#looks like I have to draw him more for practice oh darn what a shame | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bubblyani · 4 years

Text

Bail Out : 10 (FINAL)

(Bruce Wayne x Reader)

A Bruce Wayne Multi Chapter Series

Chapter 10: Life Sentence (Final Chapter)

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

Word Count: 6200+

Rating: Mature (18+)

Warnings: Violence, Swearing and Sexual Content

Author’s Note: The Final Chapter is finally here! As much as it makes me happy to give this the ending I wanted, I am truly sad to part with this Series. Hope you will enjoy this for the last time <3

CHAPTER LIST

Serene was the nocturnal sky, generously adorned with stars that shone like diamonds. Though an obstinate circle of clouds slowly advanced from the distance, the sky brimmed with enough confidence. Enough to conquer the night with its serenity. A sheer contradiction to the chaos that conquered the rooftop of Wayne Tower. Chaos that morphed into a fight to the death.

Gripping on to the phone, a surge of hope rushed through your system within a matter of seconds. For Blake’s message helped. It was the solution to all this. “LOOK OUT!” Batman’s growl made you look back. Your face grew pale the moment your eyes caught the sight of Emilio, pointing a gun at you. All happened in a matter of seconds. “You’re getting away that easy!” He said, chill embodying him with his hand in the trigger. It seemed death was greedy for your company. Frozen in place, Would you accept? “Goodby-Ow!” A surprise attack greeted Emilio from the back as the Dark Knight forcefully bashed his head with his elbow, leaving Mr. Slender on the ground, fully unconscious. You sighed looking at Batman, relieved to find him well. Except, you realized the evening was not fully resolved. Wait! Your heart raced frantically. Where was Clara all the sudden? Darkness was an ally to Clara, camouflaged as she ambushed Batman from the back. You gasped as you saw her grab his neck with a black wire, forcing him to fall on his knees as she began to strangle him with it. A strong man, he certainly was. You needed no proof. However, sneak attacks such a this were practically anyone’s weakness. Thus, his agonizing roars frightened you. Seemed that death turned its attention somewhere else. And that frightened you more. “No…Bruce” You whimpered to yourself, as your heartbeat grew fast in ten folds. Never had you lost anyone you cared for. And as weak as it seemed, you were not prepared to lose him. Not him. Not him at all.

“Wait! WAIT!!” You yelled at Clara, “DON’T DO THIS! NOT TO HIM!!”   Unfortunately, those words did not reach Clara’s ears. Not when her focus was elsewhere. Even through the cowl, Bruce’s face had turned gaunt, struggling to pull the wire off his neck, but failing miserably. With gritted teeth and groans of frustration, Batman was as helpless as he could be. Smothering yourself by the sight of him this way, tears pooled around your eyes. And at that moment.That very moment, was when a memory flashed before you:

 “You know what? It’s a darn shame Joe Chill didn’t finish the job…He should have gotten rid of the entire Wayne family”

You remembered Henderson’s harsh words, insulting and harming the reputation of the man you admired before you at the hotel one fateful night. Then you also remembered the rage in your eyes, taking justice into action as your fist bashed through his nose.

Now here you were, having to stand up for the same man once more, except in actual dire circumstances. For it was his life that was harmed instead of his reputation. Being the reckless woman you were before will certainly not help.Not with her. Not with an opponent of this magnitude. As time ticked fast, you had to take action. Smart was key. Practicality was key. His life was key. Tightening your fists, you drew in a deep breath:

“ALPHA!!…” You cried out, to which she did not answer once again. Pressing your lips together, you yelled louder: “CLARA!! I KNOW, OKAY?…” You said, "I know, being in your position, you don’t wanna hear me out. I know!” You continued, “Especially me being the target but…” drawing in another breath for courage, you added, “But I ask you to make an exception...Oh god!” Covering your mouth, You gasped as she strangled him tighter. Unaffected, Clara scoffed:   “No offense but…A job is a job…” Gathering the courage that spilled all around, you held on to the phone tightly: “Yeah maybe but..What if the job is NOT worth it?” You inquired loudly. Looking up, she seemed a bit surprised. “What?” “I mean…” you paused, “Is Henderson really giving you what he promised?” You said, raising both arms, “Or don’t you have a feeling that he’s stalling ?” Clara stood straight. “What makes you say that??” She snapped defensively. “This…” You replied, pointing at your phone as you played the Blake’s file on loudspeaker: It was a conversation between two men.

“Sir, about the Bruiser, I think the police maybe onto us” One man said, his tone rife with concern. “Don’t worry, she’ll finally be taken care of” the other voice replied. Which seemingly was Henderson’s. “When do you want to wire the rest of the payment to Alpha?” Henderson’s cackle was loud, “Payment??” He repeated, “No that’s not gonna happen, Paterson” “Sir?” Paterson was confused. “This Alpha..he’s is a sly one, and definitely not the obedient kind. Do you think my plan was to pay that son of a bitch in full?? Nah...as soon as the job is done, I’m gonna get them all arrested...Cause no one...No one messes with Henderson” “But sir-” “THAT’S FINAL!”

Calmer was what you felt, as you put the phone back in your pocket. A few seconds of silence was all that required for Clara to loosen her grip on Batman. Her expression changed. It was filled with shock, as if the recording had slapped her in the face.

“Don’t you see??” You chuckled sadly, “Henderson is trying to make a fool out of ALL of us.” As you pointed at her, at Batman, even Emilio, “In the end...it’s us who’s getting screwed” Staring at the ground, Clara’s eyebrows furrowed. Being a pawn in someone else’s game was never good news, “That message could have easily been fabricated! ” She snapped with naiveté. You smiled sadly.

“I think you pretty much know that I don’t do that. I never do that” you said, tone brimming with confidence, “Remember, you once called me an unprofessional thug with anger issues? Well guess who’s exactly just that??” You added, “You’re not a reckless one, Clara. I know that. Don’t... let one bad client ruin your life, just don't”

Silence followed you soon after, sending you in to spirals of concern. Yet, it was evident you did your best. And waiting with bated breath seemed worthwhile, when Clara released finally Batman from her grasp. Falling on to the ground, you watched him gasp for air. As much as you longed to be there by his side, you merely kept standing, resolute in protecting his identity and your relationship with him. You stood as if he meant very little for you. Painful as it was, it had to be done. Yet, it did not stop you from smiling with relief.

“Here you are, getting away from death once again” you heard Clara say, as you found her looking at you with a smug expression, “Wait!” She paused, her smile disappearing, “ If I shot you…” she said, pointing at you, “…then…why aren’t you bleeding?”

Standing up slowly, you pulled up your t-shirt, revealing the black bulletproof vest, with the bullet still intact. Mouth slightly parted, Clara certainly appeared surprised. Upon seeing her reaction, you were certainly relieved to have listened to Alfred Pennyworth’s careful instructions earlier. You were relieved you actually listened.

“Loyalty has its perks, you were right” You said with a smile. You sensed Bruce looking at you, pleased. And if Alfred was there, he would not hesitate to offer a prideful nod.

Clara chuckled, before walking towards the now-groaning Emilio. And truthfully, you did not mind.Bad blood was never a necessity between the two of you. Regardless of all that happened, regardless of her attempts to wipe your existence off the face of the earth, your eyes could never put in a pair angry glasses when it came to Clara. Hurt you were, truly. But never wrath. And you were relieved. For you could empathize, for you respected her for who she truly was: a woman who took her job very seriously. Picking Emilio up, she looked over to you: “Everything aside…” she began, “I meant what I said...” she said, “...it has been an honor knowing you. But...it’s up to you to believe me” she added whilst shrugging. All you could do was to nod. For it seemed the most appropriate. And with a sudden cloud of smoke bursting before you, she and Emilio disappeared.

“Bruce!” You breathed worriedly, dashing towards Batman helping him slowly get back up. For finally, you were free to feel relieved for him. Breathing deeply, he looked you straight in the eyes through his cowl: “Are-Are you oka-”

He was cut off, as you decided to kiss him with utmost passion.

This kiss, it encompassed relief. Relief to find him alive and out of death’s reach. It encompassed of your guilt, of your inability to assist him sooner. And by his enthusiasm kissing you back, a rush of excitement coursed through you. Especially when you came to the realization you not just kissing Bruce Wayne, you were also kissing Batman. And that was not a common occurrence. Shrieking Police sirens from downstairs pulled both of you away. Given the sounds coming from inside the building, you knew there would be police company.

