ruin everything.

Bradley was calling your name, and when you snapped out of your daze, he said, "You need to eat, too."

"I can't," you whispered, shaking your head. "I can't." You left them alone and went to take a quick shower, happy you'd packed a variety of clothing when you stopped home the other day. You were supposed to have a mock interview with one of your peers over a FaceTime call today, so you'd packed a blazer and some nice pants. You'd just have to skip the interview. Honestly, school and searching for a job had been the last things on your mind recently anyway.

You let Bradley get Noah ready to go, and when it was time to leave, you looked at him, so handsome in his navy blue suit. "Will you drive? Please?" he asked, holding out the Bronco key for you to take. You simply nodded, but a moment later, you felt tears in your eyes again. He was sitting in the backseat next to Noah. You backed carefully out of his driveway and headed to the center of the city and the courthouse and Meredith and everything else that you wished Bradley and Noah didn't have to see today.

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

The fact that Tracy was chugging a Red Bull and looked like she hadn't slept at all was only making Bradley feel worse as he carried Noah up the stairs in front of the courthouse.

She rushed toward them and pointed at you. "You're on the docket. Get ready. Meredith supposedly has a lawyer, and I'm sure they've seen the docket update by now."

"Okay," you replied. You were nodding, but you looked as nervous as Bradley felt.

Then Tracy was patting Noah on the head. "Remember me? I'm Tracy. We're going to do something a little different today, okay Noah? It might seem a little silly at first, because you'll be the only kid here! But you'll be allowed to color when we get inside."

You gasped. "I didn't pack him any coloring books!"

"I have some," Tracy said, patting her briefcase. You immediately looked a little calmer, and Tracy added, "But that's the sign of a good babysitter if you usually pack them."

"She brings me coloring books when she babysits me," Noah told Tracy.

Bradley held Noah a little tighter. "Made sure I got you the best babysitter around, bub."

Just as Tracy cracked open another can of Red Bull that she procured from somewhere, she said, "Time to go in." Bradley didn't stand too close to you, and he didn't touch you. He followed you inside the front doors at a respectable distance, and you seemed to understand what needed to be done today.

When Bradley's eyes settled on Meredith, she was already looking at him. And she was standing next to a tall man in a suit. "Well, would you look at that? She does have a lawyer today," Tracy whispered, crushing the now empty can in her fist and throwing it away before walking over to introduce herself to him.

Bradley had to turn his gaze away from his ex, and he walked a little further away from you. The desire to touch you was strong, but he instinctively wanted to get Noah as far away from Meredith as he possibly could. Bradley's heart was pounding, and a wave of nausea passed through him.

"Daddy, can we go home?" Noah whispered, wrapping his arms around Bradley's neck. "I don't like it here."

Neither did Bradley. He held his son and thought about Carole, and how she never let anything scary happen to him when he was a kid. He thought about losing everything by the time he was a teenager and about the fact that Noah had given him a fresh start. A reason to be happy. And it was because of Noah that he met you. When he glanced over his shoulder, you were watching the two of them with a soft gaze.

"Pretty soon, bub," he replied, squeezing his son and pressing his lips to his forehead. "I'll take you home soon. I hope."

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

Next up is the showdown! Get in my asks with questions and concerns, but we may be nearing the end. Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 25

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megalony · 8 months ago

Text

Proud Papa

This is a Tommy Kinard imagine, based on a lovely Anon request. I hope you will all like it, please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

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@rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff

Tommy Kinard Masterlist

Summary: Tommy can't wait for the day of (Y/n)'s C-section so they can meet their twins. They know exactly what to expect; but there's room for a few surprises.

Enjoy.

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

"So, next week? Are you coming, I can give you a lift if you like."

A grin spread across Tommy's lips as he zipped up his bag and let it lay between his feet. His elbows moved to rest on his thighs and he tilted his head back, squinting up at Eddie against the beaming afternoon sun that was casting rays of gleaming white to shine around the court.

He could feel his smile twitching into a smirk when he thought about how busy he was going to be next week.

"Uh, no, sorry. I can't make it next week." It would be the first time in over two months that Tommy would have to skip the weekly basketball game that had been set up for almost a year now.

He was usually lucky that he didn't work Thursday afternoons, he either had them off or he worked the Thursday night shift and still turned up here for the basketball game beforehand.

But not next week.

"No?"

"You're missing a game?" Buck huffed as he ran his fingers through his sweaty locks, brushing them back while he huffed. He had been to about four of these weekly games so far and he knew Tommy had been to each one. He usually picked Eddie up on the way and brought him down here so they didn't have to take two cars.

"Yep, I'll be missing the next few games, actually. You'll have to make do without me."

"How come?"

The disappointment in Eddie's voice and the confusion on Buck's face was almost endearing. It felt good to have friends that actually wanted to hang out with him and who clearly were going to miss his absence next week. Tommy was a friendly guy and he was easy going, but that didn't mean he made a lot of friends.

He only had a small circle of close-knit friends that he relied on and trusted and who he hung out with regularly. It was refreshing to meet Eddie and Buck and reconnect with Chimney and Hen and feel like he had more people to be around and get to know again.

"My wife's gonna be having the twins next Wednesday." Tommy couldn't quite keep his excitement at bay.

Although his expression was contained, his smile was dampened down so it didn't take over his face. And he took a deep breath to stop from overexciting himself or babbling about everything that would happen next week. He refrained from blurting out every little detail that was planned down to the dot.

And he revelled in the tender smile that lit up Eddie's face, while Buck grinned, but his eyes narrowed somewhat in confusion.

"Ah, you, you mean her due date is next Wednesday?" Scratching the back of his neck, Buck tilted his head to one side and grinned across at his friend. He would have to be psychic to know the exact date when his wife would go into labour.

"No, we're having them on Wednesday. (Y/n)'s having a C-section. As of Monday, I'm off work, and as of next Wednesday, I'll officially be a dad."

Tommy had enjoyed watching everyone become confused when he told them he already knew his children's birthday ahead of time. He loved that he had it circled on the kitchen calendar in red pen that next week would be their birthday. If he wanted, he could add it in his work diary and save it to his phone as a reminder that every year, that would be a special date he would need off work.

They had it all planned out from (Y/n) being five months pregnant that she would be having a C-section. Suffering with extreme morning sickness and then having a minor placental abruption put (Y/n) more at risk, along with having twins. The doctor thought it would be better if they had a C-section so neither of the twins got distressed during labour and so the placenta didn't start moving again and cause any bleeding.

It was more likely that (Y/n) would go into early labour too, since she was having a multiple pregnancy. They would be at thirty-six weeks next week which was a safe mark to have the twins.

"Oh wow, congratulations."

"Do you know what you're having yet?"

"We're having boys."

Tommy wouldn't tell anyone yet that he and (Y/n) already had the names picked out. They would be walking into that hospital next week knowing the exact date they would be having their boys, roughly what time, and with their names already chosen and sewn into matching blankets (Y/n) had made.

It was as scheduled as anything else in their lives and they both preferred it this way. No walking on egg shells, no panicking that Tommy might be at work when (Y/n) went into labour. No worrying that something would go wrong or labour would end up with complications or something would happen to their boys.

It was all pre-planned out and next week, Tommy would be sat with one son in each arm, feeling the happiest he'd ever been in his life.

(Y/n) tilted her head to the right and looked across at Tommy, quirking a brow as she gazed at him curiously. The smile on his lips was one that made his cheeks puff out and the end of his nose scrunched up as he looked down at his phone.

She moved her hands to run them up and down her legs, feeling adrenaline spark through her stomach at the prospect that in less than an hour, she wasn't going to be able to feel the lower part of her body anymore.

"Something funny?" She murmured softly, smiling as Tommy tore his eyes away from his phone and looked across at her before he held the screen out for her to see.

"Just the guys wishing us luck." He swiped across to the next text, watching as (Y/n)'s eyes lit up and she nodded.

It was sweet. Buck had wished them good luck, and cheekily asked for a photo of the twins once the operation was all done and dusted. And Eddie hoped it would go well, and said Chris has asked when he can come down and visit them which was endearing.

Tommy had been a little surprised but nevertheless touched when Hen and Chimney both texted early this morning to say they were happy for him. And said they would come down to see them all soon.

With a smile, Tommy turned his phone on silent and tucked it safely into the bag they had brought down to the hospital with them. He didn't need it going off in the operating room or sitting uncomfortably in his back pocket. He wasn't going to need it.

He pushed up from the chair and ran his hands up and down his jeans, wiping the sweat from his palms before he sat down on the edge of the bed beside (Y/n)'s knee. He reached out and began to trail his hand across (Y/n) knee while she sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed. Her hands stopped drawing patterns and reached out for Tommy's wrist instead, holding onto him as tightly as she could.

"Are you ready?"

Her lips curved up into a tender smile and her eyes flitted down to her stomach.

It felt strange to know that in over an hour, she was going to look and feel totally different. Her stomach wouldn't be this rounded anymore. It would feel squishy and flatter and she might have better chance of seeing her knees and her feet which she hadn't caught sight of in the last few months.

In an hour, they would have a boy each to cuddle and feed and adore and love.

Everything had been leading up to today, but now it was here, everything felt strange, in a good way. (Y/n) was ready to be able to walk and feel like her back wasn't crippled and feel like she could stand up straight without her stomach trying to touch the floor. She would be able to push a pram rather than stare holes into her stomach and wish to see her babies.

They would be waking up during the night as of now. They would be swamped with baby grows and nappies and cries filling the house. And they were ready for this.

"I think I'm gonna be a stone lighter after this." She spoke wistfully while she moved her hands to cup her stomach. She was definitely going to feel like a whole new person after today.

A chuckle passed through Tommy's lips before he leaned forward, moving his hands to cup hers that were on her stomach. He leaned down and pressed his lips to the top of her bump, smiling against her skin when he felt (Y/n) lean down to kiss the back of his head.

"Well I'm gonna miss this," He murmured into her skin, causing shivers in his wake.

He had loved wrapping himself around (Y/n) and attaching his lips to her stomach and feeling the boys move and wriggle around and react to the sound of his voice. But they both knew having their boys in their arms was going to feel a whole lot different to this, in the best way possible.

A soft knock at the door caught their attention and Tommy sat up straight but kept his hands enveloped around (Y/n)'s.

They both watched as two nurses walk into the room, eager looks of excitement on their faces.

"Are we ready to go to theatre?" It wasn't the best way to word it, but (Y/n) nodded all the same.

The longer they waited up here in this room, the more nervous she was becoming. It was the thought of the epidural she was going to have that made her feel queasy. But she knew once she'd had the injection and everything was set up, she would feel a lot calmer.

And Tommy was going to be there right beside her.

(Y/n) could feel her nerves sparking and igniting when they finally got into the operating room. She had never had an operation before. The worst (Y/n) had done was broken a few bones in her life, but this was different. She was going to be awake for this which was something strange and unusual in itself.

She sat on the side of the bed, keeping her eyes on her knees as her nails punctured into the edge of the operating bed like she was going to extend claws like Wolverine and cut it apart.

But when her eyes lifted, she managed to arch a brow and some of her anxiety died down when she looked over at her husband.

He was wearing scrubs. Somehow, Tommy looked even taller and bulkier in the dusty pale blue scrubs that barely seemed to fit over his arms or his shoulders. But the tender smile dancing across his lips made him look soft and when (Y/n) reached a hand out towards him, he all but melted on the spot.

She felt his lips pressing against her temple as he moved to stand in front of her and interlocked their fingers together.

"Okay, let's get you on this epidural. Do you want to lie down?"

"Can I sit up?" (Y/n) looked over her shoulder at the doctor who they had seen two weeks ago in preparation for today. He smiled kindly and nodded.

She didn't want to lie on her side, something about that made (Y/n) feel a little too uncomfortable. It would make her feel better if she could stay sitting up like this and then when the epidural started to work, she would lie down ready. They knew it would take up to twenty minutes for her body to go fully numb and she didn't want to lie on her side or her back for that long and wait.

"Okay, this is going to feel uncomfortable, but since you can't see any of it, that should be a little easier. This is the anaesthetic first, to numb your back."

Lifting her gaze, (Y/n) locked her eyes on Tommy, but the calm smile on his face made her feel better already. She leaned forward until her forehead was pressing into his chest and her right hand stayed tangled with Tommy's while she reached her left hand out and curled her hand around his torso. She felt his right hand move to cup the back of her neck and he began to hum quietly while his eyes focused over (Y/n)'s shoulder to watch the doctor.

He watched curiously as the doctor slowly pushed a needle near (Y/n)'s spine to numb her back. He felt (Y/n) twitch and push into his chest even more and he was glad she couldn't see this. Tommy had lost count of the times he'd had to hold (Y/n) in a chair or catch her when she fainted while having her bloods taken.

"Epidural going in now (Y/n). This will feel a bit uncomfortable, but not painful."

Tommy smoothed his thumb up and down the back of (Y/n)'s neck while he watched the thin tube thread into her back, between the columns of her spine. It made his breathing quicken, but he had seen much worse while he was on shift with air support.

It was still strange to watch the fluid seep through the thin tube in her back and watch the way (Y/n) twisted and tensed, trying to stay as still as she could so she didn't move anything.

(Y/n) began to sway their entwined hands back and forth, giving herself something to focus on other than the sound of Tommy's gritty, melodic hum that quietly flooded her ears.

This was what she had been worried about. Feeling this uncomfortable and feeling the injections and then having to wait for everything to turn numb. The thought was almost as uneasy as the action itself and after just less than ten minutes, (Y/n) slowly lifted her head to look up at Tommy. She nodded silently and moved their entwined hands down to pat her legs that she couldn't feel anymore.

Well, she could sort of feel them, but it was like a switch had been flipped and they had been momentairely disconnected.

There was a small part of (Y/n) that worried this epidural somehow wouldn't work or suddenly wouldn't be properly effective. She dreamed that when the doctor began cutting through the fat and muscle in her abdomen, she would suddenly feel agonising pain and begin to scream. But feeling how numb and tingly her legs felt, (Y/n) was sure that wasn't going to happen today.

"If we can get you laid down now, we can get set up and have these two. Do we know what we're having yet, or is it a surprise?"

(Y/n) kept her hands latched around Tommy's and smiled gratefully when his hands moved to hold her upper arms. He helped the nurses turn her and move her legs so she was sitting up on the bed. Both (Y/n)'s hands moved to clutch Tommy's bicep which caused him to smile.

"Okay honey?" He whispered softly while he eased her to lay back down and let her curl both her hands around his right hand.

(Y/n) nodded but she pulled his hand down to pin it to her chest and she scrunched her eyes closed when the doctor started to get ready. She didn't want to see him prepare the scalpals or set up the sheet so she wouldn't see. Part of her wanted to see, she wanted to see the exact moment their boys were brought into the world. But the other part of (Y/n) knew it wouldn't be a sight she would easily forget or would really want to see when she felt a little woozy already.

She knew Tommy would look. He wasn't squeamish, he couldn't be in his line of work and he wanted to watch. If he couldn't be the first person to hold their boys, since that would technically be the doctor's job, then Tommy at least wanted to witness them being born.

Her fingers began to glide up and down Tommy's wrist and over his arm, sorting out the creases and wrinkles in his scrubs. She focused her eyes on him and watched the way he smiled and squeezed her hand every now and then to keep her calm.

"Alright, here we go."

The way (Y/n) clenched her fingers into his hand and closed her eyes made Tommy smile. It was almost as if she was anticipating the pain she knew deep down that she wasn't going to feel. (Y/n) might feel some level of discomfort because of the odd sensations, but she wasn't going to be in any sort of pain.

When she opened her eyes, (Y/n) tried to keep watch over Tommy. Noticing the way the lights caused flecks of white to cascade off his eyes like glittering sparkles. Or how he kept biting the corner of his lips and narrowing his eyes every few seconds. Each time he twitched or moved, (Y/n) wondered if the doctor was peeling away another layer of skin. Tommy's reactions and movements were reflecting the procedure.

But she couldn't feel anything. It was a relief to know the doctor was cutting through her skin and all (Y/n) could feel was tiny touches like she was being prodded whilst being deep in slumber.

No pain, no actual sensations or touches or movements at all. They could be slicing her apart and she wouldn't know about it.

"Let's get baby number one out. Nurse."

Tommy let (Y/n) keep his hand pinned down against her chest while he leaned behind the protective white sheet they'd pinned up across the middle of (Y/n)'s stomach so she couldn't see the procedure. It made shivers course down his spine to see the doctor reach into (Y/n)'s stomach like was a magician's act. The clamps keeping her skin pulled apart didn't bother Tommy almost as much as seeing the doctor reach in like that.

It looked invasive. It looked horrific rather than like the miracle he thought it would be.

(Y/n) felt Tommy suddenly tugging on her hand and she lifted her head, adrenaline sparking through her body when she heard a soft cry.

She could feel her heart trying to burst out of her chest and it took all her effort to stay still and prevent herself from trying to move and sit up. But she didn't have to wait long before the nurse was bringing their first boy round behind the curtain so she could see him.

"Here's your first boy." She spoke softly and carefully laid the newborn down onto (Y/n)'s chest who was shaking his arms and fists like he was fighting off invisible hands. His cheek nuzzled against (Y/n)'s chest and she kissed his temple, trying to stop herself from crying but she couldn't help herself.

"Hi baby," Her left hand moved to brush over the top of his head while she felt Tommy lean down to kiss her temple and run his free hand across their boy's cheek.

(Y/n) almost whined when the nurse gently lifted him off her chest again and took him out of sight. But she knew it was because she was going to clean him up and to let her hold her second boy.

"And here's your second little boy."

The smile on Tommy's face when (Y/n) looked up at him was unlike any she had seen before.

It wasn't often that (Y/n) saw Tommy cry. Only in the dead of night after a vivid nightmare or after a rough shift or the very odd, few days when he was feeling low. (Y/n) could probably count on both hands the times she had seen Tommy cry and the only time she saw happy tears was when they were dancing on their wedding day.

But now, with just a few tears in his eyes and one trickling down the side of his nose, he looked so endearing and beautiful.

When he leaned down to kiss the top of their boy's head, (Y/n) tilted her head up and caught his lips in a kiss. She nudged their noses together, grinning when he let go of her hand to brush his fingers along the side of her cheek. With his other hand still cradling the back of their boy's head.

(Y/n) leaned their foreheads together, barely hearing the nurse whisper that she would get their second boy cleaned up so they could hold them both in a moment.

But (Y/n) opened her eyes and looked up at Tommy when they both heard the doctor mutter "When was the last sonogram?" Panic fluttered to life in (Y/n)'s eyes and she moved her hand up to hold Tommy's hand again while she watched the confusion spread across his face like a wildfire.

"Last week… why?"

They'd had a scan last week to make sure the twins weren't moving or facing down. They had to make sure (Y/n) wasn't going to go into early labour before the planned date for this C-section and they needed to make sure the placenta hadn't moved down either. Everything had been fine at the scan. The boys hadn't moved, the placenta was in place. Blood flow and heartbeats had both been normal and healthy.

Was something wrong now?

What could have happened now? When both the boys were already out and they had seemed fine and healthy?

Was (Y/n) bleeding? Had she had some kind of internal trauma or haemorrhage that they hadn't noticed earlier?

"Tommy, w-what's wrong?" (Y/n) pulled on Tommy's hand and stared up at him while their second twin was taken from her chest. She tilted her head back and tried to look for both the boys but seeing the room from a flipped angle made her head spin and made her blood thump in her ears. "Are they okay?"

Surging panic propelled through (Y/n)'s system while she tried to find someone in the room who would tell her what was going on.

She felt Tommy grip her hand tightly while he nodded. He could see the nurses in the far corner of the room, they were cleaning up the boys and both of them were whimpering and wriggling around. Neither nurse seemed panicked or overly worried about the boys, so it couldn't be anything to do with them.

But that thought made Tommy's heart drop to the pit of his stomach like a stone. If it wasn't something to do with the twins, then it had to be about (Y/n). Was his wife okay?

"What's wrong?" Tommy leaned around the curtain and looked across at the doctor with such a stern look that it made the room drop ten degrees and had everyone shivering.

"No, no it's nothing to worry about."

Somehow, (Y/n) didn't believe the doctor's words. She pulled on Tommy's hand and tried to push herself up on her elbows until Tommy gently nudged her back down. She leaned to the left to try and look at the doctor, but her view of him was obscured and she realised his eyes were focused intently on her stomach with something akin to surprise written across his face.

"(Y/n), it seems we have a third wriggler hiding away in here." He smiled through his words which made (Y/n)'s heartbeat ignite and bring the monitor to live beside them.

"T-triplets?"

That couldn't be right. None of their other scans had showed any signs of a third baby. They were having twins. They had been preparing for the last six months to have twins since they went to their first appointment and found out.

It had been a shock that they were having twins on their first pregnancy. Two for the price of one. (Y/n) had even joked that Tommy had planned this somehow because they had been so eager to have a baby after they got married. But they hadn't thought about triplets.

(Y/n) desperately wanted to move her hands down and run them across her stomach but she felt Tommy tugging on her hand like he knew what she was thinking and was preventing her from doing so. She didn't think she looked big enough to be having triplets. She hadn't always looked like she was having twins. The first five months she just looked a little further ahead in her pregnancy. But even now, whenever she told people she was having twins, they were surprised.

How could there be three hiding away in here?

"Really?" Surprise flooded Tommy's voice and when (Y/n) looked up at him, she saw a mixture of emotions on his face. His eyes looked dazed, as if he was going to pass out, but the way his lips parted into an open-mouthed smile showed he was growing excited at this prospect.

"Another boy?" (Y/n)'s voice shook as she waited, watching Tommy's expression as he watched the doctor gently scoop up a third baby.

He wasn't mistaken. He wasn't trying to make some kind of joke out of this or torment them or just play around. They really did have a third baby hiding away in there.

They were going to have to make a few adjustments when they went home. They had prepped for taking two babies back home with them, not three. Two cribs. A double pram. They were going to need extra sets of bottles and a few more baby grows. About a hundred more nappies. The nursery was going to have to be changed around- again.

Tommy was going lightheaded at the thought and he tried to drag himself out of his mind and focus again while his eyes locked on his third little baby.

"Oh, you have a little lady, this time."

(Y/n) choked on a laugh when she watched a tiny bundle be laid on her chest. They had a girl. They had been preparing for the last six months to bring two boys home. Now they were going to have to prepare to bring a little girl home with them too.

"She's so small." (Y/n) carefully danced her fingertips over her daughter's cheek, feeling her smile spread until she could barely look down at her little girl.

She was miniscule. With her legs curled up to her tummy and her arms pinned into her chest, she barely looked the size of a teddy bear. No wonder (Y/n) hadn't looked like she was having triplets. She would barely look pregnant at all if she was just having their daughter and she came out that small. The boys had clearly been hiding her away from them. Keeping her as a surprise.

"I think the boys got the most preference and nutrients… she's going to need a little bit of extra help."

Tilting her head back, (Y/n) nudged her head against Tommy's hand when he let go of her hand so he could crouch down beside her. His hand brushed against her cheek as more tears started to fall down his face and (Y/n) was sure this was the happiest she had ever seen him. And her eyes lit up when Tommy reached his free hand across and started to drag his fingertip up and down their daughter's cheek.

She was going to be tiny when she was in Tommy's arms.

"Where were you hiding her, honey?"

***

Hen: Congratulations! How's (Y/n) and the boys, did everything go okay? xx

Chim: We're very happy for you. Are you all okay and settled?

Eddie: Hope everything went smoothly. Whenever you're up for visitors Chris would love to come down and say hi. x

Buck: Happy Birthday! (To the twins) Can I see a picture? Please?

(Y/n) rolled her lips together, obscuring her smile as she looked at the texts that had popped up over the last few hours. She could almost hear all their excited voices and feel the love radiating from their messages. It was heart-warming.

Buck's message played on (Y/n)'s mind as she looked across the room towards her husband.

He was starting to fall asleep.

His head was tilted down until his chin was just about resting on his chest and he was slouched in the chair with his knees pushed forward. But he had Grace in the crook of his left arm. The newborn was miniscule and swamped when she was laid in Tommy's arm. The way his bicep flexed and how his forearm tensed around her almost engulfed her from sight with how broad Tommy was compared to how tiny and compact their daughter was.

He had been holding the boys for quite a while earlier and had switched to Grace when James and Jake had both fallen asleep and were now in the cribs in the corner of the room.

When she looked back down at Tommy's phone that she had been holding for the last hour, taking photos and sending pictures to family, she smiled.

She set up a group message to Hen, Chimney, Buck and Eddie and attached one of the photos she'd taken an hour ago. A picture of Tommy with one of the boys in each arm and the widest smile she'd ever seen on his lips.

*Here's the proud papa with the boys. Say hi to James (left) and Jake (right). xx

She attached the message to the bottom of the picture and hit send before she slowly sat forward, being mindful of the new set of stitches across the very bottom of her stomach.

She held the phone out towards Tommy, waiting a dew seconds when his eyes began to flicker before they fell closed again and she took the opportunity to snap a quick picture. Loving the contrast in the photos which showed just how small Grace was compared to the boys. Along with the fact that she was wearing a smaller, blushing pink cap over her head and had a tube taped into her nose to help her get a bit more oxygen

*And say hello to Grace, our surprise. xx

When the message sent, (Y/n) was about to put the phone on the side table. She had been too hyped to sleep earlier but the epidural was starting to wear off now and she was beginning to feel drained. But before the phone was even out of her hands, it began to vibrate and ping with messages.

All of them simultaneous. All of them saying the same thing. Just one simple word.

*Triplets?!!

#911 imagine #imagine #tommy x reader #tommy kinard 911 #tommy kinard #tommy kintommy kinard x reader

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storiesofsvu · 5 months ago

Text

Decadent Desires Ch 14

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, smut eluded to briefly, mentions of typical BAU type stuff. If any of y’all are my ao3 ppl, bless you & thank you for all the extra comments & chatting about this story! I absolutely love hearing all your thoughts/opinions/what you think is gonna happen. Like, yes please, send me your full book reports! Everybody gets an A++

After last chapter; for anyone who might want to look into more Heather Dunbar, all her works can be found here

Your eyes twitched, daring to open long before you wanted them to and you stifled a yawn, shifting slightly in the bed. As your senses came to you could feel Heather’s arm very loosely thrown over your waist, though it wasn’t an act of intimacy and definitely wasn’t cuddling. You’d accidentally fallen asleep in her bed the night prior before she could even bring you a bottle of water, exhausted from the heat and sun and thoroughly fucked. She stayed up for another couple of hours before turning in herself and sometime during her sleep had rolled over closer to you, her hand flopping across your hip.

The chirping out the window became too much and you knew you weren’t going to get anymore sleep, no matter how hard you tried. Your eyes cracked open, looking at the clock on the nightstand, at least it was already past nine, you’d gotten a little bit of a sleep in. Tossing Heather’s arm off you, you groaned softly as you sat up, stretching out your body and rolling your neck, a couple of joints cracking as you did so.

“Why the hell are you up?” She grumbled, burying her face into the pillow.

“Our flight’s at noon.” You yawned, “I’ve got to start packing.”

“I own the fucking plane. We take off when I say we take off.”

“Check out is also at noon.” You chuckled, swatting at her hip as you stood from the bed, beginning to collect your clothes that were scattered across the floor.

“You really think I didn’t already pay them off for a three p.m. checkout?” She finally opened her eyes, rubbing at them as she looked up at you and you laughed softly again.

“Then sleep. I need to shower and pack and probably get a few things ready for the week, we were so focused on the retreat I know I must’ve been missing a few things back home.” You crossed through the open door back to your room.

“God.” She huffed, dropping onto her back into the pillows as she picked up her phone, “it better not be fucking snowing back home.”

“Heather please, it barely snows in D.C.” You laughed as you hastily folded the clothes in your hands, dropping them into your open suitcase as you glanced around the room. “Hey, is Rob still off on Sundays?”

“Yeah.” She called back, “he said something about wanting to make a late dinner tonight.”

“You think you can ask him to meet us at the jet?”

“Why?” She sat up, holding the bedsheet to her chest as concern took over her face, knowing just how much a week of travel and this amount of sun exposure could affect you, “are you feeling sick? I need you for that merger meeting.”

“I’m fine.” You cast a look over your shoulder as you wrapped a towel around you, “I’ve just got a date with Prentiss on Wednesday.”

“Sweetheart, you’re in the clear.” She assured and it was your turn to chuckle.

“Heat… how many people are you currently fucking?”

“In D.C?” She asked and you nodded, “three not including Rob. But you know I don’t let them fuck me and I don’t share toys.”

“Not the point. It was in the contract I signed and Rob is far faster and more convenient than me taking time off my precious and very important job to see my gyno.”

“I will call him and tell him what time to meet us.”

“Thank you.” You shot her a smile, digging through your suitcase for classy yet comfortable clothes for the plane ride home.

“If you’re going to all that effort you may as well come back in here for one last round.”

“Go back to sleep Heather!” You called back, disappearing from the doorway and Heather heard the shower starting a moment later, letting out a sigh as she dropped back into the bedsheets.

Emily could not wait a second longer to get out of this hell hole and back home, preferably without a stop at the BAU first. Every case was teetering the line on rough, things that no normal human would be okay with witnessing or being around and this one was no different. This time there was the added affect that no matter how hard the team tried, they were always a second too late, never finding a living victim, an hour behind the unsub every step of the way until they’d finally baited him into it. Not only was she exhausted and not looking forward to the amount of paperwork that was going to come across her desk because of this week, but she really didn’t want to get the lecture she knew was coming from Bailey.

She stashed her bag into one of the cupboards, retreating to the back of the jet to drop down into the corner seat, letting out a weary sigh as she ran a hand over her face, pinching at the bridge of her nose. She just needed to get home and she would be able to handle this. Thankfully no one else really wanted to socialize either, finding more private spots on the jet, curling up in seats and couches until the plane was at cruising altitude and most everyone was asleep. She dozed off a bit herself, thankful for the rest though she wished it was more when she stirred in her seat, eyes cracking open to find they were still another few hours from Washington.

A fresh mug of steaming and very welcomed coffee found itself on the table in front of her as Tara hovered in the aisle beside the quad of seats.

“You okay?” She asked gently.

“Yeah.” Emily replied with a huff, picking up the mug, “that just… fucking sucked.”

“Man it really did.” The other woman groaned, dropping into the seat across from her, “but remember…we got him.” Her hand reached out, squeezing at her knee, “he won’t hurt anyone else.”

“I just really wish we’d clued in earlier, could’ve saved a lot of people a hell of a lot of hurt.”

“I know.” Tara replied, “so do I.” With another squeeze of her knee she settled back into her chair, taking a sip of her coffee, “we’ll do better next time.”

“Mmm.” She nodded.

“Thanks, for the extra days off by the way.” Tara commented, noting that while they were heading home on a Sunday that Emily had made the call the BAU wouldn’t be functioning until Wednesday.

“You guys need it.” She sighed, “after a case like this, everyone needs time to disassociate and pretend like there’s nothing wrong in the world.” Her gaze drifted out the window, “JJ needs to see her family, spend time with them, hug them so tight it’s like she’ll never let them go. You better be going to see Rebecca; remember why we do what we do to keep the world safe….”

“And what about you?” She asked after a quiet moment, watching the way Emily’s face twitched as she stared out the window a moment longer before turning back to her and waving her off.

“I’ll be fine. I’ve been doing this a long time.”

