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#you’ve got an hour to attempt to redeem yourself movie
cup-ah-jho · 3 years
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I really enjoyed how Sweet & Sour started as a cute romance with an unconventionally attractive male lead, but why did he have to slim down? He was perfectly fine at the beginning!
Also, if the guy graduated in computer engineering, why the HELL is he working a structural engineering job? Those are two different worlds! And dude, if you’re building a bridge over a stream, there’s a LARGE chance you’re going to be in the floodplain! Where the hell is your water resources team to tell you that it’s not designed for a flood event?!
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pennylanefics · 3 years
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Broken Trust - Theo Raeken
a/n: i’ve had this in my wip’s for a little and never had the inspiration to finish it until recently :) if anyone has more ideas for theo, i’d love them!!
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•••
“I don’t care about how long we’ve known each other and how long we’ve been together! You killed Scott!”
“I had to!”
“No you didn’t!”
“Listen, I’m not gonna argue with a human about supernatural business that you have no idea about.”
Things with Theo had fallen out. He just attempted to kill Scott and admitted to using you to get close to the pack. Obviously, you were upset and immediately broke things off.
“I don’t know about the supernatural? My best friend is a werewolf and has been one for years! He told me from the beginning and included me in everything! So yeah, this human knows enough about it.”
“Then you wouldn’t be wondering why I did what I did. Shit happens. Sometimes you have to do things for your own pack.”
“Exactly. You have a pack! So why do you have to come in and ruin ours?!” Theo laughs evilly and pushes you aside to grab his bag.
“Like I said, you wouldn’t understand from a supernatural point of view. I’m not dealing with this anymore.”
“Good, because I never wanna see you again!” Theo stops in his tracks. Sure, you had been fighting for the past hour or so, and it was clear things were over between the two of you, but you saying it outright that things were completely finished got to him.
“Really?”
“Yeah. You betrayed my trust, the trust of my best friends, killed one of them, sent another to Eichen, and continue to put me down simply because I’m human. Why’s it so shocking that I want nothing to do with you anymore?!” Theo stares at you, tears in his eyes, the first time you’ve seen him cry. Well, genuinely cry.
“I-I guess that’s fair.” He says nothing as he packs his things and walks out of your room. Before he closes the door, he takes one last look at you.
“You know, I never lied to you about us. I really do love you, I’ve loved you ever since the summer before senior year. I know it’s hard to trust me after everything I’ve done, but trust me on this. My feelings for you were real.”
With that, he shuts the door and leaves your home, not to return again.
You didn’t see the pack much after the break up. You knew he was still around and trying to get into the pack. But Scott understood and kept you up to date on things anyways. That’s how you found out Theo was gone for good when he was dragged into the ground by his sister.
After that, you started helping the pack again, and they were happy to have you back. You and Kira grew closer as friends as she was there for you as a shoulder to cry on and go to for comfort. She knows what you are going through and was more than happy to talk you through things. She was there for you when Liam resurrected Theo, and when you tried attacking the young wolf for doing so.
Since his pack from before was gone, as were the Dread Doctors, he didn’t have one, so, Scott being Scott, allowed him to redeem himself and gain trust back. But this meant you were out of the pack again; you still wanted nothing to do with him.
You heard from Kira, Scott, and Liam that he’s been asking about you ever since he got back. The one thing you made sure was that they didn’t say a word about you to him. They were okay to just say that you’re doing fine, but nothing else.
Now, it’s been a couple months and the situation within Beacon Hills had yet to be solved. Unbeknownst to you, Theo had been sleeping in his car due to not having anywhere else to stay. You were usually his home away from home, a place he could go when he had nowhere else, but that wasn’t the case.
After being told to move his car for the seventh time, he decides on one last place: your house. It’s late at night, close to midnight, as he pulls into your driveway. Both of your parents’ car and your car were gone, so he figured he was safe.
Around 12:30 in the morning, Kira pulls up in front of your house to drop you off.
“Thanks for picking me up,” you say, gathering your things. “Didn’t expect my car to break down in the middle of the night.”
“It’s alright. I didn’t want you to be stranded out in the middle of the woods with everything going on.”
“Yeah, no shit. I’ll see you on Monday. Thanks again.” You exit the car and before you make it up the steps to your door, Theo’s truck catches your attention. You recognize it right away, having spent lots of nights cuddling in it to get away from both of your parents. Your favorite time spent together was when you would go to the lookout in the woods and just cuddle in the back, especially during the rain.
You slowly approach it and turn on the flashlight on your phone. You see that he’s asleep in the back, curled up in a blanket, looking very uncomfortable. You softly knock on the window, hoping to catch his attention.
It doesn’t work, so you knock harder, and this gets him.
“Oh come on! I’m in a driveway!” He sits up, ready to move, but when he sees that it’s you, his expression drops. You raise your eyebrows at him and he opens the door for you, letting you in.
It’s awkward for a moment before he starts talking.
“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” he says, keeping his eyes forward. “I’ve dealt with so many police officers and state troopers kicking me off of properties. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks.”
“Why are you sleeping in your car anyways?” He chuckles and tugs his blanket further into his lap.
“I’m homeless. I have nowhere to go. Scott doesn’t trust me still, neither does anyone else, besides Liam, though he’s still weary of me. And it won’t be easy explaining to his mom why some random guy from school that’s been gone for months has to stay with them.”
“What happened to your parents?”
“They, uh, moved away after I was dragged underground.”
“I don’t blame them,” you mumble under your breath. He hears this, obviously.
“Just let me stay in your driveway for the night and I’ll be gone and out of your hair.”
You finally look up at him and notice he looks a little different. He’s matured, his features changing slightly to make him look grown and older. His hair was longer, and all you could think of was running your fingers through it while he lays next to you.
“How about I let you stay in the guest room for the next couple nights, if you want?” You offer. He raises his eyebrows at you in shock, not expecting you to be so kind and understanding after not seeing him for so long.
“You don’t have to do that, (Y/N), I-”
“As much as I hate you, I hate the fact that you’re sleeping in your car with nowhere to go. We don’t have to speak to one another, we don’t have to see each other, just come inside for the night and you can be on your way.”
He remains silent for a moment, trying to find a way out of it, but it did sound nice. A warm, comfortable bed, with an actual comforter was so inviting, so he finally gave in.
“Thank you,” he whispers, gathering his things and stepping out. You hop out and run to the door to unlock it, so he can walk in when he’s ready. A few moments pass before he appears at the bottom of the porch with his bag of clothes and his cover.
“You know we have plenty of covers, right?” You say, closing the door behind him.
“I know, but it’s kind of like a sense of security at the moment. I don’t have much, but I do have these.” You smile and lead him to the guest room, right across the hall from your room.
“Let me know if you need extra pillows or any food or drinks.”
“Could I have a glass of water? I’m not hungry at the moment, I just wanna sleep.”
“Yeah, settle in and I’ll be right back.”
You couldn’t believe Theo was back in your home, and you were talking to him. Since he left, he’s the only thing you thought about, but part of you meant what you said: you never wanted to see him again. But the other part longed for him, the intimacy you shared, the love you felt for him, or thought you did.
After filling the glass, you pause for a moment to collect your thoughts and come to terms with what was happening. Finally, you, grab the glass and head back upstairs.
“Here you go,” you hand him the glass. By now, he had gotten comfortable under the covers and was already half asleep. But he sits up and takes the glass from you, chugging most of it right away.
“If you need anything else, I’m right across the hall.” With that, you awkwardly walk out of the room and get ready for bed in your own.
The next morning, you wake up and walk to the kitchen to make some breakfast. But, last night comes back to your mind and you remember that Theo is sleeping in your guest room.
You head upstairs to see if he would want some breakfast as well, but when you knock on the door and you receive no answer, you step inside. He is still fast asleep, you assume because he hasn’t slept properly in weeks.
You leave him be and make food for yourself. The rest of the afternoon, you got some chores around the house done, read a couple chapters of the book you were reading, and finished a movie.
Theo walked downstairs around 1:30, rubbing his eyes from sleep. You could tell he just woke up.
“Morning,” he mumbles. You chuckle and walk into the kitchen with him.
“It’s way past morning. You slept for thirteen hours,” you tell him. He shrugs and takes a seat at the table. “Do you want some lunch?” He looks at you hesitantly, wondering why you were being so nice to him.
“I can get going, I don’t want to be a bother,” he says, standing to head back upstairs.
“Theo, you don’t have to go. I know we didn’t end on good terms, but I can tell you’re tired and sleeping in your truck isn’t comfortable in the long run.”
“But you loved spending nights with me in it, running away from our parents,” he laughs, sitting back down. You laugh with him and for a moment, you forget about all the horrible things he did.
Being around him again reminded you of how much you truly loved him, pack business and everything supernatural aside.
“The pack misses you, you know,” he says, breaking the silence. You lean against the counter and sigh softly.
“I still keep in contact with them, just not with pack stuff.” He nods and stares at his hands awkwardly.
“I miss you, too,” he whispers.
“Yeah, Kira and Liam told me that you were asking about me when you returned.”
“Because you’re the only person I wanted to see. I didn’t care about making things right with Scott in that moment or even helping them with what they needed me for. I wanted to see you and fix things.”
“What’s there to fix, Theo? You broke my trust, you lied to me, you-“
“I may have lied to you about my intentions with the pack, but I never lied to you about my feelings,” he suddenly stands, facing you. His voice held so much heartbreak and passion, and you could feel his sadness.
“How do I know that?” He steps forward and takes your hand, placing it on his chest so you could feel his heartbeat.
“I know trusting me may not be possible, but I need you to know that whenever I told you I loved you, I meant it.” His heartbeat remained steady, and the tears in his eyes proved his point. Or was he just really good at lying and guilt tripping.
“I still don’t know, Theo,” you murmur, your own eyes filling with tears. He steps back and more tears fall down his cheeks.
“Okay,” he whispers sadly. He walks out of the kitchen, ready to go back to living in his truck.