“Go...” You said to him, “...it’s okay” “You sure?” He inquired deeply, to which You nodded. “Absolutely...I can handle it” And you certainly were confident about it.

The roar of thunder surprised you, signaling the hasty arrival of cold showers, descending from the dark clouds that now had completely taken over the skies. Looking up, you smiled as the continuous drops refreshed your face.

“Well, whaddaya know?” you began, as you turned to look back at him “…it’s-” Only to find he had disappeared, “….raining”.

Amused once again by his signature move, You smiled to yourself, “So cool…” you muttered, looking over your shoulder the moment the rooftop door suddenly flew open, as a group of policemen finally swarmed out with John Blake’s familiar face leading them.

Though the clear skies were serene, the clouds truthfully seemed to have actually brought rains of hope in disguise. For finally, all was well for you. With an non washable smile on your face, you indulged in the rain for as long as adulthood permitted you to.

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

Gotham city, yet again declared its intention to never rest, and the Gotham Police was clear proof. But as you sat across John Blake’s desk, you were certain of the fact at least your heart could rest easy tonight. And you were grateful.

“Thanks for this by the way…” you said, gently pulling the neckline of the gray hoodie you had on. The rains of hope were refreshing, yet you were drenched by the end. Thus, the gray hoodie that was lent to you was a life savor.

“Oh, Officer Langdon had a spare one so..”

Blake replied casually, before looking over at Nina Langdon. You also looked over at her with surprise. Working on her police reports with diligence, she was the epitome of bad-assery in your eyes.

“You’re welcome” eyes meeting yours, Nina said coolly with a smile. Relieved, an inaudible “Thank You” escaped your lips as your head slightly bowed involuntarily. Nodding back, her eyes quickly move towards Blake’s, her smile growing larger. And you were immediately reminded of the visit from last time.

“I know…” You began softly, forcing Blake to look back at you, “…it’s not my place but…” you added, as he leaned forward with concern “I’ve been tracking some serious sparks between the two of you since my first time here…” you stated. And to your relief, Blake chuckled, making John chuckle, “…please tell me something’s going on-”

“Oh yeah there is…” John said, “…for sure” He confirmed with a nod.

“AHA!” You snapped your fingers victoriously, “So I DO have the sense. Thank goodness” you laughed alongside him. As the laughter subsided, you took a deep breath: “You were the real hero today, Officer…” you uttered, crossing your legs, “…I mean, if it weren’t for the recording…” you breathed in, “…it would have been one hell of a bloody evening…”

“Yeah…but …" he began, “I don’t know if I can use this against Henderson” a downcast expression clouded his face. Your eyebrows furrowed as you suppressed a sudden yawn.

“What do you mean?”

“You kidding right? An Officer recording a conversation through eavesdropping?” His eyes questioned your sanity, “ Wouldn’t exactly go well with our case…”

“Oh yeah…” a trace of enthusiasm left your system as you nodded. How naive you were to even assume this would be child’s play, “…and I bet the CCTV cameras had something to catch” you muttered, slowly coming to the disappointing realization. You may have escaped death. But the root of all danger, the man with the power and the riches, would be left unaffected. As if nothing significant occurred.

“I’m sorry this was a dead end,Ma’am” Blake said sadly. The vibration of your phone urged you to look down, seeing the text brought a smile. A comforting smile. “Not entirely” you replied, looking back at him, “I mean, We know who planned it all, right?And the assassin will have no business with me anymore..so…” you paused, “…not all hope is lost” Smiling warmly, you slowly got up, “You saved many lives today, that counts. Thank you...for everything, Officer Blake”

Officer Langdon stood next to Blake, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Looking at her hand, he turned back to you with a smile full of content. Fortunate you were truly to be arrested by him that fateful evening. Fortunate you were to have him believe in you. You were truly fortunate.

Standing by the entrance of the precinct, you breathed in deep. A smile was inevitable the moment your eyes caught the sight before you. Dressed in a fine suit as always, Bruce Wayne leaned against his Black Lamborghini as he waited for you late at night. With the streets almost empty at that hour, you were truthfully quite relieved to find him there. And admittedly, the sight of him instantly grabbed you by the hand, leading you to the very first morning when he showed up this way.

“You clean up pretty good, Mr. Wayne” You jested, slowly walking towards him. He smiled: “Part of the job, I guess” he responded which drove you to a chuckle, “Let’s go home”

A faint camera shutter sound intruded your ears, capturing your attention. Looking to your left, you spotted a young, scrawny looking man shyly scurrying away with a camera phone in hand. What photo did he take? A part of you longed to know, however the other greater part did not seem to care, for you truly were not in the shape to mind at all.

Getting in to the vehicle, memories that still seemed fresh revisited you. That first conversation, getting your hand treated, accidentally having your poor heart stirred. Leaning against the passenger seat, a luxurious sense of comfort brought out another yawn from you.

“I gotta say…” Bruce began, starting the engine, “The vest, I really did not see that coming”

“Hmmmm” you hummed, occupied in the comfort with your eyes closed. “But really, that was very clever of Alfr-”

His words were faint, growing even softer. For you were a willing victim to the exhaustion , which was effortlessly brought out by the comfort of an expensive leather car seat.

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

Erik Henderson was impatient, and it certainly showed. With his silk robes moving around, he paced from one corner of his bedroom to the other with speed. For along with impatience came disappointment.

“Is the girl here yet?? Where the fuck are they?”

He snarled loudly, when he sat on one of armchair. As for the Bruiser, he was promised the deed would be done tonight, with the result presented tomorrow morning. But until then, it did not hurt for him to engage in some early celebrations. Preferably with the company of his usual lineup of high end call girls. However, they were late.

Along with his ill temper and lack of appreciation to his wife, infidelity was high on the list. And tonight, his body was ready with much enthusiasm. He was ready to feel like a man. Ready to indulge in the sight of the women pleasure one another, only to pleasure him soon after. Still, they were late.

“Apologies! Mr. Henderson”

His eyes to shot up by the sound of a brunette woman. She stood by entrance of his room wearing a trench and beige heels, her full lips and big eyes growing distinctive as she began to walk towards him. Henderson raised his eyebrows:

“Wait a minute!” He said, as she approached him, “You’re not the girl I asked for ...” he said, rising from the chair angrily, “Why aren’t you answering me, you bitc-ARGH!”

Henderson cried out loud, when he realized the woman grabbed him by the arm, only to twist it effortlessly, switching to grip his neck tightly before she stabbed his stomach with a small knife. With his defenses weakened and knife still in stomach, he was lowered back to his chair. However, her hand did not leave his neck.

“Wh-” Henderson began breathlessly, “Who the fuck are you?” He inquired.

“Perhaps this...might jog your memory” the woman said, as she proceeded to wear a black mask, that shaped like a skull. Eyes widened, Henderson just could not fathom what he just witnessed.

“Alpha!?” He breathed. “Indeed, I am…” Clara replied, now in that familiar robotic voice. “You’re…” he stuttered, “…you’re a wo-”

“Ugh!” She shook her head,“Save me the sexist bullshit” she added annoyingly, whilst taking off the mask,“Looks like you were never gonna pay for our services, huh?” She inquired, “And I bet ...” she said, her free hand going through his chair while the knife was still intact, “….you have an alarm for the police to show up, hmmm?” She raised her eyebrows, finally discovering his mobile phone, “Heh! Just what I thought...” She remarked with a chuckle. So the Bruiser was right all along.

Speechless and injured, Henderson only could hyperventilate weakly. Clara smiled at him coldly. Funny how the tables have been turned. Funny how the man once was powerful now reeked of sheer desperation.

“I knew You’ve always been bad, Mr.Henderson” she began, “…but THIS? This disrespect? is just unforgivable. So…here’s what we’re gonna do…” She added, menace evident in her tone while she twisted the knife harder into his stomach, that sent him screaming, “You and I…we are gonna take a little trip… out of Gotham”

Fear translated in to Henderson’s quivering lips, “For-For h-how long?”