“I know you have, and I’m not profiling, I’m doctor-ing, so you can’t lecture me.” Tara leant in on the table between them, “deny it all you want, but you have someone right now who means something in your life. It could be a new friend and that’s it, but it also could be something more and I don’t need to know any details right now, but I want to make sure you’re not just going home alone to a bottle of wine tonight.”

Emily huffed, taking another sip of coffee, “she was out of town this week, I’m not even sure when she’s back.”

“Hey…” Tara’s hand slid across the table, squeezing at her own, “whatever change you’ve made recently? It’s been a good one. You’ve been happier, more energetic, getting out of work on time and spending your weekends actually doing something. I haven’t seen you do anything other than work since we came back, so call her please… for me?”

“I’ll think about it, but I’m not making promises. I’ve got a mountain of paperwork and god knows Bailey’s gonna be blowing up my phone once he hears about the case.” She sighed, though her lips curved up into a soft smile and Tara relaxed into the seat across from her, giving her a knowing look before Emily’s gaze drifted out the window again.

Once home you began the usual post travel routine, make sure to immediately unpack, dumping clothing directly into the laundry and setting aside those that needed to go to the dry cleaners. You sorted through your work bag, filing everything correctly, stashing half away in your home office and packing the rest back up to have on the go. A quick clean out of the fridge, tossing anything that had unfortunately gone bad over the course of the week before putting in a grocery order and deciding to rely on take out for dinner. Finally, it was time for a luxurious everything shower. It didn’t matter how expensive or fancy the resort was, you always preferred your own shower, the water pressure and temperature was perfect, you had all of your own skin and hair products and didn’t have to worry about taking too much time or how many other people’s feet had touched the tub.

You wandered back downstairs just in time for your dinner to arrive, making sure to leave a hefty tip for the driver as it was much later than you’d normally order and the weather was starting to turn. Not even waiting to fully unbox everything you dug a fork into the chow mein, your stomach growling heavily already, stuffing a few forkfuls into your mouth. When you turned to grab a bottle of wine your eyes landed on the practically overflowing recycle bin and glancing over to the calendar you let out a groan, it was getting picked up in the morning, but only if it was in the alley.

With an annoyed sigh, you grabbed a sweater, shoved on a pair of slip-ons and grabbed the bin to trek through the yard and dump in the appropriate place. Back inside you locked the door behind you, a shiver moving through you at the chilly air lingering in your kitchen as you washed your hands and finally poured out a glass of wine. A sip of that and another mouthful of noodles and there was a knocking coming from the front door. A quick glance to your phone confirmed you hadn’t missed anything so you padded over to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open to find Emily on the other side.

“Hey.”

Your voice broke her out of her trance of worry, fully registering that she actually had shown up at your door in practically the middle of the night. Her eyes flicked over your form, her shoulders relaxing at just how cozy and at peace you looked, leggings and loose sweater, your hair still damp and messily braided to keep it out of the way while your face was bare of any make up.

“Hey.” Emily replied, mimicking your soft smile. Her ears picked up the sound of laundry going in the distance and she spotted your work bag sitting right inside the entry, eyes flicking up to the kitchen to your barely touched take out and she suddenly put it together, wincing, “oh shit! I’m so sorry, you just got back.” She couldn’t help it, glancing over her shoulder as if it would be a better idea to retreat to her car, “this is outta line, I should’ve called. I just… man today really fucking sucked…”

You practically snorted at the out of line phrase, your hand reaching out to pinch at her elbow, waving her into your home, “it’s fine, come on in.”

You lead her into the kitchen, urging her to take a seat at the island as you stripped off the sweater, now back in the warmth of the house. “Wine?” You asked, opening the cupboard, “or something stronger?”

“Something stronger, please.” She grumbled, running a hand over her face. She glanced up at the sound of you sliding a tumbler of bourbon over to her and her eyes landed on the cotton ball stuck to the inside of your arm, “are you okay?”

“Hmm?” You asked, looking over your shoulder to her as you stashed the bottle back in the cupboard and she gestured to your arm. “Oh,” you let out a small huff of a laugh, ripping the band aid off and tossing both into the garbage, “yeah, just had some blood taken.” You slid back onto your stool, picking up the carton of noodles and gesturing to the others, “you hungry?”

“No, thank you.” She let out a weary sigh, taking a long drink of her booze.

“Emily… are you okay?”

She glanced up at you, her eyes flitting between your oh so cozy aura, the barely touched food, prime wine that you were trying to enjoy and she let out a huff, nearly pushing back from the island. “god, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have just shown up like this.”

You managed to catch her hand before she had managed to actually push her stool back, “Em… I said it was fine.” You squeezed gently, urging her to sit back down and she did.

“It’s just.. I’m not exactly.. uh.. up to my normal caliber and definitely not in the headspace for our normal activities…” She nearly avoided your gaze and you let out a soft laugh.

“And that’s perfectly fine.” You reassured her, nudging her glass closer toward her, “compensation doesn’t always have to be sexual. There’s an entire other dynamic to it, companionship means support too. Contrary to what you may think, I do actually enjoy spending time with you and that will always include outside the bedroom.”

She let out a deep breath, “my brain is still trying to sort out the whole sugar baby situation and I think I’m just overcomplicating things. I kind of figured it was a sex for money but make it…morally legal.” She nearly laughed at her own words, pulling a small grin from you.

“There are plenty of sugar baby relationships that don’t even involve sex. Some people are just lonely, or scared of doing things by themselves so they have someone go with them to lunch, movies, opera, the theatre. Hell I’ve heard of a few old married couples where the wife has a passion for arts and the husband would much rather sit at home with the game on, if he doesn’t have to suffer through it himself, he has absolutely no qualms with a much younger man escorting his wife.”

“So I really am overthinking things?” She asked, looking back up to you with a soft smile and you chuckled.

“Yeah.”

“I still feel bad about intruding on your evening.”

“It’s not like I had much planned.” You shrugged, “now c’mon, help yourself to food, I’m definitely not going to finish it all.”

“Oh, I couldn’t.”

“Em..” you warned, “when was the last time you ate? Truthfully.”

“Before we got on the jet.” She winced and you cast her a glare.

“We’ve got noodles, rice, beef and broccoli or ginger chicken.” You pushed the containers toward her, “help yourself.”

She picked up a fork and the container of rice, taking a couple of bites while a comfortable silence took over the room and she was finally able to relax a bit. It was then that she started to realize more of the meaning behind your words, and why she was so drawn to showing up at your house in the first place (and why Tara had been so insistent on it). If she had just gone home she would likely be pouring over case files and attempting to get as much paperwork done as possible to get ahead before Bailey got into things with her. Sleep wouldn’t have been an option until it was all done, she definitely wouldn’t have eaten and a bottle of wine would have been her best friend. Instead being inside your kitchen felt warm, welcoming, simply having another human in the same room made her remember that there was so much else to life than just work. Things didn’t have to be so dreary and boring all the time.

“How was Florida?” She asked after a few moments.

“It was decent.” You shrugged, “secured a good amount of supporters, got some up and comers onto our ideas, reminded myself I’m not actually terrible at tennis and managed to only have my ass grabbed four times while congressmen tried to teach me how to golf.”

“Ew.” Her nose crinkled and you laughed, “I hope this doesn’t sound bad, but do you… have to like, play dumb a lot around them?”

“Oh no, I actually am completely horrible at golf. And you only get one chance to truly play dumb around them before they realize how much potential you could or do have and only certain ones feed into the dumb, some see right through it.”

“So you’ve got to know how to read them even quicker?”

“Yup.” You took a sip of your wine, “Heather always said it’s best to slide in with a hint of sensuality, let that be the bait and you have a matter of minutes to figure out whether you’re going low or high status to get them wrapped around your finger. The guys, it was go low. Do I have a very successful career with one of the highest ranked Senators in the country? Of course, but that completely slips their minds on a retreat like that when I’m wearing a cute outfit serving them drinks filling the role of cart girl.”

“Huh.” She replied, digging through the container before taking another bite and silence took over the room again. Though this time there was something lingering in the air and after a few minutes you chose to speak up.

“I take it your week wasn’t as good?”

Emily let out a heavy breath, “just a really bad case. I don’t want to drag you down with details but it was one of the worst we’ve seen in a while and in the end we barely caught the guy.”

“You sure you don’t want to talk about it? I promise I can handle the gory details; Tony never holds back; I actually think he over exaggerates to make himself sound cooler…”

“Tony?” Her brow furrowed.

“Agent friend.” You replied with a shrug.

“Ah,” she poked around at the rice again, “and no, but thanks. I think I just really didn’t want to be alone tonight.”

“Alright.” You cast her a warm smile, closing the lid on your take out as you stood from the island. You were full and Emily had done nothing but play with her food for a while now, you were sure she wasn’t going to eat anything else. “How about we take the bottle of wine upstairs then?”

“Oh, but I—” she stumbled over her words and you laughed softly, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder.

“I’m not going to pounce on you, don’t worry. The tv in the bedroom’s nicer and it’s getting late, may as well fall asleep in the bed rather than have to drag ourselves from the couch later.”

She let out an awkward laugh, closing the rice container and sliding it over to you, “oh, right.”

You looked back at her, reaching your hand out as she slipped off her stool, “C’mere.” Tugging her to you she let out a little ‘oop’ as your arms wound around her, wrapping her into a tight hug. A wave of relief crashed over you as she let out a content sigh, relaxing into the embrace and the tension in her shoulders finally began to drip away. You pressed a soft kiss to the side of her head, squeezing at her once more before gently pulling away.

“Thank you.” She murmured softly, giving you a tired smile.

“Anytime.” Your hand trailed down her arm, curling around hers as you turned to the staircase, “now come on, you need some good cuddles and sleep, number one recommendation from doctors after a rough week.”

_______________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird bird @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @supercorpstan97 @asolitaryrose3 @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice @d33pd3sire-blog @daffodil-heart @maximoffcarter @i-lovefandom @chimnlex @moonlightjxuregui @chestnutninny @gamma-rae-bursts @just-moondust @idkifimasub @gaydragonwitch @dowsedwithbleach @divergentalwaysandforever-blog

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #decadent desires #emily prentiss x fem!reader #criminal minds fanfic #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss series

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justagalwhowrites · 4 months ago

Text

The Savage and the Sanctuary - Ch. 2: Teenagers

You and Joel adjust to each other as you struggle with Ellie. A continuation of The Savage and the Sanctuary, a no outbreak TLOU story, from the prologue through chapter 1 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Mild suicidal ideation. Mention of grief and child loss. Mention of parent loss. No use of Y/N. Whole fic will be explicit so minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 13.4k

A/N: For some reference because I haven't explicitly stated their ages, Joel is turning 42 in this chapter and was about to turn 37 in the flashback at the start of this chapter. Reader is 36 (meaning they were the same ages when their kids were born.)

Wednesday, September 25, 2019

“Dad, please!”

Joel sighed, leaning against his counter and sipping his coffee, his 16-year-old daughter standing in front of him with wide, pleading eyes.

“It’s a school night, baby girl,” he said. “We both gotta be up early tomorrow and…”

“And we could play hooky!” She said. “Celebrate your birthday, go to Waffle House…”

“I don’t like waffles.”

“Those are for my benefit,” she replied. “You can get your smothered hash browns and see if they’ll put candles in them so you can celebrate being an old man.”

“I can’t just call into work because it’s my birthday tomorrow, kiddo,” he said. “And your friend should have her party on the weekend…”

“But her birthday’s today!” She said. “It’s sweet 16, please! Everyone’s going, basically no one is going to be at school on Thursday because of it, please Dad!”

He sighed again, Sarah still looking so hopeful in front of him.

And then, her face shifted.

“We could go see the new Curtis and Viper tomorrow,” she smirked, brows raised conspiratorially. “We’ll probably have the theater to ourselves so we can make fun of it.”

Joel clenched his jaw to keep from smiling.

“Come on, Dad,” she said. “You worked so late on your birthday last year that we didn’t get to do anything. Please?”

He sighed.

“What would you miss at school tomorrow?”

“Basically nothing!” She said quickly, eyes lighting up. “I have exam review but I got As on all my homework in that class so I don’t need it and…”

“Jesus, you’re a bad influence,” he muttered, taking a sip of coffee. Sarah squealed, slamming into him, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Thank you thank you thank you!” She said, her voice muffled by his shirt before she pulled back at looked up at him, practically beaming. “We’re going to have so much fun tomorrow!”

“Somethin’ tells me you’re more excited about having fun tonight than hanging out with me tomorrow,” he shook his head but smiled all the same. “Who all’s goin’ to this thing tonight? There gonna be boys and drinking and shit?”

“Dad,” she gave him a look.

“You can act all grown up all you want, baby girl, but you’re still a kid,” he said. “Want you to have fun but don’t want you doing anything too dangerous…”

“My friends don’t drink…”

“You say that now,” he muttered.

“…and Brit’s parents will be there so while there will be boys, nothing’s going to happen with the boys.”

“Alright,” he sighed. “But you gotta promise me you’re gonna be safe, no gettin’ in the car with someone who’s been drinking. Even just one beer is too much and you call me if you don’t have another way home, I’ll come get you, you won’t be in trouble and…”

“I know, Dad,” she rolled her eyes but smiled a little. “Don’t worry so much. I don’t plan on getting drunk anytime soon. Maybe inject heroin under my fingernails but…”

“Your fingernails, huh?” Joel teased.

“Well yeah,” she said. “Gotta hide the track marks.”

There was a honk from the driveway and Sarah grabbed what was left of her coffee - more creamer than actual coffee but Joel still liked to humor her - and chugged it.

“That’s Emma,” she said, rinsing out her favorite mug, the chipped one with the owl on it that she’d been drinking hot cocoa out of since she was so small that it was more like room temperature cocoa, and setting it beside the sink. “I’m going to go to her place after school to get ready for the party since you’ll probably be at work, anyway.”

“Yeah, should stay late and try and wrap up as much as I can since apparently I’m not workin’ tomorrow,” he smirked. “Home by midnight, OK baby girl?”

“Yup!” She said, giving him a quick hug. He gave her a squeeze, pressing a kiss to her temple. “See you tonight!”

“Be safe!” He called after her as she grabbed her backpack and headed for the front door.

When she looked back over her shoulder to wave goodbye, he didn’t know it would be the last time he’d ever see her smile.

***

Thursday, September 26, 2024

It was still dark outside.

Joel wasn’t sure what time it was but it was still dark outside so it was OK. He didn’t need to be aware of things like time or hunger or your safety when it was still dark and he was in his daughter’s room.

He jerked awake not too long after midnight, just like he’d done every year on his birthday ever since Sarah died. He wasn’t sure why he even bothered trying to sleep in his own bed, as though anything would be different. Why would it be different? The only thing that mattered was gone, it couldn’t be different.

He stared at his ceiling for a while, waiting to see if he’d be able to fall asleep again, if he could shake the feeling of phantom blood on his skin in the red glow of his alarm clock but he couldn’t. So he did what he always did on the morning of his birthday: he went to his daughter’s room.

Joel rarely went to Sarah’s room now. Maria, his sister in law, probably spent more time in there than he did, coming by every few months while he was on a job to dust and run the vacuum so it didn’t fall to ruin. She was careful to not disturb things when she did, the t-shirt Sarah had worn to sleep in still draped over the back of her desk chair and the book she’d been reading still face down on the page she’d stopped at on her nightstand. He turned on the lamp and sank onto the bed - still unmade, like she’d left it that morning - staring at the poster-covered walls.

The posters were old now, the sun fading them in the five years that had passed since his daughter had left him behind. It made the room seem like a relic, as though this space was a museum and not a place where someone had lived once, and it set Joel on edge.

Five years. Half a decade without the most important person there’d ever been or ever would be. She’d only been 16 when she died and five years had passed so quickly. Soon, she’d have been gone as long as she’d been here. Soon, to the sun-bleached posters and peeling soccer trophies, it would be like she’d never been here at all.

He found himself looking at the poster of you more than he remembered doing before when he’d been in this room before. It was strange, knowing you existed outside of this liminal space now. You were real, corporeal, a human being with thoughts and feelings and not some imagined thing with an almost disturbingly perfect face someone had invented and put on paper.

It had been a three days since Joel had seen you last, spending 11 days working with three days off in between. Tommy had been hesitant to schedule him back on duty today of all days but Joel had all but insisted on it. He needed the distraction. More than that, he needed to keep out of trouble. He needed something to keep him from trying to find the person responsible for his daughter’s death and killing them himself. Protecting you was a good enough distraction.

Yours was the first contract like this Joel had taken on, one that was longer and more involved. Typically, people who needed someone on hand 24/7 didn’t live in Austin, Texas. They passed through and Joel’s job was done in a week, two at most. You were more complicated.

Part of that was the nature of the job, of course. Working in such close proximity and in such risky situations made shit complicated.

He’d had to establish rules with you that first day after dropping Ellie off at school. He ground his teeth as you went by a small local coffee shop on your way home, you giving a fake name at the counter as the barista all but stared at you.

“I’m so sorry,” the girl smiled sheepishly. “But has anyone told you that you look just like…”

“Oh yeah,” you waved her off. “I get that all the time. Not sure why, I think she’s way prettier.”

Joel resisted the urge to snap at you until the two of you were back to the car, you still refusing to let him drive as you sipped your overpriced coffee with a contented sigh.

“Can I help you?” You asked him, brows raised, as you watched him over the rim of your cup.

“You tryin’ to get yourself killed?” He said.

“Didn’t realize the coffee shop was so dangerous…”

“You know what I mean,” he snapped. “You’re bein’ reckless.”

“I get coffee all the time back home and -”

“And you got yourself a fucking stalker, didn’t you?” He cut you off. “S’why you’re stuck with me, spent too much time runnin’ around doing whatever the fuck you wanted and now you’re payin’ the price.”

“No, I’m paying the price because the studio is overreacting,” you said, condescension dripping from your voice. “Pretty sure I’d still be sitting in my car sipping a coffee if you were off promising to take a bullet for someone else.”

You held his gaze as you took a drink, as if to make a point.

“I don’t know why this is fuckin’ news to you, but you’re one of the most famous people on the goddamn planet,” he snapped. “That shit comes with problems. If you didn’t want to deal with those problems, maybe you shouldn’t have become fuckin’ famous.”

You looked at him, like you were trying to hold back a laugh, eyebrows raised so high they almost disappeared into your hairline.

“You think I chose to become famous?” You asked. “You think I wanted this?”

“Ain’t that why people become actresses,” he said more than asked.

You just looked at him for a moment, like you were examining him.

“You don’t have many friends, do you?” You said after a moment.

He ground his teeth.

“Got as many as I need,” he said. “Let’s get you home before I have to take a damn bullet because you’re stubborn.”

“Yes, I’m sure the woman driving that minivan is packing,” you said wryly but putting the car in drive all the same. “Very dangerous.”

“It’s Texas,” he said, voice flat. “She probably is.”

But instead of going home, you drove to Whole Foods. Fucking Whole Foods.

Joel was almost positive it was to piss him off but you completely ignored him as you went up and down the aisles, filling up your cart as he tried to watch for whatever threats might be at a goddamn grocery store while you acted like your goddamn baseball cap made you invisible to whoever might be looking for you.

“I know you got people for this,” he muttered under his breath, putting his body between you and as much of the rest of the store as he could as you meticulously selected an apple. “Should fuckin’ carry you out of here…”

“Yes but that would cause a scene, wouldn’t it?” You said, smug. “And that’s even MORE dangerous, right?”

He narrowed his eyes at you and moved to respond but cut him off.

“What do you think of this apple?” You thrust it under his nose. “It smells good, right?”

“It’s a goddamn apple.”

“Yes, but I need to try to get a teenager to eat it,” you sighed, impatient. “I need it to be appealing. Would you eat it if you were a teenager?”

“If I tell you yes, will you shut the fuck up and get out of here?”

“Maybe.”

“Then yeah, I’d eat the goddamn apple, let’s go.”

You smiled a little, satisfied, and got several apples and added them to the cart before taking your sweet time going through the rest of the store.

Eventually, you finished your shopping trip and actually got ready to go home. The only person who seemed to recognize you at the store was the cashier, who gaped at you as much as one person could gape at another while they rang up their items.

“That will be $267.48,” she said and you went to put your credit card but then she jumped. “Oh, wait! I can put in my discount…”

“You don’t need to do that,” you laughed. “But you’re sweet to offer!”

“But…”

“How about you put that discount in for someone else who comes through your line today,” you smiled.

“OK,” she smiled a little hesitantly. “Sorry, I’ve just never had someone famous come through my line before.”

“First time for everything,” you winked, putting your card in the machine.

The cashier kept staring at you.

“No one is going to believe I met you,” she said eventually. “I wish I had my phone so I could take a selfie…”

“Want an autograph?” You asked as the machine chimed. “Don’t need a phone for that.”

Instead of answering, she scrambled to get some blank receipt paper and a pen and Joel could tell you were trying not to laugh. You wrote on the paper quickly and handed it back before giving the cashier a smile.

“You have a great day, Mina,” you said.

She looked up from the paper with wide eyes.

“How’d you know my name?”

You smiled a little bigger and nodded to her name badge.

“See you next time,” you said and she beamed.

“Shit like that is stopping,” Joel said once the two of you were safely back in your house, behind the gate and fence that surrounded your property. “You got no damn reason to take risks like that…”

“Yes I do,” you said, defiant, arms crossed.

“What,” he demanded. “What’s your damn reason.”

“I want to take care of my kid,” you stuck your chin out. “That means going to the grocery store sometimes. I’m sure that’s a new concept for you since I’m sure you subsist exclusively off fast food and have never thought about looking after anyone but yourself…”

Joel tightened his jaw, trying to keep the sharp stab of loss from showing on his face.

“You don’t need to go yourself,” he snapped. “Send someone.”

You stepped closer to him, close enough that he could smell your skin, sweet and soft and he resented it.

“I want to take care of her,” you said. “Me. She lost her mother, the person who used to do shit like make her dinner and pick out her snacks. I want to do that for her. Me, not someone I pay. So you just need to accept the fact that I’m going to go to the store because I’m not stopping.”

“Fine,” he snapped, not about to admit that what you said tugged at him a bit. He remembered going to the store, looking for things that he thought Sarah might like. Things to put in her backpack so she had a snack for school when she got hungry between her afternoon classes or to have waiting for her when she got home. He remembered her favorite foods and how she lit up when he made burgers the way she liked or brought home her favorite cereal. He remembered how lucky he felt to be the person who got to know her in this way, to know her favorite things and be the one to get them for her. “But we’re doin’ it on my terms. This will be a whole lot easier on both of us as soon as you get with the program because I’m not letting you get us both killed because you’re stubborn. Got it?”

He laid out the rules: You were to never leave the house without him or whoever was filling in for him on his days off. You needed to run your proposed schedule for the week by him so he could make necessary changes - varying your comings and goings as much as possible so you would be unpredictable. You needed to give him full access to your property and any existing security infrastructure so he could check for possible weaknesses. And you needed a code name, one that would be used for the whole team so when there was a handoff or a situation that required additional security, communication was short and easily understood.

“That seems like overkill,” you rolled your eyes. “It’s not like I’m the fucking president…”

“When it’s a shit situation and we need to know who has you, we need it,” he said, harsher than he needed to. He was hard pressed to care, though. “We don’t need people stumbling over your name, not knowing if we’re using your first or last, and we really don’t need ‘em announcing your damn name where the wrong person could hear it and learn where you are.”

“Fine,” you said. “What are the rules for picking a code name then.”

“There aren’t any,” Joel said. “Yours is Siren.”

“Siren,” you looked at him, incredulous. “Seriously? I don’t get any say in this at all?”

“No,” he lied. “We pick for you and it’s Siren.” Your jaw twitched and Joel fought the urge to smirk. “What, don’t like it?”

You squared yourself, defiant.

“No, it’s perfect,” you said. “Derivative and dull, just what I’d expect from you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have real work to do.”

And with that, you stalked off to some far away corner of your massive fucking house, leaving the woman who’d answered the door for him that morning to show him around.

Joel tried to hide the almost spiteful sense of pride he got from getting under your skin. Because, fuck, if he had live with the reminder of that goddamn show then you had to, too.

He’d Googled you after he’d met you the day before, his chest tight the whole time. He saw your more recent film history and learned that you were older than he’d realized - you must have been in your 20s when you were playing a teenager on TV. He also learned that you didn’t talk much about the show that Sarah had loved so much and had made you a household name. He wondered if you loathed it as much as he did, if you got the same stomach churning feeling inside yourself when something made you think of it, the same one he got whenever he looked at your disturbingly perfect face.

Siren was the name of that goddamn show and the almost mocking nickname the male lead of the show had given your character, both of your characters fighting to make it as musicians in some bullshit story that was dramatized to hell and back. Joel recognized the guy, too - he was some fucking country star now, the kind who played bullshit instead of real country music - and he could feel, when he picked that name, that you’d hate it.

Normally, the person he was protecting got to pick their code name. But you didn’t know that and he needed to feel some sense of power over you. You loomed too large over him. He needed you to feel the way he did, a little helpless, a little out of control.

And you, stalking off in a huff over that damn name, made him feel better than it should.

Over the next week and a half, he was keenly aware that none of this, really, was your fault. It wasn’t your fault that you were tied so closely with his dead daughter. It wasn’t your fault that being around you was like living with an open wound, something tender and aching on him that he couldn’t seem to heal because you were near. It wasn’t your fault that he had gone through so much of the last five years numb to everything and now was almost shockingly aware of the constant pain that had been lingering below the surface.

But you were there and you were so much easier to blame than himself. He knew that, too. But it didn’t make him stop doing it, almost like he was watching himself make your life difficult without having any control over it.

He had to stay in your home to be available at all hours so he started getting up early to take your keys before you had a chance to make it downstairs in the morning so he could drive when taking Ellie to school. He made a habit of finishing the coffee when Esmo was busy elsewhere in the house and he knew you’d be coming back for another cup. He never accepted any kindness you offered, taking disconcerting pleasure in saying no lattes when you insisted on stopping for a coffee and telling you he didn’t want whatever food you offered him, choosing instead to eat frozen dinners alone in another part of the house away from you and Ellie and Esmo, too. He found a strange satisfaction in these small harms, as though they were earned in some way. You, embedded so deeply in the trappings of wealth and fame, surely deserved some inconvenience in your life. After all the pain you’d inadvertently caused him, it seemed like it was owed to him. He tried to ignore the fact that he didn’t like being the kind of person who took pleasure in hurting someone else who didn’t deserve it, even if it was only small hurts. He tried not to think about what Sarah would say if she could see what he was doing now.

Being away from you, though, made him more aware of it. The strange poison of wanting to make your life harder was further away when he was home and it was easier to see through it. You were probably dreading his return as much as he was dreading returning. He didn’t like who he became when he was near you and here he was, going back to the sphere of your influence to let it swallow him and turn him into a worse version of himself again.

Joel should tell Tommy to take him off this job. He knew that but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was never supposed to be this way with him and his brother. Joel was the older one, Joel was the one who had practically raised Tommy when their parents were gone. Tommy was never supposed to be the one to take care of him. He was never supposed to be the one to give him a fucking job or make sure he didn’t lose his house in the months after the death of his daughter. He owed his brother so much now. How could he tell him “Sorry, this simple job is just too much for me, find someone else.” Tommy asked Joel to protect you so he would.

Even if he hated it.

Dawn was just starting on the horizon when Joel decided to indulge himself for a minute, lying down gently on his daughter’s bed. He was careful to not disturb the blankets, he didn’t adjust the pillow. He let himself sink into the softness of her lavender sheets and twin-sized mattress, to be in the exact place she was the last morning of her life. He stared at the side of her nightstand - stickers she’d placed there starting to peel - and let himself remember what it was like to have someone as good as her love him.

He stayed there until her room as filled not with the artificial glow of streetlights but the unflinching light of day and got up as carefully as he lay down, going to the door and taking a last look at his daughter’s room on the morning of his fifth birthday since he’d stopped being a father, closing the door softly behind him.

The drive to your house went by too quickly for his liking and he pulled into the driveway at the same time you did, Seth - the guard who’d filled in for him while he had a few days off - laughing about something with you as the two of you got out of the car.

“Joel, good to see you man,” he said, still smiling as the two of you met Joel near your front door. “Ready to take over?”

“Don’t think I got much choice,” Joel said wryly.

“Good morning, Joel,” you said, your tone oddly cool. He just gave you a nod as Seth put the call in to dispatch.

“This is Cook,” Seth said. “Transferring custody of Siren to Big Miller.”

“Big Miller?” Your eyebrows shot up, looking between Seth and Joel. Seth covered the receiver on the phone.

“We got two Millers, he’s the older one,” he said, before going back to the call. “That’s correct…”

“Big Miller,” you smirked at Joel. “Oh there’s so much I can do with that…”

“Jesus,” Joel muttered as Seth handed him the phone. He confirmed he was taking over and ground his teeth as Seth hugged you goodbye like the pair of you were old fucking friends.

“Don’t let this asshole push you around too much,” Seth winked at you. “Deep down, he’s a big softie.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s a big something,” you said. Seth laughed. Joel glared. “See you next time.”

You watched Seth leave before heading into your house without another word. Joel followed you inside, trailing behind you as you otherwise ignored his presence, going to the kitchen to get a bottle of water before heading out back.

“Hey,” he called after you and you stopped at the edge of your pool, slowly turning to face him, brows raised. “The hell you goin’? I need your itinerary for the week, you know the drill.”

“No you don’t,” you said. “I decided I’d rather talk with someone who isn’t a huge fucking child so I gave it to Seth. Get it from him, Big Miller.”

You kept going, toward the pool house and Joel ground his teeth, jogging to catch up with you.

“Look,” he snapped but you rounded on him.

“You lied to me,” you said. “I could have picked my own stupid name, you just had to get the one up on me for whatever reason and now I have to deal with being called that stupid, goddamn…”

“If you and Seth are so cozy why didn’t you get him to change it for you, hm?” He cut you off.

“Because I’d rather not look like a fucking idiot to your entire company, thanks though,” you snapped. “If you hate me so much, why didn’t you just ask someone else to do this job?”

“If you hate havin’ me around, why didn’t you ask someone else to take over?” He countered. “Looked cozy enough with fuckin’ Seth!”

You laughed.

“Oh I’d never dream of giving you that satisfaction,” you said. “You want to torment me? Fine, two can play at that game. Just wait, you ain’t seen nothing yet, Big Miller.”

You stalked off toward the pool house again before turning back to face him.

“We’re leaving at noon,” you said. “If you want to know where to, better call fucking Seth and find out since you don’t have the people skills to get your charge to cooperate.”

He grit his teeth as you went inside and he stared at the door you’d disappeared through for a moment, half expecting you to come back out and rip into him again. But you didn’t and he went inside, finding Esmo in the kitchen cleaning up from breakfast.

“She’s in a fuckin’ mood,” Joel muttered, going to help himself to a cup of coffee.

“It was not an easy morning,” she said, holding a plate with a biscuit out to him. He took it with a frown. “Ellie’s a teenaged girl but even so…”

“What happened?” He asked, settling in at the breakfast bar.

“Not sure what set her off,” she sighed, putting the last pan in the drying rack before crossing her arms and leaning back against the counter, watching Joel. She reminded him of his mother, he realized, something grounding and sure about her. “But before they left, Ellie yelled that she wasn’t her mother. She didn’t say anything back but I could tell it hurt.”

