#remind for sure all the others are cool but they’d get me arrested or something

[mvltisstuff]

hello again!! im the anon who requested sweet nothing (also, saw the edit note and don’t worry it was a fantastic fic and i love it, thank you so much for writing it ❤️) i was wondering if i could request another fic for buck where reader is like athena’s protege and she’s a lot like athena so athena and bobby basically play match maker for them, thinking they’d compliment each other very well but buck and the reader have secretly dating since they met bc they hit it off so well and athena and the 118 end up finding out and are shocked they had no idea. thank you if you get to this, no stress if you don’t. i hope you have a lovely day and remember to take breaks and drink water!!

the feels - e.b

summary: above :)

evan buckley x reader

a/n: i love seeing these requests so much, please leave as many as you want, this one is so sweet 🫶🫶 i wanted to recreate the funny scene when may walked in on athena in bobby’s turnout 😭

the grants were sitting in the kitchen waiting for another delicious meal from bobby to be ready to eat. athena was sitting down, playing a card game with her two children as bobby was stirring a boiling pot. sharing stories about their days, athena begins her own.

“the station welcomed a new recruit today,” athena starts while cleaning up the cards. “i think i was telling you about her.”

“y/n? i remember you told me she was going to be working there, i just didn’t know she’d be with you.”

“she’s not riding along with me, but we’ve spoken a lot. she reminds me of myself. she’s young but one of the most determined ones i’ve seen. i think she has a lot of great potential.”

“maybe you should bring her along one day,” bobby suggests. “she sounds cool, you should bring her to the station one night for dinner there.”

“i’ll have to check her schedule. she’s trying to get more comfortable in LA, so that could help her. give her some friends,” athena says. “i know she came here to get away for a bit, i’m not sure why but i think something at home.”

“might wanna be careful bringing her, now that i’m thinking about it.”

“what makes you say that?” she asks.

“i’m worried someone might take a liking to her. buck loves you, and he reminds me of myself. and if she’s really similar to you…” athena walks over to bobby, giving him a light kiss before beginning again. “i’ll see what her timing is, i’ll let you know so you can tame the lion.”

the next day at work, y/n walks in uniform with her chunky belt with her gear. she sweetly says good morning to the people at the front with a cup of coffee before returning to her bosses office. “y/n?” she hears someone say from behind her.

“sergeant grant! hello, i was just about to go get started,” y/n says politely to her superior.

“you can call me athena, officer.”

“ok, athena,” y/n has a bright smile that could be the source of light to the room. “is there anything i can do for you?”

“no, you’re all set. just making sure things are good for you here,” athena knows that she’s strong despite the kindness act she puts on. she’s seen she’s not afraid to stand up for herself against all the men at the station. similar to herself, she’s ready for anything god throws at her. “if you get off earlier tonight, i was going to the 118. my husband is bobby nash, and he’s having dinner. i thought it would be a good place for you to settle in.”

“that sounds great, athena. i get off a bit earlier today.”

“good,” athena says with a thin grin. “i’ll see you then, y/l/n.”

they both walk away, going to do their paperwork and jobs of the day. on the first call, they had to deal with a specific threat, making two arrests as y/n shoved them back into the car.

she had easily clicked into her workplace, impressing everyone with her skill and ease with the job. her quick thinking came in extreme need, and athena knew she was going to be one of the best eventually.

after another call, the fire department had been at a site of a crash with drunk driving robbers. the police had been called to observe the suspects and ask them questions about the accident and even before that. after some of the crash on the street was cleaned up, y/n had been on the side, informing dispatch on the current nature of the situation. she was hanging around near one of the trucks when a man, couldn’t have been over 30, walked over to her.

“hey,” he says with a seducing smile, looking her uniform up and down. “i haven’t seen you around yet.”

“i’ve just started working here, i was a cop before but i recently moved here.”