“Oh….” Ready to show her true colors, Clara Bennett flashed an evil grin, “…indefinitely”

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

The blue hour greeted your fluttering eyes gently the next morning. Stretching lazily, you felt your presence on a bed. It seemed the car seat was full of comfort it sent you to the deepest slumber. The blue hour appeared more graceful at the Wayne Penthouse. It was indeed quite the beauty. But the beauty was intensified the moment your eyes glimpsed upon the man laying beside you.The man who gazed long enough for you to smile shyly.

“I dozed off last night huh?” You inquired, your tone rife with sleepiness.

He nodded gently. Pressing your face against the pillow, embarrassment took control. The thought of Bruce Wayne carrying your sleeping figure all the way to bed was more than you could imagine. What if you snored? What if you drooled? Oh! The horror!

“I’m sorry...” you mumbled, looking at him. However, he shook his head.

“Don’t need to...” he replied, his breathy tone sending shivers down your spine. You raised your eyebrows: “Shouldn’t you should be sleeping?” you inquired playfully, whilst laying on your side.

“Don’t want to...” He said, moving closer to you.

His tone may have been gentle, yet it did not mean he was not confident about it. And the moment you felt his lips press against yours, that confidence suddenly had more reason. Kissing him back, you indulged it as you would indulge your morning coffee. Even better. His kiss at dawn was a gentle fire, that was lit to spread warmth around a once cold and lifeless room, to give it the life it once had. His kiss was also a reminder of what you needed. A need that was urgent. Pulling away gently, you glanced upon the surprised expression in his face. You could empathize why, and you were surely were not planning to disappoint.

Maintaining his gaze, you dipped your hands under the white sheets, stripping yourself off your sweatpants and underwear as fast as you could. He was certainly fascinated as you tossed the sheet aside, only to slowly straddle him, wearing nothing but the gray hoodie. A faint gasp left you when your naked mound made subtle contact with his shorts. It caused friction. More importantly, it caused sheer arousal that stimulated the entirety of your senses. Seeing him so calm beneath you, it certainly was a pleasurable sight. Balancing yourself over the mattress with one hand, you were surprised at how you managed to pull down his shorts with ease, receiving his full cooperation to remove it completely. You were calm, yet daring this morning.

The sight of Bruce draw in his shaky breath as you slowly sank into his abundantly erect manhood caused weakness in your knees. However, you had to be strong. Your damp opening welcomed him whole, as you finally sat with comfort. Finally becoming one, you stretched yourself, pulling your hoodie off, leaving you completely bare. With your hands resting on his bare chest, you permitted the gentle blue morning filter wash over you when you began to roll your hips in slow rhythm. For you were a lazy rider, mounted on a horse who took you home with relaxation. For you were both relaxed, for you were both calm. This morning, it need not be a passionate race that needed a speedy finish. It was merely just two lovers on a slow journey, intimate and brimming with emotion.

Amidst the breathy moans exchanged between the two, Your eyes conversed with his. You told him how indebted you were to him in every way. You stressed how you wished every second with him was longer than the others. You apologized for every single moment you hurt him without your knowledge. He acknowledged them all, surprising you as he sat up in a flash. Wrapping his arms around your waist, his fingers explored your bare back, feeling its curves before he proceeded to envelope his lips in yours in a slow, yet passion inducing kiss. He kissed you with a mission. As if he longed to fulfill your wish, as if he was on a fierce attempt to slow down time. The manner his tongue embraced your own, certainly was a display of how this pleasure was to be indulged in the slowest, possible manner.

And it certainly meant taking one’s sweet time.

Distracted with his kisses, you were even unaware of his right hand roaming over to cup your left breast. In the midst of the morning chill, he warmed it with his generous palm, his thumb gently running over the now erect bud. The fact he savored this act slow, roused you even further. Shivering moans exited your lips the moment his delicious mouth replaced his thumb, latching on to it. The manner of which he suckled it, the manner he tasted it with passion, provided a new form of life within you. Kissing his head frantically, you continued to moan. You adored this man, you could not deny it. In fact, you could burst into tears by the thought of it. With his lips now placing gracious kisses around the softness of your breast, sparks of fire began to spread. Your fingers traced over the strangle marks on his neck, causing your lips to quiver with emotion.

Kissing his neck with determination, you hoped you would not inflict more pain upon him ever again. He heard your hopes, as his own lips frantically looked for yours to kiss you once again. Surprise was clearly the main role this morning. Your eyes widened the moment he quickly turned, flipping you back to bed, hovering over you.

Holding on the headboard, Bruce continued to move inside of you, frustratingly slow. His soft breathy moans blessed your ears, while his finger felt your sensitive nub at your opening, providing ample stimulation to throw your head back and feel the headboard behind you. He breathed in your name religiously, urging you to look at him. He spoke to you in hushed tones. He swore to protect you always, no matter what may come his way. He swore with such passion and desperation.

You believed him, with all your heart you longed to. However, you were also realistic. This was all on the brink of passion. For truthfully, Life never was always kind to everyone who walked this earth. Exceptions would always exist, even where he could not show up. And you did not take them to heart. Not one bit. For you knew better. As he buried his face on your neck, adorning it with kisses, that was when you decided, deep in your heart, to make your own promise.

Blinded by passion or not, you swore. Your swore to be at your best, and keep yourself safe. And whatever trouble may announce its arrival, he would never blamed for it. Never ever. For he was no god. He was only a man. And he was yours.

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

Hues of yellow infused with the blue as the sunlight secretly crept into the penthouse. It brought more color. But nothing could replace the magic of the blue hour, and you were grateful to have made great use of it this morning. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you slowly put the pants back on, whilst the gentle yellow light grazed over your naked torso. Bruce’s hand stroked your shoulder blades, surprising you even further when you felt his blessed lips on the lower back. Biting your lip shyly, you proceeded to dress yourself with the gray hoodie once more. But in fact, butterflies still managed to flutter within you. If only words existed for you to describe the effect this man had on you, they would be used fervently. But since there were none, you knew you would fail to do him justice. The value you held for him was beyond all measure. And that was why you were reminded of what you longed to tell him before:

“Bruce?”

“Hmmm?”

Lazy hums escaped Bruce when you turned to his reclined figure in bed. Sitting crossed legged, nervousness washed all over. You wished for a distraction. You wished to remain in his arms a bit longer. But this was mandatory, thus a deep breath was a necessity:

“I got a job offer...from Hudson’s”

You said. Surprised, Bruce slowly sat up.

“The HR company?”

To which you nodded slowly, “Yeah…And I think…” you paused, “I think I’m gonna take it”

You watched him slowly process the information he just received. It was evident with his concerned expression. “You’re… leaving Wayne Enterprises?”

He breathed in inquiry. You froze. For that sentence simply forced your heart to clench tightly. And the fact those words exited his lips in an innocent manner, made it truly worse. Nostalgia hit you violently in the head. After an entire decade of devoting one’s life to this company, it would seem unthinkable. Yet, decisions such as these were not for the faint hearted. And you certainly were not one.

“Yes I am…” you admitted, “But not right away…” you quickly added, moving closer to him, “…I still have a lot to do, like cover for Lillian during her leave, and If I am leaving, I’m gonna have to train whoever will be taking my place…I just…” you paused, “I just wanted to let you know…before I accept it”

Your clenched heart remained so, as silence filled the room. His doe-eyed expression was clear as day, taking in the news: “So…” he began, staring at you, “…It’s finally happening, huh?” He muttered.

Exhaling deep, you smiled softly: “I’ve been holding onto this company for so long cause of loyalty...that I didn’t even think of my own career…” you said, “But…after I met you, everything is starting to make sense, everything I need to do is coming to me” you continued, “So, If I leave… I can finally do what I’m really good at”

There was no mirror, yet you could feel your own eyes sparkle with excitement by the mere thought of it. You could imagine it already, walking over to Lucius Fox, handing in your notice of resignation. And you could certainly imagine his response as he would smile with a nod: “I understand” He would say, with a silent exchange of understanding for it was clear you were doing the right thing. You could imagine it all. Blinking that future away, you looked at Bruce:

“And if I leave…” you said, “I don’t have to question my liberties anymore, especially when I think about us...” you paused, breathing deeply, “If that’s what you really want. Cause…” you added as you bravely cupped his face, “…that’s what I want”

When silence overpowered the atmosphere, you grew concerned. But before you could make your way down that path, Bruce expressed his opinion by leaning forward with a loving kiss. A loving kiss that encompassed everything: His acknowledgement, his excitement, and even a taste of sadness.