Joel flinched, looking out the window at the back of the kitchen, toward the pool and pool house. Toward you. He and Sarah had rarely clashed, especially that badly, but she was still a teenaged girl who grew up without a mother. She still lashed out about it and he was still the one who had to weather her rage. He knew her pain was misdirected but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“I know you two don’t…” She paused, like she was searching for the words. “Get along. But she is just as human as you or I, Mr. Miller. Go easy on her today.”

“Told you, you can just call me Joel,” he said, dodging the rest of what she said. “I ain’t your boss, not gonna make you call me Mr. Miller…”

Esmo barked a laugh as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

“What?” He frowned.

“Do you think she makes me call her ma’am?” She asked. “Mr. Miller, she is my employer. I am not going to call her by her first name, regardless of what she asks. Right now, the same goes for you.”

He looked toward the pool house again. He’d assumed you’d told Esmo to call you ma’am, that you’d insisted on bullshit that put you on a different level than everyone else. Apparently, he was wrong.

That didn’t mean he had to like you, though.

Still, he almost felt bad for you as he got settled back into the room at your house that had become his. You’d been thrown into parenthood head first, none of the gradual build up that raising a child from birth provided. Instead, you were given a fully-fledged teenager with a chip on her shoulder. Anyone would struggle with that, even spoiled movie stars.

His patience wore thin, though, as noon came and went and you still hadn’t come in from the damn pool house. He wondered if you’d told him noon just to piss him off, to make him feel like he had to spend his morning biding his time until it was wasted only to do nothing but sit at home until the time came to pick up Ellie from school.

Eventually, he got tired of waiting for you and he stalked to the pool house, damn near ripping the door off its hinges as he went to find you, his eyes widening in surprise when he did.

Joel wasn’t sure what he was expecting to find there but it certainly wasn’t this. You were there, back to the door, headphones covering your ears as you swung again and again at a punching bag hanging from the ceiling.

“Hey!” He called but you either ignored him or couldn’t hear them, continuing your clumsy barrage on the bag. You clearly knew fuck all about fighting, your form rough and disjointed. Any punch you landed would be ineffectual at best, damaging to you at worst. It’d be comical if it wasn’t happening to someone whose safety he was responsible for.

“Hey!” He tried again. Nothing. He clenched his jaw and stalked over to you, hand closing around the band of your headphones to pull them off your head and you spun, breathless and shocked, to face him.

“What the fuck?” You reached to snatch the headphones back but he held them behind his back, out of reach. “Gimme those!”

“You actually got some place to fuckin’ be this afternoon or not?” He snapped. “Because I’m tired of waiting for you to get your act together…”

You stopped reaching for the headphones, still breathless, and checked your smart watch.

“Shit,” you panted, drooping a little. “I lost track of time… Give me 15 minutes, then we’ll go.”

He held the headphones out to you and you snatched them back roughly and Joel watched you stomp off toward the main house, sweat dripping down the nape of your neck and he tried loathe the way your leggings hugged every curve and arch of your legs and ass as you did.

You were ready to go in just 15 minutes, though, and still more beautiful than Joel was comfortable with you being. You smelled fresh, clean, some floral fucking body wash on your skin that was covered by more skin-tight athletic wear that revealed your shape to him, all the places that - were you any other woman - he’d want to sink his fingers into to pull you close. He clenched his jaw and he went to the driver’s seat but you stopped in front of him, staring him down.

“Not sure where you think you’re going,” you said.

“I’m driving,” he said. “You know the drill.”

“Oh, so you called Seth?” You asked, brows raised. “Know where we’re headed?”

He narrowed his eyes and you smirked.

“Didn’t think so,” you said. “Step aside, Big Miller. Maybe you can drive home.”

Joel considered, for a moment, fighting you on it. But, today of all days, he didn’t have the energy. He just stalked around to the passenger side of the car, trying his damndest to ignore the little smirk you got when he did.

He stared determinedly out the window as you drove, the odd, raw feeling he got in his chest when he looked at you a little too sharp today. He focused on the cars around him, watching for any kind of pattern, anything unusual, trying to lose himself in the work of keeping you alive. At least, then, he was still good at something. At least, then, there was still some purpose for him being here. Even if he didn’t want to be. The scar that had been at his temple for nearly five years itched.

He was so lost in it that he was almost surprised when you pulled up in front of not some insufferable coffee shop or unnecessary grocery store but an overpriced looking nursing home. You reached between Joel’s legs without a word and got your worn baseball cap from the glove box, tugging it down low over your face before grabbing your keys out of your bag and dropping them on Joel’s lap.

“Get comfy,” you said. “I’ll be at least an hour, probably two.”

“Hold on,” he said, but you ignored him, getting out of the car and heading toward the door. He caught you quickly, grabbing your arm and pulling you around go face him.

“What is your problem?” You snapped. “You’re always an asshole but Jesus you’re worse than usual today…”

“You really think I’m just gonna let you go do some photo-op alone?” He asked. “Not about to just wait in the car…”

“It’s not a photo-op,” you snapped. “It’s private, you don’t need to be involved…”

“The hell I don’t,” he snapped back. “Your ass dies and it ain’t private anymore. I’m going. Deal with that shit now.”

“Too bad for you,” you said, trying to pull your arm back from him but he held firm. Your clumsy little fight moves from the pool house earlier hadn’t done you any favors.

“You can either listen to me or I’ll put you over my shoulder and make you listen,” he said. “I don’t much care which it is.”

You stared him down, almost like you thought he wouldn’t do it. He was about to prove you wrong when you apparently decided instead, huffing indignantly.

“Fine,” you snapped. “You can sit in the lobby.”

“Fine,” he snapped back before following you inside.

A woman rushed to meet you at the door, speaking to you in hushed tones that even Joel, standing so close to you, had a hard time making out. She directed Joel to a comfortable looking room that reminded him of his grandmother’s living room as a child, the one that no one was allowed in to “keep the furniture nice.” There were no such concerns here, the arm chairs and couches looking comfortable and inviting if overly ornate, neat stacks of magazines on the antique coffee table in the middle of them. He ground his teeth, watching as the woman led you away.

You’d be out of sight. That made him uncomfortable. And he couldn’t trust you to actually call for help if you needed it. That made him more uncomfortable.

But… this wasn’t an especially public place. There was security keeping people out and the residents in. Chances were, there wasn’t anything that could really get to you in here. And if this wasn’t some bullshit media thing, it was probably fine to leave you to your own devices. At least for a little while.

So he settled on the couch, keeping an eye on the front doors while he absently picked up a magazine, some kind of trashy tabloid that Sarah used to flip through at the grocery store. It used to make him roll his eyes and tell her that she was rotting her brain and now he’d give anything to go back in time and buy out every newsstand he passed if it meant he got another 20 minutes waiting in line for to pay for groceries with her.

He wasn’t paying close enough attention to the magazine he picked up, though, and then bam, there you were yet again. Your picture was blurry and you were wearing sunglasses that were a little too big for your face and there was an iced coffee cup dangling from your hand.

Bombshell breakup the headline under your picture said. Hollywood’s brightest star back on the market!

Joel looked at the date, from almost a year ago now, and flipped to the pages about you. There were pictures of you walking with a woman who looked something like an older, red-headed version of Ellie and he realized he was looking at her mother. Your arms were crossed tightly over your stomach and your face was drawn, Ellie’s mother’s face concerned. It was strangely intimate, seeing you like this. It wasn’t like other paparazzi pictures of you he’d seen, the ones that looked somewhat staged or like you’d at least known you were being photographed. This seemed like an intrusion, something he wasn’t supposed to be seeing.

He looked at the pictures of you and Ellie’s mother for a while. He wasn’t sure how long, not really able to look away, when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

“Yeah,” he said gruffly when he answered.

“Hello Mr. Miller,” Esmo said, her tone still uncomfortably formal. “I apologize for just reaching out like this but I know she’s visiting her mother right now so her phone is off and we just got a call from the school…”

“Wait, what?” Joel cut her off. Your mother? That couldn’t be right.

“Yes,” she said, sounding impatient. “The school, apparently Ellie was in a fight and she needs to be picked up, can you please tell her and take care of things?”

“She OK?” Joel asked, trying not to overthink the sharp little stab of fear in his chest at the thought of Ellie in a fight. He tried not to think about getting his hands on whatever little teenaged prick decided to fight her, either.

“She’s fine,” Esmo said. “At least, that’s what the school said. She just needs to be picked up. Can you go get her?”

“Yeah,” he said after a second. “Course, I got it.”

“Thank you,” she said, relieved. “I appreciate it.”

Joel’s jaw tightened as he dropped that old magazine on the coffee table before stalking off in the direction he’d watched you go before.

It didn’t take him long to find you, tucked away in a small and private visitation room, deck of cards sitting on the table between you and a woman who looked a lot like you, some of the cards fanned out in your hand.

“Do you have any fives?” The woman - your mother - asked.

“You asked me that before,” you said, an oddly tense but gentle edge to your voice. “Why don’t you ask about another one?”

“Oh,” she frowned at her hand. “How about… tens?”

“Damn,” you said, handing her a card. She smiled.

“You shouldn’t curse, you know,” she said. “It makes you sound dumb.”

“I’ve heard that,” you said, arranging the cards in your hand. “Any eights?”

She paused for a moment, examining her cards.

“What was that again?” She said after a moment.

“Eights,” you repeated.

“Go fish,” she said and you got a card from the top of the pile. “You know, you remind me of my daughter…”

“Do I?” You said, your tone oddly even.

“She’s an actress,” she nodded. “She’s only a teenager though, a lot younger than you. She’s pretty like you, though.”

“An actress, hm?” You said. “Does she like it?”

“I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. “But she’s good at it. Not sure she can handle the hard parts, though.”

“You’re probably right,” you said. “She can’t.”

“Hello,” your mother said, looking up at Joel and lowering her cards. “Are you here to play, too?”

You noticed him then, your back going stiff, shifting uncomfortably in your chair when you did.

“Fraid not,” Joel said. “Just need to talk to… my friend here.”

You looked back at him then, frowning but he just jerked his head toward the door. You, at least, didn’t question it, just setting the cards face down on the table and joining him.

“Can I help you?” You asked, brows raised expectantly.

“Now, I already asked and she’s fine,” he said, which made your eyes go wide but he held up a hand. “Ellie got in a fight at school, we gotta go pick her up…”

“Shit,” you swore, fishing your phone from some hidden pocket in your leggings at the small of your back and turning it on. It took a moment but you groaned. “Fuck, I have six missed calls…”

You stashed the phone again and went back to the table, your mother frowning at you as you gathered up the cards.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am, but I have to go,” you said. “They’ll have someone come bring you back in a minute.”

“It’s very rude to just take off on someone, you know,” she said sternly.

“Been told that, too,” you said. “You have a good day.”

She grunted, crossing her arms and turning away from you. You didn’t take the bait, just going for the door and quickly leading the way back to the car. But, for a change, you went for the passenger side.

“What?” You said. “You do know the way to the school, don’t you?”

“I know it,” he muttered, getting behind the wheel.

“Good,” you said, buckling in. “Then drive.”

You checked your phone, shaking your head, before just staring out the window.

“So,” Joel said eventually. “That’s your mom.”

“In the most technical sense,” you said, not looking at him. He nodded slowly anyway. “I don’t really think of her that way.”

“Why’s she in there?” Joel asked.

“Why do you care?” You said, incredulous, finally looking at him. He glanced at you and then shrugged and you sighed, the sound heavy. “Early onset Alzheimers. She’s 67 now, it started about five years back. I try to see her once a month or so.”

“Don’t you got the money to get her a nurse or some shit so she could stay with you?” He frowned.

“It’s really not any of your fucking business, is it?” you snapped before sighing, pinching the bridge of your nose and wincing as Joel pulled into the parking lot of the school. “Please don’t mention of this to Ellie. She doesn’t know anything about my mother and I’d like it to stay that way.”

You didn’t give him a chance to say anything else, all but leaping out of the car the second he put it into park and going quickly for the front door of the school. Joel had to run to catch up with you, barely catching you as the two of you were buzzed into the building where the headmistress met you.

She greeted you the same way Esmo did and Joel could tell, now that he knew you didn’t like it, that it put you on edge. It made him stiffen at your back, narrowing his eyes at the prim and proper woman in front of him, assessing her differently now than the last time you’d met. She was a threat now, she’d upset you, she’d opposed Ellie and he was oddly comforted that he knew he could easily overpower her if he needed to.

He frowned ever so slightly.

Why would he need to? She was a fucking teacher. And why should he care so much that she pissed you off?

“Ms. Stark,” you said, giving her a firm nod. “Where’s Ellie?”

“In my office,” she said. “Please, follow me.”

She led the way, setting a brisk pace, her back ramrod straight, but you kept your head high as you kept pace alongside her.

“What happened?” You asked. “This is very out of character for Ellie.”

“I’m not so sure it is,” the headmistress said and Joel could have sworn he saw the hint of a self-righteous smile on her lips and he clenched his jaw. “She’s… aggressive…”

“She’s strong,” you said sharply. “But she wouldn’t pick a fight without a reason.”

“Well, she has yet to tell us a reason,” she said, smug. “Maybe you can find one. This behavior may have been accepted at other institutions but we hold our students to a higher standard here…”

“I’ll talk to her,” you said. “I’m sure we can figure this out.”

Joel was half expecting you to make him wait outside the office like you had at the nursing home but you didn’t and he followed you, the principal’s office looking disturbingly more like a luxury hotel than a school.

Ellie was sitting on one end of a small row of chairs in the office waiting room, her arms crossed and her jaw set tight. A boy - about her age and far larger than her - sat at the other end, an ice pack clutched to his lower lip and blood dripping from his nose.

“Ellie,” you said, all but running for her, kneeling in front of her and brushing her hair back from her face. “Are you OK?”

She jerked away from you.

“Fine,” she muttered. “I just want to go home.”

“OK,” you nodded slowly. “Can you tell me what happened?”

She just looked to the side, tightening her arms around herself. You stood and sighed, still watching her but Joel looked to the boy sitting at the other end of the row. He was determinedly staring straight ahead but his eyes kept darting over to you, a deep blush rising in his cheeks. Joel’s eyes narrowed.

“We can’t just permit students to attack other students,” the headmistress said. “Especially not unprovoked…”

“It wasn’t unprovoked!” Ellie snapped, her head whipping around to look at the boy. “He knows what he did.”

“Miss Williams,” the headmistress said sharply. “You nearly broke a fellow student’s nose.”

“Well, he’s a pussy!” Ellie yelled. “Not my fault he got his ass handed to him by a girl!”

“Ellie!” You scolded.

“What! It’s true,” she said, calming. “Lucky I didn’t do more…”

The headmistress looked at you, a small, self-satisfied smile on her face.

“Because this is her first offense, she’s suspended for a week,” she said. “But if it happens again, we will have to expel her.”

“We’ll take care of it,” you said before turning your attention back to Ellie. “C’mon, troublemaker, let’s go.”

She shoved herself out of the chair and grabbed her backpack sharply from the floor. The boy at the other end of the chairs watched her and she lunged in his direction before pulling back, making him jump.

“Yeah, better be fuckin’ scared,” she snapped.

“Alright,” you said sharply, putting your hands on her shoulders and steering her out of the room. “That’s enough, let’s go.”

Joel gave the kid a final look, one that was apparently enough to make him stare straight ahead again, shrinking in his seat as he did. Satisfied, Joel followed you and Ellie to the car, the girl throwing her backpack in with a little too much force.

Mercifully, you just went for the passenger seat, saving Joel the fight about driving. You immediately turned to face the disgruntled teenager behind you.

“Want to tell me what the fuck that was?” You asked.

“That was a fight,” Ellie said, the sass in her voice thick. “One I won, by the way.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you said. “Kid, you can’t just do stuff like that for no reason! What were you thinking?”

“It wasn’t no reason!” She replied.

“OK then what was the reason?” You said. “I’m dying for you to enlighten me because there had better be some kind of reason why you’d go after a classmate like that!”

“Why do I need to tell you the fucking reason?” She demanded. “You don’t need to know the reason, you just need to trust me when I say I had one!”

“I do trust you!” You said. “But that school doesn’t! They don’t know you yet! They don’t know how smart and kind and funny you are, all they know is that you refused to follow the dress code on day one and now that you beat people up when you don’t get your way!”

“I didn’t hit him because I didn’t get my way!” She yelled. “I did it because…”

Her voice trailed off, seeming to realize what she was about to say just as she said it. You gave her a minute to say it, anyway, but she didn’t.

“Tell me a reason, Ellie,” you said gently. “Because there has to be a reason. God, I sure hope there is because I’d rather not have to donate a library to some stuffy school every time you decide to throw a tantrum…”

“Oh, yeah, because you’ll just use your fucking money to fix everything,” Ellie snapped. “But you didn’t use it to save my mom! No, you just let her die.”

Joel caught a glimpse of your face at that, looking less like you’d been yelled at by a teenager and more like someone had slapped you.

“I tried, honey,” you said gently. “I tried so hard to save your mom, I helped get her the best doctors, I helped get her into the best facilities but sometimes it’s just beyond what we can do as people.”

“Whatever,” Ellie snapped as Joel pulled into the driveway. She jumped out of the car, slamming the door behind her and you followed after her.

“Is that what this is about?” You asked. “Is it because you miss your mom? Because I get that, I miss her too, so much that sometimes I want to burn something down, but…”

“But she was your friend!” She rounded on you. “And she was my fucking mom, stop acting like you know how I feel because you don’t know how I fucking feel!”

“Ellie,” you said gently. “I know it’s hard, and…”

“No, you don’t know!” She snapped. “Stop it! Just leave me alone!”

She started stomping off to her room but you stayed close behind.

“We can talk about…”

“I don’t want to talk to you!” She yelled. “I don’t want to look at you or talk to you or do anything with you! I wish it was you who died instead of her!”

You froze where you stood and Ellie took advantage of your stillness to stomp off back to her bedroom, the door slamming in her corner of the house.

“Yeah, me too,” you said, so quietly that Joel doubted that you knew he could hear you.

He was quiet for a moment, staring where Ellie had gone, hoping she’d come back for both your sakes. But she didn’t.

“Teenagers are hard,” Joel said eventually. “Sure she didn’t mean that…”

“Oh please, I know you’re just loving this,” you said harshly. “I don’t need your fake pity, Joel. I have interviews, stay out of my office.”

You left without another word, the click of your door much quieter than Ellie’s had been.

“That went well,” Esmo sighed, catching Joel off guard.

“Sure it’ll pass,” Joel said gruffly. He wasn’t sure why his chest got tight as he looked toward your office. He didn’t care about you beyond needing to keep you alive and he only needed do that because of everything he owed his brother. Besides, you were just some spoiled, pampered celebrity. Surely you could use something pushing back on you for a change.

“Dinner tonight is roast chicken,” Esmo said, heading toward the kitchen.

Joel frowned.

“Why are…”

“I know why you don’t usually eat with us, Mr. Miller,” she said, looking back over her shoulder at him, her eyes narrowed. “She won’t be joining us, her calendar is full until after 10. Don’t pretend that you enjoy those freezer burnt blocks of garbage you call food more than a home cooked meal, I don’t like liars.”

She disappeared to the kitchen, the rattle of pots and pans following not long after and Joel sighed, settling in on the couch to kill time instead of disappearing to his room on the other side of the house.

But, to his surprise, Ellie emerged just an hour later, in jeans a t-shirt instead of her uniform now, creeping into the living room like she was expecting someone to jump out at her.

“She ain’t here,” Joel said, making her jump. “Sorry, kiddo, wasn’t tryin’ to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” she sighed, coming in and flopping on the loveseat. “Where is she?”

“Doin’ interviews in her office, I guess,” Joel said. She nodded slowly, staring determinedly at the coffee table.

The two of them sat quietly for a moment before this strange tug at the center of him to take care of her - something that was so foreign now but still so familiar - made him clear his throat and break the silence.

“Want… want to talk about anything?” He asked.

“Like?” She asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

“Like why you decided to beat up some boy at school,” he shrugged. “Or why you decided to say something that mean to one of the only people who really cares about you. Because that didn’t seem much like you.”

She scoffed.

“What do you know?”

He shrugged.

“Enough to know that you act tough but that you ain’t an asshole.”

“Ain’t isn’t a word,” she said.

Joel just shrugged again, going back to his phone.

Eventually, Ellie sighed heavily.

“That fucking boy,” she spat the word as though it were curse word, not the f-bomb she’d dropped a second earlier. “Figured out who she was. Saw her dropping me off at school earlier this week and started talking about shit like ‘your mom is so hot, why aren’t you’ and when that didn’t really bother me started saying shit like ‘I’ve seen your mom’s tits’ and called her a whore and I just… he fucking deserved it, OK? And I’m not about to apologize to that fucker just because the fucking school….”

“Alright,” Joel said gently, cutting her off. “I agree. He’s a jackass. You probably did the right thing.”

She looked surprised for a moment but it passed quickly.

“That’s why I couldn’t tell her what happened,” Ellie said. “Because do you know how fucking creepy it is, knowing that every guy in your stupid school has probably jerked it to your aunt? It’s fucking gross. I don’t want to talk about that shit with her.”

Joel nodded slowly.

“So, what, you decided to take it out on your aunt when you got home?” He asked.

“No,” she said, defensive. “I just… I know she loves my mom… Loved my mom… So why didn’t she… I don’t know, just… why didn’t she fix it? She has all this fucking money and knows all these fucking people, why didn’t she fix it? She can do everything else, why couldn’t she do that one thing?”

“You really think she didn’t try?” Joel asked gently. “Look, I don’t really know her but I can tell she loves you something fierce and I’m guessin’ that’s because she loved your mama something fierce, too. Just… sometimes, there’s shit that money can’t fix.” Without meaning to, he remembered holding his daughter as she bled out in his arms. He remembered begging whatever god might be listening to do anything to fix it. That he’d give anything, do anything, to fix it. It hadn’t made a damn difference. “Trust me. Sometimes power and money just don’t mean shit.”

She shrugged and picked at some unseen thing on the couch.

“Not my business,” Joel shrugged. “Just seems like you’re making her miserable because someone else is bein’ an asshole.”

“Think she’s mad at me?” Ellie asked quietly, looking over at him, her dark eyes soft.

“If she is, she’s not actually mad,” he said. “Just hurt. You said some shitty stuff, kid.”

“Yeah, I know,” she sighed, looking toward the hall that led to your office. “I fucked up.”

Joel shrugged again.

“Everyone does.”

She looked at him, her eyes narrowed.

“What are you doing out here, anyway?” She asked. “Don’t you usually hide in your room when you’re not following us around?”

He didn’t want to admit to hiding from the visions of his daughter that so often plagued him on his birthday, so he just shrugged instead.

“Well, I got this new video game while you were off,” she said. “Want to kill some zombies and shit with me?”

“Don’t you got homework or something?” He asked, brows raised.

“I’m suspended, remember?” She said.

“You really think either of them are gonna let that stand?” Joel asked. “Between your aunt and Esmo, you’re gonna be back in that school before you know it.”

She snorted.

“Probably right,” she said. “Still. Wanna play?”

He examined her for a moment, the hopeful look in her eyes as she watched him in return.

It had been so long since anyone had wanted something like this with him, some kind of connection, some kind of approval, some kind of emotional investment. It made his chest get tight and his first instinct was to tell her no, to stalk off to his bedroom and close the door and keep himself far away from anything like that… but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not when she so clearly needed it.

“Yeah, alright,” he said. “Gotta get all that shit set up, though, don’t exactly play a bunch of video games…”

She scoffed.

“I’m sure you don’t, old man.”

Ellie gave him a controller and, as the two of them ran through some virtual desert to collect supplies and shoot zombies, he had the fleeting thought that making her smile made this the best birthday he’d had in more than five years.

***

“Thank you for having me!” You smiled brightly, hoping it still reached your eyes after faking your way through this for hours. Fuck, your Oscar should be for this shit, not your film roles. “It’s been so fun. Hope to see you at the movies!”

“See you there!” The spunky entertainment reporter on the other end of the connection said before the stream cut off. You let the smile slip the moment you knew no one but Quinn was left on the screen, grabbing your water bottle from just out of sight and chugging half of it.

“You did great,” she said, looking at notes on her end. “Hit all the big talking points, great lead in for the main junket kicking off soon.”

“Can’t wait,” you said wryly. Quinn gave you a look and you just shrugged. “What? I don’t get paid to act like I enjoy this shit with you, just with all the reporters.”

“Well, it looks like you won’t be flying solo on at least the LA portion of this junket,” she said and you frowned. Quinn answered the question before you had a chance to ask it. “Looks like Chris Reese will be with you…”

You groaned.

“Seriously?” You asked. “I have to be in LA and I have to deal with that jackass?”

“Have worse chemistry with him and then you won’t have to do shit like press with him,” she said. You glared at her. “What? I get paid to spin shit for the reporters, not for you.”

“Ha ha,” you said and she smirked.

“It’s not so bad,” she said. “Just two days of interviews. And they want you to do a few of TikTok trends for promos…” you groaned again. “Going to pretend like I didn’t hear that and just say that you’re looking forward to reconnecting with your costar.”

“Oh yeah, can’t wait,” you rolled your eyes.

“Also,” Quinn said, steadfastly ignoring you. “I just emailed you part of the script for Savage Starlight, they want you to do some chemistry reads while you’re out that way. They think they have a casting choice for the young version of yourself and you’ll have one dream sequence scene with her that’s going to be pretty important to the story, I guess… fuck if I know. They want to make sure the two of you fit well. They’re also looking at a few guys for your love interest… couple unknowns, Ryan Smythe and Chris Pine are all in the mix.”

You nodded slowly.

“Ryan’s not bad,” you said. “I haven’t worked with him but we’ve met a few times and I like his work. Surprised he’s drawn to a project like this…”

“I’m surprised you’re drawn to a project like this,” Quinn said.

You shot her a glare.

“…But I wouldn’t mind working with him,” you continued like she hadn’t spoken at all. “Pine is a shock, I think he’d have gotten enough of playing second fiddle to a woman superhero after Wonder Woman.”

Quinn shrugged.

“Maybe he’s just in his big time feminist era, not arguing with that. Plus, he’s good.”

“Oh, he’s great,” you said. “The best of the Chrises. Unlike Reese…”

“Oh, suck it up,” she rolled her eyes. “He’s not that bad.”

“He’s obnoxious,” you said. “You don’t have to deal with him like I do.”

“No, but I have to deal with his manager,” she replied. “I’ll trade you. At least Reese is nice to look at.”

“Yeah, he knows it, too,” you said.

“When you’re out here, we’ll have to have to have lunch,” she said “You’re my favorite client, I miss you.”

“You say that to all your clients.”

“Yes, but I lie when I say it to the rest them,” she smiled a little. “OK I’m going to let you go get some sleep. I’ll send you an itinerary for your trip out here and I’ll share it with the security outfit, too. Speaking of which, tell that bodyguard of yours happy birthday.”

You frowned.

“It’s his birthday?” You asked. “Wait, how’d you know that?”

“Come on,” she scoffed. “You know I ran a full investigation on the man I knew would be protecting you. I’m not stupid. Anyway, tell him happy birthday for me and take care of yourself, OK?”

“Will do. And you, too,” you said, hanging up and letting your forehead droop to your desk with a groan.

You were exhausted. Even before the Ellie shit you’d been exhausted and all you’d wanted to do was curl up in bed and sleep all day.

Of course, you didn’t get to do that. Instead, you listened to the most important person in your life tell you that she wished you were dead before you had to go give the same goddamn interview to a dozen different broadcast outlets.

You’d closed yourself in your office and let yourself cry for a while before you forced yourself to stop long enough to do your hair and makeup and make sure you looked at least somewhat presentable before the first interview. And then you faked a smile for hours, talking about the last movie you made before your best friend died, trying not to think about leaving set every day to go see Anna in hospice, always afraid that it would be the last time you’d get to see her.

Esmo had sent you texts while you were stuck in interview hell, telling you when Ellie had eaten, done her homework and gone to bed. She’d also reached out to the school to discuss bringing her back sooner and said she would tell you what she’d gotten out of them the next day.

You weren’t sure what you’d done to deserve her but, in that moment, you felt like you owed her your life. Because someone needed to look out for Ellie, even when she wouldn’t let you do it yourself.

At least, now that it was late, the main part of the house should be empty. Esmo had gone home, Ellie was asleep, Joel liked to avoid every part of the house where he might run into people unless he absolutely had to be there. The last thing you felt like doing was getting into it with your niece or faking a smile for Esmo or putting up with Joel’s shit.

Your bodyguard exhausted you. He’d seemed to make it his own, personal mission to get under your skin. Sure, maybe you hadn’t given him the warmest welcome - you still weren’t thrilled about having to have a bodyguard in the first place - but that hardly seemed to warrant the degree to which he’d been poking and prodding at you in the two weeks he’d been working for you.

Joel had figured out quickly that he had a lot of power over you, somehow keenly aware that you weren’t about to complain to his boss about him or try to get him kicked off the job. What you didn’t get was why he seemed to be so fucking miserable to be assigned to you to begin with.

It’s not like he’d never been a bodyguard before, it’s not like this was new fucking territory for him. He just seemed to hate you personally.

You’d tried to change that for the first week or so. Yes, you’d gotten off on the wrong foot and you could take the blame for that. You were willing to give him some time to get it out of his system. You tried to reach out, to see what food he liked so you could update the dinner menus to his liking or to buy him coffee when you insisted on stopping to get one - much to his chagrin. You tried to even go along with some of his demands so his job was a little easier - things that wouldn’t have you losing as much of your autonomy, at least - but he didn’t seem to appreciate any of it. And then Seth, the other guard, was with you and you realized just how much Joel must absolutely loathe you.

Seth was much easier going. He let you drive without argument. He had dinner with you, Ellie and Esmo every night. He smiled and laughed and mentioned that he was surprised you picked Siren of the name options for you. You’d managed to hide your surprise at that, not wanting to give away just how much his coworker seemed to enjoy humiliating you.

Of course Joel had to come back on what had quickly devolved into the worst day you’d had since Anna died. Of course he’d seen just what Ellie said, of course he had some new way to make you feel like shit. Happy fucking birthday to him.

The pinch of tears had returned to the back of your throat but you swallowed them. You needed to eat something. You needed to go take off all this fucking makeup. You needed to actually sleep in your own damn bed because sleeping anywhere else would be strange and you couldn’t give Joel more ammunition to use against you or give Ellie any reason to feel worse.

So you forced yourself to go to the kitchen to get the plate Esmo had made for you out of the fridge, your feet heavy, the house dark. The light was on in the pool, the reflection from the water casting lines over the ceiling of your living room and you considered, for a moment, just how easy it’d be to go outside, jump into the water and let it swallow you. But you couldn’t do that. Ellie needed you, whether she liked it or not, and there was a whole staff of people who relied on you for their livelihood. Giving up wasn’t an option. Not for you. So you kept going, like you always did.

The kitchen was dark, too, but the smell of coffee was fresh and strong as you opened the fridge, the light oddly bright compared to the darkness of your house. You found the plate Esmo had left you, a chicken thigh and roasted broccoli piled high. You pulled the plastic wrap back, bumping the fridge closed with your hip as you did.

“Should pay more attention.”

You yelped, jumping and looking around before you realized that, at the end of your breakfast bar, was the hulking figure of your bodyguard, sitting in the dark.

“Jesus Christ,” you said, heart pounding. You set the plate on the counter and stalked to turn on the lights before rounding on him. “What the fuck are you doing, sitting here in the dark? Just lurking to try to fuck with me in some new way or what?”

“No,” he said and there was something so honest in his voice that you couldn’t help but believe him. “Didn’t feel like sleepin’, so…”

He shrugged and you just nodded, going to put your dinner in the microwave.