“you liking it? LA can be a lot,” he tells her. “i’m evan buckley, 118. buck.”

y/n smiles and shakes his hand. “you’re from 118? athena and bobby invited me over for dinner tonight.”

“y-you’re y/n?” buck asks, a little surprised. she’s gorgeous, her hair was done back in neat braids. her uniform complemented her well, making her look like a boss, but also looks sweet with her bright smile and laugh. buck noticed her beauty and grace in handling herself.

athena and bobby stood to the side, meeting up at the end of the shift. “i think it’s too late,” bobby says, pointing to y/n and buck flirting very clearly to everyone but themselves. athena would never admit it, but she was actually happy. she thought buck needed woman like her, and she needed one like buck, and after a whole night of convincing each other before bed, they finally decided to take up a new career in match making.

the dinner had gone well, the team asking y/n about her past and why she wanted to become a cop. someone in particular was mesmerized by her stories. “so, y/n, where did you grow up?” eddie asks.

“i was raised in boston, and i went to suffolk for criminal justice,” y/n says. “i knew i wanted to help people, and i came to LA as an escape honestly. just try something new.”

they all nod and smile as they finish their food, laughing about shared stories and the two spend the night eyeing each other.

a couple months had gone by, and buck and y/n had been better close. very close. they were seeing each other almost every day, meeting up outside work to see each other. for being a bad liar, buck was hiding their relationship very well. they started dating a few weeks after the dinner, and no one had any idea. or at least they thought.

buck was definitely head over heels for y/n. she was a person who dominated wherever she was, but carried herself around with respect and a soothing personality. coming home from work, she was always a person to talk to. her sweet and gentle words were always a comfort to him. he thought she was the most lovely person ever.

y/n was obsessed with buck after she met him. he was incredibly charming, being able to light up a room at any time. being able to spend time with him at the end of their shifts was truly the highlight of her day, and she hadn’t felt this happy in a long time. he helped her get settled in the new city that she was venturing. he was always a shoulder to lean on during the bad days, and one to celebrate with after the good ones.

chimney and maddie had been driving over to bucks apartment. they had all agreed to have dinner together so she could spend time with her little brother.

buck on the other hand, had been too preoccupied to remember the plans.

y/n was dressed in a lace bra and panties set, wearing bucks work shirt with his name and badge on it. she was sitting on top of the counter with buck standing between her legs.

when chimney and maddie walked in, they saw bucks bare back, and both of their half-naked bodies. luckily, buck still had his boxers on, and y/n had his shirt. her arms were wrapped around his shoulders, a pair of handcuffs in her hands. “oh my god! evan!” maddie shouted and buck turned around.

“jesus, maddie!” he yelled and his immediate instinct was to cover up y/n. “what are you doing here?”

“some of us had dinner plans,” chimney adds, watching in a humorous way.

“you had dinner plans?” y/n asks.

buck throws his head back in frustration. “im sorry, guys, i completely forgot.”

“clearly.” maddie and chim say, together. “we’re going to go in the hall, give you a minute. while i call bobb-“ chim starts.

“no! do not call bobby because then he and athena will hate me!”

“i think athena would fire me,” y/n says.

“are you kidding? they’ve been trying to force you two together for months!”

y/n and buck give each other a confused look because they both thought they’d want them separate. surely, they weren’t stopping it but they especially didn’t think they would encourage it. they start laughing at each other hysterically at the thought of their superiors trying to get them hooked up. maddie and chimney exit in a hurry, leaving to the hallway.

“well, wanna continue?” buck asks and y/n gives him a questioning look.

“we have like 2 minutes, babe,” she smiles. “i don’t know if we have time.”

“you doubting me?” he says, leaning back in and kissing her again.

“prove me wrong, then,” she smirks and they spend their few minutes not wasting a second.

“bobby! sorry to bother you tonight, but you’re gonna want to hear this!” chim says after calling the captain.

bobby hangs up the phone, and is sitting next to the athena on their couch. athena hears the whole conversation. “i’ll quit my job if you quit yours, and we can start our own business.”