“Well...” he breathed into your lips, “As much as I’m going to miss seeing you at office-” You chuckled, “You rarely get to see me unless you come by-” Chuckling back, he nodded, “Point made”. Concerned, you looked directly at him. “You upset?” You inquired, to which he immediately shook his head. “Actually…” he smiled, “I’m proud of you. The way you truly want to go far for what you really need, you inspire me. You give me hope” he added, “And yes! I do want this” holding both of your hands, he stressed, “So it’s definitely worth it” You gulped, as you realized that your heart had more to reveal that expected. Especially when you saw him show this much of enthusiasm. With a heartbeat strong enough to penetrate through your entire being, you began: “Bruce…” you paused, “That day when you bailed me out, I got a Life Sentence”

Suddenly, that smile of his disappeared with concern. To which you could only smile wider with amusement.

“I got a Life Sentence, because you stole my heart” you added, “And that’s a Sentence I was willing to take on. That’s a Sentence I could never get over.” You said, “I know, there will be a day…where you and I can walk hand in hand in public, with nothing to fear. We won’t have to worry about our reputation or our safety. I know that day will come soon” you continued, hope filled in your tone, “ But until then, I’m willing to do anything. I’m willing to be quiet, I’m willing to pretend, I’m willing to let the whole world believe I’m minding my own business, when I’m actually happily minding my own business…with you” holding his hands tightly, you spoke with adoration, “Cause given the current circumstances, I am not gonna give a shit about what everyone is gonna think, or about showing off. I just wanna be happy. And being by your side is one important factor of it. That’s it…” you took a deeper breath, “I love you, Bruce” you spoke in an emotional tone, “And the more time passes, I think I find it harder to deny that…”

Letting it all out, never did anything feel this taxing on you. Especially as you kept looking into his beautiful eyes that were a journey in itself to embark on.

“I wish you know…” Bruce began, “…how it frightens me to make promises” he said softly. The pain in his voice was evident. The pain he seemingly had held in all these years. You nodded fast.

“I know, i know…” you admitted in honesty, “Being in your…position, I don’t blame you. Not one bit. You don’t have to say anything, Bruce” you said for you truly meant it.

“But…” he began, holding your hands once more, “You will know in time...you will know how much I love you. Cause I do”

Jaw dropped, suddenly your clenched heart loosened up completely. His face formed a puzzled expression. “What?” “You just said it...” You said, chuckling when he finally came to the realization of what he just admitted. Euphoria, rushed though you as you covered your mouth with emotion. For ever since the day you fell for him, those words were what you always dreamed of hearing.

“Wow! You love me...” you voice broke, as tears formed within you, “…you do love m-” mumbled last words did not seem to matter when Bruce pulled you in for another gentle kiss. He loved you. Bruce Wayne he loved you. Unfathomable yet real. Immersed in his arms in an embrace, you rubbed his back with love.

“Don’t worry…” you assured, “I know what I’m getting into. And I’ll be here…” you paused, “…for a while. Okay…maybe even longer than that” you jested, as he began to laugh out loud. The sight of his laughter was what you cherished. And what you hoped to provide for him as long as you could.

You fixed your hair hurried upon seeing Alfred Pennyworth enter the room with morning tea. The fact he found you in bed with Bruce made you embarrassed.

“Sorry Alfred...” you muttered shyly. Alfred however, never looked this pleased. “Never apologize for putting a smile on Master Wayne’s face, Miss” He said, as he placed the tray on the bedside cupboard “And mine...”

A trickle of warmth engulfed your heart, to the point you felt your nose itch with the urge to cry once again. Scrunching up your nose, you smiled. Blessed it was truly to be this loved.

“Apparently,Henderson is missing”

“WHAT?” You and Bruce both inquired, looking at Alfred.

“That’s what it says in the papers” He responded, waving the newspaper in his hand.

Was it Clara’s doing? Was it her way of acquiring revenge? You could not help but wonder as Alfred began to read the mentioned article to Bruce. And then again, how ironic. Erik Henderson strongly wished for you to disappear, yet ended up disappearing himself.

The bedside cupboard beside you vibrated. Taking the phone, you found a text from Allison:

lol…did you see this?

Below the text was a link attached. A link that directed you to an article at a familiar website: wheresdabat.com

Your eyes widened by the sight of the photo that was above the article. A photo that showed you standing outside the Police Station with Bruce from last night. The article was written as the following:

Just when we were filled with hope of a possible spark between Batman and the Bruiser, we run into another hurdle. For here we can see the Bruiser’s employer, Billionaire Socialite Bruce Wayne arrived to her legal rescue once again last night. What could it be? A Love Triangle perhaps? Or are we just kidding ourselves completely??

Amused laughter erupted from your throat, causing Bruce and Alfred to look at you.

“Everything okay?” Bruce inquired.

“Yeah, its just...” you smiled, “It looks like the name Bruiser is gonna stick around for a while” you said, showing them the website article.

“Well…” Bruce began, “… it does have a ring to it” he added with a smile.

“You know what?” You looked at them, “ I like it” You chuckled, “ I used to hate that name, so so much. But not anymore. Guess it’s my own alias now.” you said jokingly.

It was evident it would be a scar you would have to wear for a while. But in truth, it was a scar you would gladly wear. For that scar, it bailed you out, it brought you the liberation you desired, and it led you to love. Thus, you were not remorseful at all. No wonder you like it so.

Excitement bubbling within you in great speed, you began to form a text reply to your friend:

Fuck!

You sent in an instant.

FUCK!!!

It certainly did not take long for Allison to respond: 

Oh no ...what is it, Sweetie? I’m sorry but I thought it was just hilarious...

Chuckling, you texted back:

No it’s not that. Ali, I think...

Over excitement led to accidentally hitting ‘send’ before you could finish typing.

What ? What is it? You’re freaking me out here…

Smiling upon seeing Allison’s reply, you looked up. Never did you imagine the sight of Bruce and Alfred causally having their morning tea would bring you such joy. With your smile still intact, you replied with the most happiness and the utmost confidence:  

I think it’s officially official with me and Bruce Wayne!!! 

——————THE END—————————

Another Author’s Note: Thank You for all you lovely people who decided to join me in this journey on Bail Out! When I took a break and started planning this story, I never thought I would receive this much love. Truthfully this is one of the favorites I have written and with the most effort and hard work. So your love meant so so much! My heart is literally heavy now. You are all awesome! Love you all! Keep being awesome!

Tagged: @tealaquinn @ladyerina @kittenlittle24 @wholesumm @everyday-imfangirling @lucy-roo @works-of-fanfiction @bale-is-a-babe @badsext @maddistyles17 @truly-insatiable @gooseyhouse @artsymaddie @quarterback-5 @mamooska8 @strangerliaa @jensen-impala @lilyofthesword @woodencupcake @fonduebitches @soullesstaco @spicybellinger @marvel-lously @glitterypinkkitty @danceyreagan @barikawho @lostgirl0020 @diogodxlot @elena-mayfair @xxdearlybeloved @shewearsprada

Check My MASTERLIST for More :)

#christian bale #bruce wayne #bale!bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bale! bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagines #bruce wayne series #batman series #bail out #bruce wayne x oc #christian bale characters #dc #Batman trilogy #nolans batman #batman begins #the dark knight #the dark knight rises #batman x reader #batman x oc

148 notes · View notes

pokeshippingflashfic · 5 years

Note

keyword "support"

The semi-darkness blankets them just well enough to not be able to clearly see one another, as well as to block out any distinguishable traits of the crowd chanting his name from beyond the veil.

“They’ll likely be calling you out any second now,” Lillie forewarns him with a kind smile, and he returns it before winking at the electric mouse curled over his shoulder.

“Ya hear that, buddy? It’ll finally be our time to shine!” he exclaims, pumping both fists tightly against his chest before loosening back up.

“Pikachu Pikapi!”

“I guess you should take this back, huh?” Mallow asks offhandedly, holding out a rather familiar glimmering golden trophy. “The adoring public will probably be expecting you to show it off now that you’re the first champion trainer of the Manalo Conference.”