His words replay in your head, along with all the memories you two made together. Thinking over things, you realize that he never brought up supernatural and pack business around you. He never told you his plan to betray Scott until you learned about it from Stiles.
He always made sure that your time together was YOUR time. It was a real relationship, Theo never asked you about Scott or Stiles or Liam, he never was willing to talk about the pack or supernatural business, mainly because he didn’t want you involved with whatever he was doing. He didn’t want you to get hurt and he also didn’t want you to think he was trying to use you to get closer to the pack.
After a couple minutes of thinking back to moments in your relationship, you decided that his heart was in the right place, and you ran off to make things right.
Running into the living room, you find Theo getting ready to walk out the door, but you appearing in the room stops his action.
“Fuck it,” you whisper, running straight towards him and crashing your lips to his. He stumbles back, shocked at your sudden action, but kisses back just as passionately as you.
“Please don’t leave,” you mumble against his lips.
“But you said before that you couldn’t trust me,” he breathes, pulling away.
“I know. But after thinking over all the times we spent together, I see that you really do love me for me, and not to get closer to Scott and everyone else.” He nods and caresses your cheek with his thumb.
“Using you was never my intention. I really did fall for you. I fell for you before I even knew you were friends with them. Then after I found out, I felt horrible and tried to keep them out of our relationship as much as I could.”
“I know,” you giggle, kissing him again. “I now see that, Theo. So, please stay with me? I really missed you.”
Theo smiles fondly and you lean into his touch.
“I missed you too, baby. Of course I’ll stay.”
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prettyboybarzal · 4 years
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i like us like this // jamie benn x reader
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summary: jamie benn is the worst blind date you’ve ever been on, and yet he somehow manages to redeem himself.
word count: 5k
author’s note: please enjoy!! (kinda got writers block in the middle of this and had to power through so i hope it’s still as good as i wanted it to be🥴) as always i would love some feedback <3333 
“I want to set you up on a blind date,” Gab said, settling down onto the couch with you. Your groan and the exasperated sigh of her boyfriend, Tyler, in the kitchen sounded simultaneously. “Enough of that,” she grumbled, “and that.” She pointed a warning finger at Tyler. “Let me set you up, pleeeeease.”
“Gab, I’m going to be honest,” you sighed. “I don’t think I’m ready.”
“But how do you know?” she asked. “It’s been over a month.”
“It’s been a month and three days,” you argued. “That’s hardly over a month.”
Gab grunted, turning her back to pout in the direction of the television.
The room went silent again as Tyler settled onto the couch beside Gab and tugged her under his arm. You enjoyed the few minutes of silence as the movie she threw on started. You knew that it wouldn’t last long. Gab didn’t go down without a fight, so you were just waiting for her to start pushing for the date again.
It took all of twenty minutes.
“One date,” Gab pushed. Tyler laughed. “It’s with Ty’s best friend, too!”
You looked at her, then over at Tyler. He shrugged.
“Fine.”
If Tyler was friends with this guy, he was probably okay.
The plans were made for the following Friday night. Jamie texted you to confirm that picking you up around 5 would work, which you agreed to, and then he sent the restaurant’s website. That’s when you started freaking out.
“Gab, I do not belong at a restaurant like this!” you yelled as you stormed across the apartment and into her room. She was already smiling when you entered the room. “It’s a five-star restaurant. I eat in our university’s dining hall when I want to eat out! I don’t have clothes for this!”
“Sure, you do,” Gab said. She stood up and tugged you back to your bedroom. As she sifted through the closet, you watched in dismay. It took her all of five minutes to locate the slip dress she was in search of. A little red thing that you’d worn during undergrad once to a date party with your ex.
“The odds of me fitting into that are slim,” you mumbled. Gab rolled her eyes, throwing the garment at you anyway. She tossed herself onto the bed and motioned for you to put it on. And, once the dress was on, you were proved wrong.
“You look hot.”
“I do,” you admitted, staring at yourself in the mirror. Gab laughed. “Time check?”
“You have an hour.” 
Jamie showed up right on time with a knock at your front door. He was wearing a white button up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and your eyes immediately found their way to the definition of his muscles and the tattoos on his skin. He was handsome. Certainly your type in the way of looks. You made a mental note to tell Gab she definitely knew your taste in men.
“Nice to meet you, YN,” he said as he leaned in to place a kiss to your cheek. His hand rested against your hip, and you tried not to think about how large he was compared to you. “You ready to go?”
“Yeah, I’m starving.” 
Jamie offered one more smile before taking your hand in his and leading you out of the building to his car. You took one peek at the way his hand engulfed yours and decided that unless his personality really sucked, you just might invite him in for a night cap at the end of the night.
The restaurant was incredible. Each table had a pristine white tablecloth across it with candles beside a small arrangement of flowers. Jamie pulled out your chair as soon as you got to the table and, when the waitress came over for drink orders, he ordered the most expensive red wine on the menu.
The date started out great. But, as soon as the food came out, the conversation fell flat.
He asked about school, prompting you to explain your graduate degree program in a total of fifteen minutes. So, naturally, you asked about his career. What you weren’t expecting was the rant that came after.
At the mention of the upcoming season, Jamie’s shoulders seemed to tense up and you couldn’t quite understand why. And, after he grumbled about how frustrated he’s been with the preseason games and practices, he tried his best to move on and talk about something else. It just didn’t happen.
Jamie felt horrible. He hadn’t meant to let it all out like that, but he’d been so busy preparing for the season that he couldn’t think about much else, despite the beautiful woman across from him. He wasn’t an idiot. He caught on to your non-verbal cues that this wasn’t going quite as well as expected. He knew he wasn’t going to get a second date, and he was never going to hear the end of it from Tyler and Gab.
After dinner, Jamie dropped you off at your apartment. He got out of the car, swinging your door open for you in an attempt to salvage the disaster of a date you’d just been on. You smiled at him and fell right into step as you walked up to the building.
“Can we be honest with each other?” You had come to a full stop in front of the building. He nodded at your question, brown eyes studying your face as he waited for you to speak again. “I think you’re really great, and we get along well. But, I don’t think this could work right now.”
Jamie let out a soft tuft of breath and said, “Agreed.”
You had to resist the urge to roll your eyes. Was he always this short and terse? Did he have a personality outside of his career? It was getting harder and harder to understand why Gab would set you up with this guy.
“Okay, well,” you murmured. “It was nice meeting you, Jamie. Thank you so much for dinner.”
“It was no problem,” Jamie answered. He nodded towards your apartment building. “You sure you don’t want me to walk you up?”
“Yeah, I’ll be okay.”
Jamie nodded, a faint smile gracing his lips only for a moment, before he turned away and began the walk back to his car. You turned your back as well and began to mentally prepare for the onslaught of questions from Gab.
“How’d it go?” she asked as soon as you walked through the door. “Will there be a second date?”
“No,” you answered, dropping your sweater over the hook near the door. Gab pouted, looking upset with herself for not picking a better match. You reached out and tugged her into a hug. “It was an okay date, but we both agreed that it just won’t work.”
“What is it? Was he mean to you?” she asked, eyes wide. “Tyler said sometimes he can get a little bitchy.”
“No, it wasn’t that,” you responded, giggly at the thought of Tyler calling his captain ‘bitchy’. “I don’t know, Gab. He just seemed a little on the edge, cranky, serious. He talked about hockey the entire time, which is fine but he just sounded miserable. Also, I didn’t laugh… At all.”
“Seriously?” she asked. She seemed surprised, which shocked you. “I really thought he’d be a good match because his sense of humor is a bit like yours.”
“He really had me in the first half,” you admitted. “Like, Gab, he’s cute as hell. But, the conversation was a downer.”
“Yikes.” That voice didn’t belong to Gab. It belonged to Tyler who had just rounded the corner from Gab’s bedroom. He leaned up against the wall, arms crossed in front of him, and said, “Chubbs is never gonna live this one down.”
“Tyler, if you say one word to him of what I said,” you began. “I’ll kill you.” He laughed. “I know which shampoo and conditioner bottles are yours in the shower. Don’t tempt me.”
Tyler put his hands up in defeat.
“You have my word.”
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You saw Jamie a few more times after that date, and each time you exchanged nothing more than ‘hello’, ‘goodbye’, and some polite conversation in between. You were thankful that the date didn’t create an awkward tension between the two of you, and you were super thankful Tyler had kept his promise to keep his mouth shut.
About a week before their season officially began, Tyler planned a party at his house. One last hoorah before the season started to get really busy for him and the boys. You went along with Gab, as usual, excited to see some of the girls you’d gotten to know through her and Tyler.
Tyler’s house was almost filled to capacity, and you’d lost Gab hours ago to the dancefloor or Tyler’s bedroom. It didn’t really matter. You were about three drinks in and feeling yourself.
You slipped into the kitchen to make your fourth drink a little after eleven. It was empty, which was surprising, but you didn’t question it and immediately went in for the liquor. You were pouring a vodka Sprite for yourself, with a heavy hand on the liquor when Jamie’s voice spoke up from the entrance.
“I heard you don’t think I’m funny.”
You spun on your heel, nearly knocking the Vodka over behind you as you did so.
“I told Tyler no to say anything,” you grumbled. Jamie raised an eyebrow at you as he settled into a stool at the kitchen counter. “If he shows up to practice bald next week, don’t be surprised.”
“Actually, Gab told me.”
“What?” you asked. “Why did she tell you I said that?”
“She yelled at me,” he said. “Told me that I fucked up.”
“Jesus.”
“S’okay,” he murmured. He walked over to where you were standing, and grabbed a cup from beside you. “I think maybe I did. I spent way too much of that date talking about myself.” Your cheeks warmed at his admission, and the tension seemed to roll off his shoulders. Suddenly, he was grinning from ear-to-ear. “What are you drinking?”
“Vodka Sprite,” you answered, turning to face the drinks with him. He nodded, eyes scanning the counter filled with liquor. He grabbed the Vodka, then the Sprite with a satisfied smirk. You laughed. “Copycat.”