“agreed,” athena says, giving bobby a high-five at their dating app skills. “i will say i’m surprised they kept it a secret. she did seem a bit more upbeat though.”

“so what’s next? getting them engaged?”

“ok, woah. let’s not get too ahead of ourselves. we’ll give ‘em a bit i guess.”

“fine, but i’m getting every detail about this tomorrow from him.”

“i’ll get it from y/n, we will reconvene after a short recess.”

[harryspet]

his to claim | bucky barnes

[Warnings] dark!alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader, a/b/o dynamics, werewolf au, fury!reader, monica is a fury too, sam wilson x monica, virgin!innocent!reader, hint of ddlg dynamic, noncon sex, noncon marking, soulmates au, oral sex (female recieving), kidnapping

A/N: enjoy this long (long for me at least) one-shot! 

In which you befriend a lonely Alpha.

taglist: @cherienymphe @lovelynerdytraveler @buckysbunny @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything​ @saharzek @what-is-your-wish @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @mischiefmanaged011​ @visintaes​  @watercoolerpaint​ @disaster-rose​ @slutforsebstan

main masterlist

word count: 5.8k 

Sam knew Bucky was in one of his moods. One of his moods where he’d disappear for five days, not give a clue to where he was going, and return covered in blood. Although Bucky’s closest friend and Beta to his pack, Sam, was getting married this week, Bucky was stuck in his ways. Bucky knew that a wedding meant that another pack would be invading his land, filling the pack house with strangers, and two packs meant there would be two Alphas. Although he respected Alpha Fury, Bucky wasn’t the type to get along nicely with others, especially other Alphas. 

It was one in the morning when the white wolf passed through the tree line, the packhouse coming into view. The three-story cabin fit many of the high-ranking families and was the center of most pack activities. Meetings, gatherings, and celebrations for the Winter’s Shield pack were all held here. 

Bucky shifted, each one of his bones cracking roughly back into place as if they’d forgotten they were half-human. As he expected, there was a pair of shorts waiting for him on the porch. Nat always hated when he’d show up naked in the middle of the night. This is my house, he’d say. Save it for your mate, she’d say back. Bucky would always scoff at that. Not many Alphas make it to their thirties without a mate and Bucky was quite willing to keep his single streak going. 

The house was heated, comforting him after losing the warmth of his coat. Still, he was covered in elk blood and could use a shower along with a twelve-hour nap. He walked towards the winding stairs, only to hear rumbling in the kitchen, and deciding to investigate. He was the only night owl around here, or at least that’s what he thought. 

He could already smell that there were foreigners around and prayed this week would go by fast. Flicking on the kitchen light, he found you sitting on the island counter. You looked up from your carton of chocolate ice cream with wide eyes. He expected you to freak out at the sight of him but it seemed you were more embarrassed on your behalf rather than frightened. 

“Sorry … I was just gonna have one bowl and then that turned into two. And then  …” You emphasized the spoon that was sitting in the mostly eaten carton. Omega, his wolf said. There was a strange omega sitting on his kitchen counter in oversized pajamas and hair rollers. His eyes fell to something sitting behind her which she instantly pushed further behind her back in panic, “There’s a little left if you want some.”

“Who are you?” Bucky asked, a little more harshly than he intended. 

“Y/N,” You answered, a bit flustered, “I’m Monica’s sister … also her maid of honor. I know there isn’t usually a maid of honor in our wedding ceremonies but there’s always a maid of honor in the movies. I’m gonna throw her such a cool bachelorette party, Natasha said we could have it in the living room-”

Bucky felt suffocated by your excitement. Feeling overwhelmed by the bright lights and whatever his wolf was feeling for you, he said, “Stop,” He raised a hand, confused by your comfortableness with the situation. You talked to him, an Alpha, so casually and you didn’t seem at all frightened by his bloody appearance,  “Do you know who I am?”’