“Ah, thanks,” he replies rather bashfully considering, clearing his throat to shake off the briefly overwhelming nervous excitement and shuffling the trophy around in his arms until he’s able to tuck it under one of them.

Adoring public, huh…? he mulls over internally with a wistful expression most can’t decipher.

He’ll never say it aloud but his initial thought after winning the final match against Professor Kukui is how he can’t even believe it. Ash Ketchum has practically been all over the world, he’s seen more places than probably any other single person he’s ever met before, won more gym challenges and participated in more leagues than he has fingers on the one hand… But he hasn’t taken home the gold until now.

It’s crazy to think that he was in disbelief over his own victory, over his own Pokemon team’s capabilities, at any point over the course of his adventure. After that thought - I can’t believe it! - had crossed his mind and faded away, he’d shaken his head. Why couldn’t he? He and his Pokemon were plenty strong! If anyone else had asked him before the very moment he’d blinked up at the sky and his surroundings in the very same stadium he was standing in now, basking in the afterglow of triumph, he would have guffawed in assured confidence and said it was only a matter of time!

The chanting grows ever louder as Professor Kukui speaks fondly of his experiences in breathing life into Alola’s Pokemon League, as well as his pride at having one of his own students best him in battle.

He knows he’s probably two minutes or less away from being formally introduced as the reigning champion of the Manalo Conference. And, adversely, in the faint few moments before his induction, Ash Ketchum is suddenly overcome with a strange bout of nervousness.

Why would he doubt himself, even for a second…? In what can almost be considered a trial run of a new league branch, does his win even count? What does the weight of the gold-glinting trophy in his arms mean for him and his next journey…?

Perhaps sensing the sudden tension in his trainer’s shoulders, Pikachu kneads his sharp claws into Ash’s shirt, the young boy flinching from the minor pinch of pain in his flesh.

“Pikapi…” the electric mouse starts, nudging him affectionately in the jaw, “chu kachu pika?”

“It’s, uh… it’s nothing,” he replies breathlessly, his fingers burning, paling as they strengthen the grip on his trophy. “I’m just… It’s weird but I’m okay.” And he does what he can to blink away the uncertainty swarming after his statement.

This is stupid.

“What’s going on, Mr. Pokemon Master?” a rather sharp whisper snakes into his right ear, causing him to jump from its sudden intrusion into his consciousness.

“Oh. Misty.”

He says it like he’s forgotten her existence, or at least as if he’s forgotten the fact that she and Brock had bothered to take even more time away from their homes and their duties to see him compete in Alola’s league.

The redhead squints suspiciously at him in the low light, hands tucked behind her back throughout the course of her once over as she leans in ever closer. He thinks she must be angry at him for his previous tone. Little does she know this whole thing isn’t about her at all.

“You look anxious.”

…. Okay, so maybe she does know.

Well, at least the basics. There’s no way she knows him well enough to see the internal battlefield overrunning his mind.,, right? Not taking the risk, Ash Ketchum does what he’s prone to do when Misty Waterflower happens to touch a nerve.

Deny. Deny. Deny!

“No I’m not.” Shame that such an intense and unfamiliar emotion seems to have taken control of his vocal chords, and the three word assertion sounded much more panicked than he’d intended.

“Why are you anxious?” she asks, not accusatory, rather genuinely curious… It’s a bit perturbing if he’s being (again, internally) honest.

“Like I said, I’m not! I dunno where ya got that idea, Mist.”

This reply does him no good. Not only has he learned over the course of the past few years of knowing her that the redheaded trainer is unlikely to give up when she finds a debate worth pursuing but also it draws the attention of the rest of their group of friends.

He clears his throat, turns quickly on one heel, averts his gaze to the navy curtain before him. Lips clamped tightly shut, he hyper focuses on a streak of glitter in the fabric. There’s no way he’ll admit a darned thing!

“Ash,” she asks more softly now, gaze sober, “what’s going on?”

Even though it feels like her voice is trying to peel him open and unveil the truth, the moment is interrupted by the bellow he’s been dreading - er, expecting - for the past several minutes.

“And now it brings me great pleasure to present before you our first ever Alola champion trainer, Ash Ketchum!” Professor Kukui shouts, the hanging drawing suddenly open wide enough for the young boy to step through.

But he doesn’t. Or rather, with an attempt at dislodging the sudden mass forming in his throat, he staggers a few measly inches forward. But no further.

“Ash…?” Misty mutters affirmatively from somewhere just behind him, clearly frustrated by his lack of boldness. The next thing he knows, he feels a palm and fingers spread across the small of his back, and he’s lunged the rest of the way into the spotlight.

“C’mon! You’ve earned this!” Comes the follow-up declaration of sharpened fervence and - oddly - that’s all it takes to wash all the turbulent negativity and apprehension away from him.

He grins at Pikachu through tightly drawn lips before his mouth opens wide in a whoop of joy, the trophy lifted as high as his scrawny arms can carry it as he takes off running towards the professor.

He doesn’t have much time to think about where his boundless glee stems from in all the building excitement. He doesn’t have the attention span to split between his induction speech and the tingling bundle of nerves at the low center of his back where Misty had previously physically supported him. He doesn’t even have the consideration to think in the moment that it’s worth thanking her for her vote of confidence.

But instinctively, because he knows Misty as well as she clearly knows him, he’s sure she wouldn’t tell him he deserved something if she thought otherwise. That not her style, he’s certain. So if she’s backing him up here, it’s because she’s aware of his (and his Pokemons’) efforts, believes in their strength.

And honestly, there’s nothing in the world more capable of allaying his uneasiness than her telling him exactly what he needs to hear. Especially when he’s not sure what that is until she says it.

… Not that he has time to think about that.

#pokeshipping #flash fic #fanfiction #aaml #ash x misty #requests #word count: 1294 #Anon

35 notes · View notes

not-close-to-straight · 5 years

Text

Secret Santa Shenanigans (Stuckony)(One)

This one is for @ceealaina who wanted Stuckony falling in love at Christmastime. This is a news station au featuring super hot weatherman Bucky Barnes, goofy sports reporter Steve Rogers, and station manager Tony who is just done with all of their shenanigans.

PART TWO

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

“Well that’s it for weather today.” The screen behind Bucky faded to a calm outdoor scene and he turned towards camera three. “Looks like snow which looks like a whole lotta fun, so stay warm, New York.”

His signature closing— a crooked grin and charming wink that never failed to make any and all women in the room swoon just a little bit— and the camera swung back towards the sports desk, pausing at Steve while the big blonde sent Bucky a look and asked, “Isn’t it nice to have such a perky weatherman? What on earth would we here at Channel 8 do if Bucky had gone to college instead of deciding to pointing at fluffy clouds on the screen all day?”

“Oh I dunno, Stevie.” Bucky shot back without ever breaking eye contact with the camera or losing his benign smile. “What would we do if your phone didn’t let you Google sports stats right before you announce them on TV?”

“Thank you, Steve and Bucky!” Sam interrupted, and the camera panned to the main anchors desk. “Always love that winter weather report with Bucky Barnes, everyone stay tuned for Sports—“

“I think you mean Google!” Bucky called from off-camera. “Right? You mean Google?”

“Sports with Steve Rogers.” Sam’s left eye twitched a little but that professional smile didn’t budge an inch. “This is Channel 8 news, we’ll be right back.”

“We’re clear!” Someone shouted as the broadcast went to commercial and the news team relaxed for all of five seconds before the station manager headed their way.

“Sam, beautiful as always but you got a little schmutz right here.” Tony pointed at Sam’s cheek and news anchor snapped his fingers for make-up. “Pepper darling, I love your blouse, you look fantastic in pale purple, but you’re sort of disappearing on camera, maybe a scarf?”

“I have one in my bag!” The co-anchor said brightly and Tony blew her a kiss before moving on to the more problematic members of the Channel Eight news team.

“Bucky.” He said with a sigh and the brunette turned around with a smile that had no business being so flirty.

“Tony.” Bucky looked the station manager over in interest, lingering over the way the red shirt fit across his shoulders before eyeing the flattering cut of the black trousers. “How you doin’? How come you only come over lookin’ like you’re gonna get me in trouble, you ever thought ‘bout comin’ over just to say hi?”