“Where’ve you been all night?” he asked. “I saw Gab a while ago before her and Ty slipped down the hallway, but I haven’t seen you.”
“I was with Roope for a while,” you answered, eyes glancing toward the doorway. Jamie put the Vodka down and glanced at you with a raised brow. You returned his gaze.
“He’s a little young for you, no?” he asked. You stared at him, blank faced and shocked that he’d said that. And then he grinned. “I’m kidding!”
“Oh! He can joke!”
“Here we go,” he mumbled. He finished up his drink and took a sip from it. He leaned his hip against the counter, jabbing a finger in your direction. “I’ll have you know that I’m actually very funny. I think I was just having an off night.”
“Well, then, how’s tonight looking for you?”
“Good, I think,” Jamie answered. He looked down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Why don’t you hang around me and find out?”
For some reason, you chose to do as he asked. You spent the night by his side, being tugged from the beer pong table to the living room couch, back to the beer pong table. And, much to your surprise, Jamie was making you belly laugh almost the entire time. He seemed looser, happier that night. The weight of prepping for the season had finally been pushed aside, and he was ready to start the season off on a good foot.
Maybe Gab was right about setting the two of you up.
A little after midnight, you stepped out onto the porch with a water bottle in hand. The sliding glass door opened behind you and Jamie stepped out to join. He walked over to where you stood by the railing and leaned his back against it. He turned his face to the stars.
“I like you like this,” you murmured. Jamie looked back at you, his facial expression unreadable for only a moment before a smirk split his face. “You’re a lot more relaxed. Some might even go as far as saying you’re kinda funny.”
“Thank you,” he said with a laugh. You giggled, looking back out at Tyler’s backyard. Jamie turned as well, bumping your shoulder as he did so. “I’m sorry about our date, by the way.”
“Oh, it’s fine,” you murmured. He shook his head.
“It’s really not, YN,” he urged. “I was a complete dick. I couldn’t put my stress away long enough to get to know you, and I was mad at myself for days after.”
“Mad at yourself?”
“So mad,” he repeated. You laughed, dropping your face into your hands to stop him from seeing your blush. He kept talking. “You looked so good in that red dress. And you were so sweet, and funny. And, oh my God, I couldn’t get over how cute you looked when you were admiring the restaurant.”
“I don’t go to five-star restaurants often!” you exclaimed. Jamie barked out a laugh. “It was such a nice restaurant.”
“Yeah, it’s my favorite,” he murmured. He took another sip of his drink. “Did you like the wine, though?”
“Yeah, Jamie,” you answered. “I loved that wine.”
You stood out on the deck with him for a little longer, chatting about everything but hockey. He asked you questions about your degree and your family and how you ended up living with Gab. He told dumb stories about Tyler that made tears come out of your eyes.
“I like your laugh,” Jamie whispered after you managed to stop laughing. You looked up at him, heart pounding in your chest, and smirked.
“Yeah, I bet you like it now that you’re the reason for it.”
“Hey!” he exclaimed. And then you were laughing again, and he made a promise to himself to keep getting you to laugh like that. “Would this Jamie get a second date?”
“I mean, he could definitely try,” you said, playful smile still on your lips.
“What are you doing this Tuesday?”
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And, so, you went on a second date with Jamie. And then a third, and a fourth.
Each date was a date. Like, dinner reservations at fancy Dallas restaurants that you’d never even batted an eye at on your graduate student budget. Jamie remembered what you said about how you’d never been to a five-star restaurant, and he decided to make that a thing of the past. Gone were the Netflix dates you used to have with your ex. Jamie made sure to treat you right.
But he was also taking things way too slow.
He kissed you goodnight after your second date, and then both hello and goodbye on the third.
It wasn’t until the fourth date, and an entire bottle of wine, that you got that goodbye make out. In your past experiences, it never took this long to get a guy in bed. And, yet, Jamie hadn’t even tried.
So, on your fifth date and after about three weeks of talking every day, you had to ask.
“You’re not seeing anyone else, right?” you asked, coming to a stop three steps away from your front door. The question had been at the forefront of your mind all night. Maybe he wasn’t sleeping with you because he was getting it somewhere else.
“No,” he answered. His eyebrows drew together in concern as he thought over your question. And then his eyes widened. “Are you seeing anyone else?”
“No!”
Jamie smiled and reached out to tug you into him. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you up against his chest. His free hand wrapped around the back of your neck and pulled your lips to his. Just before kissing you, he murmured against your lips, “Good.”
You reveled in the feeling of his fingers when they laced through the hair at the back of your neck and the way his other hand slid down the curve of your ass without a care for who could see. And, when he sucked on your lower lip, Jamie nearly lost it at the soft moan that fell from your lips.
He swore he would have kept kissing you in that hallway for hours, not a care in the world. And you felt the same.
When you finally pulled away, mostly for a breath of fresh air, you leaned your forehead against his with a sigh. Jamie chuckled, tilting his head to place a kiss against your cheek.
“Remember when you didn’t want to go on another date with me?” he asked, pulling away completely. You nodded, the redness of your cheeks giving away your embarrassment about not seeing what was right in front of you that night. He took your hand in his and walked toward your apartment door.
“Don’t get too comfortable, Benn,” you warned teasingly. “My midterm exams are coming up. I’m about to be swamped, so our next date might have to wait.”
“We don’t have to do dinner, you know,” he said, leaning against the wall beside your door. “If you’re grabbing coffee and studying somewhere, I’d come by to see you for a little impromptu date.”
You eyed him skeptically, doubting that it was something he’d want to do. In your eyes, Jamie was still too good to be true, and he was a professional athlete. Once he saw you in your natural, stressed out student habitat, the glimmer was going to fade. You had yourself convinced.
“Maybe,” you said before leaning forward and kissing him goodnight. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
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It took all of one week for you to cave. You spoke to Jamie almost every day, and even that wasn’t enough. You wanted him near you, close, and he wanted the same. He made it known every single day. So, you caved. You invited him to meet you at the Starbucks around the block from your apartment building with one rule. He couldn’t distract you while you studied.
That morning, you shuffled around your room looking for something that was comfortable enough for studying but also cute enough to impress the new man in your life. But, you were quickly reminded that you haven’t had to impress any guys in a while. Damn long-term relationships.
You ended up throwing on joggers and an over-sized t-shirt with a pair of slip-on Vans before slipping out your apartment door with your backpack.
Studying started out okay, but you could feel Jamie watching you from the opposite side of the booth. You wished you could read his mind, figure out what he was looking at you for. Did he think you looked too much like a bum? What did he think of your glasses? They weren’t exactly trendy anymore.
You were trying your best to ignore him, and the questions in your head, despite the overwhelming desire to lean over and kiss his smirk off his face. But, when you saw him reach across the booth and felt him tug the earbud from your ear, you knew your concentration was going to go down the drain.
“What?”
“I like you like this,” Jamie said. Your heart skipped a beat, and then you remembered saying those words to him just a month prior. Your cheeks turned a light pink beneath his gaze.
“You like me like this?” you asked, motioning to the lazy day outfit you were in. “Stressed out?”
“No, not stressed out,” he answered with a chuckle. “You look good, even if you are stressed.”
“Jamie, I haven’t showered in two days,” you admitted. He barked out a laugh. “Dry shampoo is my best friend.”
“That’s what that smell is?” he teased. You ripped a piece of paper out of your notebook to crumple it up and throw at him. He shifted out of its way. “I’m kidding, YN.”
“I know,” you mumbled. You redirected your attention to the textbook in front of you, and began reading again. Jamie stayed for another forty minutes, alternating between reading his book and watching you.
He did really like the way you looked sitting across from him in that coffee shop. He liked that you weren’t as put together as he usually saw you, and to him it meant you finally had your guard down. He liked the way your hair was gathered in a bun on top of your head and he thought you looked cute as hell in those glasses that sat on the bridge of your nose.
He might’ve even said he liked this look more than those slip dresses and heels you wore out to dinner. But, then again, those were sexy as hell too.
Jamie was beginning to wonder if he’d ever find a side to you that he didn’t like.
When it hit noon, he decided it was time to go and grabbed your hand from where it rested on your books. You looked up at him, tugging one of your earbuds out as you did.
“I’m leaving,” he said. You couldn’t stop yourself from pouting in response. He let out a soft groan and leaned forward to place a kiss against that pout. When he pulled away, he stood to leave, grabbing his things with him. “When you’re done with these exams, we’re going to celebrate.”
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“96!” you exclaimed into the phone as you fell back onto your bed. “I got a 96 on my last midterm exam.”
“That’s awesome, babe,” Jamie murmured into the phone. “And right on time, too.”
It had been a week and a half since the last time you saw Jamie at the coffee shop. Between your midterm schedule and his game schedule, time didn’t allow for date nights. You kept each other off the ledge through texts and quick phone calls, chatting about the plans you wanted to make when your schedules freed up again.
Jamie promised to celebrate as soon as your exams were done, and he pulled through. He’d planned for everyone to come by his place that Friday night. The fact that your last grade came back before the pregame began made his plans just a little bit sweeter.
He picked you up not long after your phone call, and brought you back to his place where some of your friends were already waiting. Gab and Tyler showed up not too long after your arrival and the pregame was in full swing.
After making your rounds, you found Jamie in the kitchen. He was pouring himself another drink when you approached, wrapping your arms around his waist to pull his back into your chest. He chuckled softly.
“You know you didn’t have to get everyone together for this occasion, right?” you asked. Jamie nodded as he turned to face you. “Like, it was just my midterms. The semester isn’t even close to over.”
He reached up to cup your cheeks, and leaned in to place a kiss against your lips. When he pulled away, he said, “Doesn’t matter to me. I’ll celebrate you like this during finals, too.” 
Your heart fluttered at his tone of voice, and the way he was looking at you. You felt like the only girl in the world with the party in the other room was momentarily forgotten.