“Alpha Barnes,” You hopped down from the counter, making sure to keep whatever you were hiding behind your back, “Sam said you’d be back at some point. They made a bet on whether or not you’d get back before or after my dad left. Everyone said you’d skip the wedding.” 

Alpha Fury’s second daughter. An Omega. An annoying, little, ice-cream stealing Omega. 

“Well here I am,” Bucky stepped closer to you and was surprised when you didn’t even blink at that. An omega raised by an Alpha, you were something Bucky had never encountered, “Why are you raiding my kitchen so late at night, Omega.”

There was a flash of sadness in your eyes, “I had a nightmare … ice cream always makes me feel better. You ever get nightmares, Alpha Barnes?” Bucky’s brows furrowed. 

“No,” Bucky spoke coldy, confused about what was pulling him closer to you. 

“Nuh-uh, no way,” Bucky thought you were challenging him but there was an innocent smile on your face, “My Dad said you’ve fought in lots of battles, challenged a lot of other Alphas, you must see a lot of terrible stuff. You never even get a little bit scared?”

Bucky ignored your pressing question, the look on his face frustrated, “What’s behind your back?”

“Uhm … what’s behind yours?” You tried distracting him but Bucky knew there was nothing behind him. 

“Show me,” He commanded, knowing that Omega inside of you wouldn’t want to disobey him. 

You huffed. 

Stupid alphas, Bucky heard your voice but your lips didn’t move. 

You pulled an old, stuffed bear from behind your back, “It’s Mr. Cuddlebear …. he also helps with the nightmares,” In his eyes, you were definitely too old to have a stuffed animal but his wolf found it endearing. He hated that, “You never got scared even when you were a little? No monsters under the bed? Boogeyman in the closet?”

“It’s late,” Bucky changed the subject, “I’m sure we have a long week ahead of us. I’d take … that-”

“Mr. Cuddlebear,” You interrupted, reminding him of your teddy bear’s name. 

“Go to bed, little wolf.”

Stupid Alpha voice. 

You rolled your eyes as your feet began to move before your brain began to register, “Goodnight, Alpha Barnes,” You left the kitchen, carrying the teddy bear with you, “Sleep tight, don’t let the vampires bite.” He heard your little giggle as you climbed up the stairs. 

Bucky placed his hands on the counter, staring at the ice cream. Did he ever have nightmares? No one had ever asked him that before. 

Bucky cleaned up nice, you thought as you looked at him across the room. No one expected him to even come, let alone put on a nice suit jacket. The rehearsal dinner was loud with both Winter’s Shield and the Daystar pack mingling together for the first time. Sam seemed to be having the time of his life, your father was being much lighter than usual, and Monica was …. well, Monica. 

You were talking with a bunch of people, giving out the sugar cookies you’d made when you made eye contact with him. He drank from his glass of wine and you noticed he was standing with Sam and Monica. She was in the prettiest yellow dress and you could tell Sam was happy to find a mate so beautiful. 

You’d looked away, focusing on meeting everyone when Monica started to walk towards you. 

“Stay away from him, please,” She stepped in front of you.

“Stay away from who?”

“Alpha Barnes,” She spoke lowly. 

“He’ll be your Alpha soon, you know.”

“You don’t think I know that?”

“I already met him, Monica,” You smiled, “He was nice to me in like a weird, cold way.”

She shook her head, your words seeming to worry her more, “That’s what I’m worried about,” She grabbed your hand, leading you away to one of the tables in the corner. You had a plate of sugar cookies in your hands, some you’d made especially for the party to give out, “You have a tendency to make people like you but you don’t want him to like you, trust me. All that stuff Daddy taught us still stands, it doesn’t matter that we know him now. So just sit here, and do nothing, please.”

“But what about my cookies? I have to give them out!” You whined as she fenced you in, forcing you to sit down.