“You’re not in trouble, I just have a quick note before we go back on air?” Tony steadfastly ignored the urge to flirt back with the gorgeous weatherman, despite the way Bucky’s grin bordered on indecent. “Stop blowing bubbles with your gum, it’s distracting and it interferes with the audio when you pop them.”

“I got a fan letter last week saying blowing bubbles gave me an impish charm!” Bucky protested. “My viewers expect me to be cute and playful, how’s a man gonna be cute and playful without blowing bubbles?”

“Your viewers also expect you to know how to tell the weather forecast.” Steve sauntered over from the sports desk and gave Tony an equally interested once over before sidling close enough to pat Bucky on the ass. “But we forgive your lack of brains because you’re just so gosh darn adorable.”

“Rogers, for someone who has obviously take steroids for years in an attempt to look even somewhat athletic, you’d think you would know that basketball has fouls not penalties.” Bucky retorted, smacking Steve’s hand away from his rear. “But we’ll forgive that because you’re so gosh darn All American.”

“Okay okay okay and also.” Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “Things are less strict here at Channel 8 than the other stations, and for the most part I love it. I know all the flirty crap you guys do on air makes our viewers fan girl or whatever, and our ratings are sky high and we are one of the highest watched broadcasts in the state--”

“Not hearing a complaint, Tony.” Steve said easily, reaching out to grope Bucky again and getting flat out rejected by an elbow to the gut. “Ooph, easy on the goods, doll.”

“Ain’t nothin’ good bout you, punk.” Bucky muttered, and pushed his hair out of his eyes to ask, “What were you gonna say, Tony?”

“Bucky.” Tony pointed a stern finger at him. “You cannot call Steve out during a live broadcast for having to google the stats. And Steve--” pointing at the big blonde. “For the love of all that is holy stop googling stats while we’re on the air!”

“Sorry, Tony.” Bucky muttered, folding his arms petulantly and Steve echoed, “Yeah, sorry Tony.”

“Moving on.” Tony cleared his throat loudly when it looked like Steve was going to lean in and kiss Bucky right there in front of him. “Please stop doing that, thank you. Alright, the Secret Santa name exchange is happening after the broadcast so make sure you stick around, yeah?”

“Oh sure thing, sweet thing.” Bucky winked and Tony hated himself for blushing. “I’ll stick around for you.”

“Anything you want, Tony.” Steve deepened his voice until Tony blushed harder and they both laughed as the station manager cursed and stomped away.

“Make sure you get my name for Secret Santa.” Steve said then. “I need a new blu ray player.”

Bucky snorted, “If I pull your name for Secret Santa, I’ll jump off the building. Ain’t buying you shit.”

“But then you’ll come over right?” Steve goaded. “Right? Gonna jump off the building and then come over so I can pound that ass into the--”

“THE MICS ARE ON GENTLEMEN!” Tony shouted from the back of the room and over at the main desk, Pepper started laughing.

“Ugh.” Bucky covered the mic on his shirt with one hand and lowered his voice. “Yes, Steve after I jump off the building, I’ll come over for some pounding.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Steve grinned at him. “Coming in for an inappropriate work kiss, too fast, you can’t stop me!” he smacked a loud kiss on Bucky’s cheek and then jogged back to his desk as the countdown to get back on the air began.

Bucky rolled his eyes in the general direction of the sports desk and the ridiculously hot blonde that was his sometimes-booty-call and wondered how hard it really would be to get Steve’s name for Christmas. He didn't know if a new blu-ray player was exactly on the list, but he’d like to get Steve something...something that maybe said they should move from just hooking up to something a little more serious.

Steve sat back behind his desk and sorted his notes for his sports segment, side-eyeing his almost boyfriend and thinking about the very expensive watch he’d bought a month ago and then hid in his top drawer because he was a damn coward and didn’t know how to pretend the gift was just platonic, when in fact it was anything but platonic.

Maybe he could ask Tony to give him Bucky’s name for Secret Santa and then the gift wouldn’t seem so extravagant and out of the blue.

As the countdown ended and the camera zoomed in on Sam for a recap of the news so far, both Steve and Bucky peered past the cameras to keep an eye on the too-cute-for-his-own-good station manager and secretly hoped they’d each get his name too.

Then, in Steve’s earpiece-- “Steve for fucks sake, put your phone down if you don’t know the score from last night’s game by now, you’ll never know it.”

“Shut up and study the cloud types, weather-man.” he muttered, then turned a mega-watt smile to the camera. “I’m Steve Rogers, and this is Sports on Channel 8.”

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

Tony had to physically steady himself when a quiet knock on the door brought the insanely hot weatherman Bucky Barnes right into his office.

Every damn time he and Bucky were in this room together Tony got vivid flashbacks to the previous Christmas when someone-- most likely Pepper-- had hung mistletoe above his desk as a joke. Bucky had walked in the door much like he was doing right now, had looked up at the mistletoe and then down at Tony and before Tony could even breathe, Bucky had kissed him senseless. Big hands in his hair, an unfairly muscled body wedged against his own, a moan that was practically a growl--

-- and then the bastard had pulled away with a wink and a laugh and sauntered back out the door as if he hadn’t just fueled the next six months of Tony’s uh-- self- gratification.

And Tony had felt bad for day dreaming about it, had felt bad for enjoying it so thoroughly, had felt bad for ages because he knew Bucky and Steve were together or at least sort of together but damn. Damn how was he supposed to forget a kiss like that?

“You look like you’re thinkin’ awful hard.” Bucky teased. “Am I interrupting something important?”

“Nope.” Tony steeled himself against his rather errant thoughts and forced a hopefully bland smile to his face. “What can I do for you, Buck?”

“Well I was wonderin’, since you’re in charge of the Secret Santa and all--” Christ, even when he was being awkward Bucky was cute. “--maybe you could see to it that I get Stevie’s name in the drawing?”

“It’s supposed to be random, Bucky.” Tony said flatly. “Random. My control extends to putting all the names in a hat.”

“Right, right.” Bucky nodded in apparent agreement but then tipped his head and smiled shyly. “But you’re the boss, ain’t ya? Can’t you make sure a little holiday magic happens?”

“Tell me, Mr. Barnes.” Tony went back to scribbling names down. “Do you only bring that Brooklyn voice out when you want something?”

“Is it working?” Bucky asked hopefully.

“Holiday magic? Oh my god.” Tony pointed at his door. “Leave me alone and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Sure thing.” Pleased that he’d pretty much gotten his way, Bucky glanced around the office and then up at the ceiling. “No mistletoe this year?” A wink that nearly devastated Tony where he sat. “Damn shame that.”

It took Tony a full two minutes to catch his breath after that little interaction and his heart rate had just barely calmed down when the door opened again and Steve walked in.

Kill me.

“Tony.” Steve had a grin that would put a Cheshire cat to shame and he turned the full force of it on Tony as he leaned over the desk. “What’s it going to take to make sure I can get Bucky’s name in the Secret Santa?”

“What part of random don’t you people understand?” Tony poked at Steve’s finger with his pencil until Steve gave him some more space. “I don’t have any control over who gets which name, it’s all luck of the draw.”

“But you’re the boss.” Steve cajoled. “Can’t you work a little--”

“Holiday magic?” Tony finished. “I gotta tell you, it’s feeling less like holiday magic and more like bah-humbug right about now.”

“What if I sweeten the deal?” the big blonde waggled his eyebrows coaxingly. “Hm?”

“Nobody wants anything you’re offering, Rogers.”

Steve made a show of rolling his shoulders, flexing those over sized arms. “Aw c’mon Tony, we both know that’s not true. Why don’t you loosen your tie a little and let me take you out for a drink? We can test my bribery skills.”

“Go away and go bother Bucky.”

“You wound me Tony.” Softly, damn near honestly if those blue eyes wouldn’t have been sparking with laughter. “You know you own my heart.”

“Out, Rogers!”

Steve laughed all the way out the door, ducking when a pen winged by his ear, the station manager having had enough of his shenanigans for one day.

“Did Tony just throw something at you?” Bucky was already posted up in the break room and halfway through a foot long sub when Steve showed up. “You better be careful, he’ll bump you down to janitor and let me have your job too.”