About an hour later, you were in the VIP section of a club and wrapped up in Jamie’s arms, literally. He went all out, as usual. You were quick to tell him he didn’t need to do things like this, and he was quick to kiss you quiet.
“I want to do these things for you,” he murmured against your lips as he walked you backwards towards the dancefloor. He spun you in his arms, and you happily pressed your back against him as you danced to the music blasting from the DJ booth.
This was the closest you’d ever been, save for the few make-outs in his car after dinner but even then, the center console was always in the way. Right then, there was nothing preventing Jamie from touching you, holding you close. Except maybe all the people in the club, and that damn dress you were wearing. He wanted it off.
His fingers slid down your thigh, brushing along the hem of your dress, and you were putty in his hands. You turned, taking his chin in your hand to pull him in. You kissed him like you were the only people in the club, even with Tyler and Gab’s hollering beside you.
You hardly made it back to your apartment that night. You were both so giggly drunk when you stumbled into the cab. As soon as the cab’s door closed to the outside world, Jamie’s hands were all over you. He tugged your legs over his lap and pulled you close to kiss you, one hand resting between your thighs just above your knees.
His touch lit your skin on fire.
You made out the entire way home, the entire way up the elevator, only stopping when you had to open the door to your apartment. Even then, Jamie’s hands rested on your stomach and his lips pressed up against your neck and your shoulders, any inch of skin it could touch.
“I’m proud of you,” he murmured against the shell of your ear. You sighed happily, turning the key in the door’s lock and pushing the door open. “Even if it was just midterms.”
You laughed at the way he mimicked your voice, then slipped out of his grip. Your heart was pounding from nerves and excitement. This moment felt all too real. You’d been wanting to go farther, wanted him in bed the first night you met him. But now, right as it was about to happen, you were a bundle of nerves.
“You hungry?”
“Little bit,” he answered, following you into the kitchen. He leaned up against the counter as you sifted through the frozen foods you’d stocked up on for drunken nights like these. “The team nutritionist is going to hate me this season after spending all this time with you.”
“Well, then, you should stock my fridge up with healthy things then,” you stated. Jamie chuckled and took a step forward to wrap his arms around your waist. Your search for late-night snacks was momentarily forgotten as he brushed the hair from your neck and placed a kiss against your skin.
“Why don’t we,” he started. He kissed the space just below your ear before continuing, “just look for snacks later?”
You turned in his arms, dropping your own arms around his shoulders. He smiled down at you as his eyes studied every bit of your face. You sighed softly, lifting one hand to run through his hair.
“I like you,” you whispered. He grinned. “A lot.”
“I’m crazy about you,” he responded. Jamie picked you up, and your legs wrapped around his waist immediately. He asked again, “Snacks later?”
“Sure.”
Jamie carried you to your bedroom, dropping you onto the mattress with a laugh before his lips were back on yours and his hands were sliding up your thighs. Your dress was gone in seconds, and then you helped him out of his own clothes.
Jamie took his time, admired every bit of your body. He didn’t want to forget any of this moment. He was crazy about you, every piece of you, and he was thanking his lucky stars that you agreed to go on a second date with him after the dumpster fire of a first one.
“I like us like this,” you whispered into his ear a few minutes after you finished. Jamie’s lips ghosted the skin of your collarbone as he peppered kisses along your skin to your shoulder. He looked up at you, brushing the hair out of your face before placing a kiss against your lips.
“God, me too,” he sighed. “I really like us like this.”
You burst out giggling as you laced your fingers in his hair, and Jamie watched you. He was completely enamored with you, everything about you. And then he started laughing with you because who wouldn’t?
“Do you want a snack now?”
“Did I not just have one?” he asked, glancing down at your naked body still pressed up against him. You laughed.
“That was awful,” you told him through giggles. Jamie chuckled, nuzzling his face into your neck as you continued to make fun of him. “I’m not just a snack. I’m a damn meal, Jamie Benn.”
“Don’t I know it!” Jamie exclaimed, rolling onto his back. You laughed. “Alright, let’s get snacks.”
“Okay, okay,” you mumbled. You stood up and grabbed his shirt, throwing it on like a dress. “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
Jamie was sitting on the counter with two pints of ice cream in his hands, waiting for you. You nudged yourself between his legs, sighing happily when he handed one of the pints to you. The apartment was silent and Jamie had wrapped his legs around your body to keep you close to him.
After a few minutes, Jamie spoke up, “I like us like this, too.” You smiled up at him. “Just for the record.”
“Me too,” you agreed. He leaned down and pressed a kiss against your lips. “I like us all the time.”
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lenfaz · 6 years
Text
Sea Squad, ch. 1 (1/14)
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Summary:  Killian Jones has always managed tough spots in his con life... but never like this one. His brother is out of jail and convinced the only way to win his name back is to heist the casino of a major Vegas mogul, leaving Killian to do the planning. He now has to deal with a half-brother desperate to gain a name of his own, an ex-fling that carries her own torch against the casino mogul, his brother losing his mind over his ex-wife,  his former mentor's depression and the one woman he can't get out of his mind giving him chase. Ocean's Eleven AU
Rating: M
Content warnings: semi-explicit sexual content, law-breaking (they are thieves, liars and con men), mild violence (someone will get punched), mention of former relationships (for the main pair) and cheating (but not for the main pair)
Banner  (link to banner post) and art by the amazing @clockadile Go check her art tag for the fic here!
This fic would never exist without the wonderful @sambethe who convinced me to do over hot chocolate on one cold Chicago afternoon and virtually held my hand and betaed this fic for months. thank you SO much for everything you do.
A/N: A long time ago there was talk about Hook & his sea friends and a few collective posts shaped the idea of a Sea Squad. This fic is the attempt to bring that creativity to life. Tagging @queen-mabs-revenge   @thesschesthair   and @jvosketches as they were part of that initial thinking back in the day. If a few things sound familiar, it’s because they are based on the movie.
Link to  FFnet & AO3
Chapter 1
“Court Case #358765”
Three men sat behind a table, a manila folder lay open on it as they passed the sheets of paper that made up his file between themselves. They seemed to be taking their sweet ass time, reading thoroughly through each of the pages as if he were not sitting there, waiting for his life to change based on their decision.
Part of him wanted to huff in impatience, but he knew he shouldn’t. He had to be on his best behavior, as he’d been all this time. If this didn’t come through, it would be a long while before he got another chance at this. He’d endured so much without losing his temper, he just needed to hold on a little bit more. Just a little more and he’d be out of this godawful place and back to where he needed to be.
“Mr. Jones, this meeting is to determine whether or not you’re likely to break the law again if you’re released on parole. While we have your records of good behavior here and note this is your first convicted offense, your records indicate that there is reason to believe you’ve taken part in other fraud schemes. What do you have to say for yourself?”
His lips curved in a smug smirk. “I would say that allegedly I’ve taken part in other schemes. There has been no proof or conviction, darli- ma’am”. He caught himself at the very last moment and forced himself to lose the smirk and put on a sheepish smile. He needed these people on his side. He needed them to believe him.
He cleared his throat, lowering his head a little before he faced the panel again, a self-deprecating smile coming to his face. “I know you’re wondering why I did the things I got convicted for. I trusted the wrong people. I thought I was walking into an honest deal and I found myself in the middle of a crime I hadn’t meant and didn’t want to commit. Everything spiraled downhill from there - my wife left me, I had ended up in a dark place. The first few weeks in prison were not easy. But I’m doing better now and I want to redeem myself. I want to do better, get my life back on track, see my brother.”
He paused for a moment, letting the words sink in, trying very hard to build a momentum. “I - I want-” his voice faltered and he cleared his throat, tilting his head to the side in a lopsided smile. “I want to do the right thing.” He delivered the words with solemnity, as if he were taking a vow for a life commitment… he could only hope they’d buy it.
They did.
A few hours later, he stood in front of a mirror, tugging his cuffs and adjusting his shoulders. He felt as if the suit was bringing him back to the man he once was. The small gold band sitting in his jacket pocket felt inordinately heavy though, and he took a beat to look at his reflection in the mirror. His chin was now covered in scruff that he’d taken to grooming only every few days, and his brown hair seemed darker now and was clearly in need of a trim as it curled at the ends. But his money-making smile was still there, and his blue eyes still were able to pull the earnest puppy stare that had brought him so many good moments in his life.
With a deep breath, he pulled the ring out of his pocket and slid it on his finger, where it belonged. It has always belonged there, and he had every intention of keeping it that way. Turning around, he knocked on the wall and then slipped his hands into his pockets.
A guard came down and escorted him to the exit, his steps dragging next to him. He faced him before opening the final door between him and freedom.
“Ready for your new life, Mr. Jones?”
“I’m ready.”
Stepping out of the minimum security correctional facility, he vowed to himself that he’d never come back. They caught him once, shame on the ones that had betrayed him. If they caught him twice, it would be a shame on him. And he’d make damn sure that would never happen. He had plans for his life, and they didn’t involve another stint in jail.
Liam Jones was going to get back what belonged to him.
And a few other things that didn’t.
/-/
There was always comfort in the little details. Standing in the middle of one of the many casino’s main floor in the city, he took a moment to close his eyes, take a deep breath, and let it all sink in. The buzz of hundreds of whispered conversations, the clang of the coins pouring from the slot machines, the roll of the dice against felt, the distinct sound of the ball skipping along the roulette wheel. They each came together in a perfect cacophony. Combine them with the smell of liquor, cheap perfume, sweat, and cigarette smoke that not even smoking restriction laws had been able to completely eradicate, it produced an ambience that Liam loved like the second home it was to him.
Opening his eyes, Liam scanned the room trying to find what he was looking for. He couldn’t find it, but it was ok… he could kill some time at one of the tables and let the story unravel itself. He was sure that if he didn’t find her, she will find him.
He sat at one of the tables, reaching into his pocket to pull a couple of crumpled hundred-dollar bills. He had beaten a poor fool at pool in one of the pit stops on his journey to Atlantic City, getting himself a few hundred bills that he now needed to put to work if he wanted to have some sort of steady petty cash to support him for the next few weeks.