“I’ll do it,” She smiled, taking the plate from your hands, “You’ve socialized enough I think so just … relax.”

“But-” She was already walking away. You loved your sister, she was your best friend, but she was still a Beta. She had no idea what it was like to be you, surrounded by jerks who thought they were better than you. Maybe that’s why you liked talking with people so much, to prove that maybe you were more fragile than them but you weren’t invisible. Right now, you felt invisible. 

You could only watch everyone have fun without you for so long and you got out of the seat about ten minutes later. You left the large white tent, where it was much cooler, and you didn’t mind being alone as much. 

You told yourself to cheer up, trying not to frown. A week from now, you’ll be home, you’ll be on house arrest again but without Monica. You were going to savor this small vacation no matter the obstacles. 

Bucky found you outside sitting in the grass as you stared up at the moon. He got that feeling again, his wolf wanting to be closer to yours, and wished he felt differently. You looked back at him as you felt him approaching, and you heard Monica’s voice in your head telling you to stay away. 

“Did you try my cookies?” Your lips pulled into a smile that, like everything about you, confused him. 

“I didn’t … I watched Sam eat six of them though,” The tall Alpha responded, sticking his hands into his pants pocket. 

“Watching your perfect, Alpha-physique?”

Bucky actually felt the need to smile though he kept himself controlled, “Something of that nature, yes.”

“Awe, a few cookies won’t hurt,” You stood up from the ground, dusting off your dress. Bucky noticed your mary jane’s and the little butterfly clips in your curls, “Let me guess, you only prey on innocent animals.”

The Alpha smirked, “I’ll make sure to try your cookies next time, little wolf.”

“Sadly, there won’t be a next time,” You stepped past him and he followed after you, as you walked towards the tree line, “My father will probably find me a mate that lives across the country so he doesn’t have to deal with me.”

“Ah, that’s right,” Both Monica and Fury wanted to make it clear to him that you were practically claimed. You didn’t know yet but Peter Parker of the Stark pack was waiting for you. Fury was planning a quick, summer wedding, “I can’t imagine the poor fool who will have to deal with your kitchen raids and Mr. Cuddlebear.”

You grinned, “You remembered his name?” Bucky remembered and he’d been watching you ever since that late night, “I thought you might laugh at me, Monica does.”

Bucky was quiet for a long moment and, as you looked at him, it seemed that his mind was racing with thoughts, “I’ve had nightmares before,” He stated and you waited for him to elaborate. 

“What happened in them?” You prodded softly. 

Another long pause, “When was the last time you shifted?”

You figured that’s all you were going to get out of him. You thought for a moment, “I can’t even remember. Not since the winter solstice at least.”

“Let’s go on a run,” Bucky said, not waiting for you to agree. He picked up his pace, walking past the tree line and expecting you to follow. You hurried after him, your heart suddenly beginning to pound in your chest. 

“Alpha Bucky, Monica will kill me. Literally. She threw a hairdryer at me once,” You said, sounding panicked, though you got deeper and deeper into the woods, “And what about my dress?”

He turned around suddenly and you almost ran into his broad chest, “Take it off,” He ordered. Your hand instinctively reached up to the strap and you panicked, “Go behind a tree, I mean.”

“But Monica-”

“You’re an adult, right?”

You shrugged, “I try to be-”

“Then you can decide. Besides that, I’ll be Monica’s Alpha soon enough.”

You imagined her throwing a fit but you still conceded, walking to find a tree to hide behind, “It might take me a second, I think I’m a shy shifter.”

“Take your time, little wolf,” His words were more comforting than you expected. 

You stripped from your clothes behind the tree, trying not to imagine what Monica would think of you. An unmated female getting naked in the forest with an unmated male in the middle of the forest? There were all types of moral codes you had to be breaking. 