“You need to be more than pretty to work an actual desk, Buck.” Steve took the sandwich and scarfed down a big bite. “It’s not exactly pointing at clouds and guessing temperatures.”

“Whatever.” Bucky took his sandwich back with a scowl. “How hard can it be? You do it. I got a smart phone to google shit too.”

“Boys boys.” Sam stripped off his tie and tossed it over a chair as he went for the soda machine. “You’re both pretty and both pretty useless. No reason to argue over it all, just a waste of good quality oxygen.”

“He has a valid point, loves.” The always beautiful Pepper came in next, a sunny smile for the three men. “But listen, before Tony gets in here we need to figure out what we are getting him for Christmas. He puts up with enough of our crap--”

“And by our crap she means your crap.” Sam supplied helpfully and Bucky scowled at him.

“-- so I’m getting him a nice bottle of imported scotch, Sam has a connection for season tickets, the least you two can do is hefty gift certificates, do you understand?” She finished. “And I do mean hefty, we all remember the five dollar Starbucks card fiasco from last year, let’s not do that again.”

“Sure thing, Pepper.” Steve and Bucky chorused, and then to each other-- “We should get him a terrible gag gift.”

“Oh definitely. Definitely a terrible gift.”

“I’m gonna get you something real stupid if I get your name too.”

“Ditto.” Steve nodded, and then quieter, “You’re coming over tonight, right?”

“Only if you feed me after.” Bucky crammed the last bit of his sandwich in his mouth. “Not gonna come over unless there’s food.”

“The fuck I will.” Steve argued. “Last time you ate an entire pizza!” and Bucky snarked back-- “Okay, but only after I got you off twice so you know, I earned that shit.”

“Hey guys.” Sam grimaced. “Learn to whisper, huh? If I have to listen to anymore of this my ears are gonna start bleeding.”

“Attention attention!” Any snappy comeback from Bucky or Steve was silenced when Tony finally got to the break room, holding a bowl full of folded scraps of paper. “Here we go, Secret Santa. Price limit is fifty bucks this year, don’t tell anyone who you got, and you really aren’t supposed to swap but I don’t care all that much.”

He shook the bowl at them. “The colors mean nothing at all, I had a bunch of different colored sticky notes that got used, there’s only two green ones though--” he widened his eyes meaningfully at Bucky and Steve. “-- so no one fight over them.”

Tony set the bowl down and drew a name first, then backed up to let everyone else have a turn, smiling to himself when Steve and Bucky both picked up a green piece of paper.

Dorks.

Damn, he sort of loved them.

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

#ncts fics #stuckony #stucky #tony stark #bucky barnes #steve rogers #sam wilson #pepper potts #christmas commission

260 notes · View notes

janeykath318 · 6 years

Photo

#my fics #kircus #Jim Kirk x Carol Marcus #Cinderella AU #Jim x Carol

11 notes · View notes

victorluvsalice · 6 years

Text

Forgotten Vows Friday: Fixing You -- Creating A Wonderland

Just wrote what I think is a pretty cute section, so I figured I’d share it with all of you! We all like sneak peeks, right? :) This is set just post the climax, with Victor having defeated the last of his issues and freed one of his mental constructs from a pretty awful fate. He and Alice are discussing why his mental world currently looks like Burtonsville -- Alice suggesting that it might be because he felt that, since all his problems kind of started in Burtonsville, they should end there as well -- and as he expresses the desire for the place to look like it did after he took down the wall in “Remembering You,” he suddenly has a thought. . . (Obviously, some spoilers ahead, but without the full context I don’t think they’re that spoilery.)

"Maybe." Victor ran a finger along the window sill. "It – it kind of reminded me a bit of your Vale of Tears, last time," he added. "When I broke down the wall. That's what I'd like again. A forest full of pine trees, and little white flowers, and a clear flowing stream, and – and all sorts of butterflies–"

For no apparent reason, the skeletal butterfly he'd drawn on his invitation to Alice popped into his head. Victor had expected it to turn his stomach in remembrance of the awful Puppet-Hand Spider, but – there was something a lot lighter about the creature he'd sketched. Well, obviously, it flies, he thought with a little chuckle. But yes, it's more – fun, somehow. Maybe because I drew that with the intent of amusing Alice? Or maybe because it – it reminds me of the Land of the Dead. . . .

Alice tilted her head, watching him curiously. "You seem rather deep in thought all of a sudden."

"I just had an idea," Victor said, turning toward her. "I like the forest my mind came up with the first time – but wouldn't it be so much more interesting if the trees were blue?"

"What – like the forest we saw in the Land of the Dead?"

"Sort of! Only bright blue, just like the people," Victor said, waving his hand at an imaginary figure. "With the trunks twisted into shapes like tangled bones! And the leaves aren't just green – they're pumpkin orange, and royal purple, and lemon orange, and blood red! All those colors that I missed out on growing up! And there could be plants whose flowers grow in the shape of coffins, or mushrooms whose caps resembling grinning skulls. . .and the grass would be this brilliant, almost acid green, and the earth would be split by a huge river, that gathered into smooth pools for bathing, or tumbled down into giant ravines, spraying water everywhere as we jumped and floated down. . .and of course there'd be insects to find, crimson ladybugs and actual darning-needle dragonflies, and those butterflies that look like a pair of skeletal hands. . .oh, Alice, you wouldn't believe how many different kinds of butterflies I came up with when I was a child!" he cried, clasping his hands together.

"Try me," Alice said, grinning at his enthusiasm.

"No, really! You had the bread-and-butterflies, but I had just butter-flies – actual flying sticks of the stuff! And ones that glittered and shimmered in the sunlight like they were covered in tiny mirrors, or ones that glowed like I've heard fireflies do at night, rainbow-winged ones and ones as black as midnight. . . ." He flung his arms wide. "Even ones that were big enough to ride! I always dreamed of one day making my way to the Amazon or the African jungles to find a species no one had seen before – could you imagine that, Alice? A jungle of twisted vines and high leafy trees, absolutely full of butterflies! We could even bring in your nutterflies – and maybe some of the other insects too! Rocking-horse flies and snap-dragonflies – though I think I couldn't resist actual dragon-flies," he confessed with a sheepish rub of his neck.

"So long as they don't set the place on fire, I'm game," Alice said, giggling. "You've put a lot of thought into this."

"Oh, I'm just remembering all the places I used to go as a child – oh hey!" Victor pointed at his counterpart. "What about the old wizard's magic tower? Remember that?"

"Not really," the other Victor said, smiling. "I wasn't around until you were about fourteen."

"It was wonderful – a huge tower reaching high into the sky, surrounded by a swirling vortex of multicolored clouds," Victor elaborated, looking between Alice and the other Victor. "All the plants around grew in funny shapes, and he grew bleeding hearts and roses and other bright red flowers in alchemical circles. There was a big library inside, full of books – sort of like Elder Gutknecht's, only on the bottom couple of floors. And then there were rooms for brewing potions, or practicing spells, or studying magical creatures. . .and at the top, the wizard's personal study, looking out across it all." He wrapped his arms around himself. "I had a big purple blanket I liked to pretend were my official robes – I tried to paint stars and moons on it once, but Miss Johnson caught me and made me scrub them off."

"What a shame," Alice said, patting his arm. "I would have let you do it."

"I know you would. If we'd known each other as children, I bet you would have done it before me."

Alice conceded the point with a giggling nod. "Was there anything for music?" she asked. "Only I know how much you love the piano, and you've compared it to a tamed beast before. . . ."

"Not as a child. . .but why couldn't I have a musical land?" Victor asked the room at large. "You could have weeping willows drooping with piano keys, and violin bushes, and daffodils that really honk! And maybe you could even see the music – it flows through the air like the characters in the Mysterious East. Or you could smell it when you go to sniff a flower, or taste it when you eat a piece of fruit. . .oh, and I've even got the perfect name! Orchestralia!"

Alice snorted. "You and your puns! Though I suppose it's better than my 'this person is a hatter, let's call him Hatter' approach to naming things."

"If it makes you feel better, I can't think of a better name for The Magic Tower," Victor told her, grinning. "And if I have a world for music, I should have one for drawing too. The river could turn to ink there, and maybe all the trees and houses and such are paper pop-ups, and the inhabitants 'talk' by writing their words like annotations around their heads. . .ooh, and if I wanted to do painting as well, I could have big lakes of watercolors, with brush reeds, and birds made from quill pens, and. . . ."