“Well, you can have the kitchen to yourself again in a minute,” you said, leaning against the counter and facing Joel, your arms crossed over your stomach.

The frustrating thing was, if he wasn’t such an asshole, Joel would be an attractive man. He was handsome, unquestionably so, in a way that would be sculpted out of marble in a bygone time. He was handsome and tall and broad and there was something about his presence - no matter how antagonistic he seemed to get - that made you feel safe. It was something that you thought went past the fact that he was paid to protect you, something in you that said that, while he was here with you alone, while he could easily overpower you, you didn’t need to be afraid of him. He was safe.

Of course, maybe it was better if he was a dick. If he was kinder, you’d probably end up half in love with him, a recipe for disaster since he was your bodyguard.

“S’your house,” Joel shrugged. “I can go if you want space.”

“I don’t mind,” you said.

He just nodded, twisting his coffee mug in his hands.

“You alright?” He asked after a moment of quiet with nothing but the hum of the microwave between you. You raised your brows at him. “Just… you know… whole Ellie thing.”

You watched him for a moment, head cocked. Was he asking because he actually cared? Was he asking to try to find some new way to make you miserable? You weren’t sure.

“She’s a good kid,” he said when you’d been quiet a bit too long. “She didn’t… I know she didn’t mean what she said, she’s just bein’ a teenager, and…”

“How do you know?”

He frowned.

“Know what?”

“That she didn’t mean it,” you said. “How do you know?”

The microwave beeped and you got out your food. Joel, much to your surprise, pulled out the chair next to his at the breakfast bar before gripping his mug again, his fingers tight and strained against the ceramic. You took the seat, grabbing a fork and knife from the silverware drawer on the way.

“I talked to her a bit,” he said once you settled in next to him. He wasn’t looking at you, staring straight ahead instead. “She was… she was upset about other shit and took it out on you. Don’t make it right but… at least explains it.”

“What was she upset about?” You asked, cutting into the chicken and taking a bite. Even reheated it was delicious. God bless Esmo. “Was it the fight at school? Because she was in a mood this morning, too, and…”

“Yeah, think that fight’s been simmerin’ for a few days,” Joel said, taking a sip of coffee before glancing your way quickly.

“What was it?” You frowned. “Did she tell you? If it was a good reason, then…”

“She told me,” he cut you off, actually looking at you now. “Look… I’ll tell you, but I think it’s best if you keep it to yourself. I get why she’s pissed.”

You frowned.

“OK…”

“That fuckin’ kid she beat up,” he said, like he was choosing his words carefully. “Well… guess he recognized you…”

“Shit,” you sighed, dropping your fork to your plate to press the palm of your hand to your eye. Of course you were the root of this problem, too.

“Sounds like he thought you’re her mom,” he said. “Started askin’ her why she’s not as good looking as you and, when that didn’t get enough of a rise out of ‘er, started saying… other shit.”

You gave him a second to continue on his own but he didn’t.

“Other shit like what?” You asked. He flinched and looked down at his coffee cup. “Other shit like what, Joel.”

He sighed.

“Other shit like he’d seen your… chest,” he said, his cheeks getting red. “And he called you… well, somethin’ you don’t call a lady.”

“Jesus,” you slumped down in your seat. “Well, at least that explains why she was begging me to not be the one to drive her to school in the mornings anymore…”

“Sorry,” Joel said, his voice rough.

“I don’t blame her for taking the bait,” you sighed. “Lord knows I would have in her shoes… God, it must be embarrassing for her…”

“Like I said, she’s a good kid,” he said. “Don’t take one blow up too personally. Teenagers are… well, they’re teenagers.”

You watched him for a moment.

“Why do you know this stuff?”

His jaw tightened for a moment.

“Just do,” he said.

Something told you that wasn’t all there was to it but you didn’t pry. Instead, you ate your dinner in silence next to him, trying to think of ways to talk to the school to get Ellie back in without bringing up what she’d told Joel. You liked that she had an adult she apparently felt like she could talk to. She needed that, desperately, in her life. You’d prefer it was you - it had been you, once upon a time, back when you weren’t responsible for her - but you’d take what you could get.

“Can I ask what that punching bag out back did to piss you off?” He asked eventually.

You laughed a little.

“Nothing much,” you replied. “Wait… you sighed an NDA for this job, right?”

“Yeah,” he frowned, looking at you again. “Why?”

“Because this isn’t public yet,” you said. “But… Well, I’m trying to prep for a role.”

“A role,” he said. “What role?”

“You ever heard of the comic series Savage Starlight?” You asked. He nodded. “Well… I’m Starlight. Or, I will be. They’re going to officially announce it in a few months, once the rest of the main cast is settled. They’re starting me with a trainer to learn fight choreography in six weeks but I’ve never had a role with fight scenes like this one, I’m trying to make it so I’m not starting from scratch so I don’t look like a total idiot.”

“That don’t…” Joel paused. “Doesn’t seem like your kind of movie.”

“It’s not,” you said. “But Ellie loves the comics. They’re her favorite thing and… well, if I’m her favorite super hero, I can’t be all bad, right? So I just… I want to get it right.”

“Well, you’re doin’ it wrong,” Joel said. You narrowed your eyes, about to argue with him on it, but he cut you off. “Not trying to be mean. Your form was just… I can tell you haven’t really thrown a punch before. Nothin’ wrong with that. Or, well, there isn’t until you need to start fighting. You just need to be careful is all, otherwise you’re just gonna hurt yourself.”

You laughed a little.

“Of course,” you said wryly. “It only makes sense that I’m shit at that, too.”

“Not shit,” he said. You raised your eyebrows. “What? You’re not. Just not trained. I… I can help. If you wanted.”

“Really,” you asked, incredulous. “You’d help me train to fight.”

“Sure,” he shrugged. “Not like I don’t got the time. Besides, figure my job just gets harder if you’re in a damn cast because you busted your wrist throwin’ a bad punch.”

“Fair enough,” you said. “Thank you.”

“Sure,” he said, the two of you falling silent again. You picked at the chicken, not much of an appetite.

“Do you think,” you said, trailing off for a moment before looking at him again. “Do you think you could take Ellie to school when she starts back? I’m going to talk to the school again tomorrow, try to get her back in next week, but I don’t want to cause her more problems and…”

“Sure,” he said. “I… I don’t mind. She’s a good kid.”

“She is,” you agreed.

You finished what you could of your dinner and slid off the seat before cleaning up your dish, Joel frowning and watching as you did.

“What?” You asked. “You’re looking at me like I’m… I dunno, an alien or something.”

“Don’t you have people who do shit like clean up after you?” He asked. “Ain’t that part of Esmo’s job?”

“I mean, yeah,” you shrugged. “But I’m not about to leave my dirty dishes sitting out overnight for her to deal with when she gets here in the morning. I’m not an asshole.”

He seemed to process that as you loaded the dishwasher and chugged a final glass of water before putting the glass in the dishwasher, too.

“Well, I’m going to bed,” you said. “Been a hell of a day. Want me to turn the light off so you can sit in the dark with your coffee again?”

Joel just shrugged.

“Don’t really matter,” he said. “Good night.”

“Night,” you said, turning to go before you remembered what Quinn had told you. “Hey, actually, why didn’t you mention that today was your birthday?”

He flinched, the movement so fleeting you almost thought you imagined it, and you had the strangest desire to comfort him somehow. You just didn’t know why.

“Don’t like my birthday,” he said after a moment. “Not a lot of reasons to celebrate so I just don’t. Besides, don’t really like being the center of attention.”

You laughed a little at that.

“Yeah, I know the feeling. But… well, happy birthday, anyway. Thanks for looking after Ellie.”

He nodded slowly.

“Thanks,” he said. “It… it was nice.”

You wanted to say something else but you couldn’t think of what so instead, you turned out the light and left him there, drinking coffee from your favorite mug alone in the dark.

Next Chapter

A/N: So sorry for the eternity between chapters. I've just not been able to keep up with things lately. I hope you enjoyed it, anyway.

I'm really enjoying their dynamic! Some active antagonism based in misunderstanding of motives, some mutual attraction, a lot of similar life experiences that they don't fully grasp yet. I just really love these two and I'm so excited to share where they're headed! Thanks for being here.

Love you!

Taglist: @christinamadsen @eff4freddie @brittmb115 @copperhalfcent @r3dheadedwitch @pedropascalsbbg @lovelyjess69 @yopossum @moel-jiller @picketniffler @lilyevanstan1325 @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @wintersquirrel

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #The Savage and the Sanctuary

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unamused-boss · 1 year ago

Text

California Dreaming pt3

Billy Hargrove x Reader

Last part! Warning: Kinda short, but I still hope you love it!

Summary: Max and Billy could only agree on one thing in common.... and that was you. You were their neighbor when the lived in California and Billy had the biggest crush on you. Plus it helped that you babysat, more like hangout with, Max. You were his California dream. And sometimes dreams come true.

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

You couldn't stand the time you had away from Billy. Your best friend and boyfriend were gone all in one on the same day. You've been writing to Billy which is a plus. Turns out he joined the basketball team. He's been to every party thrown in town, but he says they're all a bust. Met a guy named Munson that gets him weed, but Billy quotes "It's nothing like the shit in Cali...". You can't help but laugh at his sarcastic tones through the letters.

You know he misses it here. He tells you in every letter the love that he holds for you, that nothing will change. He admitted to going on some dates with girl to get you off his mind. He felt guilty, he wanted your forgiveness even though you told him to try an move on to at least have fun. Billy said ,once again, in his letter that he wants no one else but you. Your eyes were something he missed most of all. He said that you had a light in them that he felt only he saw. You always giggled when it came to the gushy stuff in his letters. Billy was a flirt with girls but he was a romantic with you.

Since graduating high school early you've had a lot of time on your hands. You were still gonna walk at graduation, you just weren't going to do anything else. Cause by god you are getting that dumb piece of paper in front of everyone. It was a couple of days before the week up spring break but for you it was a regular working Wednesday. You currently work at some clothing store in the mall and oh so excitedly deal with mother's trying to get some sort of deal out of you.

The time was 5:00pm you are now pulling into your driveway of your house for the night. Happy that your got off early you notice your parents aren't home yet. You make your way down to the mailbox to check for anything. Which you find a bunch of letters piled onto one another. You begin to sift through it.

"Bill, Bill, Coupon, post card from Aunt Shelly, Bill...y." You stop at, what you thought was another bill but was actually, a letter from Billy. You rush up to your front door to be able to read the letter. Throwing everything onto the kitchen table an make your way to your room. You bounce on your bed at tear open the letter...

Hello Y/N, I hope you are happy with what you're doing. I just read your letter. God I wish I could graduate early to get this shit hole. Anyways, Max is doing good. She still with those little balls of snot for friends. Hopefully you wrote her, so she can stop asking me to check the mail for your letters. I miss you very much. Spring break is about to start, since the public pool opened I got a job there. Hopefully I can get enough money to be able to come an see you and to stay with you. You probably already know me, I'm not really good at this writing shit. But if it's for you, I'll do it. I love you, -Billy

You smiled down at the words on the paper.

"I love you too." You said down to the paper. That feeling came back again. The feeling of wanting to see him. You can't help it, you miss him so much. You go over to your landline in the kitchen to lunch in a number you have memorized by heart now.

"Santa Monica airport, what can I help you with today?" The droned out employee said.

"Hey, I wanna know if you have any direct flights to Hawkins Indiana?"

"Hold on, let me check..." You hear a faint typing for a few seconds.

"Anything?" You question.

"None to Hawkins but we have one to Indianapolis flying out this Friday at 5:00am." They said.

"Perfect!" You shouted. "How much?"

"That will be a hundred an thirty dollars..."

"I've got that!" You race around to your purse to fish out your debit card to pay for the ticket. You give them the info to send the ticket via email for you to print out. It would be thirty more dollar but you didn't care.

"Alright, thank you choosing Santa Monica airlines tod-." You didn't even let them finish. You hung up the phone right away to go pack an call off work for the next week or so. You couldn't stop giggling the whole time. Seeing Billy and Max is going to be the best thing to happen to you in the past few months. Then you hear your front door open and shut. Then you realized something...

"Hey mom, I gotta tell you something!" You shouted running out of your room.

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

You were honestly shitting your pants the whole way to Hawkins from Santa Monica. You currently stand outside of Hawkins High School waiting for Billy. You slept during your flight over at 5 am but once you were on the ground you couldn't hold still. Your stuff is at the motel just outside of town for the next week.

You passionately waited for Billy to walk out of the school. You could see his car from a mile away. Plus with is reputation it wasn't hard to find out about him. You turned your wrist to look at your watch, 3:15 it read. the bell rang and school was out for spring break. Students passed by you, giving you weird looks.

"Who is that?" "Does Billy know them?" "Probably a desperate Ex." Were some of the things that were thrown around you. As if you couldn't hear the. 'Geez do these people know how to shut up...'

"Billy. Who's that?" An oddly pitchy voice said breaking you out of your thoughts.

Billy ripped his head around to you. You being the last person he would see by his car. The girl he, once had his arm around, was with was now forgotten. Billy thought he was gonna vomit at the sight of you.

"Shit.." You mutter.

"Holy fuck..." He said.

"Billy who is this?" The girl said once again getting annoyed. Billy turned back to her.

"Why are you still here?" He questioned. The girl now looked perplexed. She thought Billy was gonna take her out but now he wants nothing to do with her. Before she could say anything Billy spoke, "Go the hell away. Ya stupid cow..." He muttered the last part.

Billy walked up to you, star struck. He now had you trapped between him and the car with his hands on your hips. Holding you gently. You were smiling up at him.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"I wanted to see you." you said. "Is that so bad?" You teased him. When you both could call one another you would constantly tease him over the phone.

"No!" He answered quickly. "It's actually great, cause I was loosing my damn mind being away from you." You giggled at him. He his lips down to your temple, kissing you gently. To the students around you it was shocking to see Billy Hargrove be gentle with anybody. But to you this was your Billy.

"Y/N!!" A familiar voice shouted out to you. You turned to her direction to see Max running full speed to you. You part from Billy momentarily to hug Max.

"Hey MadMax!" You exclaimed. Even though Billy thought Max was a pain in the ass most of the time; he loved seeing you two together. He was happy that she got to see you.

"How long are you here for?" She questioned.

"I'm here for all of spring break." You smiled. They both looked at you dumb founded. You were gonna be with them for a week.

"Yes!" Billy said excitedly, pulling you into a hug. You laughed as he squeezed you.

"How about we go on a date tonight?" You asked him.

"Hell yeah!" He shouted. Crashing his lips onto yours. Desperation and love pouring into the moment. He missed your lips. How soft they were and smooth. He missed you so much.

"ew..." It was faint but you both knew it was from Max.

"Get in the car shit bird." Billy said.

"Hey be nice." You sternly said, mighty sapping his arm. He huffed at you, looking at you with soft eyes. The eye you fell in love with.

"Let's take Max home and we can go on our , much needed, date."

"You took the words right out of my mouth." Billy smiled.And that's how it went for the next week. You spent your time with Billy and Max, well more so Billy. Billy held you so close not wanting to let you go when you both cuddled. You met Max's friends and some more people around Hawkins with your small time there. You had some sleepovers with Max, trying to make up for lost time. Neil wouldn't do anything while you where here in town, so that meant a safe environment for Max and Billy even though it was for a week. You found the town cute, but you prefer Santa Monica.

Most of all, you and Billy got time alone. To be with each other in each others arms. Going on cute dates, walks, drives, everything. You became the envy of the town. The one that swooped Billy Hargrove off hid feet the spring break of 85'. He wouldn't have it any other way though. He would stay in this shithole town if it meant being with you.

When it came time for you to go home, it was full of tears and heart felt kisses. You didn't want to leave them again but you had to.

"Once I graduate I'll be back, I promise." You said.

When it came time for you to go home, it was full of tears and heart felt kisses. You didn't want to leave them again but you had to.

"Once I graduate I'll be back, I promise." You said.

That promise was made two months ago. In those two months you also visited Billy three more times over the summer. In your last visit you brought him back home with you. To California. You got him far away from his pain.

You both have an apartment near the beach, like you both wanted. You stared college; while Billy started work at a car restoration shop. Billy could surf everyday while you laid in the sun. You both loved each other even more with every day that passed.

A California dream come true.

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

I know its a cheesy ending but I hope you like it.

@capitanostella

@maackiimoo

@mystargirl-interlude

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy hargove imagine #dustin henderson #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #stranger things #billy hargrove x fem reader #eddie munson #fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #troupe #childhood best friends to lovers #grumpy x sunshine #netflix stranger things #vecna stranger things

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rwby-encrusted-blog · 11 months ago

Text

Ruby: MMmm-MH! Goooood Morning Yang!

Yang: *Brushing Teeth* M'rn Rbs!

Ruby: You're up bright and early. What's up?

Yang: *Spits in sink* Me and Blakey got a whole day planned-*Gargling & Swishing Mouthwash, Spits* We're gonna go for a walk in the park to get some pictures taken and do a little window shopping, then we're meeting up with her parents for lunch!

Ruby: You've got a whole day planned, Huh! Is there something special about to ... day ...

Ruby checks the calender - wednesday, Febuary 14th.

Valentines day

Ruby: Nonono! Not now! I haven't prepared!

Yang: Sorry Rubes! I gotta get dressed, so unless you wanna see me naked again, you should-

Ruby: I'm going, I'm going!

~~~~~

Ruby: Hey Weiss! Blake and Yang are busy-

Weiss: I have Dates planned Ruby! I'm afraid I can't help you.

Ruby: With- I'm sorry did you say 'Dates' as in Dates Plural?

Weiss: Yes I did.

Ruby: Isn't that kind of-

Penny: Salutations Ruby! I am here to see My Valentines for the day!

Ruby: Penny? You're going out with Weiss?

Jaune: I am too! We're going to be switching on and off throughout the day!

Ruby: What.

Penny: Knowing that you identify as 'Asexual' I inquired what romance felt like to Weiss, who was on her way to ask Jaune on a 'date.' Jaune brought up how Polyamorous relationships were uncommon but plausible, so Weiss agreed to spend her time with us both!

Ruby: ... Oh.

Weiss: Yes, and I still need to finish readying up! Please leave so that I may Dress!

~~~~~

Loud Thumping and groaning may be heard behind Ren and Nora's Door, along with slapping sounds.

Ruby: I dunno why I thought they'd be doing anything else.

~~~~~

Oscar: Hey Ruby! What're you up to?

Ruby: Finding you! Everyone else is busy with Valentines, so I figured "hey, Oscar hasn't seemed interested in anyone, and he know what romance is" so I looked for you so we could have a Totally Platonic hangout. Which, for Valentines day would be weird-

Whitley: *Barging in* Hello my Evergreen~ I brought Cinnamon raisin Oatmeal cookies for my most sweet of sweets~

Oscar: Uuuhh ... Sorry Ruby, I'm kinda busy?

Ruby: ￣へ￣

~~~~~

Ruby: *Knocking on Door* HEY UNCLE QROW!

Robyn: *Wrapped in a towel* Sorry kid, He's busy in the Bathroom.

Ruby: ... i though him and Clover-

Clover: I'm here Too!

Qrow: I got a big heart Kid! Now leave and let me bathe with these guys, or I'll tell them about your seventh brithday!

Clover: Now that I wanna hear!

Ruby: You wouldn't!

Robyn: *Holding Qrow's hand* He Would.

Ruby: ... Got it. Have a nice time. Please leave a sock on your handle next time this happens!

~~~~~

Ruby: ...

Emerald: How do they feel now?

Mercury: *Rubbing his legs, crying Slightly* They feel Real. They feel like they're back.

Ruby: Well That's sweet.

Emerald: We're trying. I'd talk more but concentration-

Ruby: And Merc seems like he needs you, have a nice day.

~~~~~

Ruby: Hey Winter-

Winter: ...

Cinder: *On Winter's shoulder* ...

Ruby: ... I'll be going.

~~~~~

Ruby: Hey Miss Schnee-

Willow: *sweaty and Flushed* Hello Dear! I'm afraid I don't have much time-

Kali: Willow~ We have time for one more round before me and Ghira need to see our Kitten~

Ruby: Just go-

Willow: I can take a break if you need-

Ruby: I'll be fine, i get it-

Willow: Seriously, If you need something-

Ruby: Thank you, but I'm good, all good, go have your fun-

~~~~~

TaiYang: Hey! You've reached the Personal Scroll of Taiyang Xiao Long! At the moment I am pounding someone's ass right now, and Can't reach you! PLease leave a message at the Tone!

Ruby: *Hangs up* Safe to assume that's where Raven is.

~~~~~

Ruby: ... Hey? Hey Torchwick!

Roman: *Sitting at a table at a cafe* Little Red, I'm not in the mood for any of our games today.

Ruby: What do you mean?

Roman: Look, Neo's a free spirit, and on today of all days, she's reveling in Warm bodies rather than cold blood, leaving little ol' me out to dry, just cause the way I get down and Dirty is only ever stylish not sexy.

Ruby: ... yeah, I get that. Everyone I can think of is either being horny or romantic. It's annoying.

Roman: Oh-ho-ho! It seems the little nightmare for all the criminals in Vale is and Ace of Spades, huh?

Ruby: Well ... *Unfurling Crescent Rose as she takes a seat* Wrong Farm tool, but yeah, my flags fly white, gray, Green and Purple.

Roman: ... how about truce for today? I get the feeling if we stay out of each other's trouble our friends and family can have a nice day.

Ruby: No assault, theft from Mom and Pop shops, no murders, no trafficking and no destruction of property.

Roman: ... take off destruction of property.

Ruby: Hostile architecture only.

Roman: *Extending his hand* Deal.

Ruby: *shaking his hand* Sweet.

#rwby #ruby rose #roman torchwick #NOT rosewick #platonic rosewick?#bumbleby #whiteknight #frostbyte #frostknyte #rich farmers #renora #true fairgame #jailbyrds #fairgame #cinwin #emercury #tairaven #rwby pheonix #rwby shitpost

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lawnchairthethird · 2 months ago

Text

WIP Wednesday

Here’s a little snippet of Miscalculation.

You can find the prologue here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60451135/chapters/154314217

—

“Is Gohan here yet?” Bulma asked.

“In the atrium,” Vegeta replied.

“I’ll go bring him Bulla’s things. I’ll be ready to go after than,” Bulma said.

“Daddy, please stay here. I don’t want to go to Gohan’s. Aren’t you going to miss me?” Bulla sobbed, burying her face into his neck.

“It’s only a short time, and you’ll have fun with Pan.” She began crying louder, causing Vegeta’s eyes to widen with desperation. “I promise I’ll take you on a big trip when we get back. You’ve been wanting to go to the amusement park, haven’t you?” Vegeta bargained.

Bulla nodded, wiping her nose on Vegeta’s shirt, leaving a wet trail across his chest. He either didn’t notice or didn’t mind.

“We’ll go as soon as we get home, princess. Just the two of us. Let’s go see Uncle Gohan.” Vegeta stood, Bulla still in his arms. He nodded to Trunks and Goten as he left the room.

“I’ll never get used to the way Vegeta spoils Bulla,” Goten chuckled, sitting on the couch. “Hey, did you pack games?” Goten was looking at the elaborate gaming system set up in the living room. Much to Vegeta’s chagrin, a key element of time Goten and Trunks spent together was based around that gaming system.

“Of course, dude. We’re gonna be stuck doing nothing for weeks. I only invited you so I could have someone to play with, anyway” Trunks teased.

“Alright! We are ready to go!” Bulma announced as she returned to the room, a much less enthusiastic Vegeta in tow. His shirt was suspiciously damp.

Bulma led them to the ship she had constructed, which sat in the backyard, ready to launch. She opened the hatch with a remote control, and Goten gasped as he walked inside.

“Wow! Ms. Bulma, this is nothing like the ship my dad or brother talked about.”

“I’ve had quite a while to improve the design,” she laughed. “We’re going on a luxury vacation, not preparing for a battle.”

Vegeta stalked ahead to the cockpit, up a small flight of stairs. Bulma rolled her eyes at him.

#fanfiction #vegebul #vegeta #bulma #dragon ball #truten #trunks #ao3 #goten #dbz

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shoutoutout · 3 months ago

Text

I've started up another Harlivy fic and was digging through my docs and found this old version of the noses & kneecaps section of she breaks (out, down, through). I cut it way down and changed up the setting for the published version but this Harley quote had me giggling so I thought I'd post here for folks!

Harley turns to the chef. “If you fucking spit in this food I will literally gut you right now, you hear me? I’m not letting my bestie eat any of your loogies so tell me if you did because she’ll fucking know, alright? This bitch will taste them and then you’ll be dead and the misses and junior over there are gonna have a sad as shit Christmas this year.”

You can read the rest under the cut

Surprising no one, Ivy’s not that great at the whole “friendship” thing.

For starters, she has no frame of reference by which to judge. Like her namesake, she was a wallflower as a child and when high school rolled around she bloomed into a sarcastic loner with Indigo Girls blasting through her headphones. It left little room for normal girl shit like… well… she would name something if she knew.

But even still, with all her lack of experience, she’s pretty sure that this—Harley’s idea of friendship—is not quite normal.

“I could use some new threads.” Harley calls Ivy out of the blue on a Wednesday evening. “Cops confiscated all the stuff back at my old place… not like I’d wear any of it anymore. God, I was such a tightass wasn’t I, Ives? So how about it? A girl’s day out?”

Ivy doesn’t know what to say, knuckles pale green where they grip the phone. She regrets giving Harley her number. (And by “giving” she means Harley snatching the phone from her pocket and calling herself before Ivy had the chance to stop her.) The thought of strolling through a department store with Harley causes her anxiety to ratchet the way it did when the pretty girls would laugh at her in English class. What would they even talk about for fuck’s sake?

Not much to start, it turns out. Harley’s version of shopping is a lot less mundane and a lot more criminal. They end up taking twelve hostages in Bergsduff’s and leaving with two hundred thousand in designer goods. Muzak plays idly in the background as Harley holds the salesclerk at gunpoint, parading him around the floor while Ivy snatches up some cute summer looks. His nose drips blood from where she pistol-whipped him upon entrance.

“Hey, try those on,” Harley suggests, waving the gun wildly towards a pair of gold-rimmed sunglasses. The hostages in her line of fire duck and scramble when it points in their direction. “Those’ll look real hot on you! Perfect for your face shape.”

Even the sales clerks—with the barrel of Harley’s gun poking between his shoulder blades—can’t help but agree.

Ivy slips them into her pocket.

They go to dinner.

“And it better be fucking vegan, alright?!” Harley screeches through the kitchen door. When she turns back to Ivy, she’s all grins and bubbles. “He said it should be right out!” she relays, skipping back towards the table.

Ivy glances towards the chef’s wife and son where they lay bound and gagged, piled in the living room corner. Harley had arranged a “private meal” by Gotham’s hottest new chef after Ivy had told her the reservations for his restaurant were usually booked a month in advance.

“Are you sure we don’t have to worry about them?” Ivy asks with a skeptical slant towards their hostages?

“Nah,” Harley dismisses. “They’re chill.”

Their captive hosts nod in agreement, wide-eyed and terrified.

They talk about boys.

“So like I was saying,” Harley picks up where she left off, twirling a fork between two fingers. “Joker has some real ripe areas for improvement with the overall rollout of his new brand vision before the Legion of Doom induction, ya know? Just some things I’m helpin’ him out with… order of operations and stuff like that.”

Ivy’s thankful Harley’s doing all the talking. She fills the space with an endless stream of stray observations and chatter.

She gets a dreamy look in her eye, resting her head against her palm. “I mean, he’s a real genius, ya know? It’s pure art what he does.” (Ivy wants to vomit but the food is coming soon.) “And don’t ever tell him I said otherwise”—she sits up, clasping her hands together—“but in general, there’s a lack of foresight to some of his schemes. Like escape plans, for example. Usually he has it all figured out when Batsy arrives—how to get away that is—but not for the whole crew, ya know?”

Ivy narrows, not quite getting at what she’s saying.

Harley shimmies closer in her chair, propping her elbows on the table. “Okay, okay, so like, there’ll be a getaway car, right? But it’s one of those clown cars, like a tiny one. Only this clown car isn’t like a clown car where it can fit all the rest of us; it’ll just fit him.” She pauses to let Ivy consider. “Is that… is that funny? Like ha-ha Joker-level theatrics?”

Ivy’s dumbfounded. “A clown car that’s just a regular tiny car…that only Joker can escape in… and he leaves you all behind to get caught,” she summarizes, doubt dripping from her tongue. “So you’re telling me he just like, takes off in a Smart car?”

“Yes!” Harley nods, excitedly. Her jester’s cap bounces with the motion. “Exactly! Just a Smart car for one. It could use some work, right?”

Ivy doesn’t even know where to begin. Luckily the chef returns, placing two gorgeous plates of food before them. Harley squeals beside her and Ivy snaps to attention, grabbing her fork. It smells fucking heavenly as it comes to her mouth but then Harley’s hand is strong around her wrist, stopping her mid-bite.

He shakes his head and whimpers; Harley seems satisfied. They dig in.

“Oh my god,” Ivy says, flavor dancing across her taste buds. “This is like… orgasmic.”

Harley preens. “Only the best for my friend!”

Friend. It rolls so easily off of Harley’s tongue and Ivy wonders what it is exactly that makes this shit so hard for her. Ivy tries to play along but she’s transported back to English class with Melinda Jenkins snickering every time Ivy raised her hand. “Ha,” she tries. “I owe ya one… pal.”

God, she’s a fucking dork but Harley couldn’t care less. She pounces. “Come to me and J’s Legion of Doom induction then?!” she asks like the question was burning a hole through her tongue. “It’s this weekend. We can drink all of Lex’s fancy-ass champagne. Please? Please? Please, Ivy?”

Harley puppy-dog pouts and Ivy’s stomach flips. Is this normal friend shit? She has no idea.

“I’m sorry but fuck no. No way. Literally anything but that.” Harley will just have to deal; Ivy is decidedly not a good friend.

#harlivy #harley quinn #poison ivy #harlivy fic #harley x ivy #ivy x harley #pamela isley #harleen quinzel #my fic

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peachhcs · 1 month ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/peachhcs/767959888939941888/httpswwwtumblrcompeachhcs767185748593164288

don’t apologize love writing takes time!

i love them and so glad they are communicating well ! i see will just taking more time to reassure making sure she feels a bit better more and maybe he starts calling her first more just to talk more and it helps a lot

maybe because she is hurt and cant play she comes to visit will for while doing some of her school online and it helps them a lot

part 10!! wow i can’t believe this accumulated so many parts. i think i’m gonna split this into two and make samy visiting will in california it’s own post if that’s ok and that’s what y’all want :) so sorry this one is a bit shorter than the others 😖

au masterlist

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

it’d been almost three weeks since samy’s shoulder injury. she was getting a lot better every week and pt was for sure helping, but she still couldn’t play. the doctors hadn’t cleared her yet, so instead, the brunette was stuck doing what little she could at practice like legs or any footwork the coach had the girls work on.

she was bit discouraged because it was the first time since she started soccer that she couldn’t play every single day. it wasn’t something samy was used to, especially being so stationary all the time.

she left practice early wednesday night after not having anything to do. hannah was still in class when samy got into their apartment and that’s when her phone started loudly vibrating in her backpack.

“what the hell,” the soccer player cursed to herself as she dropped her backpack onto the ground and began rummaging through it.

she got her hands on her phone in the second pocket, her slight frustration turning to happiness when she saw will’s name on the screen.

“hi, will,” samy smiled when his face appeared.

“hey, pretty. what are you doing?” the blonde wondered while samy shuffled into her room to talk.

“came back from practice early today. there wasn’t a lot i could do today, so i just left,” the brunette shrugged, falling back onto her bed.

“i’m sorry. how’s the shoulder?”

“it’s fine. i guess i’m just bored and wish i could be playing instead of sitting around all day,” the two shared a frown at her words.

“have you tried doing other things that don’t involve using your arms? walking? running?” will suggested.

“yeah, but it bores me really quickly. i think i need things that are high intensity and quick moving. walking is a bit too slow for me,” samy chuckled to herself.

“figures. you did grow up doing the most contact, quick moving sports.”

“how are you though? how’s everything?” samy changed the subject. she didn’t really like talking about herself that much so she always made it a point to ask will about his day.

“i’m good. practice has been long, but it’s been fine. i miss you,” will hummed and that made the girl smile. even though they did just see each other about two and a half weeks ago, they’ll always miss one another no matter how much time passed since last time.

“i’m glad everything’s going well. coach didn’t kill you too hard for just leaving without a word?”

“no..not really. i do have to, uh, clean the rink after every practice for the next like month, but hey i’ll take it,” the blonde shrugged and it always amazed samy how nonchalant will could be about hockey sometimes because if that were her, she’d probably be freaking out more.

“well, i admire your coolness about it. thanks for coming to visit again, by the way. i liked seeing you and hopefully we can see one another again soon,” the brunette grinned.

“you know, i’ve actually been kind of thinking about that. since you aren’t really playing because of your shoulder..i was wondering if you..wanted to take that opportunity to come to san jose for the first time since you and my mom and sister dropped me off here?” will asked like he was asking his mom to let him spend the night at someone’s house when he was younger.

a flush rose to samy’s cheeks, “like..come to san jose? i-i don’t really have money or anything..”

“i’ll buy your ticket,” the boy immediately cut in.

“i can’t ask you to do that. we’ve talked about this, will,” samy flushed some more.

“i know, i know, but i figured it could take your mind off of things for a weekend? i can show you around san jose some more, we can do whatever you want really. plus, i have the money. i don’t mind. i wanna see you,” will explained his reasoning making samy’s flush turn into a pink blush on her cheeks.

“i wanna see you too. you really don’t mind buying my ticket? i..i don’t wanna make you think i’m like relying on you to do that..”

“baby, i promise you’re not. i want to. let me buy it for you and anything else you want when you come visit?” will cheered and samy rolled her eyes.

“maybe not that far, but i guess a trip to san jose won’t hurt. i have been trying to figure out when i can come visit you,” a smile crept its way onto will’s lips the more samy’s decision leaned to yes.

“exactly. let me at least take some of the burden off of you by buying your plane ticket.”

it seemed to be decided as the brunette slowly gave in. her smile turned into a grin and so did will’s seeing her pretty face. “okay, okay, i’ll come visit. next weekend i have no tests or anything to worry about,” the hughes decided.

“yes! i knew i could convince you. i’ll buy them right now,” will exclaimed and the girl giggled as she watched her boyfriend open up his laptop.

“i love you,” samy hummed.

“i love you, too,” will blew her a kiss through the phone which samy caught. she held her hand to her heart and giggled when will spun his computer around to show her the tickets he was thinking about buying.

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dokoni-mo · 2 years ago

Text

Crave: Part Six || William Afton x GN! Reader

summary: the eye of the storm

mild NSFW

word count: 4404

warnings: age-gap relationship (reader is 20 william is pushing 40), allusions to mental illness, willy is obsessive, possessive too, and a little creepy, and a hypocrite, and narcissistic lol, and a little bit of a yandere, mentions of divorce, dysfunctional parent-child relationships, secret relationships, swearing, gaslighting, manipulation tactics, dom/sub undertones if you squint, willy is VERY egotistical, allusions to corruption kink, sir kink, smoking, sensual touching, dirty fantasies, praise, lying, erections, indirect mentions of stalking, dirty fantasies, kissing

minors dni // please read warnings!!

part one // two // three // four // five

a/n: helloooo everyone!! I am back again with another part!! I've gotten a lot of messages asking where this was and here it is!! It's my spring break now, so i have time to feed all of you guys again!! thank you to everyone who was patient with me in the meantime, it means a lot <3 hopefully the length of this chapter will make up for the wait!! enjoy!!