Standing in the cold, you shut your eyes tightly. Monica taught you the counting method when you were younger. You tried to tune out the rest of your thoughts, focusing on the nature around you, as you counted down from ten over and over again. It was instinct after that, the Moon Goddess taking over and unleashing your inner wolf. You didn’t feel the pain as your bones molded into their new positions and you became the second version of yourself. 

When you stepped from behind the tree, the white wolf was towering over your small, grey figure. 

His head tilted down towards you and you could already tell his wolf wanted to be more friendly with you than his human self. He smelled you, biting at your neck but you were even more playful in wolf form. You walked between his legs, confusing him, until you ran in the opposite direction. He chased after you and you didn’t expect to outrun him but you planned to give him a run for his money. 

He couldn’t sleep with you so close by. He tried going on another run to clear his head but his mind was full with you. He’d lived a long life yet this feeling in his soul was brand new. Never had Bucky desired anyone to be anything but a casual fling. His wolf wanted more than to just conquer you which was territory Bucky found hard to navigate. What would it say for his legacy if he took an Omega as his mate? How empty would he feel if he let you go tomorrow? What relationships would he throw away in order to claim you as his?

Covered in sweat, he pulled the sheets from his body, sitting up in his bed. 

Nightmare, his wolf echoed in his mind. Bucky rubbed his temples. That wasn’t a nightmare to him, he was just an overthinking mess. He was going to ignore that feeling until he sensed something was truly wrong. 

She dreams of pain and suffering.  

Go to her. 

Bucky stood up from his bed, filing out of his room, and down the long hallways of the packhouse. He pressed his ear to your door, his hand lightly touching the doorknob. He heard soft whimpers from the inside and, for a moment, he resisted you. He would turn around and try to go back to sleep. Instead, his wolf took control. 

Bucky opened the door, your whimpering continuing and you stirred although it wasn’t because of him. He closed the door gently, moving towards your bed, crossing a boundary that he was sure would be frowned upon. Your cheeks were stained with tears and you seemed to be grabbing Mr. Cuddlebear for dear life. 

He sat carefully at the edge of the bed, reaching out to touch you, “Y/N,” He whispered, trying to suppress the anger that he felt over the pain you were in. 

“No, no,” You whispered over and over again. 

“Little wolf,” He whispered again, his hand on your arm. The Alpha’s touch startled you out of your sleep and your eyes were wide with fear as you came back to consciousness. You weren’t sure why he was in your room or why your nightmares were getting so bad, “It’s just a bad dream-”

You sat up from your position and wrapped your arms around the Alpha. He seemed to freeze at your touch but you hugged him tighter for comfort. He wrapped his arms around you, his hand tentatively rubbing at your back and you heavily breathed against his chest. 

“I’m sorry, I just … you were crying.”

“I-I woke you up?”

“No,” Bucky lied, “I was just walking by and I heard you.”

“Alpha Bucky?”

“Yes?”

“Everything’s going to change tomorrow. My wolf, she senses something bad coming, and she’s scared.”

Bucky stiffened again, his wolf beginning to worry.  “Something bad? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know but the dreams are getting worse.”

“What do you see in your dreams?”

“I’m … I’m walking in his field, there’s so much sunshine and flowers a-and I’m walking towards the sun. I’m walking and walking and I’m happy and then I just start to sink into the ground. And I’m drowning and it feels like someone is holding me, pulling down further and further. I can’t breathe and there’s just this darkness a-and I-I-”

“Hey, hey,” He shushed you, sensing you were about to hyperventilate,  “It’s okay. Nothing is going to take you away. No one, do you understand?”

He felt you nodding and he grabbed you tighter, deciding he was going to hold you for as long as you needed him to. 

“I didn’t tell you because of this reason-”

The pen in Bucky’s hand snapped in half and his fists balled up tightly, “Sam, today is your wedding, I understand that but this is my territory. I decide who comes in and out of it. That’s final.”

“They’re already here-”

“Then send them away. Fury is trying to push me and this is the final straw.”