He trailed off, noticing both Alice and his other self were staring out the window. "What?" he asked, following their gaze.

And gasped. The town square, in all its underwhelming gray glory, had vanished, along with any other trace of Burtonsville. Instead, tapping at the glass were bright blue branches tipped with orange and yellow leaves, spreading out above a carpet of grass so green it was almost unreal. Blue roses shared the earth with bleeding hearts and skull-capped mushrooms, with bone butterflies clack-clacking their way from blossom to blossom. A calm little stream gurgled its way through the trees near the horizon, while in the distance, a waterfall roared an invitation to float down it into some mysterious valley. Victor pressed a hand to his heart, almost overcome with joy. "Wow. . . ."

"Very impressive," Alice agreed, taking his hand. "I think you just needed a bit of a run-up to get everything started."

#forgotten vows friday #fixing you #fanfic #sneak preview #hopefully the last one before I start officially posting!#just two more chapters to go #but I really wanted to share this bit #since it's all about Victor creating his own Wonderland #his gushing was utterly adorable and I had to run with it #part of the inspiration for the forest is the Forest Kingdom of Nier: Automata #I saw that place and was like 'oh wow this looks awesome'#'Victor would totally like this place'#especially since he gets all excited about learning how to quad-jump and float earlier in the story #such a cutie :D #I really do need to do more with these domains #some sort of story must be written #AFTER I complete this one though #queued

2 notes · View notes

starlightchild6 · 7 years

Text

Confrontation (Part 9 of ??)

Okay, here’s where the story starts getting deep. This part and at least the next two after it are very heavy and very emotional. There’s serious subjects being discussed, and if you’re not in a place you can handle that, then please don’t read this right now. If you need to talk with someone, please text the Crisis Help Line at 741-741.

Missed a part? You can catch up here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

We never discussed what happened that night. Mainly because I had very little spare time anymore. With prom drawing closer, I was constantly being pulled more and more into helping with all the planning. The more we planned, the more frantic Katie became about making sure we didn’t miss anything.

I eventually started zoning out occasionally as she’d babble on and on about tiny details we had already rechecked multiple times. This had the result of getting me in the occasional hot spot.

“Lils! You’re coming, right?” Katie asks as soon as I walk up to my locker

“Coming where?” I’m thoroughly confused now.

“Dress shopping, duh. Remember? We’re all going after school today?” Ah. Yes. That. I hadn’t figured out a way to gracefully bow out of that trip yet. Seeing Katie’s hopeful face and Emma’s practically terrified one at the thought of being left to Katie’s mercies, I can’t help but say yes.

Katie squeals and claps her hands, while Emma breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” Emma whispers. “I’m not sure I could handle shopping with just her and Jess.”

“No big. I’ll help run interference so you don’t get overstimulated.” I assure her. Emma smiles more, pushing her glasses back up on her nose.

“I appreciate that. I haven’t had a meltdown in a while now, and I’d like to keep it that way.” she smiles.

“Okay so we’ll all meet at Jess’s car after last bell!” Katie hops up and down in excitement. “Don’t forget!”

I assure her I won’t and text Jeremy on the way to English to let him know the change in plans. He sends back three words.

Haha. Good luck!

Traitor. I tuck the phone away as I enter the classroom. Mr. Evans is pretty lax about phones as long as we’re not actively ignoring the lesson, but no need to tempt fate.

Class flies by as we discuss the latest piece assigned for reading, and all too soon, the last bell rings and it’s time to face my doom… I mean, meet the girls to go dress shopping.

I make a pit stop by my locker to stash the books and hurry out before Katie comes looking for me. I’m still the last one to arrive and climb in the back with Emma as Katie and Jess discuss where to go.

“Why not just head to the mall?” Emma suggests, effectively quelling the building argument before it begins. Everyone agrees and Jess cranks up the radio as we leave the parking lot.

We spent the entire ride singing along to whatever came on. Country, pop, rock; it didn’t matter one bit. We just sang. Or rather they sang and I listened. Least until Don’t Stop Believing came on.

I don’t care who you are or how bad you think you sing. When that comes on, you’re a small town girl and you belt it out.

Needless to say, we were in high spirits when we arrived at the mall. First stop: the local formalwear boutique. Katie and Jess practically flew into the store to raid the racks, while Emma and I followed at a more sedate pace.

“Does anyone have a general idea what they want to wear, so we can divide and conquer?” I ask everyone.

“Mermaid.” “Sheath.” “Umm...simple?” I just shake my head and help Emma search for a simple uncomplicated dress.

We’re all running back and forth to the dressing rooms within minutes. I’m doing most of the running, exchanging sizes for everyone and snapping photos as they pose in each dress.

Jess and Katie treat the dressing room hall as a runway, sashaying down to where I’m perched on a chair, laughing my ass off. Each one trying to outdo the other for the most outlandish pose they can. Even Emma joined in a few times, though nowhere near as wild as the other two.

“Shoot, has anyone seen my phone?” Jess is rifling through her purse after the latest catwalk. We all shake our heads.

“It’s not in your jeans still?” Emma inquires. Jess checks and shakes her head.

“Must’ve left it in the car. Darn it.” Jess looks down at the dress she’s trying on. “Someone unzip me so I can change back to go get it.”

“Or I could go get it.” I offer. “Since, y’know, I’m the only one who’s not wearing sparkly floof.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, Star.” Jess hesitates as she mulls it over. “It’s my fault for leaving it out there in the first place.”

“It’s fine.” I insist. “Here, just give me your keys. I’ll run back out and grab it out of the car and be back before you can change back into your clothes.” I must have managed to talk Jess around because she hands me her keys with an admonishment to not take a joyride around the parking lot. I roll my eyes and head out of the store.

I’m back at the car in no time, and sure enough, there’s her phone, tucked away in the center console. I swear that girl is worse than me when it comes to forgetting stuff. And I’m pretty damn bad about it.

Easy peasy errand though. Lets them keep shopping for dresses too. Faster they’re done, faster I’m not surrounded by sequins and tulle. That stuff drives me crazy. Way too much floof. Oh well, back into the mall I go. Out of the corner of my eye, I see blue lights flash behind me just as I reach the sidewalk.

Aw, damn it. It’s Darren. I should have known. He’d use any excuse to harass me.

I stand my ground and keep my face neutral, yet inside I’m shaking as the police cruiser pulls over and the door opens.

“Well well well, if it isn’t the little runaway.” He stalks forward to sit on the hood of his patrol car. “I’d be well within my jurisdiction to take you into custody, right now.” He murmurs, crossing his arms.

“What do you want, Darren?” My voice is flat. Of all the times for this to happen…

“Tsk, tsk, Lillian. That’s no way to speak to me. And after all I did for you.” He smirks. I don’t rise to the bait, keeping a close watch on every move he makes.

“What do you want?” I repeat.

“What do I want? Well to start with, I want you to never have existed. You’ve brought such embarrassment and shame on your mother and me, with all your problems. And then running off like you did… it’s grounds to have you arrested for truancy and sent away to a group home. And arrest whoever you’ve shacked up with too.” He leans forward. “Is that how you found somewhere else to stay? By spreading your legs for someone? Such a slut, Lillian.”

I’m trying my best to hold my composure and not let him see how much his words sting. Darren’s like a shark that’s scented blood and doesn’t let up.

“I’m surprised you’re not knocked up yet, the little slut you are. Or is he too repulsed by how you look? The scars must turn him off so much. Does he know? That all you are is an attention whore? Slicing up your skin just to make everyone look at you?” He comes closer and I freeze.

“Why don’t you just go ahead and kill yourself? See if anyone really cares about you.” He sneers, cold eyes fixed on mine. “Newsflash: no one does. Especially not your mother and me. Go ahead, do us a favor. Remove yourself from being such a burden on us. It’s the least you can do.”

I’m trembling at this point and choking back tears. He just smirks more. “That's what I thought.” I can do nothing but stand there as he gets back in his car and drives away.

Is he right? Am I just a burden? On my friends? On Jeremy?

Maybe I should just leave after all.

#multipart #abuse #child abuse #emotional abuse #harassment

0 notes