~~~

Even though it was very much out of the way, Mr. Afton's office was still far too noisy for his liking.

When first establishing the diner, he was well aware that the target audience was children first, and then their parents second. And, having had children of his own, William knew that children were noisy. Very noisy. But surely their parents could control them in public spaces, yes? Other kids want to enjoy the animatronics and the music too. And that's hard to do when brat one and brat two are screaming their heads off. So surely the parents would teach them some manners, right?

No. Of course not. He was being too optimistic.

And, over the years, William found that smoking was the only cure to his headaches. They were frequent while at work, and he took frequent long breaks to cure them. The nicotine was the only remedy.

Aside from his bunny, of course. Though you were far more addicting than the nicotine.

William hadn't heard a word from you ever since the incident with Michael on Monday. It was Wednesday now, and he still missed you just as much as he had prior. You remembered your rules, didn't you? Phone him once a week? Don't tell him you forgot already. Each minute that ticked by he could feel the pull of anticipation coming from whatever phone was nearby. Hell, he had barely slept the last few nights because he wanted to be sure he'd get your call. But the lack of sleep was getting to him. He could feel it in the sting of his eyes every time he blinked.

Damn it, bunny. You need to be more attentive with these things.

Running his hand through his brown-grey hair, he breathed out a heavy sigh as he tamped out his third cigarette of the day. His elbows were situated heavy on his expensive, messy desk, leaned forward in his chair. He needed to get a hold of himself. It had only been a few days. You were a good bunny, and of course you were gonna follow the rules. William shouldn't chastise you too much. You had things to do, most likely. Or just wanted to wait to play it safe. He just missed you a lot more than he expected. Especially after all that with Michael.

The brit felt his jaw clench, reaching in his desk drawer for a fresh pack of cigarettes.

Who the fuck did that boy even think he was? He had no right to disturb William's peace like that, sticking his nose where it didn't belong. Your relationship with the older man was none of his damned business. And who was he to even question it to begin with? Question him? Question you? Poor bunny. You were probably so frightened, weren't you? William hoped you weren't scared off too much, enough to where you didn't want to call. Did you think it was best not to anymore? God damn it. Mr. Afton wished he could communicate with you better.

The brit bent his neck down as he pulled open one of his drawers, searching for his lighter.

Fucking Michael. Always ruining shit. William was getting fucking sick and tired of his bullshit, having to be the ring-leader in the fuckery circus. Michael was a damn brat.

He'd fucking pay for this.

After successfully lighting the cigarette, William heard a knock as he put the lighter away. A brief twinge of hope rushed through him as he looked up at his office door. Could it be you, little bunny? Did you not call because you were planning to visit him this whole time? Sweet little one. Always so considerate.

But, then again...

William's excitement vanished as soon as it came up. He gave you the key to his office, and instructed you to let yourself in. This couldn't be you, no.

Damn. Fucking, damn.

Fuck whoever this was. He could go fuck himself.

Clearing his throat, William put on his rehearsed friendly voice as he called out to the mystery person.

"Come in!"

The door clicking open and shut, William was greeted with a pleasant surprise, but not the one he was hoping for.

Henry.

William felt a little bad for thinking Henry should go fuck himself.

Henry was William's best friend. Hell, in a lot of ways, William's only friend. At least the only person that he considered to be a real friend. Aside from his bunny, Henry was the only person William allowed to be at least somewhat of himself around. Of course, the brit was never fully himself, no. He knew if Henry saw the real him, his American friend would want nothing to do with the brit. No, his true self was only reserved for you, little one. Because he just loved you that much. And you loved him just the same. But still, Henry was a close friend to William. They had known each other since William had first stepped foot in the states, all those years ago. William knew everything about Henry, and Henry knew all he needed to know. It was a nice friendship.

Stepping through the door, William noticed right away that Henry was slightly out of breath, sweaty too. Being a heavier-set man, Henry was prone to sweating every now and again, but the slickness in his fiery reddish-blond hair told William that he'd probably just stepped out of the Fredbear costume. Henry's glasses were fogged, but he seemed more preoccupied with catching his breath to care right now.

"Hey, Bill! Sorry to barge in." Henry chuckled to his friend, leaning against the cool surface of the wooden door, "I just had to get away from those kids out there."

William gave the man the most sympathetic smile he could, taking a puff of his cigarette, "Tough crowd, hm?"

Henry chuckled again, shaking his head, "Nah, just really excited to see Fredbear. They missed ol' Bonnie though, you know."

The brit breathed out a hum, "Well Bonnie had to file his restaurant's taxes this afternoon. And someone has to keep this place afloat, no?"

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks for taking care of that, by the way. I know how much you hate crunching the numbers."

"It's no big deal." William sat back in his chair, putting his feet up on the desk, "I'd argue you got the tougher job today out of anyone."

Henry laughed again, one of his signature belly-laughs, "Yeah, yeah, that's fair. How's it going, Bill? How're you?"

William knew that Henry was going to be keen on talking, so that meant not much time for smoking. The brit took one last puff of nicotine before tamping it out.

"Quite well, actually. You?"

"Oh, you know me! Same old, same old. How're the kids doing? I hear Mikey's getting along well in college these days! That's good for him, though. I remember how much he used to struggle. I told him though, he just needed to find his people, find what he's passionate about, yknow?"

William felt his jaw clench. The only thing his son was passionate about was making a mess of things.

"He's doing fine, yeah." William said, "Though he's hardly ever home long enough for me to ask these days. But, I haven't gotten a letter of expulsion. So I assume all is well, yeah?"

Henry laughed, "Definitely! And how 'bout lil' Evan and Liz? Jee, it's been forever since I've seen them two. They grow like weeds at this age, at least Charlie did. Bet they're huge now!"

William let his smile fall a little, "Actually, I haven't seen them much either."

"Oh? Really?"

"Really." William took his feet off his desk and sat forward in his seat, "Clara seems not quite as willing to let them come over these days, it seems. Something about Evan's nightmares popping up again. The robots seemed to frighten him more than I had realized."

Henry crossed his arms, "Ah, jee, Bill. I'm so sorry. I know you gotta miss 'em."

"I do. I know Clara has her reasons, but... Let's just say the house is a lot more quiet with just me and Mike in there, yeah?"

Henry seemed to finally catch his breath and stop sweating now, taking off his fogged glasses. Glancing between the brit and the lenses, the red-head used the end of his t-shirt to wipe the glass.

"Yknow, Bill," Henry began, "It's been about 8 years since you and Clara split. Maybe it's time to, yknow... get back out there. It's not too late, even for old guys like us. I'm sure the kids would understand, too. At least eventually they would."

William felt another smile threaten to creep up on his face. Oh, Henry. You poor soul. The brit appreciated the sentiment, but there wasn't any need to worry about him. At least, not now. Not anymore. William had his precious, adorable little bunny now. And they were everything the older man needed and more. All he'd ever need ever again.

Fuck.

He missed you. He missed you so fucking much.

Henry seemed genuinely worried for William, too. Not that Henry wasn't ever genuine. Aside from his bunny, Henry was the most genuine person William had ever met. Never had a bad word to say to anyone about anything. It allowed William to put some of his trust in Henry, and make him a friend.

The extent of that trust?

Enough to tell Henry about you. Or, at least, tell him a little bit about you. Henry didn't need to know the whole truth.

Just enough for William to stop missing you so much.

"Actually," William began, his smile finally spilling over onto his handsome features, "I have... met someone, you could say."

Henry looked to the brit with shock and amusement, his smile widening as he put his glasses back on, "No way, really?! Bill, that's great! I mean... wow! I didn't even realize you were looking!"

"Thank you. We only started... seeing each other this past weekend. But, I already like them quite a bit. They are... unlike anyone I've ever met before. We click, yeah?"

The American let out an amused chuckle, "Wow, I mean, that's amazing, man! What's their name? Where're the from?"

William knew that he couldn't give Henry your real name. This town was too small. If Henry didn't already know you, he'd find out who you were one way or another. And he wasn't ready for that yet.

"Their name is... Bunny. From... Vegas."

"Vegas, huh? Interesting! What're they like?"

William let out a hum from the back of his throat, picturing your little face in his head, "Everything I could ever want. Or need."

Henry laughed again, "Wow, sounds like you really like 'em!"

"I do. Though they're a busy person. It's... difficult for us to be together all the time. I miss them terribly."

"I can understand that. It was like that with me and the Mrs. for a while there. Especially when setting up this joint." Henry responded as he patted the doorframe for emphasis, "But! Yknow what really helped us back then?"

"Hm?"

"When the dust settled enough, we took a week away! Just her and I, and left Charlie with the grandparents. It really helped us, like, reassure each other that we were our biggest priorities. It's like we fell in love all over again! We still talk about it to this day!"

William felt his lips part as he listened to his friend. A week away, hm? Now that did sound intriguing. The idea of getting away from this shithole town and whisking you away somewhere private did sound nice. Somewhere nice and secluded, so it could just be you and him. No worries looming over your shoulders of being caught, or leaving some sort of trail behind. Somewhere where you didn't have to look over your shoulder, and fully be in the moment. Together.

The brit shifted his grey eyes over to the calendar at the front of his desk. Your fall break was coming up soon. Next week, to be precise. Would that be enough time to plan all of it out? Money wasn't an issue to William, not at all. But he just wondered if him and you could be away for a whole weekend without raising any eyebrows.

But, then again. College students rarely stayed around town that week. Hell, Michael would probably be even spending it a this mother's. That makes things more convenient. William could just say he needs to travel for business. And he could just get you to say that you were spending it away at distant relative's houses.

Yes, that could work.

But where would he take you? There's that national park upstate not too far away. Tucked away in the few woods that Utah had. William remembered taking his family up there once a long time ago, when Michael was still in high school. The only people there were a few other families, as well as the managers of the hotel site. And they wouldn't give a damn about anything that the two of you could possibly get up to, so long as things stay quiet and the checks cleared.

Though, if William gets you all to himself like that... it might be a bit hard to keep you quiet.

He wanted to hear just how loud his little bunny could get.

But, that could sort itself out later.

Henry was a smart man.

When William got back after next week, he'd have to thank him for the wonderful idea.

~~~

"A trip? Together? Will, don't you think that's a bit... risky?"

It wasn't until the sun had started to creep down the horizon the next day that you called. Although his talk with Henry had helped, William still missed you deeply during the time in between. His fantasies of you and the jacket that he stole could only keep him company for so long. He was just grateful that he had been home when you called, and that Michael wasn't there to ruin any more shit.

William didn't expect you to be so apprehensive about his little idea. He assumed that if he was the one that brought up something like that, you'd know that it was safe to do so. William is smart, little one. He's already thought every little detail through. Don't you trust him not to put you in any kind of danger?

He told you that you two would leave on Sunday, it being Thursday now. This would give you time to wrap up anything for school that you had outstanding, if any, and give him enough time to sort things out. The hotel reservation. Lying to everyone that he'd be on a business trip. Making sure that idiot Michael was tucked away at his mother's for the week. Plus, enough time for him to think of what the two of you would do up there, tucked away in the little corner of the woods.

Alone.

Without any prying eyes.

Oh bunny. If only you knew what he was capable of. When things were perfect like that. When things were how they should be.

"It's not risky at all, love." He responded to you, holding the phone up with his shoulder as he circled the number of the Hotel on the newspaper, "We'd be far enough away from town to where no one would recognize us. It's just a tourist destination anyway, bit run down, yeah? There'd be no one we'd know, just perhaps a few other passer-bys."

William could hear how you turned over in your bed from the other end of the phone, perhaps to prop yourself up on your elbows, "But what if someone is there? Like, how're we supposed to explain that?"

"Love, there's not going to be anyone there we know."

"Yeah, but... what if there is?"

William chuckled as he set the newspaper down, re-grabbing the phone from off his shoulder, "You worry far too much, bunny."

"Well I don't think you're worried enough, Will. This could be really dangerous for us..."

"But it won't be, (Y/N). I wouldn't have suggested it if I thought it'd be too dangerous. You know that."

You sighed, "I do, it's just..."

The brit shifted the phone to his other ear as he leaned his back against the wall, "What, love? You can tell me."

"It's just I don't wanna be, like... found out this early on. Like, what if someone really is there? And we can't see each other again because of it? And we'd have to go back home and pretend to be strangers again and it all gets, like, ruined and..."

You trailed off towards the end, but William understood what you were trying to say. Oh, sweet bunny. It's so cute you were so worried. But it wasn't anything to worry about in the first place, and perhaps you knew that deep down. You like to worry yourself silly, don't you, little one? Turns out you were far more paranoid than even William himself. Didn't that wear you out?

You need to calm down, bunny. William would never let anything stand between you and him. He loved you, and he'd fight for you until the bitter end.

"Bunny, listen to me, yeah?" The brit hummed, "Nothing is going to happen out there. I'll make sure nothing could possibly go wrong. And even if something did, it won't be anything for you to fret over, love. I'll take care of everything. I promise."

You fell silent for a few moments, but eventually let out a tiny sigh, the ruffling of your bed covers coming from the background again.

"Finneeeee." You breathed out, "But only if you're sure it'll be okay."

William felt his grin stretch across his handsome face, "I'm certain, little one. Just leave it all the me, yeah?"

"Where even is this place again? I've never heard of it before."

"It's only a few hours north of here. Kind of out in the middle of nowhere, but that just means no one will bother us with our... quality time."

The older man heard how you giggled over the phone, imagining the blush that came up on your cheeks, "Where'd you even hear of this place to begin with? You don't seem like the outdoors-y type. No offense."

"Ah, no, love, I'm not, but I used to take my kids up there every now and again. Back when we all still lived together."

"I see... Will, yknow, if you'd rather spend this week with them, I won't be offen-"

William chuckled again, "No, love, it's quite alright. Michael's too old for that sort of thing now, and the ex-wife is already taking the other two up to her mum's. Besides, I'd much rather be with you, anyway. I miss you, bunny."

"I miss you too, Will."

He let out a pleased hum, "Are you excited, love?"

"I am! I'm gonna start packing in the morning after my midterm."

"If you need any help, bunny, just give me a ring, alright?"

"I will, I will. Oh, and after we get back, just tell me how much everything was and I'll give you back half-"

William laughed again, amused by how cute you were, "Darling, please. There'll be none of that. I've got it all covered, sweet thing."

He heard you sit up in your bed, "Oh my god, no! Will, please, I can't ask you to do all that for m-"

"It's not an issue, bunny. Trust me."

"Still! That's a lot of money, and I can't just-"

The brit chuckled, "You can, love. I've got it all taken care of. Having you with me is payback enough, I promise. This isn't putting me out or anything. Just in this phone call I've made enough money to cover it two times over. Just be a good bunny for me, yeah? Let me spoil my sweet rabbit a bit. Think of this as just a little... honeymoon, of sorts. Alright?"

He could practically hear your blush from the other end, "O-Okay... Thank you, Will. Thank you very much, I... no one's ever been this kind to me before. So thank you."

"It's not a problem, little one. There's no need to thank me. This is just what you get when you're good for me, yeah? Do you understand?"

"I do."

"Good bunny. Though, if you really do want to say thank you, how about a nice kiss when I see you on Sunday, hm? Could you do that for me?"

You breathed out a smile, "Yeah, I can. Yes sir."

William let out another pleased hum, his smirk stretching even further, "Good bunny. It's getting late, little one. You should get some rest. We've got a long week ahead of us."

You ruffled around to where you were lying down again, "Yeah, you're right. Just... thank you again, Will. For everything."

"Of course, love. Anytime. Good luck on your exam tomorrow, yeah? I know you'll do fine. I'll see you Sunday, alright?"

"See ya Sunday, Will. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, bunny."

~~~

"Okay, Mike. Next one. The principle of conservation of momentum is a direct consequence of Newton's third law of motion. True or False?"

"Umm... false?"

"Mike! Come on, we learned this in high school!"

Michael groaned at his own cluelessness as you laughed at him for the umpteenth time today. It was Friday morning, much too early and much too cold to be cramming for a physics midterm. Yet, here Michael was.

With you.

The moment he locked eyes with you on campus, Michael had drug you away to your usual shared study-spot. Behind the old welcome center, which gradually had turned into a dumping site for any supplies or equipment the college didn't need anymore, but didn't bother to throw out. The cinder-block building made it much colder than it already was, but it was secluded. It always let the two of you be outside but without anyone threatening the join. You and Michael were a bit awkward. Not much of talkers to outsiders.

You were in your usual spot up on the ledge of the building. It was structured in a way in which part of the corner was cut out from the main walls. Originally intended for some sort of statue or monument, the corner was left empty once people lost interest in any sort of project being placed there. But, it made a nice little human-sized cubby to sit in. Your back was against the cold brick wall, with Michael sitting opposite you with his back on the stone as well. A flurry of old assignments and your books were strewn about in the narrow space between you and him, your legs tangled together in a bit of a mess.

Though you weren't in his physics class, you knew how much Michael struggled with it. Admittedly, he was never much of a math guy. Or any kind of school guy, really. But, you were. Michael knew you were a nerd. Even though you'd never admit it, you were. He'd joke about it to you every now and again, but deep down, admired that about you. You never needed to study much for anything. Or at least, not nearly to the magnitude he needed to.

That's why he didn't feel bad making you help him last-minute cram that morning. He knew you would be fine without studying for your test. Well, it was two birds with one stone, in a way. He both desperately needed the help, and desperately needed to know what was up with you.

He hadn't spoken to you since Monday of that same week, after his father had forced him to call you. Michael felt bad about potentially worrying you then, or even just calling you at such an ungodly hour, but he had decided it was ultimately for the best. He knew his father did some shit to you.

And he had to know what that shit was.

He knew that old man would rather finally croak than spill the beans, so he had to rely on you to give him answers. Seeing as you had most likely lied to him over the phone (not that he blamed you too much, he knew how manipulative the old geezer could be), he'd have to rely on his intuition as best he could. From the cues you gave.

But, that was the problem.

Although you hadn't lied to him before, nor really hid anything from him, turns you were damn good at it.

On Monday, he hadn't been able to pick up anything from you at all. You had greeted him and hung out with him like nothing was wrong. And hell, even now, you still were. You were your same old self. Just perhaps slightly... happier? More energetic?

That should be a good thing. Michael wanted to be happy for you.

But he knew something was up. It wasn't just a coincidence. And he needed to get to the bottom of it.

For you.

"This is all bullshit, anyway!" Michael exclaimed, running his hands though his long, feathered hair, "I didn't care back then about this shit, and I still don't now!"

You dropped the stack of flash-cards down to look at your friend square in his freckled face, "Mike, if you wanna be an engineer, you're gonna have to know Newton's Laws. It's, like, the main thing."

Michael scoffed, but not annoyedly, "Look, all I'm saying is, if they were really that important, I'd already know them."

The young man heard you laugh again, "Maybe if you already knew them you'd not be failing."

"I am not failing! I actually have a C this semester, thank you very much."

"Thaaaaat's nearly failing, Mike."

"Well thank god I've got the best tutor ever then, right?"

Michael felt himself smile to match your own, watching you roll your eyes playfully as you shuffled the flash cards in your hands, "It's just one more test then we're outta here. Then you can diss Newton all you want. But for now, we need to study."

Michael's grey eyes fell to the cards, silence falling over him. Right, fall break. He had forgotten all about it. He was gonna head up to his mom's house, with Liz and Evan.

But, his father...

"Hey," he said, "I never asked you. What're you doing for break?"

You glanced up at your friend at his question, only for your eyes to fall down to your hands again, "Actually, I'm gonna go outta town."

Michael shifted in his seat, "Out of town?"

"Yeah," you responded, "My grandma invited me to her place up state. I'm gonna spend the week with her."

"Where does she live?"

"I don't remember off the top of my head. But somewhere up in the woods."

The woods...

"What're you gonna do?" You asked him, catching the young man a bit off guard.

"Oh," he said, "I'm gonna go spend time with my mum and brother and sister. Probably the whole week."

Michael watched as you smiled at him, searching for any sort of hint behind your eyes, "That sounds fun. Hope you have a good time."

"Yeah... too bad my dad won't be coming."

Michael saw you glance up again at him.

"He won't?"

"Nah. Something about a business trip."

"That's understandable, though. Gotta do what you gotta do. I'm just surprised you'd miss him. It's not like you were ever his biggest fan."

Michael scoffed again, "Yeah. Maybe it's for the best."

"Yeah... maybe."

Silence fell over the two of you again, only broken by the shuffling of paper in your hands and the cool Utah air flooding through the trees in the distance.

Shit. Had Michael fucked it up? Was he being too direct? He never really talked to you too much about his relationship with his dad. At least, not in-depth, and nothing besides the occasional venting session. He'd have to explain every little nuance to you for you to get the whole picture. Of why he felt how he felt abut his old man. And he never wanted to unpack all that onto you. It wasn't fair. It wasn't your job to take care of him.

But, still.

He needed to get to the bottom of this.

"You think so too?" He asked, tearing your gaze away from the flashcards to focus on him.

"I mean," you said, "Things turn out how they do for a reason. Maybe it's just not time for a family reunion yet."

"Yeah, you're right... It's just, I kinda miss how things were before, yknow? When my mum and dad were still together."

"I can understand that. But, ultimately, it happened for a reason. And they probably did it because it just would've been best for you and your siblings. Better than just letting it... sit and brew, right?"

"I guess... So, does your grandma, like, live in a cabin or something? Is she a witch?"

You laughed, "No, no. Not a witch. At least from what I remember. And yeah I think it's a cabin. Or at least kinda like one. She rents it out occasionally, too."

A rentable cabin...

In the woods...

"For, like, tourists?"

"Or just any passers-by."

Michael felt his lips part at your words, a small pit forming in the bottom of his stomach.

The woods. The cabin. Your trip. His dad's trip.

Oh god.

Oh fucking god.

"Umm, Mike?" the young man heard you ask, briefly snapping out of his train of thought, "Are you good?"

Michael looked to you again and threw on his best smile, running a hand through his hair, "Shit, I'm so sorry, (Y/N)! I just remembered I agreed to study with Steven this morning. Sorry, but I gotta run!"

The young man stood up and threw all his things into his backpack quicker than he ever had before. He didn't even care how all his papers were being crumpled, and the bookmarks were flying out of the pages.

You watched him with a somewhat confused expression, "Uhhh, okay? I can come with if you-"

"No, no, it's alright!" Michael exclaimed, almost too quickly, "You've already helped me more than enough, thanks. I just really gotta run."

Once all his stuff was in, Michael threw his bag over his shoulder, not even bothering to zip it up, "I'll see you after break, alright? Have a good week, (Y/N). Enjoy your grandma's."

Michael heard you call out something back to him, but he was already trudged off in the opposite direction. He didn't look back, not even once, his grey eyes fixated to the ground.

They stayed there for a good long while.