His fingers traced a pattern on the felt and the feel of the soft texture under his fingertips send shivers down his spine. He was home. Or as closer to home as he’d ever been. He tilted his head, letting a lazy smile coming to his lips as he looked at the croupier calling for the bets. He tossed a few chips and waited.
The croupier smiled to the table - that flirty I’m on your side half hidden smile that had naives fooled - and she started to deal the hand.
Liam’s mind woke up, sharpening with each whir of cards shuffling and being dealt on the felt. His eyes zeroed in on the table, his brain analyzing every bit of information about the game, every possibility and most likely outcomes. Like breathing, his mind drifted over different tactics and he made his move.
Nineteen. The house pulled eighteen.  Win.
Fourteen. The house ran over.  Win.
He put all his wins on the next bet. Black Jack.
Bloody hell, it was good to be back.
It wasn’t long until a second dealer showed up, a pit boss circling nearby like a vulture waiting for its prey. The new dealer smiled, arranging her hair to the side and showing up her cufflinks to the table before speaking. There was only a hint of nerves on her voice, but Liam could feel it. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, my name is Tina and I’ll be dealing for you.” Her eyes darted quickly in Liam’s direction, a warning hint passing fleetingly before she was back to her professional self.
Liam played with the chips, dropping them one by one on the felt as everyone else on the table made their bets. It was only him left.
“Sir, in or out?” Tina called, an eyebrow rising slightly at him.
Liam tilted his head and made tsk sound with the corner of his mouth. “Out. The table is cold anyway.” He flipped a chip with his thumb and the croupier caught it, a smile gracing her lips.
“You might want to try the lounge at the Olympus. I heard it gets interesting around one.”
Liam smiled as he stood up and buttoned his suit jacket. “I’ll be sure to check it out, thank you for the tip.”
At precisely one clock, he was nursing his glass of straight Macallan when he felt someone sitting next to him.
He smiled and tilted his head as he took a sip of his whiskey. “Fancy meeting you here, Tina.”
The woman next to him gave him a feline smile, her hand signaling to the bartender. “Ursula Mount couldn’t pass a gaming board. Tina Matthews definitely can.” She nodded to the bartender that placed her drink in front of her and took a sip before her eyes focused on him. “When did you get out?”
“This morning.”
“I see that you’ve come out a new man and all that,” Ursula offered sarcastically, her eyes drifting to the drink in Liam’s hand and his whereabouts.
Liam shrugged nonchalantly and tapped a finger on the newspaper that laid open next to him. “Just having one drink and catching up with current events.”
“I can save you some time on that: Gold tore down the Nautilus.” There was a hint of regret and sadness in Ursula’s voice, her eyes also dimming as she spoke the words.
Liam’s own eyes reflected that sadness, his head lowering down and he ran a hand through his hair. “How’s Nemo doing?”
“As bad as expected, an even a little worse. Dad called him, tried to get him to come here for a few weeks, but it was a futile attempt. I wouldn’t blame the man, as Dad is going through his own set of past-midlife crisis.”
“Is he?” Liam asked concerned. Things were not looking up for him with this news.
“He retired.” Ursula shivered as if the words were harming her. “Spends most of his time at the horse’s race, eating walnuts and claiming he’s going to buy a condo in Boca next year.”
Liam pondered her words. “That’s bad.”
“That’s beneath him… but he doesn’t seem to care anymore.” Ursula gulped down the rest of her drink and order another. “But I don't’ blame him. The business has changed for us. Too much technology at the ready, too many variables to control. Tangible assets are hard to find unless you want to start embezzling regular people out of their hidden savings.”
Liam shivered in disgust. “That’s just plain bad form.”
“I know… but banks are highly protected and even if you can get there, it’s all electronics any way. Other than the Federal Reserve… what’s left?”
“Casinos.”
Liam waited for two beats before he locked his eyes to Ursula’s. Her eyes had widened in surprise before she gave him a mischievous smile. “What are you up to, Liam Jones?”
He feigned offense. “Me? Nothing. I’m just a man who’s been given a second chance and intends to be a law-abiding citizen.” He cocked an eyebrow at her and Ursula, catching his meaning, quickly nodded.
Good. One done, more to go.
“All I care about at this moment is to reunite with my beloved family.” Liam played with the edge of his glass. “Do you know where he is?”
“Last I heard, he was down in L.A., teaching celebrities how to play cards.”
“You’re bloody kidding me,” Liam blurted out without being able to hide his contempt.
Ursula sighed and her eyes dimmed again. “He all but disappeared, and has made himself hard to keep track of. After Tuscany, he seemed to have lost his edge. And then you got caught and it seems he only went downhill from there. Without you, he’s been lost, Liam.”
It seems everyone - his friends, his mentor, his own brother -  and everything had fallen apart while he was sporting orange suits and mopping floors.
“Well, good luck I’m finally here to make you all find yourselves again.” He placed a few notes on the counter and stood. “I better get to work then.”
“Heading to L.A.?”
Liam nodded. “Right after I call my parole officer and promise not to leave the state.”
Ursula shook her head, a smile coming to her lips. “I’ll see you again, soon.”
Liam took her hand and kissed it. “I’ll send word.”
He turned around and left the bar.
Hang on, little brother. I’m on my way.
/-/
This could not be his life.
That was the mantra Killian Jones kept repeating to himself, his fingers working over the knots and numbness licking across the scar that wound along his left wrist and forearm. He massaged along the lines of the tattoo that covered the worst of it, but there was still some scarring visible.
Sweat slicked down his skin, pooling at his throat and along his brow. The heat and the humidity here were going to kill him. That was not an exaggeration, no matter what Liam might have said about him having a penchant towards the dramatic. His shirt was sticking to his skin, causing an itch to ghost at his neck and the small of his back. It was enough to make him want to book the first plane out of town. It didn’t exactly matter where, as long as it led to a chillier location where at least a thick sweater and a leather jacket would be needed to be near the ocean.
But he reminded himself that none of that mattered now.
Taking a deep breath that probably qualified as more of a sigh, he crossed the posh bar - with its dim lights, black lacquered furniture and chromed steeled decoration -, making his way into the back VIP room. He stretched his head to the side, straining the muscles of his neck as he took a seat at the round table. Five up-and-coming Hollywood celebrities sat around it, each of them smiling as they waited eagerly for his lessons on how to play poker magnificently.
Killian would be lucky if they remembered to deal to the correct side and how many cards made a hand by the end of the night.
“Alright lads and lasses, let the game begin.” He smirked at the table, his eyes scanning each of them as he dealt the first hand. One of the women - Katie? Zoey? They all look the same to him these days and none of them seemed worth the effort - batted her eyelashes at him.  She played coyly with her hair, curling a strand around her fingers as she leaned towards him, her eyes hooded and her voice laced with intent as she bent over the table and asks for the tenth time that night if he felt himself lucky.
Not a chance, lass.
For the next forty minutes, Killian tried - and failed - to teach any of these bloody buffoons the basics of poker. It was as if they couldn’t retain even the simplest of information or even attempt the most basic calculations. It was a miracle their agents hadn’t embezzled any of what they’ve made, and Killian was seriously considering a massive scheme of his own on them when they collectively decided it was time for a break and ordered a round of martinis.
Kale Martinis.
What hell had he entered when he agreed to this?
Unable to get away fast enough, he made his way to the bar on the main floor where he ordered a glass of rum with two ice cubes, swallowed it back in one gulp, and asked the bartender to refill the glass with a wave of his hand. He took a moment to hold the drink to his temple, willing it to soothe away the pounding headache that was forming above his right eye. He really needed to walk away from this dreadful existence. He lifted his eyes to the stage across the room, but not even the sight of the dancers, their sculpted legs, tight abs, and bright smiles, made him feel anything at all. He was numb. Everything in his life staking up as one dull moment after another, all blurring together with the flashing lights of the endless row of nightclubs and the stale smell of private poker games.
He needed out. He just didn’t know how.
The walk back to the VIP room felt like walking towards the gallows, his feet leaden, each step a monumental effort to take. His head hurt, his scars itched under his tattoo, and he simply didn’t want to be there. The voices within drifted through the open door, and he realized he must have been more tired than he thought because he was clearly hearing things. There was no possible way someone else would have joined the table. But when he finally entered the room, the sight before him made him freeze in place.
Liam.
It couldn’t be. Killian blinked - slowly, deliberately - just to be sure. But Liam was still sitting there when he finished, perched on a chair he’d pulled up to the end of the table, the smirk resting on his lips in only the way his older brother could do.
Bloody fucking hell.
Taking a moment to compose himself, Killian swaggered to the table. “I see we have company.”
“Oh, yes.” Tyler pointed to the ‘stranger,’ showing his cards to the table in the process. Killian shook his head in defeat.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Liam drawled. “I was told it was ok if I joined.”
His brother was up to something, and it only took Killian a second to catch up. “Not at all.” He reached for the deck of cards and leaned back, cutting and shuffling it with one hand in one swift move. He cocked an eyebrow at Liam. “It’d be good to have some competition.”
He dealt the cards and took a quick look at his hand. Two beats later, Liam made his initial bet of five hundred.
“Now, lads, remember rule number one of poker.” He looked around at the table, only to find all of his students looking blankly at him.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. He was done with this shit.
“Leave emotion at the door. The game should never be personal.”
“Your teacher here has a point.” Liam countered, tilting his head and giving the table his trademark smirk. He could see Katie/Zoey and Lili instinctively leaning closer to him, causing Killian to have to reign in the laugh that threatened to burst past his lips. “Neither should be pulling a job for the wrong reasons.”
He had him there, and Killian could only nod in turn. “Now… if I were to read this table at the moment, I would tell you that our friend here is diverting the attention. He made a big bet and now is sitting there waiting for you to call it. The question is… is he bluffing? A bet this strong in the beginning makes me think he is.”