“He’s already married the first daughter off, he’s just trying to do the same with Y/N. And he knows that this is a chance for three alphas to sit down and discuss what we’re going to do about the rogue situation.”

Feeling that he was drawing blood from clenching his fist so hard, he moved them under his desk.  “I can handle problems that concern my own pack. Tony is even more arrogant than Fury, we’ll never agree.”

“You have to at least try, Alpha,” Sam sighed, “You haven’t found one woman you’d consider having little Buckys with. Maybe Stark will bring someone that will pique your interest?”

Bucky ignored him, “When Stark arrives-” Sam let out a triumphant cheer, “-Bring him and Fury to my office. I won’t need you here, I’m sure you’ll have much to prepare for this evening.”

“You won't regret this.”

Bucky followed Peter’s line of sight. There you were, standing in a beautiful periwinkle dress, waiting for your sister to walk down the aisle and join an anxious Sam. The birds were singing, a violin was being played, and everyone was collectively ready to celebrate the joyous moment. Everyone except Bucky.

Of course, Peter wanted to look at you, a beautiful creature, an unmated female, he'd be lucky to call you his mate. He was young like you, he'd be able to get all your references, keep up with your energetic ramblings, you'd get to go far away from your father and you'd be so happy. You'd forget all about Monica. You’d forget all about the week you spend in Winter’s Shield. 

The wedding went off without a hitch and Bucky watched you have the time of your life. Peter targeted you, of course, that was the entire reason was her, to woo you and it was working. You were dancing together, laughing when Peter made a silly misstep.

Bucky shooed away every Stark girl who tried to approach him, even denying a Beta, until he was standing alone in the corner. 

The festivities calmed down late into the night, you had to say goodbye to Peter, Monica was whisked away to a “private cabin” and everyone else returned to their rooms. Your father reminded you to pack your things as you’d be leaving early in the morning. 

Looking at Mr. Cuddlebear sitting on your bed, you were reminded of the events of last night. You didn’t expect so much kindness from the cold Alpha but, as Monica warned you, he seemed to like you. You still thought she was being dramatic with her warning and that she would grow to like her new Alpha. 

You never did really get to thank him and he also never tried your cookies. You had an amazing idea and late-night baking always led to amazing things. 

Bucky was pacing the length of his room when there was a knock at his door. His wolf knew instantly that it was with you like the Moon Goddess had answered his prayers. He was fighting every natural urge in his body and he planned to hide away until everyone was gone tomorrow. Now, he had no idea what he was going to do. 

When Bucky opened the door, you were standing with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk, and a kind smile on your face, “A thank you for last night,” You offered, “I figured you’d like a plain chocolate chip cookie. I’m not sure though-”

“Come in,” Bucky said quickly, closing the door behind you. You noted that he was still wearing his dress pants though he was only wearing a sleeveless undershirt at his top. Though you’d seen him shirtless before, this time felt more intimate. 

“Try one,” You insisted, “Please.”

Bucky was hesitant, his diet not usually including such human pleasures, but he was quite surprised with the first bite. You seemed nervous, expecting a good reaction which Bucky found adorable, “They’re good,” Bucky nodded, “I mean, they’re great. Here, come sit down.”

As you took a seat on the edge of the giant bed, Bucky grabbed the glass and plate from your hands, moving to set it on the nightstand, “Your room is … big.”

You grew a bit nervous as the bed dipped beside you and Bucky took a seat. You always felt his strong energy, even last night, but now it was a bit overpowering. You blamed it on the approaching full moon and tried to ignore it, “You don’t like it?”

“No, no, I like it. It’s … simple,” Bucky tried his best to register your mood. Were you nervous? That was the last feeling he expected to feel from you. You were always rambling or talking about something you were annoyingly passionate about. 

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asked, his head turned to you. 

You didn’t answer him, “What do you know about the Stark pack?”