Until his legs carried him to the pay phone, his arms searched through his pockets, his fingers put in the quarter, and dialed his mother's number.

~~~

When Sunday rolled around, William had spent a fuck ton of time getting ready that morning. A lot longer than he normally did.

The brit had hardly slept the night before. He was just way too excited about what was to come after the sun had risen. An entire week away. With his precious bunny at his side. Away from this fuckhole town. Away from all the idiots that lived here. Away from his business. Away from his lonely home. Away from Michael. Away from any prying eyes that might threaten to take you away from him.

No. Come that morning, he'd be able to get away from it all. And have you close to him. Where you should always be.

He had laid out his best outfit before settling into bed the previous night. The purple sweater-vest he loved so much, with his black tie, slacks, and dress shoes. all tied together with his light-purple dress shirt underneath, accented with his silver watch and class ring from his university. Staring at himself in the mirror for what felt like hours, he had finally gotten his brown-and-grey hair to fall as perfectly as he wanted. As he would expect for himself when seeing you. You were already perfect for him. The least he could do was be the same for you.

Before William marched out the door to his car, he made sure to give himself an extra spritz of his cologne. Just to be sure that you'd be able to memorize his scent over this week. He planned by the end to either give you a piece of the clothes he had packed for you to keep, or spray his own cologne on your clothes. To give you some sort of unconscious reminder of him. For when the week was over. He was leaning towards the latter, however. Easier to slip in, and more long-lasting.

He'd think about it. He had plenty of time to decide.

The older man had already packed everything he needed long before the weekend ever came. He wanted to make sure that he didn't forget anything. This week needed to go by as perfectly as possible. He knew he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he fucked it up somehow. Sure, yes, you were his good bunny. You'd reassure him with your adorable smile that everything was okay. But it wouldn't be, bunny.

There was no room for fuck-ups this week.

None.

Even though, William was pretty sure he was about to fuck-up at any second right then.

You and him had agreed that he would be he one to drive the two of you to the hotel. More like William decided, but you didn't seem to protest too much. At least not that he could pick up on. But, with that, William knew that he'd have to help you carry your luggage. Over the phone, you didn't say as much. Not in any way that might embarrass yourself.

"It might be a little tough for me to haul my shit down the stairs." You told him over the phone, "So just be patient with me, alright?"

William smiled to himself as he recalled your little voice. Oh, bunny. His silly little bunny. There's no shame in asking William to help you, sweet thing. Wouldn't you like to see a display of his strength? See just how much he can lift without any trouble at all? Why'd you want to see that, bunny? To see how well he could throw you around during you and his playtime?

Naughty bunny. Naughty naughty bunny. Who knew your mind was so filthy?

The brit was waiting outside of your door for you to answer, the sound of the wind breaking between the trees and the gentle rumble of his car's engine filling his rosy ears. He had knocked a few minutes ago, and was trying to be as patient as possible for you to answer. William knew you were awake. If he was careful about it, he could hear you scurrying around your house in a mad dash. It was cute. And he was a patient man.

Normally speaking.

William found it hard to resist the urge to just kick down the door and scoop you up into his arms. He had missed you so fucking much in the days leading up to today. His heart ached for you. His body ached for you. Just like before, he could already feel himself starting to harden inside his trousers. Just in the excitement and anticipation of seeing you again. The heat on his cheeks was creeping down his neck, making him shudder in the cold morning air.

Fucking hell. He was glad he picked out black to wear again today. Any other color, and you would've noticed his hard-on. As much as he loved playing with his bunny, he wanted to just be sweet and loving with you today. Hold you close. Kiss those adorable cheeks. Fuck. He just wanted you near him; needed you near him. Your warmth against his was so addicting. He had gone far too long without it. The jacket he stole from you was fine, but it wasn't the same. It couldn't replicate the feeling of your chest against his. The feeling of your plush thighs overtop his own. The way your little fingers ran through his hair, and down his scars... Fuck, bunny. Fucking hell. How we wanted you to touch him again. How we wanted to touch you again. Your skin was so smooth and soft. The way his long, calloused fingers could just slide across your belly and thighs like it was nothing. The dip of your waist own to your hips, and how his hands fit so perfectly there. God fucking damn. And your cute little butt; god above how he loved it. How he could just-

Before William could fantasize any more, the door keeping him from you finally clicked open, ripping his gaze away from the trees in the distance. The older man felt his lips gently part, finally being able to drink in the sight of you again. After so long.

Even though you were awake, it looked like you hadn't been for too long. For one, you were still in your pajamas. And you hadn't even seemed to comb your hair yet. Or, if you had, whatever you were doing made it unkept again. you were smiling at him, but your adorable little eyes were still tired. He could see the faint dark circles that lingered under them, coupled with the sheen of redness from within.

He was really happy he wore black trousers that day.

"Morning, Will!" you said, your sleepiness still in your voice, "Sorry to keep you waiting, just gimme-"

Before you could finish your sentiment, William pushed himself through the door and slammed it shut behind him. You had taken a few steps back from his sudden barging-in, but he was quick to close the distance between the two of you, the surprise of it all lighting up your sleepy eyes. Snaking one of his arms around your middle, his other hand landing on your cheek, William closed the rest of the distance between you and him, capturing your sweet, soft lips into a kiss. You had let out a tiny hum of protest from his sudden movements, but quickly stopped as you eased in, reciprocating the older man's affections. As the kiss deepened, William gently was able to turn the two of you around, backing you up against the door with your shoulder blades flush against the wood.

Your hands eventually found their home on his shoulders, allowing himself to press further against you. He wasn't too sure if you could feel the hardness in his pants against your thigh or not, but he didn't fucking care. All that mattered was that you were here. You were in his arms again, after so fucking long. You hadn't gotten much better at kissing since the last time he saw you, but he didn't fucking care about that either. All that mattered was that they were your kisses. And it was him that got to kiss you.

Did you understand that, bunny?

Only he was allowed to kiss you.

Him.

And only him.

Because you were his sweet, adorable, sexy baby bunny.

You eventually had to pull away for air, but that didn't stop William's barrage of affection onto you. With no more access to your lips, the brit turned his attention to your neck, tilting his head down towards the soft flesh. He could feel how you gripped onto him tighter as he gave you quick, demanding little bites against the side of your windpipe, sucking on the skin every now and again. It wasn't until his hands started to wander under your shirt that you said anything.

"Will!" You exclaimed, a slight giggle in your voice, "Please! I missed you too, but calm down!"

The brit let out a hum against your neck, moving his hand back to your waist as he gave your collarbones a few more kisses, "I'm sorry, bunny. I just missed you... I missed you a lot."

You giggled again at him, "It's okay, I missed you too. I'm just really tired. I didn't sleep too well last night."

Tilting his head back up, William gave you a kiss to your blushy cheek before locking eyes with you again, brushing the hair away from your face.

"No?" He asked, admiring his precious bunny's adorable features. You were even cuter than the last time he saw you.

"Yeah, I was too excited. And I kept feeling like... I dunno. Like I was gonna forget something."

"I understand, love. I was in the same boat myself." He leaned down to you, pressing a quick peck against your lips, "You can sleep on the car ride if you want to, bunny. I won't mind."

"It's alright. I'm used to staying up anyway, but... thanks again, Will. For all of this. I just... No one's ever done something like this for me before. It's a little hard to believe this is, like, real."

The older man chuckled, giving you another quick kiss, "There's really no need to thank me, darling. I've already gotten all the thanks I need."

Breathing out another smile, you stood on your tip-toes to press one last kiss against his lips.

"I hate to ask you this, but..." you said, "I can't lift my suitcase enough to get it downstairs. Can you help me? Please?"

William smiled. You were just too cute.

"Of course, bunny."

"Thank you. Come on, it's upstairs in my room."

Even though he was reluctant to do so, William let you go out of his grasp, immediately feeling a lot colder without you close to him. Following behind you, he could already see how the fresh hickies he had given you were starting to form. Three bright red spots now lined the right side of your neck, marking you as his.

William couldn't help but smirk to himself.

Your house was smaller than William's was, and much more empty too. You had told him before that it was largely only you that lived there now. Your parents lived there too, but only when they were around. Which was next to never, their line of work having them over-seas a majority of the time. Even still, the house was a bit of a mess for only having one person living in it. Granted, it's not like you had to clean up if you didn't want to. You weren't trying to keep a tidy home for everyone else. While William was definitely more of a tidy person, he understood the mess. And, admittedly, found it a little comforting.

It was your mess, after all.

This feeling of comfort only magnified itself the closer you lead him to your room. The mess gradually got messier as he neared the door, and the items strewn about became progressively more personal to you. Papers turned to books. Books turned to albums. Albums turned to clothes. Clothes turned into your more... personal clothes.

Fucking Christ.

William wanted to steal some of those too.

But eventually, all of the different items eventually amalgamated into your room. Both you and him had to step over a few piles of things to get past the door, but he was the first to stop. He was positioned just a foot or so past your bedroom door, while you scurried off more towards the back of it all.

"Sorry about all the mess," you said over your shoulder, "I meant to clean up before you came, but... I slept through my alarm."

William looked down to his feet at your words, kicking over a pile of your clothes gently to investigate its contents, "It's alright, love. I've seen much worse."

"Just wait there for a sec. I need to pack a few more things first."

William took this as a cue to further his investigation into your room. Honestly, it wasn't quite what he expected. Although, he had never really given any thought into how it might've looked. But regardless, he found himself quite fond of it.

Because it was just so... you.

It had all your favorite things in it. The posters on the wall of your favorite bands. The pictures of you and your family. A few art pieces that seemed just a bit aged. All the little trinkets and knick-knacks that lined shelves full of books you liked. The clothes you liked strewn about the ground. Album covers. Old movie ticket stubs. Your schoolwork. Your sheets. Your stuffed animals. Your scent.

It was like William had stepped inside of your mind.

And he fucking loved it.

Why didn't he think of this sooner? Coming into your room? He would've been able to learn so much more about you so much quicker than he had. Instead of pestering his dumbass son, he could've just come here all along. Oh god. Oh fucking god. This was all too much. He was surrounded by you. Everywhere he looked was something to remind him of you, because everything was you. Fucking hell. It smelled just like you too. And your bed. Your fucking bed. Just inches away from him, the place where you slept at night whilst away from him. The very thing that housed all your dreams, your phone calls, your tears, your study sessions, your pleasure. Did you think of him in there, bunny? How many times has his name echoed off of those walls? How many times have you imagined him there with you? Did you picture him slipping on top of you in that bed? Did you fantasize about his hands roaming up and down your body there? Did you? Was it his lips you imagined on your flesh? His voice you wanted to whisper in your ear?

Oh it was bunny. He knew it was. Just like he had done for you, in his own bed.

William was grateful to hear your voice again from the other side of the room. He was worried he might have another accident if he hadn't been stopped.

"Like what you see?" You asked him, shoving a few last-minute things into your suitcase.

The brit cleared his throat before responding to you, "I do actually, yes."

He hard you scoff playfully, "You don't have to humor me, Will. I know you're a neat-freak."

"No, no, I do like it, bunny." He reassured you, "It's very... you."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"A good thing, of course."

You chuckled, "Well I guess it makes sense. I've had the same room since the day I was born."

William felt one of his brows raise, "You've never moved?"

"Nah. This house has been in the family since, like, the 20s or something. I've never been outside of Hurricane, actually."

The older man felt his bewilderment grow, "Never?"

"Never ever. Other than a Disney trip when I was a baby, but I don't remember anything from it so it doesn't count. This trip will be my first time out of the city."

"Is that so... Well, I'm honored to be your first, bunny."

You chuckled again, "You're a lot of my firsts, Will."

William smiled to himself. Indeed he was, little bunny. Just like how it should be. You'd never need another man in your life, anyway. Not anymore, not after being his now. Isn't that all you'd ever want?

This trip was going to be good for you. He knew it would.

"Well I'm honored to be all of them."

~~~

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me."

"Oh, hey, sugar. What's up?"

"I have an update. On what's going on."

"Already? That's good, I just didn't expect somethin' so soon. Especially with him."

"Yeah, me neither, but... I think it might be worse than we thought."

"Worse how, baby?"

"Do you remember that old hotel place up state? We used to vacation to, like, before?"

"Oh God, don't tell me..."

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure they're heading there this weekend."

"I understand. I can get there before them if I leave tonight. Will you be here by then? To watch the kiddos?"

"Yeah, I will. What do you want me to tell them?"

"Just say I'm visiting their Auntie for a day or two and you're gonna watch them. I'll leave some money out on the counter for pizza, and there'll be some leftovers in the fridge. Just keep an extra eye on your brother, pumpkin. Poor thing's been having bad dreams again."

"Does he know?"

"No, I haven't told either of them. Probably won't, if I'm bein' honest."

"That's probably for the best. Just wait until they're older. I can't imagine trying to explain it to them now."

"They still love him, baby. It's better not to break their little hearts all over again."

"I know, I know, just... I wish they could know the truth. I feel like I'm lying to them."

"You're not, sugar. You're just protectin' them. They're just kids, pumpkin pie. Let 'em believe their daddy is a good man just a little bit longer."

"But he isn't. That's the thing. He's already fucked us up, now he's fucking my best friend up."

"I know, sweetie, I know. But we'll get it all fixed up, I promise you. Save 'em before it's too late 'n all."

"Yeah... yeah, you're right, I just... I'm sorry. I'm just worried."

"I know you are, I am too. But worryin' isn't gonna solve anythin'. Not right now. I'll be up there before sunrise tomorrow. I'll take care of it, sugar. Just try and enjoy your break in the meantime."

"Are you going to need any help? I can bring Liz and Ev up to Grandma's for a little."

"I don't think so. The restrainin' order should scare him off enough, but I'm gonna wait until I can get your little friend alone just to be sure."

"Okay... only if you're sure."

"Positive, baby. Don't you be worryin' about me, now. This ain't my first rodeo with him."

"Heh, yeah... You're right. As usual."

"Should I mention you when the time comes?"

"If you want. (Y/N)'s gonna figure it out quickly, anyway, so..."

"Okay."

"Thank you again. For all of this, I... I don't know what I'd do without you. I can't win against him."

"It's no trouble at all, sugar. Anything to keep it from happenin' again."

"Yeah..."

"Good luck on your test, baby. I gotta go start packin' now, okay? I love you, Mikey. Everything's gonna be fine."