“Maybe you should call it and see.” Liam’s soft voice carried a challenge that could not be denied.
Oh, his brother had always been good.
Killian called and the rest went in turn, some of them following his lead but a couple took the bait and raised the bet. At one point, Liam had to make KJ fold - even they couldn’t let someone who needed to change out four cards continue betting, there was such a thing as good form after all - and then raised the bet one more time. Heavily.
“Now,” Killian continued, “he could have a very good hand. Or he could be trying to buy his way out of his initial bluff.” He cupped his cards and tapped the bottom of them against the table. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, but let me tell you something my older brother once told me: A man not willing to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets.”
Liam raised an eyebrow at him. “Your brother is a wise man.”
“More like a self-righteous wanker,” Killian retorted. “But he’s family.”
He didn’t miss the way Liam’s eyes flashed before the action at the table broke the moment. Soon the pot was in the tens of thousands and everyone showed their cards.
Liam was the last. He seemed to fidget for a second before fanning his hand out across the table.
Four nines and an ace.
Killian grinned. Damn, brother, it’s good to have you back.
The game ended, the budding celebrity dilettantes exiting quickly out of the VIP room to take selfies, update their Instagram status, and work their social media footprint. Killian’s glare was enough to put off any requests for him to join in the pictures they wanted to post. After a few more handshakes and a promise that he’d let them know when the next game would take place, Killian finally left the club via the back exit. He didn’t want any more attention on himself. Craning his neck to the side and letting the tension lift from his shoulders, he searched the surrounding area until he found what he was looking for.
Liam was standing a few yards away, his hands in his pockets, artfully leaning against the stucco wall of the building across the way. Killian slipped over to stand beside him. Without even a sideways glance, Liam took his hand out of his pocket and handed him a stack of bills. His cut for tonight’s job.
“Teaching poker to celebrities? Really, little brother? How low have you fallen…” The humor in Liam’s voice almost brought tears to Killian’s eyes. He’d missed him so much, and it had been hell to stay away while he was in the joint. Liam had been adamant, though, that he didn’t want visitors. Not even Killian.
“I’m bored, Liam,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“I know you are and I have just the thing to snap you out of your funk.” Liam clasped his hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get out of here and I’ll buy you a drink.”
“Coffee,” Killian amended and chuckled at his brother’s raised eyebrow. “I assume I’ll want all my wits about me for whatever it is you’re about to tell me.”
“Probably.”
/-/
Killian sat across from his brother, the two of them occupying a hidden booth in the corner of a deserted dinner while he waited as patiently as he could for Liam to tell him the plan. But after a few minutes, it seemed his brother was still pondering how to start.
“Just bloody tell me, Liam.”
Liam sighed and ran his hand through his hair and Killian smiled at just how much he had missed watching that trademark Jones move. “It’s tricky and it would require a large crew that I need your help gathering together.”
“Of course you do.” Killian shrugged, as he leaned back and played with his saucer, rotating it on the plate with one finger. “I’m the charmer.”
“And I’m the brains.”
“I wouldn’t do that far, but let’s say you’re a tiny bit better than me at planning the big picture.” He held up his hand, holding his thumb and forefinger together. But only just a tad.” He wasn’t cowered by Liam’s glare. His brother could take the hit. “What’s the target?”
“Been to Vegas lately?”
Killian’s smile dropped. Surely Liam didn’t mean…. “You want to hit a casino.”
Liam shook his head, taking a sip of his coffee. “Not one. Three.”
Killian choked. “Are you out of your mind? We can’t take on three casinos.”
“Yes, we can, little brother. And we will.”
Liam pulled a folded-up piece of paper from his jacket and spread it open on the table. Killian leaned over to take a look. It was a floorplan. Killian studied it with the keen eye he was known for in the business.
“If I’m reading this right - and you know I am - this is the least accessible vault I’ve ever seen.” Killian’s fingers traced the floorplan, his mind scanning all the possible ways to bypass the security measures. “And this is only one casino.”
Liam pointed out two main ways in on the blueprint. “These two feed into the cages of The Gold and The Dagger. Every single dollar ends up in this vault. The vault of The Baelfire.”  
“The Baelfire, The Gold and The Dagger.” Realization dawned on Killian. Bloody hell. “Liam these are Gold’s casinos.” Leave it to his brother to go this route.
“It’s about time we hit him, don’t you think?”
Yes, beyond time as far as Killian was concerned, but he wasn’t convinced it was the best idea at this juncture. But a part of him couldn’t help himself, already jumping into planning mode and seeing the picture unfold in front of his eyes.
“How many people do you think we need? Seven or eight?”
“Hell, no. We need at least ten. And we need a variety of things happening at the same time.”
Liam crossed his arms over his chest.  “A Boesky.”
Killian mirrored his brother’s stance and tilted his head as he saw it all play in front of him. “A Jim Brown, two Jethros.”
Liam seemed to be envisioning the same picture he was. “A Miss Daisy and a Leon Spinks.”
“And the biggest Ella Fitzgerald in the bloody history of cons.” Killian sighed. “Unless you tell me you met a rich widow via letter while in jail, we don’t have the start-up capital to back this.”
“We don’t… but you and I know someone who would love to help us fuck Gold over.” There was something somber in Liam’s voice and Killian knew he had to address that eventually, but his mind was already going to the same place Liam was trying to steer him to.
“Nemo.”
It made sense that their former mentor would want to be part of this. Gold had managed to get Nemo out of the business, and tore down his beloved casino, The Nautilus, once he had. Nemo had spiraled down into depression ever since and not even Killian’s outrageous tales of the teen celebrities he was teaching were able to bring a smile to the man’s face. Maybe this was a step in the right direction.
But Killian still needed more. Something was not adding up. “I need a reason, Liam.”
His brother shrugged. “Eight figures each. That should be reason enough.”
No, it wasn’t. Not if they were going to risk so much. “Come on, Liam. Don’t tell me this is about the money. You and I can play safer schemes and make decent money. Probably not eight figures, but enough to grant us a good life.” His eyes bored into his brother’s. “Tell me why.”
Something dark flickered in Liam’s eyes and Killian had a keen sense of the man his brother had to become while surviving in jail. “Because I walked out of prison after losing two years of my life. Because you’ve gone adrift and it has gotten so bad that you’re teaching the latest TMZ headliners how to play cards. And you’re not even succeeding. Because it’s time we make Gold pay… and we hit him where it will hurt.” He paused. “Because no one messes with the Brothers Jones.”
Silence. One beat, two, and then three.
“Did I rush it?” Liam asked, his voice hesitant.
“No, it was a good speech. You were always good at motivational speeches.”
“What do you say, Killian? Shall we do this?”
Killian smirked. “Let’s go talk to Nemo.”
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Flicker of Hope
Chapter Seven: Intermission
A/N: Guys, please bear with me with this story. I work a job where I spend long hours there and I’m also trying to have a life. On that note, sorry it’s taken so long! Hope you guys enjoy it!
The pounding in your head is surely a punishment from the gods. Peaking one eye open, you glare at the too bright red numbers on the clock across the room.   
Groaning, you roll over and try to extract yourself from the covers. The moment your feet touch the floor, the night makes before comes rushing back in bright flashes. 
“God, what the fuck is wrong with me?” You quietly scold yourself. What on earth had you been thinking? Well, the obvious answer was that you hadn’t been. That was the only explanation for how you’d behaved and the things you’d said.
Groaning again, you drop your head into your hands. You had to find a way to fix this. To fix the damage you’d done.
It’s a struggle, but you force yourself out of the bed and into the bathroom. You turn the shower on as hot as you can stand and try to come up with a game plan.
Staring into the mirror, you take in your disheveled clothes and ratty hair. There are streaks of mascara down your cheeks, a reminder of the tears you’d shed once Niall had left you alone. The bathroom starts to fill with steam, so you quickly disrobe and let yourself be drenched under the spray. It’s probably too hot, but at this point, you don’t really care.
You settle in under the water, hoping it can rinse your body of all of the pain you feel.
Last night had not gotten the way you’d expected. The things you’d said to Niall...you hung your head down, using your arms to hold your tired body up against the wall. There was no going back from what had happened. You only hoped you could both move forward. 
Your hands and feet are pruned by the time you finally leave the shower. Mostly, you’d just wanted to scrub away who you’d been last night off of your body. 
Getting dressed, you steel your nerves and open the bedroom door. Down the stairs, you can hear the sounds of the tv, your sign that at least Niall is probably awake. Given the fact that he finally has some time off, you assume he’d want to lounge about as much as possible. 
Your descent down the stairs is slow and calculated as you attempt to make as little noise as possible. The kitchen is empty when you reach it, so you grab yourself a mug and fill the kettle with water. Pulling a bottle of Advil off the shelf, you down several of them. You’re not necessarily stalling, but you’ve got to find your bearings before you even attempt the huge apology you’re going to give. 
Laughter floats in from the other room and now you know it’s Niall and Mully hanging out. Catching snippets of their conversation, you give a small chuckle as Niall keeps making Mully tell him to fuck off.
When the kettle goes off, you jump, your brain had been so preoccupied you’d forgotten it. Finding your favorite tea in the cabinet, you quickly make your cup and blow on the top as you rummage through the fridge.
“Didn’t think we’d see you for a bit,” Niall’s voice makes you jump again and this time you spill a bit of your tea on the white tile. Turning to face him, you quickly avert your eyes and reach for the towel on the counter.
“God, such a klutz, sorry,” You say, kneeling down to wipe up the spill. Niall moves closer, leaning against the island and you can feel his eyes on you. 
“Never need to apologize for spilling a little tea, love,” He says and despite the fact that you’re done cleaning it up, you’re terrified to stand and face him. “Come on, it’s not a big deal. House keeper can get the rest tomorrow.”
His hand moves into your vision and you loosely grasp it as he helps pull you upright. He takes the towel from you, tossing it on the counter beside him.
Your hands grasp your mug again and you take a small sip, using it as an excuse not to look him in the eyes. His shirtless chest catches your gaze before you quickly divert it, not wanting to ogle your (hopefully still) best friend.
“Love—“
“Ni—“
You both start at the same time. You both chuckle and Niall reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck at the awkward silence it causes.
“Let me please,” You say, putting your mug down on the counter and finally meeting his eyes. “Ni, you know I’d never intentionally hurt you right? Everything that I said last night, I just,” You shake your head. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Honestly, I let Elle convince me of things that I should’ve just asked you about and then I had SO much to drink and now I just can’t even believe what came out of my mouth.”
Niall is stoic in front of you, eyes on yours and arms crossed over his chest. The expression on his face is hard to read.
“You’re my best friend. And I don’t know maybe I thought I’d lose you if someone else showed up and took up your time. But that’s so stupid because I know you’d never do that.” Dropping your face into your hands, you sigh deeply before you catch his gaze again. “I feel like the worst friend and you have to know how sorry I am. I truly, truly am so sorry.”
The silence that follows is almost deafening. You take another sip of your too hot tea, trying to help calm the thoughts running rampant in your head. Niall continues to look at you, arms still crossed. He sighs and glances out the window, stretching his neck.
“I just—“ He starts, swiping his hand down his scruffy face. He’s quiet again for a moment, eyes still watching the plants move in the wind outside. “Ya gotta know you can always talk to me, Y/N. In all our years as friends, has that ever changed? But last night...I dunno where all dat came from, but I just don’t want ya to like ya have to wait til ya burst ta talk ta me.” Finally, he looks at you again. This time, his eyes are soft and it’s like looking at your best friend again. “And the fact dat ya let Elle convince ya something was going on? Ya know what she’s like, love. She thrives on all the attention. Still don’t see why you’re friends with her to be honest.”
You chuckle and give a light shrug with one shoulder. Glancing up at him, you give him a hopeful look. His eyes narrow for a moment before he smiles brightly.  
“As if I could ever stay mad at ya, love,” His arms pull you in for a tight hug, your head resting right in the crook of his neck. “Don’t even know where I’d be without ya, you know that.”
Breathing in deep, your mind tells you to memorize this feeling. The way his arms wrap strongly around your waist. How he smells almost like the woods on a crisp fall day. For some reason, you’re still terrified that this could all disappear any moment.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Ni,” you respond, hopeful you’ll never have to find out.
The next several days follow a pattern.
Wake up.
Work.
Hang out with Niall and whoever else happens to be around.
Work more.
Sleep.
Niall rehearses with the band and there’s several movie nights so you feel as though the two of you have returned to normal for the most part. Thankfully nobody else mentions your comments, so you assume Niall kept it all to himself. Gerry is the only one who comments on your state of drunkenness, earning himself a boxed ear and a withering glare.
When Niall has to cancel his Mexico City tour date, he’s more than broken up about it. He’s never wanted to have to cancel a date and it’s absolutely killing him.
He’s moody and brooding around the house and even your fake enthusiasm over the golf channel does very little to improve his mood.
You’re trying your best, but it’s hard. You still feel out of sorts from your (sort of) argument that night and you’re doing everything in your power to not say the wrong thing. Despite how hard you try, you can’t forget what he said that night. 
“She’s not the girl I want.”
If Lily wasn’t who Niall wanted, he already had someone in mind. But who? It’s a question that could haunt you for hours on end, so you busy yourself with work and getting ready to head to Brazil.
“Rio De Janeiro! It’s gonna be so amazing, Ni!” You gush, folding another shirt to go in your suitcase. “We can see Christ the Redeemer and hang out on the beach and oh! We could take a helicopter out, wouldn’t that be fun?”
Niall chuckles from his spot on your bed. He’s got his phone in his hand, more than likely trolling Twitter, but he’s still paying you plenty of attention. “Whatever ya wanna do, love. I’m definitely down for some sight seein’. Just excited you’re back on the tour wit us. Missed havin’ ya round.” 
You’re quiet for a moment. With everything that had happened over the last few days, you and Niall hadn’t gotten much of a chance to talk about your going home for the funeral. To be honest, you’d kind of been avoiding the subject. 
“Y/N? ‘M sorry. Didn’t mean ta upset ya,” Niall sits up on the bed and swings his legs over until he’s sitting beside your neatly folded clothes.
“You didn’t,” You protest, carefully folding the shorts in your hand and placing them in the proper pile. “I’m just...I’ve kind of been avoiding thinking about any of...that.”
Niall nods, setting his phone on the nightstand and pulling you to sit beside him. His hands wrap around yours and he sighs deeply, eyes finding yours.
“Ya know I’m always here for you love. Right?” You nod, feeling the sting of tears behind your eyes. “How was it? Bein’ wit your family and all dat?” 
Breathing deep, you shrug. “It was ok. Charlie was devastated. Which I get, I guess. She and David had just really started taking you know? She really wanted to have that relationship with him. If nothing else, she got some time with him.” You clear your throat and fiddle mindlessly with Niall’s fingers. “It makes me wonder if I’m a bad daughter. Because I didn’t want that relationship with him? I was so young when he and mom got divorced and then there was nothing until what? A year ago he finds out he’s really sick and wants to make amends? How is that fair?” 
Niall’s hands still yours and he gives a good squeeze to them both. “Ya weren’t being a bad daughter, Y/N. It had ta be hard tryin’ ta force something you weren’t sold on. Ya tried though, and that’s all that matters in the end. No matter what, I know ya put yourself in it as much as you could. But you’re scared of getting hurt again. Who wouldn’t be? So stop feelin’ like ya weren’t doin’ enough. I know you. Ya never give anything less than all yourself.”
The small smile you flash at him trembles as a few tears roll down your cheeks. And for what’s gotta be the millionth time in your friendship, Niall pulls you in and lets you cry, face buried in his shoulder.
“I’ve got ya, love. Just let it out.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
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Dating Bruce Wayne Would Include (Pt. II)
Because apparently more people love Bat Daddy than they’re willing to admit
Dates – or rather, the process of planning them – are a little weird for the two of you
Despite him being wealthy and having had a reputation as a philanderer, Bruce is still a very devoted businessman with an entire enterprise to run. This may or may not clash with your own schedule, depending on what you do, but it is more likely Bruce’s schedule that needs the most consideration when plotting out a date
Then, of course, there’s your lover’s obvious nighttime job. It’s not even necessarily that he can’t take the night off; it’s just that those nights are few and far in between. Though now that he’s getting older and has a significant other to appreciate in his life, he does attempt to make more of an effort to take at several nights or so per month off.
This may not seem like much, but considering what he does…
Most dates are what you’d expect: trips to the opera, dinners at fancy, high-end restaurants, museums, walks in the nicer parts of town such as the botanical garden
Others, not so much: You may be craving some fast food so you two wind up at a Big Belly Burger or just a coffee date at Jitter’s. You’ve even convinced him to take a couple’s art class with you a couple of times
He’s quite proud of the vase you made and the portrait of you he made. Both are placed tastefully in the living room on the mantel
He’s always sure to keep some percentage of himself on edge, however, as he doesn’t want to let his guard down only for you to get hurt or worse
You understand this, even though you wish he had the luxury of being completely, 100% chill
Despite clearly being one of the world’s most patient s/os (you’d have to be if you’re dating a vigilante), fights are still going to happen. There’s just no way around it.
It’s a common, natural part of relationships so long as they’re done within reason. Even in a relationship where one of you dresses like a demonic bat and beats up baddies until the candy comes out
The subjects, however, can obviously vary
Sometimes it’s over normal, everyday couple stuff like canceled dates, forgotten events, showing up late to important things, the occasional lack of communication, and so on
Other days, it’s over stuff that only couples composed of a normal person and their superhero s/o could experience like way-too-close calls, arriving home looking like Death escorted them back out of pity, becoming too ambitious and losing sight or even themselves, debates over conflicting morals …
One time, you really hurt Bruce on accident
You’d made it so clear that you didn’t approve of his new use of Bat Brands
“It’s just going a little too far, Bruce – it’s inhumane!”
Of course, he didn’t listen and it resulted in an argument when you accused him of being more animal than man and that wasn’t going to help anyone because he was just making things worse
Considering that one of his deepest fears is that this is all for nothing and he was losing himself as a result, he didn’t take it well. He went out patrolling without a word and didn’t arrive until 10 AM – way later than when he usually returns
You tried apologizing to him but he just kept quiet and broody
You suspect Alfred scolded at him for not giving his beloved a chance to redeem themselves because hours later he stopped leaving the room every time you entered it, allowing for you to apologize
You two had a discussion about it and decided to discuss the future of Bat Brands
Bruce, however, can accidentally be more biting and ruthless
He doesn’t mean to be, he’s just so used to coming off as imposing that it accidentally slips through. That doesn’t excuse his actions, though, it only explains them.
He especially got like this when he tried to get that you need to be more careful or stop being so trusting of figures like Superman
One such example was when you tried playing devil’s advocate for the last Kryptonian, a move you should’ve known was risky as hell considering how much destruction he’d caused, including to Bruce’s associates. But your sense of compassion couldn’t allow you to immediately determine that he was necessarily evil
This prompted Bruce, in growing anger, to tell you to wise up before you got yourself killed. Your “lovey dovey” nature didn’t apply to the real world and if there was a chance that Superman would kill anyone, he’d take it and you needed to pick which side you were on
You weren’t sure which suggestion you were most hurt about (that you weren’t dedicated to him, that you were being stupid), but cringed at the way he said “lovey dovey.” You couldn’t help but tear up because it felt like you were being kicked for something Bruce had previously praised about you
You gave the silent treatment for a week after that and spent the next few nights at your old apartment. If your “lovey dovey” nature was inapplicable, why waste your time?