"I love you too, mum. Thanks."

~~~

tags: @guinea-pig16 @the-official-memester @randomwriteralan @mrsrogerwaters @lalyaaftonshit @cherry-slushee @insert-memical-username @mrssafton @horrorking2000 @artist-anon08 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @jamiethenerdymonster @kimyona-san @purplewolfcoffee @violetlmfaoo @reapersimps @wawuwe @lovinglenore @zoey5252

apologies to any blogs tumblr wont let me tag!! also if i forgot to add you please let me know!!

#william afton x you #william afton smut #william afton x reader #william afton #dave miller x reader #fnaf x y/n #fnaf x you #fnaf x reader #fnaf smut

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zorosangell · 2 months ago

Text

⛥ﾟ・。 protector: chapter fifteen

synopsis: " you were supposed to stay a crewate, just another back to watch, " he tightened his hold, " i didn't even notice the change until i woke up one day and realized i'd take a bullet for you "

cw: violence, gore, fighting, mature themes, profanity, MAJOR/MINOR ANIME SPOILERS, follows the plot of the anime, slowww burn.

a/n: reposting from another account

Once the crew got past Reverse Mountain, the lot of you ran into a gigantic whale, which ended up swallowing all of you.

Inside the whale's stomach, you met an old man Crocus, the keeper of the lighthouse and caretaker of the whale, who's name was Laboon.

He told you the story of Laboon's previous owners, and how he was stuck there until their return.

And while telling the story, these two weirdos, who went by the names of Miss Wednesday and Mr. 9, tried killing Laboon.

Luffy beat them up easily, and got into a fight with the whale, promising to return so they could have a rematch.

And now here you were, the entire crew laid out on the floor after the roughest patch of sea you've ever faced.

Well, not the entire crew.

"C'mon. The weather's nice and all but that's not a reason to be lazy," Zoro scoffed, having just woken up from his nap.

"I'll kill you," you groaned, your voice dangerous.

He turned to Miss Wednesday and Mr. 9, who were also sprawled out on the ground.

"Oh, you guys are still here."

He crouched down, the both of them abruptly sitting up with fearful expressions.

"Wanna tell me what were your strange names were again? 'Cause I don't think that you can be trusted."

"Well," Mr. 9 shakily started, "I'm called Mr. 9."

"And I'm called Miss Wednesday," Wednesday answered as well, her smile faltering.

"Right. You know those names sound familiar, and that's what's bothering me. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I'm certain I've heard them somewhere before. Or maybe I—" you interrupted his rant by punching him in the back of the head, hard.

"You think your lazy ass can just sleep while we do all the work?! You're lucky I didn't throw you overboard!" you scolded, angry.

"Ow! What's the matter with you, woman?!" he exclaimed, rubbing the large knot on his head.

You answered his question by punching him in the same spot twice more, leaving him clutching his head in pain.

"Listen up, everyone! There's no way to know what's gonna happen next. During the terror most of us experienced, I came to an understanding of why this sea is named the Grand Line. My navigation skills are useless here, but mark my words I will guide us through!" Nami announced, proudly.

"Umm... okay. You sure, Nami?" Usopp asked.

She smiled, turning to look out at the distance, "Without a doubt.

"And speaking of which. We're here. Our first journey on the Grand Line comes to an end."

Everyone turned to see the island not too far ahead.

Whiskey Peak.

The island was covered with humongous cacti, some of which stretching up past the clouds.

"This is unlike any landscape I've ever seen," Sanji stated, impressed.

"Those cactus are humongous!" Luffy shouted.

Just then, Mr. 9 and Miss Wednesday jumped onto the rail of the Merry.

"Thank you but we must be leaving," he smirked.

"It's been an interesting ride to say the least," she agreed.

"Bye, bye, baby!"

And with that, they jumped off, back-flipping into the ocean and swimming to shore on their own.

"Buncha weirdos," you scoffed, crossing your arms.

"I guess we'll never learn what those nutjobs were up to," Usopp shrugged.

"Eh, who cares. We're landing!" Luffy smiled.

"There's a waterway right up to the shoreline. It looks like we can go inland by ship," Nami pointed.

"Um, am I the only weighing the possibility of monsters on that island?" Usopp began to shake, nervous.

"It's possible. This is the Grand Line," you shrugged, "Even if there are it's not like we can leave."

"Huh? Why not?" Luffy asked, confused.

"Don't you guys remember what Crocus said. The Log Pose needs enough time to record the islands magnetic field so we have to stay put. The Log Pose needs a different amount of time for each island so some may take a few hours while other may take several days," Nami explained.

You continued up the waterway, a dense fog rolling in and covering up the view of the port.

But as the lot of you got closer, you could her a faint sound.

Faint, but distinct.

"Is that—?"

As the fog cleared, a crowd of what looked like the entire island could be seen gathered at the docks, all cheering and celebrating.

"Greetings and good tidings, travelers!" a man shouted.

"Welcome to Whiskey Peak!" another agreed.

"These aren't monsters. They're people. And they actually look happy to see us," Usopp stated, getting out of his defensive stance and lifting his goggles.

"What the hell's wrong with them?" Sanji asked.

"Pirates are always welcome in our town!" A random woman cheered, whipping around a flag

"Hooray for the heroes of the sea!"

"Hey!" Luffy cheered, sitting down on the head of the Merry.

"This is fishy," you stated bluntly, standing cross-armed next to Zoro.

"Definitely. I'd keep my guard up," he nodded, resting his hand on the hilt of his swords.

"Agreed."

After an entire day and night of partying, the crew was out cold, each asleep with a blissful smile on their faces.

You kept to yourself the entire night, distrusting of the villagers odd hospitality to pirates.

And luckily, that led you here, sitting on a rooftop next to Zoro, as the villagers below plan to raid your ship and murder your crew mates.

Not only that, but it was Zoro who revealed that they were actually a part of some giant criminal organization, all based on bounties and assassinations.

"You mind if I watch?" you smirked, crossing your legs and resting your cheek in your palm.

"Not at all," he smirked back, disappearing from the roof and appearing in the center of all the agents.

"Alright, then. Gimme a good show!" you smiled.

And what proceeded was a long, and hilarious, battle between Zoro and the hundred and some change criminals.

Each one had their own goofy weapon, and each one would get swiftly taken out upon entry, mostly because of their own doing.

"We got you now, girl!" a small fry shouted as he and a group of his friends came running up behind you.

"This'll teach you to mess with Baroque Works!"

"God's Messenger: Army and Point," you stated, not taking your eyes off Zoro's fight.

A large amount of your feathers detached, stabbing and slicing the men like knives with a mind of their own.

Once all of them were down, your feathers returned to you, softening back to normal.

"Will you idiots give it a rest? You're way out of your league," you rolled your eyes.

As you continued to watch the fight, the gears in your head began to turn, and you realized the opportunity put before you.

'If these guys are part of an intelligence agency, then maybe one of them knows something about Doflamingo.'

You turned to the curly-haired guy, Igara-something was his name.

He seemed to be the leader of the small fry.

'Perfect.'

You quickly stood up, unfurling your wings and flying down into the battle, kicking away the mayor's saxophone gun and grabbing him by the collar.

"I'm stealing one, Zoro!" you called as you began to fly straight into the air.

"Find by me!" he shrugged, pushing a bunch of the agents off a ladder.

"What are you doing?! What do you want?!" the man frantically shouted, growing more and more fearful as you flew him higher and higher.

"I'm gonna make this real plain and simple, got it? You tell me what I wanna know, and I won't drop you," you started, your expression stone cold.

"But... you tell me somethin' I don't like," you smirked, "and I'll drop you so hard they'll be scrapin' your remains off the road for weeks."

"Okay! Okay! What do you wanna know?! I'll tell you anything!" he cried, his shaky hands gripping onto your wrists for dear life.

"Tell me where I can find Doflamingo," you ordered, tightening your grip on his collar.

"Doflamingo? I'm sorry but I have no idea what you're talking about! Please you have to believe me! I don't know who that is!" he blubbered.

You smirked, let out a quiet chuckle.

"Damn, Igarrapoi," you started, outstretching your arms.

"That was somethin' I didn't like."

"No, wait! Please! I—!" But before he could plead any more, you dropped him, his body landing one top of a couple of other agents.

He wouldn't be dead, but he'd be battered a good bit.

'Can't kill him for not knowing. But he did plan to kill my crew mates so most of that was deserved.'

"Ya done up there?" Zoro called, sitting himself down on the edge of a different rooftop.

"Yeah, I'm done," you sighed, flying down and sitting next to him.

"The guy had what you're looking for?" he asked.

"Nope. Another dead end," you huffed, glaring at the mayor's body, who seemed to be talking to someone in the alleyway, along with Miss Wednesday and Mr. 9.

"Don't let it discourage you. The further we get on the Grand Line, the more information you'll be able to find," he nodded, placing an assuring hand on your shoulder.

You smiled, a faint red tint rising to the apples of your cheeks.

"Anyway, you think our captain'll be alright. I left 'im down there with those weirdos," he asked, removing his hand.

You were already beginning to miss its warmth.

"Wait, Luffy's down there?" you asked, looking over the ledge to see that Luffy was indeed there, fat and passed out in a wheelbarrow.

Suddenly, the mayor jumped up and pulled the strings of his bowtie, sending a barrage of bullets towards the man and woman he was talking to.

And Luffy was caught dead smack in the middle.

"Dammit. Luffy's trapped," you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"We better go do something about it," Zoro begrudgingly stood up, resting his hand on the hilt of his blade.

"Right behin—" Just then, a gigantic explosion ripped through the gunfire.

And when the smoke cleared, the mayor lay unmoving on the ground.

'This is too much.'

"I've had enough fun for one night," Zoro grumbled, jumping down from the roof and grabbing Luffy by the shirt, dragging him off.

You looked down at the scene again, cocking a brow as the mayor called Miss Wednesday Princess Vivi.

Mr. 9 tried to protect her, but the dread-headed guy picked his nose and shot a booger at the poor guy, blowing him up.

"That's disgusting," you grimaced, shuddering at the thought of explosive boogers.

'Now wait a second. Intelligence agency... secret princess... kingdom in danger... I think I'm starting to get the gist of what's happening around here.'

Flying over the dramatic scene happening with the princess, you met up with Zoro and Nami, who seemed to be arguing over money while the mayor lay on the floor, helpless.

You landed and squatted down to his level, him lifting his head to see you.

"Igara-guy," you started, serious, "Would the princess, or the king of this Alabasta place, know anything about Doflamingo?"

His eyes went wide, and he coughed up a little bit of blood, "I am almost certain that Princess Vivi knows nothing of this Doflamingo you speak of, but King Cobra should surely know."

You smirked, standing up straight.

"Well then, can't let my map die."

You managed to catch up with the princess only to see the exploding-booger guy fire a pretty big one at her.

Quickly, you swooped down and hit it away with your mace, sending it flying and exploding in mid-air.

"Gross! I just hit someone's snot!" you exclaimed, tongue out in disgust.

"You! Don't you pirates give up! Leave me alo—!" you quickly stopped the princess' spinning toy and turned to her, seriously.

"Relax. I'm here to help," you assured, firmly.

"Help?"

"I take it that you must be a part of that swordsman's crew. The one that beat up all the lowly employees stationed here," the blonde woman with the umbrella smiled.

"Why would you wanna protect the princess of Alabasta?" the booger-man asked.

"I have my reasons," you glared.

"Well one way or another we're gonna have to eliminate you. You're in our way."

"Aww, what a shame!" the blonde woman laughed.

Booger-man stuck his finger up his nose, and you got yourself ready for another attack, until Luffy and Zoro suddenly burst through a house, fighting.

Your eyes went wide.

"Huh?! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU IDIOTS DOING?!" you shouted, angry.

"ZORO BEAT UP THE NICE TOWNSPEOPLE THAT GAVE US FOOD!" Luffy shouted, sending the swordsman flying into another building.

'My captain cannot be this stupid.'

"LUFFY, YOU DUMBASS, THEY'RE THE BAD GUYS! THEY TRIED TO KILL US!" you scolded.

But he ignored you, and instead got sent flying into the blonde woman and the booger man, knocking them into another house.

After about five more minutes of the two knocking the sense out of each other, and the bad guys, you had had enough.

"WILL YOU TWO IDIOTS QUIT IT!" you shouted, flying over and slamming the two of their heads together, stopping their fight.

"You people... are insane," the princess gaped.

"What the hell is wrong with you two?! You're lucky you guys kept her safe during your shenanigans, otherwise I could've lost out on some VERY important information!"

"Huh? Information?" the princess asked, confused.

"In exchange for delivering you home safely, you're gonna bring me to your dad where we can discuss some things," you stated.

"I... uh... umm—" "Deal? Deal," you smiled, interrupting her.

"(y/n), that hurt," Luffy sniffled, clutching his head.

"You're lucky I didn't hit you two harder!"

"Tch... Crazy woman," Zoro huffed, nursing his new welt.

#one piece x reader #one piece #op x reader #op #roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa #rosinante x reader #zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #zorosangell #zorosangell--protector

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britcision · 2 years ago

Text

Hey guys

I have present for you

Not sure if there will be a WIP Wednesday this week since I’m con crunching and we leave on Thursday, soooo… this will tide you over I’m sure! The completed chapter 15!

Previous Chapter:

First chapter and AO3 link:

————-

I’ll Take The Highway

Time was almost slipping away too quickly in the milkshake bar, and Danny wished he didn’t have to keep an eye on it.

(Well. Seriously hoped. Even in the privacy of his head, he couldn’t make it a wish.)

He had to get Tucker back to MIT though, and back to Gotham in a reasonable time frame to get to bed before class tomorrow.

If he got to bed before midnight, there might be a chance for he and Jason to run to the Far Frozen in the morning. Or after, Danny’s classes didn’t run late. Or…

He was missing out on the fun today, trying to plan tomorrow. Much as Jazz would love him being more organised, he pushed it to the back of his mind.

They’d visit Frostbite soon. And find out how Jason’s core was, though Danny was beginning to think he knew. Here, when Jason was happy and relaxed? Not tensed, shut down, or angry?

Danny could definitely feel something he hadn’t before. Not exactly the same as another ghost, or any of the other halfas, not yet.

But it was almost like Box Lunch’s fresh core seen through a house of mirrors.

Maybe that was what had him so close to the edge today? It was taking some pretty serious effort not to react to even the mention of an old threat to Jason.

Jason, the sweet baby ghost.

And if his smile was a little sappy at that thought, well, that was no one’s business but his own. At least he had something to sit on for when his rogues started embarrassing baby stories.

Finally he couldn’t put it off anymore. Too much to do, friends to fly across country, and he still hadn’t found a good way to ask Waylon his question. He just… well.

He’d given Jason all the server info, the stuff about who his rogues were, how he beat them, the things they’d learned about the Infinite Realms. They’d even shared some stories around different bits.

That didn’t exactly explain what he wanted to ask Waylon about. And it really wasn’t something he was comfortable sharing just yet, even if he already knew it was dumb.

Jason was a good guy. Who hung out with Batman, who was apparently an asshole. He wouldn’t judge Danny for having some dark and fucked up stories in all the zany ones.

Fuck, maybe Waylon could tell him how Jason would react. It was gonna come up, it’d have to, and Danny really would feel better having someone else’s opinion.

He was reluctant to interrupt their good time, another story devolving into laughter, but it was getting into the afternoon and… well, he also had no idea how long this would take.

“Hey, uh, by the way. I’ve gotta head out in a bit, dropping Tuck back off in Massachusetts, I just wanted to talk to Waylon for a minute first? In private?” Because if Danny had learned one thing?

Direct worked best.

It worked now, Harley nodding along and hopping up, cartwheeling her way along the table and out of the booth.

“Say no more, Danno! C’mon, Jayjay, I wanted ta catch up with you on somethin’ too, so this works perfectly!” She declared cheerfully, giving Jason a fond tug to his fluffy white streak of hair.

Jason shot Danny a look that was half commiserating, half curious as he slid out of the both after her, but Danny was too busy staring into an imagined hellscape where Harley met Jack Fenton.

Fuck Dan, the world couldn’t handle that.

By the time he came back to himself, he and Waylon were alone in the booth, the big man watching him curiously.

“So, what’s on yer mind, kid?” He asked in a low voice, folding his arms on the edge of the table and leaning in.

Secret villain hideaway or not, this wasn’t something Danny wanted just anyone overhearing, so he beckoned Waylon closer to his end of the booth first, tucked into the wall.

The big guy slid his way surprisingly delicately down the seat, then leaned in again, watching Danny expectantly.

Which was when Danny realised he shoulda probably thought about a good way to put this.

Blunt it was gonna have to be.

“So… you… Harley said people called you Killer Croc before you ever hurt anyone?” He said in a rush, flinching at how bad it actually sounded said aloud.

Waylon… did not have eyebrows to raise, and it was really fucking weird that he was noticing that now, but it was definitely what he’d been doing, and Danny was distracting himself again.

“They did,” Waylon agreed a moment later, his voice low and even. Guard up, but not defensive. Not closing the topic off.

Danny huffed out a sigh, and found he couldn’t quite meet the man’s eyes. Found himself intently examining the diamond pattern on the formica tables. His own hands, twisting in front of him over that pattern.

“You… you became what they said you were. A monster.” The words caught in his throat, hard to spit out and shit he thought he was past this.

It had been years.

A scaled green hand covered his, and Danny found himself surprised by how smooth the scales were. Far from soft, but not rough. Almost smoother than the table.

“Who called you a monster, kid?” Waylon asked softly, his voice gruff with something too close to understanding.

Danny’s head snapped up and he shook it quickly, sucking in a deep breath.

“Oh, no one. Not for like, a really long time now. And they said sorry and everything, it’s not that. It’s… you gave into it. Let them make you something wrong and dangerous, and you stopped. How did you stop?” He asked quietly, finally finding it easier to look at Waylon’s face.

He looked surprised.

Finding Jason had been harder than usual. He’d never turned his phone back on after last night, and Bruce was still wrestling with one of his least favourite (and most common) side effect of a concussion; light sensitive headaches.

Even with the screen brightness all the way down, it was hard to even look at the batcomputer while he waited for Constantine to arrive.

None of his usual tricks were helping, spikes of pain jabbing behind his eyes every time he tried to scan the cameras for Jason’s presence.

It was Babs who found him in the end, taking her lunch at the library late to help him out. She had whole programs to scan the security cameras of Gotham for her, trained to recognise any bat or rogue from any angle.

False positives happened, but usually didn’t take more than a look to confirm or deny. They were extremely accurate.

Bruce would know.

He had copies of the same programs.

They just weren’t running properly.

He was probably still tired. He’d been pushing himself while injured, as usual, and as usual Alfred would be eager to tell him he’d been overtaxing himself too hard to work efficiently.

And then Constantine was late.

By the time the magician arrived, Bruce was regretting having taken a break to sleep at all. He should have sorted this out last night, before ever calling Jason.

They could have picked a time to meet, and while Bruce was fully aware Jason might have just told him to fuck off, he might not have. Especially if Bruce had promised to leave him alone.

He knew better than to ask Jason to introduce Danny to Constantine.

Barbara had generously kept an eye on Jason in the interim, and by the time Batman and Constantine were ready to go he seemed to have settled in Freeze’s place.

The Frozen Fields. Named for his wife, who Bruce’s top scientists still wouldn’t be able to save.

Along with Harley, Waylon Jones, and Danny.

Of course he was with Danny.

Half the city seemed to be intent on frustrating him today. They’d taken the Batmobile, and while he tended to only drive it in emergencies (and after dark), it still barely sped the journey through the city traffic.

It always felt wrong, sitting and waiting with the rest of the cars in the Batmobile. Didn’t match the “lurking justice in the shadows”. Which Constantine was quick to remind him.

Bruce just gripped the steering wheel tighter, sucked in a deep breath, and nearly bit his tongue when they finally edged up to an intersection only for the light to turn red.

Waylon sat back in his seat, back scraping against the wall of the booth as he surveyed the kid in front of him.

Little squirt was tougher ‘n he looked, that much was definitely true. Harley had given him the short run down on their way to the milkshake bar, all the powers she knew he had.

And that he’d been hunted by his folks for a while. Waylon knew how that kinda shit could mess ya up.

He appreciated the heads up too, cuz this kinda shit coming up outta nowhere? Also pretty damn rough. He’d wondered if the kid just wanted to come along for another fight.

If he just wanted another chance to say he’d looked Killer Croc in the eye.

But there was no real bravado there, not even when he challenged Waylon to a rematch. Shit, the kid treated him more normal than most of his henchmen had ever managed to.

Made sense, knowing he was part a ghost an’ fought ghost rogues, but it left Waylon wondering. Apparently he was getting his answer.

Same damn question he’d asked himself a thousand times, ‘specially around the kind of young vigilantes who’d taken a turn to the bad.

Didn’t mean he had a good answer.

He regarded the kid for a long minute, watching the fidgeting, the sudden shyness from a boy who’d literally tackled him from behind on a whim.

This wasn’t just an idle question. Something made him sure of that, and he’d never been involved in all that much of the really weird shit. You heard stories, especially in Arkham.

So he decided to give the kid the best answer he had.

“Cuz I was the worst version of myself. I let myself be the monster they thought I was, got pretty good at it. But it never made me happy.” He paused, mulling it over.

Chuckled softly and looked down into his half drunk milkshake. It was kinda funny how obvious it seemed, in hindsight.

“Shit, there was never even anythin’ I wanted. Not like Penguin, Freeze, or the others. People treated me like a monster so I tried to be one, cuz why the hell not? Couldn’t be worse, could it?”

His gaze shifted back to Danny’s face, watching the kid’s expression. No judgement, which was nice. But he did look confused.

“So you just… got sick of it?” Danny asked, his brows furrowed as he played with his fingers.

Waylon chuckled and shook his head.

“Kinda. Spent a while thinkin’ if people couldn’t treat me with respect, fear’d do. But it ain’t the same. An’ I never had the drive or creative cruelty to stand out in Gotham.”

Danny looked a little incredulous at that, eyebrows rising, but he caught himself before commenting. Snickered and shook his head.

“Yeah, I guess being in a city that’s used to people like Scarecrow and the Joker puts “big and green” into perspective,” he agreed dryly, and Waylon laughed.

It felt good to laugh.

“Oh yeah. City’s got more than its share of low level thugs anyway. I spent a while as extra muscle for the big boys, but I ain’t the takin’ orders sort,” he explained with a modest shrug.

Danny grinned, folding his arms on the table and leaning forward.

“What, a shy and retiring guy like you?” He asked, clearly teasing, and Waylon waved a hand dismissively.

“I’m lucky it was Gotham,” he added after a moment, reflection sobering his mood. “Got sent t’ Arkham. Met Harley. An’ the Bat’s not all that bad. He tried gettin’ me outta the life a couple times.”

Danny cocked his head, a slight frown returning to his face. Following Waylon’s lead.

“How did Batman try and get you out?” There was a little too much intensity for it to be a casual question, and Waylon noted it. Not that he’d figure it out on his own.

Just tryin’ to make sure he didn’t damage the kid.

“Oh, there were a couple ways. Got me moved down to Florida once. Out in the green, away from people. I figured bein’ a wild animal might be more my speed, but it wasn’t. An’ it got messy when I left. Like that whatever he tried, really. There’s lines you can’t uncross.”

Lines like being a cannibal.

Not that he was sobbin’ on a preacher’s shoulder about it. Most of the people he’d eaten were assholes who’d deserved it, and it’d been a preference, not a need.

For all people loved to go on about him eatin’ kids and babies, he’d never actually done it. A guy had to have standards.

Made it easy to stop, once he was in a better head space. He and Harley had talked a lotta old shit out.

Kid didn’t need to know those grisly details though, at least not from his own mouth. Watching Danny a moment longer, Waylon came to a decision.

“Look, kid. There’s a lotta reasons people go bad. Some of ‘em can’t be helped. But if they’re not gettin’ anything out of it, if there’s no goal? The appeal runs out. And sometimes all it takes is someone willin’ to reach down an’ haul yer back up to the light.”

He wouldn’t ask if that was the case with whoever the kid wanted to help. Everyone heard stories, ‘specially about heroes meeting their evil selves.

The fear looked personal, but the asking coulda been for anyone. Waylon was in no rush to judge.

Danny mulled over his words for a while, lips moving soundlessly as he frowned down at the table. This time when he looked up, there was a peace in his eyes.

He’d come to a decision. Good for him.

“Thanks, Waylon. You seem like a pretty great guy to me,” he said simply, and Waylon definitely did not feel a lump in his throat.

“This is after years o’ Harley workin’ on me,” he grumbled gruffly. Shaking his head, he slurped down the last of his milkshake quickly.

Nothing like brain freeze to explain being a little misty eyed.

Jason didn’t exactly object to being led out of the bar by Harley; Danny wanted to talk to Waylon in private.

Jason had figured Danny had something to ask the guy about. He hadn’t exactly expected not to be part of the conversation, but that was fine.

He’d know if Danny got into trouble. Fuck, Danny could handle any trouble Gotham could dish out, probably. And the rogues had some basic manners; not starting shit in Freeze’s place was one of them.

Penguin might put the squeeze on and make your life uncomfortable if you lit up the Iceberg Lounge. Dr Freeze’s cold shoulder was a lot more literal, and he didn’t do “proportional response”.

So yeah, he could be cool and give Danny some space.

It wasn’t exactly a surprise that Harley wanted to talk to him either, although he still didn’t see the point. But he let her guide him around the side of the building to a back alley anyway.

“Still fine, Harley,” he said before she could get started, both hands raised in front of him.

She gave him an all too knowing look and hopped up to sit on the dumpster. Put her about a head taller than him. Not that he cared.

“Sure, kid. You’ve been goin’ through a lot though, so I gotta ask; is there anythin’ ya wanna talk to Auntie Harley about?” She asked in her sweetest voice, interlacing her fingers under her chin and batting her lashes.

Jason snickered and leaned against the other side of the alley.

Shit, he wasn’t even annoyed with her play acting. The pit was a happy little puddle in his chest, all sunshine and roses.

A week ago he’d have walked away. Been pissed at wasting his time, getting in his way. How much of that had been because of the Lazarus pits, the problems with the ectoplasm he’d apparently been supposed to be solving?

Was that why nothing had ever been enough? Why he always had to keep pushing? Carve himself a patch of Gotham, keep going. Cut the crime out of Crime Alley, not enough.

Take up with the Outsiders, keep himself busy, rushed off his feet so that when he fell into bed for a couple hours a day he didn’t even dream?

When was the last time he’d taken a breath and just… relaxed? It all felt so long ago, but it had barely been a week.

It just. His whole life had unclenched, like it was a muscle he’d finally stopped using.

Fuck, maybe he should talk to Harley about it.

He got the feeling she knew though, those eagle eyes tracking his every move. They’d never really hung out, but he was uncomfortably aware of how well she’d known him.

How much of him was still the boy she’d known?

She was waiting for an answer, and all of a sudden Jason wasn’t sure what he’d say. Knew that if anyone in the world understood, it just might be Dr Harleen Quinzel.

He sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck, unable to meet her eyes. Fuck, he was getting as bad as Bruce.

And if that thought didn’t kick him up the ass…

“You ever wake up one day and realise your whole life’s been going wrong?” He finally asked, glancing up from the corner of his eye.

She’d dropped the cutesy act, leaning forward with her arms braced on the edge of the dumpster, her face professionally calm. Open. Sympathetic.

“Think I might know just a lil about what that’s like,” she agreed softly, and Jason snorted.

“Yeah. Well. Turns out ever since I came back from the dead I’ve been haunted. Literally. And no one ever noticed.”

He hadn’t even come all the way back, but he couldn’t say that. Not yet. But maybe he could share some of the rest.

Harley nodded slowly, giving him her full attention. Just waiting for him to go on.

It kinda felt like being under a microscope, but not in the cold, analytical way Bruce did that always pissed him off. Like she really cared, and was looking for all his broken parts so she could help him fit them back together.

Fuck, if his kid self had ever known he’d one day trust Harley Quinn over the whole Justice League…

Shit, he didn’t even know how much she already knew.

“The pit rage… it’s a psychosis people get, coming out of the Lazarus pit. Makes you angry, violent, stronger, like a blind rage. For most people it goes away. Mine didn’t.”

He almost wanted to laugh, bitter and sharp.

“Because it wasn’t just the psychosis. I’m not fucking weak, I’m not fucking broken, there’s something else living inside me and it made me so fucking angry all the time…”

The frustration was building again, but this time it was his. All his, not a bubble, not a stir, and part of Jason thrilled with it. He could feel however he wanted, just him.

He cut it off though, forcing himself to relax before Danny could notice. Could worry about whatever he was projecting in his aura.

He could kinda still feel Danny’s, which was new. Not brushing against his, not touching like they were close, but he was aware in a way he hadn’t been before.

Like if he shut his eyes he could point in exactly the direction Danny was standing.

“Danny’s the only one who noticed. Well, really, he’s the only one who could. It’s a ghost thing, and he… he got me help. I feel like myself for the first time since… since I came back.”

He hadn’t even noticed how much the background rage burnt through him until it stopped. Until he could look at his family and see their prodding for what it was; concern.

It was still surprising him, and maybe would for a while. Kinda hoped not though. It wasn’t the most cheerful train of thought.

Seeing that he’d run out of words, Harley gave him a moment to find more, then reached over and ruffled his hair. It was barely a strain in the cramped alley.

“Kid, anyone with two eyeballs t’ rub together can see Danny’s real good for ya. So why’s Bruce tryin’ so hard to keep ya apart?” She asked gently, and Jason snorted.

Rolled his eyes and folded his arms, caught himself doing it, and forced them back to his sides.

“Not rubbing his eyeballs together?” He asked dryly. Harley just snickered.

“Please, if we could get ‘im ta stop overanalysing everything that’d be the miracle. So what’s got ‘im on edge?”

Jason hesitated for a long moment, thinking about it. Finally he shrugged; as always, Bruce was a mystery to him. The man who’d taught him all the tricks to pick apart any mystery. Except himself.

“No idea. We played a prank on him and the Mansons at the gala like we told you last night?” He offered, already aware it wasn’t likely to be the answer.

Harley shook her head in agreement, which almost threw him off.

“Nah, you’re right. The whole making-out-in-a-closet shtick is classic, even if he didn’t see through it yet he’s never cared about you boys smoochin’ before,” she agreed, then sighed and tugged him in to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Whatever his problem is though, it is his problem Jason, an’ what he pulled at the gala has nothin’ t’ do with you or Danny. I already told ‘im off about not talkin’ to ya and I’m gonna do it again when I catch him. Right now I just wanna hear you say you know it ain’t your fault,” she told him firmly, cheeks held between both hands.

Jason fought the urge to roll his eyes. And the rising lump in his throat.

“I know Bruce’s bullshit isn’t my fault, Harley,” he grumbled through smushed lips. Harley squeezed his cheeks a little tighter.

“Then say it anyway. It ain’t your fault Brucie has a bug in his ass, and ya ain’t done anything wrong to deserve it.” She was firm as the wall behind him, utterly unrelenting.

And she could go on for hours, if memory served. Long enough for Danny to come out and see. That was why Jason told himself he gave in.

Nothing at all to do with the way her words ached and bled a gentle warmth into the icy void in his gut where the anger still roiled.

“It’s not my fault B’s got the emotional capacity of a wet newspaper. I don’t deserve his helicopter bullshit any more than anyone else,” he told her obediently, doing his best not to be too sarcastic.

Harley placed a kiss on his nose and released him.

“That’s my good boy. Now, more about this haunted thing. You boys got a plan?” She asked sharply, head cocked as she watched his face.

Cheeks red, Jason leaned back against his wall and pretended it made him out of reach.

“We do,” he said curtly, looking down at the trash strewn ground. Trying to explain it now would take too long, Danny would be out soon.

Of course Harley noticed, nodding thoughtfully and leaning back, kicking her legs.

“Well, if ya ever want to tell me more, you’ve got my number. An’ I’ll get Brucie off ya back for a while, even if I’ve gotta call in the Boy Scout. Whatever you aren’t tellin’ ‘im, don’t let ‘im rush ya,” she told him firmly. Jason had to smile.

“Aren’t you the one always telling us to communicate?” He asked half rhetorically. Harley grinned and hopped off her dumpster, making her way to the front of the alley.

“It only works if ya wait til you’re ready. Pushin’ an’ rushin’ only makes it worse,” she explained airily, stepping out into the street.

Turning, and freezing like a hound on a scent. Eyes narrowed, she patted Jason on the chest as he stepped out after her, not turning her head.

“Jason darlin’, be a dear an’ run get Auntie Harley her bat. The bike’s parked ‘round the back,” she said ever so sweetly, and that tone combined with the narrow eyed glare meant Jason knew exactly who she was looking at before he turned.

He did it anyway, eyes widening as he caught sight of Batman, in full gear, coming down the street towards them. Accompanied by John Fucking Constantine.

Had he seriously come to chase him away from Danny in person? In fucking costume?

The anger surged, his and the pit’s, held back only by the small woman in front of him. The dainty hand on her chest, that’d turn into an iron bar if he pushed it.

Sure, she couldn’t actually hold him back, but she didn’t need to. Whatever Jason wanted to say or do to Bruce, Harley could do a whole lot worse.

Anger melding into a vicious satisfaction, he turned straight back down the alley with a spring in his step.

Bruce was a little relieved to arrive outside the bar and see Jason already there. Batman walking in wouldn’t have been out of the question, but he’d rather avoid the theatrics.

Danny not being in sight didn’t come into the decision one bit.

But then Harley said something to Jason and he turned away, leaving immediately. Bruce sped up, planning to follow Jason down the alley-

“Hold ya horses, Batsy,” Harley snapped, stepping directly into his path. He could have gone around her, certainly, but he stopped.

If there was even a chance he could get her on side, that would help immensely.

“I just need to talk to Jason,” he said in Batman’s low growl. Constantine had stopped too, well back of whatever was going to happen.

At least he wasn’t a complete fool.

Harley folded her arms, giving him her very least impressed look.

“An’ if the words you’re sayin’ ain’t “I’m so sorry please forgive me I’ll never do it again”, ya don’t actually need to. Ya need ta speak to me.”

Bruce almost frowned at her words. Why now? They’d spoken before, but she’d seemed satisfied. What had changed between now and their last conversation?

Batman’s face remained impassive as ever.

“Harley. It’s important.”

“He wants me to give the kid a magic checkup,” Constantine put in from behind him, still well back. He waved at Harley when she glanced his way.

Harley’s eyes narrowed for a moment and then Jason was jogging back down the alley, holding her bat.

What the hell had changed since their last conversation?

Pinning Constantine with a piercing glare, she held it for a minute before turning her attention back to Bruce. Snapping her fingers in front of his mask before he could even open his mouth.

“Uh uh! Johnny needs ta talk to him fer that, not you. YOU need to come talk ta me. Now.” She held out her other hand without looking, and Jason slipped the bat into it.

Had he really upset Jason that much at the gala? He’d thought he understood about the public apology, but this felt… well, worse than he’d expected.

More urgent. More vehement. She was more angry than she had been.

He’d gone wrong again, some time between now and then, and he had a Justice League meeting in an hour. Less, counting in the travel time back to the nearest zeta terminal.

Did he have time for this?

Jason was glaring at him, flat and unfriendly, but with a decided undercurrent of anticipation. Bruce’s presence would only make Constantine’s job harder.

Ignoring the part of him that thought the magician deserved to have it a lot harder, he nodded and refocused his attention on Harley.

“Fine. Here?” Better to get this over with. He could put aside all of his personal thoughts and feelings for the meeting, but at least he’d have answers.

Harley gave the surrounding street another sharp look, then shook her head, crooked her fingers, and led him into the alleyway.

“We’ll go ‘round the back. You’re bad for business,” she told him archly, and Bruce followed without a word.

He didn’t tell Jason to stay and speak to Constantine; he was self aware enough to know that would have the opposite effect. The magician would just have to sort himself out.

Part of him almost hoped she would actually use the bat this time. It served its purpose as a visual symbol, but everything made much more sense when people just wanted to beat him up.

Navigating their emotions and separate interior lives and expectations was… messy.

Constantine and Jason stared at each other for a long moment after Harley and the Bat disappeared down the alley.

Then Constantine sighed and nodded after them.

“If they’re goin’ round back, we can take this off the main street. If you don’t mind?” Not that the boy had much choice.

They’d caught him unmasked, which raised again the fuckin’ question of why Batt-o was so intent on being masked up for this one.

Maybe he just didn’t want to change. It looked like a lot of kohl on under that mask. Probably took a while to switch in and out.

Jason narrowed his eyes back for a moment, then shrugged. His whole posture still screamed annoyance and aggression, but moved back into the side alley anyway.

“Whatever. Not too far though. I need to hear if my friends leave.” There was something about the agreement that didn’t quite sit right for John.

Too easy. He didn’t have much (any) experience with the kid, never having willingly gotten near a revenant, but… well, this? This was weirdly passive.

When he’d seen the kid coming back with a weapon, that had made sense. He’d half expected Jason to take a swing personally; the dead-or-dead-aligned tended to have a different understanding of acceptable violence.

Handing it off to Harley was basically trading a gun for a nuke, but he didn’t seem at all upset that it hadn’t been used. Hadn’t gone for Batman’s throat, no matter how much Harley seemed to think he’d be justified.

What the hell did the Bat do now?

Something was off with Jason, something that made Constantine almost rethink his earlier guess.

Kid dies, shows back up a couple years later in a storm of blood and violence, demanding revenge? Yeah, that was classic revenant. Physical body, jacked beyond anything the kid shoulda grown into? Ditto.

Even the rage the Leaguers reported checked the boxes, but a revenant shouldn’t be this calm. Not in the face of any kind of threat.

Good news, really; he probably wouldn’t go for Constantine’s throat. John was more than happy with that, though he did regret getting the Bat all worked up.

Not that there was another version of the story Batman might take better, mind. Whatever the hell Jason Todd was, the kid wasn’t human anymore, and for ol’ Batsy the rest of the details didn’t much matter.

They got out of sight of the main thoroughfare, Jason leaning back against a wall with his arms folded and a smirk on his face that was just all challenge.

Constantine didn’t rise to it, brows furrowing as he raised a hand and murmured the beginnings of a spell.

Felt it instantly crash around him, smacked down by a power so titanic he’d have fallen if the side of a dumpster hadn’t caught him. A power so old, so wrought with death, so fucking familiar that it blacked out every sense.

No way in fucking hell any kind of fucking revenant, wraith, zombie, ghost, anything could leave that taste in his mouth. No, that? That was a personal signature.

And not something that could be done lightly either. A power like that… no, this power, Constantine knew exactly whose it was.

This kind of power, reacting this strongly? This instantly, even here on Earth? That was the full force of the Infinite Realms, which had to mean…

Eyes wide and shaken, John scrabbled at the lid for support, staring at Jason. Who actually looked more than a little surprised himself.

It took him a moment to find the words, longer to steady the shake in his voice.

“You… you… holy fucking hells, Jason, do you have any idea what you’ve done? You’ve bound your fuckin’ soul to-”

“The same guy you sold yours to?” Jason drawled, raising an eyebrow.

And alright, fair, that was a pretty good fuckin’ point, but Constantine was well aware he was a dire warning, not a good example.

Damn hard to argue that to a smugly reclining something-or-other that had bound himself so tightly to that same king that John couldn’t even do a gentle magical probe.

He’d been planning on being polite and everything. Noninvasive, Jason wouldn’t even feel it.

Shit, had he felt the spell shut down too? Constantine was about to ask, but Jason wasn’t done talking. Or smirking, looking distinctly amused that he’d shut the mouthy magician up.

“Did you know he owns your soul eleven times by now? That seems a little low to me, surely you’re down to hocking scraps,” Jason noted with a dry chuckle.

Constantine shrugged defensively, well aware that his battered soul was nothing to write home about. Still mostly trying to work out what the fuck was going on.

What use would the Ghost King have for a bat? A use important enough to fold Jason, who’d only be risen six years, into the high court?

Sure, the kid was good, he’d proved that in Gotham’s underworld, but to the Realms? He was barely an infant, and cuttin’ off heads would not impress there.

“No one buys just a piece of a soul. Every deal’s for the whole thing, which is why they keep me alive rather’n letting me kick it and tearin’ up the bits,” he explained distractedly, giving Jason another slow once over.

The good news was, nothing about the guy smelled like a revenant. There was power there, sure, a hint of a magical signature just on the borders of recognizable, but he couldn’t quite pin it down.

Jason hummed in acknowledgement, or maybe interest, but Constantine needed him to keep talking. Needed more clues to work out what the fuck this guy was.

“Pretty sure I haven’t had anyone make the same deal eleven times though,” he commented cautiously, trying to appear as casual as Jason while watching him closely, wishing he’d accepted some bat-training, “most people only make that mistake once.”

“Yeah, I asked about that,” Jason agreed with a dry chuckle, and the bottom fell out of Constantine’s stomach.

A position that let him backtalk the king of the Infinite Realms? Triple not good, not least because that lot were volatile and fuckin’ possessive, but not more so than goddamn Batman.

“Apparently people handed you over for some kind of tax season. You’re a low value trading card over there at this point.”

And that knocked every other thought out of Constantine’s head as he straightened, unreasonably affronted.

It’d be fucking nice to be low value. People might ignore him.

And since when did the Infinite Realms collect taxes?

“Low value? Princes of Hell are fightin’ over my damn soul, it’s the only thing keeping me kickin’,” he protested, and Jason snickered.

Gave John a smug, superior smile.

“And ten entities gave your soul up for tax breaks. Let’s face it, it’s not like you have rarity on your side,” he pointed out smugly.

“It’s still only one soul,” Constantine pouted idly, his mind suddenly spinning mile a minute with the implications.

The kid couldn’t have had this much presence last night, whatever else was true. John would have noticed.

It might just have been now that he knew to look for it, but Jason practically glowed with the essence of the Realms. He’d also somehow not just gotten himself bound to the Ghost King, he had a position where he could question them.

And have his questions answered, if not hugely coherently. Maybe that was just the translation through Jason, though.

That could be a good thing. A good sign at least, for the temperament of the new king. Pariah Dark never listened to questions by all accounts; people never got the opportunity to ask. He just conquered.

Of course, John knew enough magical entities to know that “willing to talk” did not mean, friendly, helpful, safe, or even “not prone to constant and complex lies”.

Thing was, he could handle liars. Tricksters. Anything of the sort, usually, cuz if nothing else? Being willing to talk before shooting meant Constantine had a chance to confuse them.

He was bloody good at that, all else notwithstanding. Almost his most useful talent.

It might be worth trying to find a little more about the Ghost King. Doubly if Jason was willing to help, but that’d have to be careful. No way to know what the kid had accidentally sworn to on that soul bond.

Hell, how was he gonna work out what the kid even was with magic off the table? It’d be back to the fuckin’ books and Undead 101.

At least he was still in his own body. That put a limit on the possibilities, but there were still a lot of options. Bats was going to be unbearable.