Bruce obviously felt awful about it, but also felt a little too prideful to apologize. But then Alfred threatened to break his neck and forced the two of you to sit down and talk it out
Bruce had to apologize to you for a month both in words, items, and actions
He then owes you money after you both meet Supes and learn that he’s not a bad guy
You guys also get into arguments over how overprotective he can be and how it sometimes clouds his judgement, but those are usually settled a lot easier
You honestly didn’t move in to his place too quickly. A lot of people found it odd, considering how common it was for couples to move in together nowadays. Besides, it wasn’t as if you’d ever want for anything by moving in with the richest man in the city
But you had your reasons
Mainly that you enjoyed where your own apartment was: Near enough to civilization, which had coffee shops and bookstores and markets
Seriously, Bruce lives so out of city limits that spending the night at his place can require careful planning (and a constant refusal to watch scary movies)
It probably doesn’t even occur to you that you’ve 96% moved into his place until you’ve just taken a shower and casually gone through the dresser to find your favorite blouse. When you find it, it hits you that you’ve pretty much made a home away from home with him
But you keep your place because sometimes, Bruce just wants to get away from his place and just envelope himself in yours
Alfred makes you a few defense devices, both per Bruce’s request and per your own. The difference is that Bruce’s tend to be more like juiced up brass knuckles and advanced versions of stun guns, things meant to hold attackers at bay so you can escape them and get to safety. Your requests, however, have every intent on keeping them immobilized and begin to resemble Bruce’s own devices with a “(Y/N) charm” to them
Bruce tells Alfred to stop taking your requests because he doesn’t want you getting more involved than you already are so long as he can help it
Alfred doesn’t listen anyway
Speaking of Alfred, he adores you and sees you as the daughter he’d never had. Or, in this case, the daughter-in-law he’s snarked at Bruce to give him for literal decades
You two enjoy making snarky remarks both about and at Bruce, based on his actions and thoughts
Alfred also makes the two of you snacks while you’re waiting up for Bruce to return. He may not stay up as late as you do, being so used to Bruce’s nighttime antics. But if you fall asleep on the couch, Alfred will put a blanket over you
You get to touch the Bat Boobs™
Bruce is less than amused when he comes back up from working out and you begin to grope his pecs.
He stares blankly ahead, unsure of what to feel, when you jokingly complain about his boobs being bigger than yours
If you can’t sleep, there are multiple methods at your disposal
If the ASMR videos or white noise machines don’t work, and you don’t want to wake anyone up by sneaking into the kitchen, you may wind up pacing –
Which, if he was asleep already, may wake Bruce up because he no longer feels you next to/on top of him
Since you couldn’t fall asleep by just being held in the first place, Bruce decides on another method: Working out
After you threaten to destroy him for even joking about that nightmare routine, he settles on another method: Taking a drive
He sticks to driving around areas he knows are notably safer but still quiet
Having a family is a rather…touchy subject.
He’s still obviously very effected by the death of his parents, and this has led to an extremely ambitious level of protectiveness. He likes to joke that you’re enough of a handful
And considering what happened to his Robin …
This isn’t going to stop Alfred from lightly pushing the subject, however, which eventually causes you to occasionally bring it up
This is a subject for another time, Bruce insists
Though he’d be lying if he claimed that he never once thought about what a combination of you and himself would look like
He imagines they’d have his eyes, your hair, his athleticism and hunger for knowledge and your determination, interpersonal skills, and overall glowing personality – basically, the perfect Wayne who would never want for anything because they’ll get far in life with just their personality alone
Bruce prays you never ask him what he thinks your child would be like because he’d be too tempted to let this spill
For all the curly-haired sisters out there: You know Bruce has your back with all those costly hair products.
He’s less than impressed with the prices, not because he has to spend it all, but because it shouldn’t cost $16 for a tiny container of Kinky Curly or $300 for a keratin treatment that’ll help straighten your hair, should you desire so
Bruce also don’t play that Pink Tax shit
“They’re just razors. They don’t even cut like mine do – and I have facial hair–… I’m just buying you my brand, the only difference is that mine actually works.”
“… Why do sanitary products cost this much?” “Because patriarchy.” “It’s not a luxury, though. So what the hell?”
Still needs your instructions when he’s on his own getting pads for you – even if he’s shopping for an economy order online. But my god, does he try
Speaking of which, during that time of the month, Bruce is highkey lowkey panicky
Not because you’re bleeding from an intimate area, but because blood is unpredictable and can be hard to get out of silk sheets
Lightly tries to convince you to relocate to the couch, where he’s set up a comfort corner for you: blankets, heating pads, tea, chocolate, salty snacks, tissues, ibuprofen, and movies you enjoy as well as ones that make you tired so you can rest with background noise
Of course, you have to lay on a towel. Better safe than sorry
Nicking one of Bruce’s older capes and trying to mimic his dark and brooding actions and demeanor
He thinks it’s cute that you try to perch on the arms of the sofa or the edge of the bed
He thinks it’s less cute when you scare the crap out of him when he walks into the bathroom to find your perched on the bathroom counter just waiting for him
He’s torn between finding it cute and un-cute when you try to make your voice gravely and talk like him
“I am the night, the terror that stalks you down the alleyways your morality dwells in.” “Babe, I don’t talk like that.” “Yes, I do.” “When did I become a (insert-your-height) cape-swiper who still trips on it when they run down the halls with it?” “… Harsh.”
He thinks it’s just plain adorable when you attempt to dive-bomb him with the cape on so he can catch you. He’d never admit it, though, because he plays it off as an annoyance
He doesn’t have to admit it, though; you can tell by the look in his eyes
Obligatory “easy nights”
These aren’t necessarily dates unless you count spending the nights where he isn’t patrolling cuddled up and just enjoying each other’s company dates
You don’t even really play music of watch a movie or anything most of the time – it’s literally just you two holding each other and listening to one another’s heartbeats
Because the sad thing is, you don’t always know when it’s going to be the last time either of you hears the other’s
Of course, nobody wants to spend such an intimate and meaningful moment being broody so when you’re not basking in silence, you’re talking
There’s often times no rhyme or reason to your conversations, they could literally be about anything: How your days were, Wayne stocks, that one bitchy coworker of yours whom Bruce offers to spook (if you say no, he says he could just show up at your workplace in his civilian clothes and make them nervous by his mere, handsome presence).
Sometimes they’re jokes, other times they’re memories. And other times, they’re just philosophical views on the concept of life and free will, or what love is
And, as the night wears on and you get more and more tired, just plain delirious subjects like how Japan has mascots for nearly everything and how you think that, as Gotham’s prince, Bruce should apply the same to the city
“Wayne Tower can be a goat mountain-climber – because you’re always climbing to new heights!” “I’m surprised you didn’t say a bat. And soaring to new heights.” “ … Awww, blubber nuggets.” “ ‘Blubber nuggets’?” “Don’t patronize me, Brucifer.”
It’s usually at this point that Bruce insists it’s time to officially turn in for the night. You, however, object to this because you want to spend more time talking and cuddling – you already don’t get as much of this as you’d like
Ten minutes later (or even mid-sentence), you’re out like a light. Being in Bruce’s arms makes you feel so safe and warm and loved that you can’t help but melt into them and fall into the most assuring sign of trust there is: sleep
Chances are, Bruce won’t get up immediately because he doesn’t want to disturb you just yet. And because he likes to take these opportunities to just look at you
He shouldn’t have someone like you, he knows that. He’s done too many things that should’ve forbade him from ever landing any kind of long-term romance, especially with someone like you
But here you are, physically there and not just as a figment of his imagination, so far in that you’d even fall asleep in his embrace
Bruce has never been a truly religious man. But it’s moments like this that he can’t help but thank whichever deity is out there for giving him this one last chance at happiness 
The next morning, like clockwork, Alfred comes down to make breakfast and finds Master Bruce asleep on the couch, cradling, as if you were a precious Faberge egg. He decides against making a ruckus and retreats back to his room for a cup of coffee
Bruce doesn’t get many opportunities to feel this safe and vulnerable; he needs this more than he’ll ever admit to anyone
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Assessing your skills and motion is extremely important naturally. Why? Since this game has player versus player mode and we must say that it is unbelievably well done. You're able to battle anyone regardless of their degree and combat score. There's even a kind of Hall of Fame in which three of the best players in the host could be worshiped.
Nevertheless you have read that you right. You are able to worship others if that is something. Doing this will really provide you a bit of gold. If you'd rather struggle than worship them, you might also do this, but we believe that leveling up a small bit and milling some equipment and tools is normally a brighter thing to do. Or you might just trust the hack to supply you with everything you will ever want in this sport...
And that brings us into leveling and grinding. Yup, there is grinding and yeah you've got to take action from time to time, it is an MMO game. However...
We're absolutely aware there are countless thousands of you who just abhor grinding. We are not judging, were really among you! Every one of us from SuperHackTool.com can not stand the extremely considered grinding video games. Were prepared to let it slip occasionally but at a game like this do not even believe you are going to get off easy since you won't.
Yes the game is excellent and yes it's a complete joy to play with it if you grind for hours and hours it starts to lose its allure. And we do not need this to happen today, do we? That is precisely why we are posting this . This hack Legacy of Discord: Furious Wings enables you as a participant to assume direct control of the number of resources you wish in your stock.
Although we have just mentioned the diamonds from the name, the reality is that this hack may also assist you with both gold and obsidian hacking. And of course you'll be in a position to fully refill your endurance to 100 from 100 as frequently as you'd like letting you play pursuit for so long as you would like.
The way to hack Diamonds at Legacy of Discord: Furious Wings?
It could be exceptionally mean to us to finish this without describing how to receive all the advantages from the hack instrument after all of the compliments. Do not worry, we are not planning to leave until we've clarified everything you want to do. You are able to see this YouTube tutorial movie for more directions.
All you will have to do in order to start this hacking procedure is to press one button. This button is really found right under this text. Simply scroll down and find a large green button and as soon as you see it go right on ahead and press on it.
This can take you to an outside website where the hack is situated. In the event you experience any issue or get stuck while attempting to hack the match (which we are pretty sure won't ever occur ), only consult the directions on this page. Those will explain all you have to do in order to acquire your free diamonds along with other things.
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