Because worse yet… the one thing John did know, with absolute certainty, was that the kid was getting stronger. If he hadn’t manifested any powers yet, it was just a matter of time.

Whatever Jason was, whatever deal he’d managed to pull, the damn halfa wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg. Something was feeding the power in him, whatever had yanked him back to the land of the living to start with.

Plus side? Batty could get off his ass about the kids hanging out. Jason had already taken a fuckin’ jet across whatever influence hanging out with a ghost could do, and pushed right the way to the other side.

He might as well be fuckin’ drinking ectoplasm at this point. Kid could carry Danny around on his back and not make a lick of difference.

Course, if it was the halfa who got the kid to make his deal… well, Batman would have another reason to worry about them hangin’ out together, but the damage was already done.

It wasn’t a soul buy, not to John’s experienced eye. Not a leash around the kid’s neck, not a claim stamped into his being. If anything, this was worse.

Somehow Jason had gotten himself so tightly wrapped to the Ghost King that the other’s power all but flowed in his veins. Even from here, far from the Realms, Constantine didn’t even finish the spell before it was smacked down.

That… that was new. Nothing he’d ever seen before, and he was well used to possessive metaphysical assholes who didn’t like anyone else touchin’ their shit.

Fuck, did Jason even know?

Constantine sucked in a breath and gave damn near instantly on even trying to form a tactful question a bat would understand. Kid was playing in his kiddy pool now, like it or not, and John had to know how deep he’d gone.

“So what deal did you make?” He asked bluntly. Not that Jason apparently minded in the least, still smirking as he gave the magician a cool once over.

“Y’know, I’m pretty sure it’s rude to ask. Not discussing paychecks and all that,” he drawled casually, eyes still dark with that barely covered aggression.

Constantine rolled his eyes.

“I had three princes of Hell gettin’ a little too cozy and a cursed rock lookin’ to turn the world to pink tourmaline. The Ghost King was big enough to shut ‘em up and let me push the rock to a different dimension where it’s never gonna be our problem again. Now quit bein’ an ass, I know a lot more about this kinda shit and I can tell ya if they hid any clauses.”

That did shut Jason up, the kid’s eyes widening for a moment like he hadn’t expected Constantine to share.

Tough titties for him, John already knew Batman was gonna be a bitch about this so doing the due diligence early? Pretty much their only hope.

He considered it longer than John thought was justified, since it was inarguable. John Constantine, soul selling expert. He should have business cards made.

Finally the kid shrugged. He still looked prickly, defensive, but he was listening.

“Well I didn’t sell him my fucking soul.” Which.

John stared at him, mouth agape. Snapped shut and narrowed his eyes.

“Kid, you could not be more marked if you wore a neon sign. You signed something over, the Ghost King ain’t the sort to give prizes for free.”

A Ghost King Jason seemed to think was a he, so that was a useful little piece of intel. He’d definitely know better than John if they were already on ask-questions stage.

Jason scowled and shrugged, arms still crossed.

“Lucky me. Protection from big scary human wizards, for the low low price of my service. And some help with my Lazarus problem,” he added, as if the last was the only part he though worth mentioning.

Constantine sagged back against the wall, sinking down to sit on the alley floor. Bracing his elbows on his knees he ran both hands through his hair, holding his head up.

“Great… just fucking great,” he muttered, voice muffled by his new position. Part of him wanted to laugh, but he was pretty sure it’d come out a sob.

Hysteria beckoned.

Jason made another noise that might almost have been concern, and Constantine forced himself to suck in a breath. To keep it together.

Forced his head up so he could glare at the kid who now looked just way too confused.

“You get that that’s worse, right?” He snapped, eyes narrowing. “You get that selling yourself into service is fucking worse?”

Jason glared back down at him, drawing himself up like size and muscle was gonna impress a magician.

(It might have if Jason was a decade or two older, but not the way the kid intended.)

“What the fuck d’you think will happen when he takes your soul?” He snapped back, aggression rising fast enough that Constantine forced himself to stop again.

Deep breath in. Hold. Out.

One more in. Hold. Out.

He got to ten, the kid watching him with visible confusion, deflating the longer John went without pushing back. Yippee for him.

When he thought he had his voice under control again, John forced himself to his feet.

“I sell my soul, and if anyone ever actually claims the damn thing they can do whatever they want to it for eternity. It’ll fuckin’ suck, kid, but the one thing they can’t do, no matter who it is?”

He just sounded tired now, which only wrong footed Jason even more. Why had he even gotten out of bed at all?

Maybe if he left now he could just go back. Tuck himself up in the House of Mystery, feed his League communicator to something pandimensional, and just hide for a while.

The Bat would probably come after him.

Taking another bolstering breath, John did his best to sound calm. Not patronising. Because the kid damn near definitely had no idea.

Which was why people should leave magic to the fuckin’ professionals.

Catching Jason’s eye, he held it, hoping to impress the seriousness of what he was about to say into the kid’s soul.

“They cannot compel me to action. They can try all sorts of force, all sorts of fucked up shit, but I get the last say. They say jump, I say fuck off, no jump. But selling service?”

Jason’s eyes had widened now, and John could just see all those little wheels turning. Well, set the little fuckers spinnin’ faster.

“They say jump, you’re on the way up before you can ask “how high?”. I dunno what you think you signed up for, kid, I dunno what deals with the new king are like cuz I didn’t fuckin’ ask. But you get a copy of the damn contract and bring it back to me. I’ll see if there’s anything we can do about it.”

It was the only logical option, especially with an entity this powerful. Constantine was betting the kid’s hatred of being used, being controlled, would make him agree even if he hated it.

He probably could have been nicer, though.

Jason’s eyes flashed, actually flashed a bright, ecto green as he shot John a glare that promised bloody dismemberment.

There was something else too, something that definitely wasn’t there a second ago but filled the alley now. Something hot and angry and powerfully vicious, something that wanted his blood.

If there were space to back up, he would have. As it was, he let his hand slip behind his back, ready to teleport. He had no doubt that any kind of binding would meet exactly the same fate his inquiry had.

Even in civvies, Jason Todd cut a menacing figure as he stalked the two steps across the alley to put himself directly in Constantine’s face.

“For fuck’s sake, I am not a fucking child! I don’t need you to hold my hand, I don’t need your fucking help, and I don’t need your fucking permission to live my fucking life!”

Constantine actually leaned back, his head brushing the wall behind him as Jason shoved a finger into his face, his every muscle taut with barely restrained violence.

“Like you just fucking said, you don’t know shit! So maybe, just fucking once, the whole fucking lot of you sit the fuck down, shut the fuck up, and stay out of my fucking way!”

This close, Constantine could feel Jason’s hot breath on his face. This close… something clicked.

He could feel Jason’s anger, projecting out of him in a way that definitely wasn’t human. Choking and visceral and absolutely nothing like the pulsating bloody rage that forced itself down his throat.

There was something fucking else inside Jason. Something that tasted of the Infinite Realms and wanted his head on a stick.

Something that wasn’t the Ghost King. Didn’t carry the touch of his claim.

John was about to teleport away, fuck Batman and all of Gotham, when Jason turned around sharply and marched out of the alley. Almost like the kid was running.

Slumping back against the wall, John Constantine closed his eyes and breathed in the city smogs, only happy that none of it actively wanted his blood.

Harley let Batman precede her around the milkshake bar to the parking lot at the back, a quick glance confirming that they were alone.

For the best, really; anyone present might get entirely the wrong idea.

Taking a casual roll of the wrist for added momentum, Harley took a quick shot at the back of Batty’s knee, stepping up quickly beside him to use the return swing to catch him in the gut.

Caught off guard, he crumpled, landing on one knee and glaring up at her.

“Harley…” he growled, and her eyes narrowed.

She’d done this the nice way last night. He hadn’t listened, so now they were doing it his way.

“Batsy,” she shot back, cutting him off quick and direct. Tapped her bedazzled bat gently off her other hand. “We had us a talk already this week.”

No specific times; not in an unsecured location. He’d know anyway.

From his silence, he wasn’t quite ready to admit it. But he didn’t try to rise. Conflicted, then.

Like that was new.

Harley pressed the bat gently under his chin, tipping his head up to face her.

“And yet somehow, despite you assurin’ me you’d listened real close, a mister Jason Todd is out here tellin’ me you tried to ban him from hangin’ out with his new boyfriend?” She asked sugar-sweet, her expression all danger.

She could just about see the moment it sank into his head. Even with his actual eyes covered, that cowl was still plenty expressive.

Kinda freakishly expressive. Not ideal for the crime fighting to her mind, but what would she know? She much preferred committing the crimes.

He tried to argue, frown so deep he’d have wrinkles within the day.

“This has nothing to do with that, the Fenton boy is dangerous to his condition-”

Harley cut him off by poking the end of her bat almost into his mouth, her eyes narrowed. And sure, she was bein’ delicate with his head outta concern for that concussion, but there were limits.

“An’ what d’you think ya know about Jason’s condition that a half dead kid don’t?” She asked sceptically.

Batman hesitated. If he pushed the bat away, they’d have an actual fight on their hands. One he might let her win, if he just needed the tussle.

She’d never known a man so eager to have someone put him on his ass, and so incapable of ever lettin’ it actually happen. Well, other than Jason.

Musta run in the family.

Bruce sagged back, sat on the cracked asphalt of the parking lot.

“Constantine believes that Danny’s energy may strengthen something inside Jason. Something dangerous,” he explained, still in Batman’s rough growl.

She was gonna get him a vocoder. Just for shits and giggles.

Fuck, was that why Jason wore the whole helmet for Hoody? Now that she thought of it, there was a voice changer in there.

Two cranky little peas in matching muscly pods.

She dropped to sit cross legged on the ground across from him, bat laying in front of her. Talkin’ again, take two. Time to make it stick.

“Have you actually talked to Jason about this?” She asked sceptically.

The eye slits in the cowl narrowed. Harley was not impressed.

“Have you talked to him at all, since he an’ Danny have been hangin’ out?”

Bruce glared at her for a moment longer. Did not fold his arms or pout, but she could tell he wanted to.

“I spoke with him last night. He’s irrational, angry, unwilling to listen to reason…”

“He’s sick of ya tellin’ him you know what’s best and not listenin’ ta what’s wrong,” Harley corrected flatly.

Watched his shoulders sink just a little. As much as he could deflate in the suit. Even his growl lost most of its sandpaper.

“He said Danny was taking him to a doctor. More exposure to the realms could make things worse. Kill him, or give the pit another chance to take over. I can’t…” he cut himself off, voice tight and garbled around the forced gravel.

Harley watched him for a long moment.

He’d come out in the suit. It had to be for a reason.

She couldn’t ask the questions that would break him apart in the suit. Couldn’t guide him through the revelations and the grief. Not if there was somethin’ else he had ta be doing.

Another damn time then. She’d get ‘im here again.

“Batsy.” Her voice was gentler this time, and drew his face back to hers. She made sure to catch his eye. “He already died. Seems ta me somethin’ in there never really let him go.”

She didn’t know much about the Infinite Realms… or anything at all, really. All this magic and mayhem and ghosts was fun an’ all, and she always liked to play, but it wasn’t her wheelhouse.

Didn’t have ta be. She knew how to listen to the professionals.

Bruce had stiffened, the mask of Batman pulling back, and she cut him off with a raised hand.

“An’ you only have ta look at Danny ta know that whatever all that is? Jason ain’t the first. Won’t be the last. Someone’s gonna know what went wrong, and Jason believes they’re helping him. You need to believe Jason.”

“But he could be wrong.” It was barely more than a whisper. Low and grinding and completely devoid of Batman growl, like it’d been pulled right out of his soul.

Harley gave him a gentle bop on the head with her bat.

“Then we deal with that then. But all ya doin’ by bossin’ him around an’ not listenin’ is pissing him off and makin’ him more likely ta run right off to these Realms. He’s not the sweet kid followin’ ya shadow anymore, Batsy. He’s a man, and he gets to make choices. And mistakes.”

This sure as hell wasn’t one of ‘em, but Bruce had never been good at taking that on faith. He had to be shown, and he’d never stop waiting for the tables to turn.

Which was how he usually made things worse. But he did at least know that.

He still looked mutinous, scowling across at her, so she gave him a slightly harder bop on the shoulder.

“Batman, listen ta me. I know you mean well, but Danny makes him happy. All Jason’s seein’ right now is that he’s happy, an’ you wanna take it away.”

That hit harder than any of her blows, though she wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t known him so long. His whole body stiffened, sudden hesitation in even his breathing.

Harley stared him down through it, then nodded in satisfaction as his shoulders lowered, just a fraction.

“I can’t lose him again, Harley,” he whispered, barely audible even less than a foot away.

She gave him an even harder bop on the other shoulder.

“Then stop driving him away. You ain’t even said sorry for the other night yet an’ now you owe him another apology. There’s always that things might go wrong; he might get hit by a car crossing the street. The only sure thing is that if you keep treating him like this?”

She leaned forwards, grabbing his chin and forcing him to face her. To look at her, and see how serious she was.

He was reluctant to meet her eyes, but even under the white outs Harley knew when she had someone’s attention. Good. He probably knew what came next.

“You will lose him, Batsy. And it’ll be no one’s fault but your own.”

Danny couldn’t have missed Constantine making his way up the street blindfolded and with his ears plugged. It might have been the whole “owned his soul” thing.

It also might have been the vortex of swirling magical attention that followed him like a cloud. The guy clearly wasn’t trying to advertise his presence, but to something like Danny…

Well, trying to hide that hard always caught his attention. A magical “nothing to see here” tasted like liquorice in the back of his throat.

Maybe the trench coat was actually cursed, in more than just the unfortunate fashion sense.

Part of him wondered if this had anything to do with them. The rest, well aware what his luck was like, wondered if he’d come barging into the restaurant.

It wasn’t like he shouldn’t be getting ready to go anyway, but he just… well, he was having a surprising amount of fun just hanging out with Waylon.

The guy was old enough to be his dad, but he was a great listener. Really encouraging, and he’d told Danny another couple of stories too, some from his darker times but all with happy endings.

He was probably trying to make Danny feel better after their talk, and it was definitely working. It just… well, he didn’t even really like thinking about Dan.

He’d asked Nocturn to put him to sleep not long after becoming king, to give the guy something to do other than stew in a thermos and plot vengeance.

Part of him still kinda expected that to bite him in the ass, but even if Dan broke out of Nocturn’s dreams, he couldn’t break out of Soup Time. For whatever reason he’d never learned Danny’s portal trick.

All the people who kept souping Danny were dead in Dan’s timeline.

Danny had almost been ready to wrap things up with Waylon (as little as he wanted to; they’d already exchanged numbers) when he felt Jason’s rage bubble.

He didn’t realise he’d blanked out until Waylon tapped the table in front of him with a claw, concern on his scaly face.

“Somethin’ th’ matter, kid?” He asked in a low growl.

Danny shook his head, staring down at the mostly empty milkshake and chugging the rest.

“Probably nothing… just got a bad feeling about Jason,” he explained with a shrug.

Reached out just a little, extending his senses but not aura. If Jason was already mad, that might send him over the edge.

Just as he reached out a sudden flare of fury made his hand clench, the glass he was still grasping shattering. Great, he had a hand full of milkshake and shards.

Shaking both free, Danny shoved his way out of the booth at the same time as Waylon, the big man going from concerned to battle ready in an instant.

For the first time, he almost looked dangerous. Danny was glad to have him at his back for the visual component at least; anyone who didn’t think twice about pissing off a tank like Jason wouldn’t even blink at Danny.

Killer Croc though? He got that name on his looks alone, long before he earned it.

They didn’t even make it across the bar, wait staff scattering to what were clearly well established positions in case trouble came in.

Trouble didn’t; barely.

Jason Todd did, all but vibrating with rage and steaming green with Pitty’s contribution.

Wait; steaming? Jason had mentioned the Lazarus pits did that, but Danny had never seen ectoplasm steam before. Could everyone see it?

Whether Waylon could or not, it didn’t stop him from hurrying forward, attention fully focused behind Jason for anyone following.

It was maybe the teeniest bit cute that even so angry he had a personal heat haze, Jason didn’t even think Waylon was going for him. His attention was fixed somewhere else; somewhere internal and probably bloody.

Instinct pulled Danny forward, Jason slipping easily into his aura and for a moment Danny felt like he’d drown in Jason’s rage. Answered it himself a moment later, stroking across the anger with worry-protect-safe now.

Jason twitched just a little as the aura washed around him, looking around on automatic until he faced Danny.

The rage softened just a little as he caught Danny’s eye, shoulders sagging. His jaw unclenched enough to talk; visibly enough that it must have been painful.

“Just fucking B again, treating me like a fucking child,” he spat, fists still clenched tight at his sides.

The effort it was clearly taking not to go out and start swinging kept Danny on edge, even as Waylon relaxed.

“Yer a long way from that, kid,” the big guy agreed with a low chuckle, still between Jason and the door, and rested a large hand lightly on Jason’s shoulder. “Want me to go have a word?”

Jason shook his head sharply, the smallest of smiles flicking across his face before the anger replaced it. Yeah, definitely cute.

“No thanks. You’ve only just got out, you don’t need bat trouble again already,” he said through gritted teeth, then nodded to Danny. “I just wanna get out of here.”

Danny nodded immediately, going from maybe-fight to flight. Which was kinda literally an option. Ghosts knew how to make an exit.

“Do you wanna take your bike or just disappear?” He asked simply.

Jason gave him a tight smile, barely layered over anger he was still struggling to control. Fuck, if this was what he’d been dealing with every day before Danny came along…

“Harley’s out back with Batman. I just want to fucking go,” he growled, shaking his head.

Danny nodded again, turning and crouching a little for Jason to hop onto his back.

“Phantom Express it is then.”

And yeah, he knew it looked stupid without Waylon’s confirming snort of laughter.

So did Jason, and the tinge of mirth that coloured his rage-burning-break in his head was more than worth looking silly.

Seemed like Jason was finally starting to trust his strength too as he hopped up without question, Danny not reacting in the slightest to his added weight.

And definitely not the way Jason now towered over him, or having those thighs wrapped around his waist. Nope. No horny in the aura today.

Giving a last nod to Waylon, he turned them both invisible and flew up through the roof, intangibility phasing them through at the last second.

Once they were high enough to be beyond any eavesdropping, he slowed to a stop, not quite looking back at his passenger.

“So, where do you wanna go?”

As Danny had kinda hoped, the sudden exhilaration of flight had tamped Jason’s anger back down until it was less a physical presence. It still seethed and boiled inside him, but it was losing steam.

About half of what he could feel from Jason now was just tired, and honestly? Couldn’t blame him.

Danny had been told how bad his pit rages had been, a visceral wrath that almost possessed Jason and made him lash out in all directions. And by all accounts? He still hadn’t seen the half of it.

It made his core ache just thinking about living with that much rage stuck inside. Feeling like that all the time… Danny had always respected Jason, but this? This demanded a whole new level.

And a little bit made him want to put Jason in a nice ectoplasm hamster ball so he could roll around the streets and nothing would ever hurt him again.

Gonna have to keep that under wraps too, since apparently Danny was losing his fucking mind all up in Gotham.

(Not that he’d never hamster balled anyone before. It was just usually a punishment for Tucker, or Wes if they were being assholes. Derogatory hamster balls were totally fine and not evidence of losing anything at all.)

The man himself was quiet for a long moment, struggling with just everything that was going on inside him.

Danny waited, turning them both intangible again just in case Jason could still be affected by the cold. At this height, it wasn’t exactly pleasant.

Made him side eye all those pictures of witches in dresses and long socks on broomsticks. Good way for the living to get pneumonia, in Danny’s opinion.

Jason didn’t even seem to notice, letting out a frustrated huff of air.

“We’ve gotta get Tucker home. If B is off being an asshole we can at least go to the manor,” he grumbled.

Danny paused for a long moment himself, considering another solution. After all, for ghosts it was simply unthinkable that they hadn’t even had an introductory brawl yet.

Whenever he got that pissed, getting the shit kicked out of him had always helped burn off the energy. But maybe Jason’s was different.

Danny was pretty sure he’d never been that pissed, not even at Pariah. Not even at Agent K.

Danny wouldn’t judge. For now, he nodded, turning to head towards the manor.

“We can go to Frostbite after we’ve dropped Tuck off. It’s been long enough, and you definitely feel stronger?” He offered, kinda hoping it might help Jason feel better.

The grunt he got in return didn’t sound convinced, but Jason also didn’t argue.

Neither of them were expecting to run into traffic in the Gotham airways though, at least not below airline level. Or to be interrupted.

With a sudden loud gust of wind, another black haired young man in a black leather jacket pulled up in front of them, looking around with a frown.

“Hey, I heard someone up here? Jason? Where are you?” He asked loudly, brows furrowing like he was still listening.

Danny’s confusion was better than words as Jason gave his shoulder a quick squeeze.

“Superboy the first. Tim’s boyfriend,” he explained quietly, and Kon’s head whipped around to follow the sound.

“Okay Jason, I know you’re up here, what the fuck?” He asked impatiently, which was when Danny remembered.

Still invisible. Hiding from the Bat and also concerned citizens. He popped them back into visibility with a sheepish grin, waving at… Connor? Or Con? No, kinda sharper. Kon.

It might have been a secret third level of alias, but Danny was pretty sure the bats had called him by a couple names over the various stories.

“Hey… sorry, forgot we were invisible,” he explained, trying not to laugh. Mostly at himself, but best not give the wrong impression.

Superboy’s eyes locked on them for a moment, narrowed briefly, and then his face broke into a grin.

“So, I’m gonna guess you’re Danny, Tucker’s friend that Tim has been gushing about?” He asked eagerly, reclining comfortably in the air. Then paused. “Well, gushing about Tucker. You were mentioned, though.”

That sounded about right.

Danny snickered and nodded, giving Jason a careful reshuffle. If they weren’t gonna be travelling for the moment, they could get a little more comfortable.

Thick thighs tightened around his hips and Danny very specifically did not melt into a puddle of goo. Not even a little bit.

“Yeah, we were just gonna go get Tucker and head out. Are you coming to see Tim?” He asked, kinda half wanting to wait around long enough and see what Tucker and Connor made of each other.

Kon if he was here in official capacity? But he wasn’t exactly wearing a super uniform, or logo. But Jason hadn’t mentioned a name, because Jason wasn’t a helper.

There was one easy way around that though. Bouncing Jason just a little more roughly than strictly necessary, Danny stuck out his hand.

“Danny Fenton, by the way. Since we haven’t been fully introduced.” He gave his best cheerful-but-totally-human grin. No point unnerving the first official alien he met, even if he was only half alien.

The boy reached out easily, giving him a firm handshake back.

“Kon El. Connor when we’re on street level. And yeah, I was just heading the same way when I heard you guys. Tim asked if I’d bring Tucker home though, he wasn’t sure what you guys’ plans were so if you had anything else to do?” He glanced from one to the other, so clearly not asking that he might as well have.

Could Kryptonians see the heat haze of Jason’s anger too? Or did he just know the family well enough, know Jason well enough, to know the signs?

Danny hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at the other halfa. He could almost taste Jason’s indecision, holding each other this close. Bitter and tight in the back of his throat.

How much did he want to deal with his family, with that rage still burning inside him? Hell, they hadn’t even worked out what Jason would do while Danny took Tucker home.

Danny kept quiet though, leaving the choice up to Jason.

It didn’t take long.

Sucking in a deep breath, Jason let out a heavy sigh, a wave of pure relief washing over him.

The anger was still there, a hot little coal right between the dual cores, but it couldn’t drown out the gratitude-sorry-safe. Barely tempered it anymore.

His voice was still gruff when he spoke, still stiff with emotion, but Kon seemed to understand.

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks Kon.”

The younger man tipped them both a sarcastic salute, straightening in the air and turning towards Wayne manor.

“You’ve probably got like, a text from Tim about the change of plan, if he even bothered to mention it, but I’ll let him know I saw you. Seems like you’re sticking around, so I’ll probably run into you again, Danny.” He gave them both a cheery nod and flew away.

A tiny part of Danny was sorry that they wouldn’t be around to watch Tucker spiral when confronted with Tim’s boyfriend.

Tim Drake Wayne was a hottie, no point denying it, and he was easily Tucker’s second biggest tech crush beside the mysterious Oracle. With all that hero worship though?

Tucker probably hadn’t actually noticed he was also hot yet. He’d have been in love with him if he’d looked like a snail.

Kon El though? Kon El had exactly the kind of leather jacket, too cool for school, sculpted good looks that Tucker fell head over heels for on any gender.

(Danny absolutely was not a hypocrite, he’d be the very first to admit that he and Tucker had very similar taste in partners, at least as far as appearances. Tucker just preferred a little more “step on me” energy.)

In all the reminders that Tim had a boyfriend, no one had said his boyfriend was hot.

Danny didn’t mention it. It wasn’t like he’d have been able to fully enjoy things anyway; the night before had proved that, and Jason’s mood had been rosy by comparison.

He did offer just one comment though, watching Kon fly away thoughtfully.

“Should we have warned him that Tucker is going to spontaneously combust if Kon tells him to ride him?” He asked mostly hypothetically, fading them out of visibility and tangibility again.

It startled Jason into letting out a snort of laughter which became a cough with his last rasp of thinner air.

“You just did, with Kon’s hearing,” he managed once he could talk normally again, and Danny considered feeling bad about it.

That sizzling coal of rage was almost buried under amused-anticipation-relief.

Nah. No matter what form Tucker’s next wave of vengeance took, this was worth it.

“So, where to next?” He asked, again… kinda hypothetically. From Jason’s sigh the older man was just as aware of what the answer had to be.

“Let’s just fucking go see Frostbite. If I keep looking at the city something’s gonna piss me off again.” He sounded reluctant, resigned, but a slow creeping glow of amazement spread through his aura.

About to pop open another portal, Danny tipped his head up as far as he could and made them visible again, looking for his face.

“What’s up?” He asked, willing to put dimensional travel on hold if there was anything they might be able to do to actually help.

Jason shook his head to focus himself, glancing down at Danny and quickly looking away. Was Danny imagining that sweet pink blush in his cheeks?

“It’s nothing.”

Danny waited, secure in the actual empathic sensation of Jason warring with himself on his back. Finally he won (and also lost, as all civil wars end) and sighed.

“Just. I’ve never come out of the pit rage this fast before,” he admitted gruffly, glaring down at the sparkling lights of the city below. Like this wasn’t something to celebrate.

Danny let them fade back to invisibility, since Jason pretty clearly didn’t want to be looked at.

“Hey, that’s great news! We’ll just have to short circuit Tucker’s gay ass every time you need a boost,” he chirped brightly, and popped the portal open to Jason’s laughter.

In his heart of hearts, Bruce knew why Harley was taking him to the parking lot.

If there was any chance of witnesses, any possibility of being overheard, he couldn’t listen to her. Not in the suit. Couldn’t show what any of his rogues (who hadn’t met Harley) might misconstrue as weakness.

If there was a single place in the city which could be trusted to be unsurveiled, it was the parking lots to his rogues’ side businesses. They had their own professional courtesies.

He appreciated it, in his own way. The closest thing to privacy they could have outside the Batmobile at the moment (and even then his children could listen in).

The baseball bat had been… well, not a total surprise, she’d had Jason fetch it in front of him and it wasn’t likely to be an empty prop twice in a row.

Still, he wasn’t as prepared as he could have been, and the first two blows hurt. His fold to the ground was mostly genuine, though part of him was definitely leaning in.

Concussion be damned, he’d been taking an emotional beating this week. At least exterior bruises would show him when they were healing.

But he hadn’t had time after her warning to do anything but head to the meeting.

Had he?

All he remembered was the seriousness of her face, the weight of absolute certainty in her words.

He would lose Jason, because he himself had pushed him away. Because Jason didn’t think Bruce trusted him. Thought Bruce would take away his chance at happiness.

Maybe Danny had been right. Maybe Jason didn’t even know Bruce loved him.

Things were so much worse than he’d made himself believe.

He knew he’d risen when his alarm went off, giving him ten minutes to head to the zeta tubes. Found Constantine again in the alley, since the man was with him now.

Couldn’t remember talking to him. But that wasn’t unlike himself anyway.

There was a hidden zeta tube downtown, only just far enough to justify the Batmobile, but Bruce would rather not leave it to drive home from Freeze’s place anyway.

He set it to return to the cave as he climbed out, at the end of another dark alley. The sun was already beginning to sink, painting the city in yellow and gold.

Constantine tapped carefully on the hood of the Batmobile between them, then jumped back as the car drove itself away, swearing. By the time he finished dusting himself off, Bruce was watching him again.

“Are yer back in there?” The magician asked cautiously, his own voice rough.

Bruce took a moment to assess his colleague. Never exactly tidy, Constantine looked more dishevelled than he had before Bruce and Harley left him.

Jason’s checkup likely hadn’t gone well.

Of course it hadn’t. Not if Jason felt the way Harley said… no. The way he’d told Harley he felt. Because Harley asked.

Something deep and weary in him tried to pull his shoulders down to sag, but he ignored it with the aid of long practice. Just gave Constantine a stiff jerk of the head.

“Hn.”

The man rolled his eyes, turning and heading for the defunct phone booth disguising the zeta tube.

“Great, monosyllables. Well, since yer back, listen up.”

The results of his examination, if Jason even let him perform it. Still, maybe the man would have something? It wasn’t like he couldn’t have cast a few spells without Jason knowing.

“First of all, yer boy ain’t a revenant.”

That jerked Bruce to a stop, his brows furrowing as he turned to face Constantine head on again. The magician had pulled a cigarette from somewhere, likely because they were heading for the Watchtower.

Bruce didn’t bother trying to stop him. He was too busy trying to process.

Constantine didn’t look happy either, so this probably wasn’t actually good news?

“What do you mean?” He growled, stepping closer and lowering his voice to avoid eavesdroppers.

Constantine rolled his eyes, waved his free hand, and the smoke from his cigarette crackled briefly in the air.

“None o’ that cloak and dagger shit, Bats. No one’s gonna hear us. But the kid, Jason? He’s not a revenant. Not sure what he is, actually, an’ not too keen on lookin’ deeper.”

It might have been the longest Bruce had heard him speak without saying “fuck” since the Amity Park question came up. The fact that he looked distinctly uneasy made that less reassuring.

“Why not?” Bruce growled, a little grateful to be able to step back and away from the smoke. Harley had left his head be for the most part, but it was already pounding again.

Constantine fixed him with a slow, speculative look.

“See, here’s my issue,” he began, raising a hand to cut off a growled protest and pointing directly at Bruce. “You? You’re Mr Worst Case Scenario. Can’t stop pokin’ at shit til it gives you an answer, or bites yer head off.”

That was certainly true. It was something that Alfred… Selina… Clark… Dick… Diana… almost everyone close to him had complained of.

Bruce wasn’t convinced it was a shortcoming, but he knew it about himself. It had been an underlying theme this whole investigation; Constantine telling him things because otherwise he’d go poking.

So what changed?

“You’re not gonna like whatever I tell you. An’ I could try an’ temper that by lyin’, or I could treat you like a fuckin’ adult on yer promise the you don’t go punchin’ inter shit yer don’t understand.”

Constantine stared expectantly at him, taking another long drag on his cigarette.

Ah. Waiting for Bruce to choose an option. As if there was any doubt?

“I swore your oath,” Bruce reminded him gruffly, and Constantine rolled his eyes again.

“An’ I’m fully aware you’re a tricky piece of shit that’ll try and work around it the second it comes up. That’s why it’s generic. You hear about the Ghost King, you back the fuck off, shut the fuck up, and run. That’ll include any of yer precious reports.”

He took another slow drag of his cigarette, watching Bruce the whole while. Bruce stared back, unsure what he was looking for but determined that he’d find nothing.

Shit. So much for having Red Robin and Oracle prod around for him. Though he had been planning to warn them to be delicate.

It barely occurred to him that showing nothing might tell Constantine more than anything else before the magician sighed and shook his head.

“Listen, B. The shit you need to know? Actually, really need to know? Jason’s… safe. There’s not a damn thing in the Infinite Realms that can hurt him now, whatever he is. I’d even put money on him bein’ demon proof, with the wards on him now.”

And wouldn’t it be so, so nice to believe that Constantine had put those wards on him? Bruce could feel the wish for it, a flight of fancy he rarely allowed himself.

Bruce let himself indulge in the want to believe for about the same length of time as that ominous pause.

“What wards?” He asked flatly, the low rumble not exactly hiding how he felt about the situation, but since he’d almost rather yell, he considered it fair.

Constantine, again, was not impressed. He folded his arms and prodded at Bruce with his still smoking cigarette.

“See, there’s that prodding. I’m trying to do this the nice way, B. Give you answers instead of just shutting you down, but you aren’t gonna know everything without a couple decades of practice, and you need to get over that.”

The magician took another drag, closing his eyes tightly for a second. When he opened them again, he looked entirely uncompromising.

The stern professional Bruce had only seen previously in life and death situations, and ones getting worse at that. Was this situation that dire?

“I could speak a word and make you forget this whole damn thing. Four more, and you’d have no choice about droppin’ it,” Constantine growled, clearly bitterly regretting not choosing that option. Bruce’s eyes narrowed in response.

He’d clearly ruled it out, but he hadn’t wanted to. Whatever he didn’t want to tell Bruce, Constantine expected him to have a powerful response.

Which meant that is was very bad, but also that Bruce’s natural response would make things worse. He could work around that.

He chose not to address the remark at all, just waiting for Constantine to continue. The man stayed silent just long enough that Bruce wondered if he was changing his mind on trying to make him forget.

This was why he hated magic. But he’d broken through it before. No spell could stand up to intense, detailed scrutiny, and he would surely have plenty of clues to remind himself when the problem was with his own son.

Finally Constantine sighed, flicked the butt of his cigarette to the ground, and crushed it under one heel. He seemed to have come to a decision, new purpose under the fear he’d been hiding since he first arrived.

“Let’s just get this over with,” he sighed, heading for the zeta tube. There was just a little more spring in his step.

Bruce frowned and moved to block him.

“The wards,” he pressed, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. This conversation was important.

Constantine looked surprisingly chipper actually, raising his chin to give Bruce a sudden and almost startling smirk.

“Oh no, big guy. You had your chance to promise to behave like an adult, so we’re going with option three.”

He’d noticed Bruce’s lack of comment. Obviously, but Bruce hadn’t really thought he’d need to say anything.

Investigating was what Batman did. He knew how to do it tactfully, and without stepping on toes. He just wouldn’t promise not to do it.

None of which explained Constantine’s suddenly improved mood. It was almost the same satisfaction he’d show when he’d worked out how to pawn an unpleasant job off on someone else.

“And that is?” Bruce asked warily, suspecting he wouldn’t like whatever made this not Constantine’s problem. Constantine waggled a finger at him, like he was nothing more than a naughty child.

“I let you ask questions, after Wonder Woman promises to keep yer in line.” He said it with the finality of a lead weight, and it dropped through Bruce’s chest like one.

Shit.

Diana… Diana knew him far too well. If Constantine convinced her of whatever gave him this level of caution, she would camp in the bat cave to stop him if necessary.

Diana didn’t tolerate what she considered risk. If Bruce could convince her he was right instead… she could be a very useful ally. And she had always liked Jason.

Jason adored her. Wonder Woman had always been his favourite hero, even as a child. If Diana asked him, he might even agree to a consultation.

Bruce still didn’t know what had happened with today’s consultation, and apparently he wouldn’t even find out until they spoke to Wonder Woman.

He could extrapolate from that alone, frankly, even if Constantine wasn’t visibly rattled.

Bruce stepped aside somewhat reluctantly, letting Constantine step into the zeta tube first. They could technically fit in together, but he wasn’t exactly in the mood to play sardines.

The magician’s vehemence was troubling him, as was his conviction that Wonder Woman would be the answer. It was possible that Bruce had miscalculated the scale of the threat they were facing.

Whatever had warded Jason must be touchy enough to dislike any form of questions, and powerful enough to have its displeasure matter. And if it would be able to detect the questions being asked…

Contrary to popular opinions, Bruce did know how to temper his investigative instincts when called for. People only had to ask.

And.

Impress on him. A few times. That they meant it.

Honestly if they just told him why and what to expect, set some limitations and boundaries, it wasn’t like he was unreasonable. He just liked to verify data through his own sources.

Justice League Dark were a perfectly reputable source when he had to involve himself with magic. He could cross reference things between other members if he needed to check Constantine’s intel.

The unfortunate fact of the matter seemed to be that however little Bruce liked it, he did now need to learn more about magic. He’d been content to leave it to the experts for as long as he could, but…

But it now concerned one of his children. His second son, the one he’d lost.

At the very least, he needed to understand enough about the Infinite Realms to know how to keep Jason safe. What he would need, if there was anything they should be doing for him.

Not that the JL Dark had bothered to let him know when they thought Jason was a revenant. That might have been nice, even if apparently he wasn’t.

He’d already planned to start with Constantine’s attached reading on the Infinite Realms, and the Ghost King in particular for his new researches.

(Just the thought sent a shiver down his spine, and Bruce stepped into the zeta tube a little faster than necessary. Was that his oath? On just the thought?)

He could get information on these specific wards too. Cross reference with Zatanna when she was available. Perhaps contact Dr Fate.

The Justice League Dark had their own sections of both reference materials and secured artefacts in various bases around the world.

Studying those should be a sufficient compromise; he wouldn’t reach out to the Infinite Realms directly, not until the Anti-Ecto Acts had been dealt with.

Then they could get in touch with Jason’s mysterious doctor, provided he was willing. Have the dismantling of the acts as a show of good faith.

He’d have to ask Constantine about a sufficient apology too. And mention the acts themselves; somehow there just hadn’t been time today.

Stepping out into the Watchtower, Bruce was maybe just possibly anticipating the magician’s reaction, in a dark way. Let someone else have a bad day for a change.

The poor man had been so upset with the idea that Bruce might ask questions about the realms. The fact that the United States had declared a kill order on all its occupants was not going to go over well.

And all that sass and defensive aggression could be pointed at someone other than Bruce for a while.

Actually? He should wait until Constantine was sitting down. He could add it to his meeting notes, bring it up to the whole League at once.

There would be someone on site if the magician actually fainted.

Or if Bruce’s head actually exploded.

Bruce made a mental note to check their medical supplies and defences, in case there were any unpredictable reactions. He could swing by the infirmary before they got started.

Giving Constantine a quick parting nod, he turned away from the hall and walked quickly towards the infirmary. Just to check in.

Today’s meeting was just the Justice League, with Constantine as the sole representative of JL Dark; Dark’s members all seemed to know about the Infinite Realms and Amity Park already. They didn’t need the briefing.

They’d have to read Bruce’s meeting notes now though. The same ones he was fully aware most members of the League just ignored, considered wasteful paperwork.

They expected to be told directly if something was important. As if he had all the time in the world, and they had no personal responsibility.

The lights thrummed softly as he walked, all the little noises of the satellite’s systems ticking over in perfect order helping Bruce settle into his purpose.

Jason’s report had been thorough, and though Bruce could easily see the bias around his son’s words… in this case it was more than justified.

The wording used to describe Jason and others like him in the acts contained less expletives, but were no better. The veneer of detachment only made the disdain shine through more clearly.

As if his son were beneath contempt. If Jason were to be believed (and Bruce would confirm with Constantine and Shazam) then most of his family were ecto-contaminated.

It was almost nice to have a tangible problem to solve. An enemy he could face and defeat in simple, easy manoeuvres. It was unlikely to be a physical fight, but that hardly mattered.

The delicate machinations of politics were better left to Wonder Woman, Aquaman, damn near anyone but Batman. No, Bruce Wayne was far more influential in that arena.

A little money in the right places, press coverage, a big “himbo with a heart of gold” performance. They weren’t his preferred weapons, but he knew they were effective.

And for Jason, there was nothing at all he wouldn’t do.

Purpose and the time limit combined hastened his step, his cloak billowing around him as he stalked the halls of the Watchtower. The infirmary was empty; always good.

Their stocks were full, and there were three nurses on duty that Bruce had personally selected. He trusted all of them, and none looked worried at his visit.

Batman was well known for overpreparing. It always came in useful.

He was just making his way back towards the meeting hall, feeling markedly better himself with a firm goal in mind, when Superman rounded the corner ahead of him.

The man of steel was heading his way, worry writ large on his face. If he’d heard Bruce’s talk with Harley… actually, if he’d been able to overhear Constantine’s talk with Jason, that would be very useful.

Bruce prepared a few brief words to reassure his friend as succinctly as possible, and get them both moving back towards the meeting. They could actually talk afterwards.

He never got to say them. Superman ignored his little nod of greeting and hurried up to him, standing close enough that they couldn’t be overheard. Blocking Bruce’s path.

A thrum of dread wormed its way back into Bruce’s heart as he looked up into his friend’s earnest, deep blue eyes.

Clark kept his voice low, urgent and concerned as he whispered five words that shattered the world.

“Bruce? I can’t hear Jason’s heart.”

—————————

😈

Now quick, for extra bonus points, who can name what was supposed to happen at some point in the last two chapters and didn’t? This is your chance for a treat from the beginning of the next chapter

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Next chapter!

#danny fenton dead and loving it #dp x dc #dead on main ship #danny x jason #chapter 15 #i’ll take the highway #the highway to heeeeeeeeeell/The Ghost Zone #anyway rip to bruce wayne but i would simply not tell my son he can’t have nice things #i’m just built different #so is harley #and she has a bat #and a bat-shaped problem #fuck i’m so looking forward to the start of the next chapter it’s a joke i’ve been waiting on for months #hint: sam #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp

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