Bucky’s hands folded together and his jaw clenched as reality set in, “I sense you know of your father’s plans.”

“I had a suspicion,” You sighed.

“And … you’re unhappy with his decision?” 

You were quiet for a moment, “What if it isn’t a good idea?”

“I’m sure … I’m sure your father wouldn’t lead you astray. The man infuriates me but he’s usually quite wise …”

“You’re right …” You said, staring back at the Alpha who seemed to be experiencing a whirlwind of emotions behind his eyes, “My nightmares, they just make me nervous for the future-”

“You could stay,” Bucky stated quickly, sure of himself. His hand touched your thigh and your eyes began to widen, “With me, I mean. And, of course, Monica would be here too.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, “You don’t mean … I’m an Omega, Alpha Bucky.”

A thin smile pulled at his lips, “I’ve noticed that, yes. Believe me, my offer does not come from a place of ignorance. I’ve been thinking about this, I promise, and it could be good for both of us. You could stay near your sister and I could …”

It took everything in you to push away from that bed, “My Dad would be livid. Beyond livid, actually. And Peter. The treaty. It would throw everything off balance, Alpha Bucky.” He stood, his shadow draping over you as you took a hesitant step back. 

“Who needs balance if there is a connection here. My wolf feels yours, they’re drawn to each other, I know you can sense that.”

“Bucky-”

“Listen, little wolf, please,” He insisted, stepping closer, “I’ve never been sure before, not in my entire life. This, I am sure about.”

You shook your head, “Well, I am not,” Bucky’s eyes seemed to darken, “I like you and there’s a connection, yes, but as my father’s daughter, I have responsibilities. I respect him too much to go behind his back. You have to understand that.” 

“You came here tonight. That night in the forest. You didn’t know it but you called me to your room last night. What am I supposed to make of your advances-”

“Advances? I thought you were a friend-”

“Stop,” He commanded, leaving your body frigid from the power of his voice, “Don’t move.”

He took your face into his hands and you whimpered, “Bucky, I gave you the wrong impression.”

“No, you may not know it yet but this is what your wolf wants. We’re animals, underneath it all, and there’s only so much we can control our own desires,” You pushed against his chest when he smashed his lips on yours. You bit down on your bottom lip, wishing your feet would push you further away from him. When he pulled away, he was grinning, blood on his lips, “Biting, huh? I’m happy to play along with your game.”

You opened your mouth but he was too quick, “Don’t scream, little wolf. The screaming is the next part.”

His hands move to your waist, pulling you into his muscular body. He kissed you again, kissing the sides of your mouth and chin.  Your hands pulled into small fists as he held you, his touch sending foreign feelings through your body. You felt an overwhelming warmth, more than his body heat, but the warmth of the bond his own wolf felt for yours. His mouth met with your neck and that's when your lips parted and moans escaped your lips. 

“Please,” Was all you could manage. “Please stop.”

Your mouth was saying one thing but it was clear to him that you enjoyed his touch, “Don’t think of me like the bad guy, Omega. When I’m your Alpha, I won’t be like Fury. I’ll let you be who you are, you won’t be just an object to pawn off for power. You’ll be my Omega but you’ll stand beside me, not behind. You’ll be happy with me. I can take the nightmares aways, remember?”

“No, no,” You resisted, knowing deep down that he was that darkness in your dream. You were right to be scared but you hadn’t suspected that you should be scared of me, “M-My father will challenge you a-and you’ll lose any respect you once had.”

He grabbed you roughly by your chin, his forehead pressed against yours as he held your body, “I’ve never cared much for puritanical pack society … why should I care now, Omega?”

You sniffled, “Because you care about me?”

“You’re young, little wolf. I don’t expect you to fully understand but it's because I care that I have to do this. It will only hurt for a little while, okay?” He wasn’t asking for permission and as he pulled his face from yours, his eyes went black, and you were already screaming as his sharp canines protruded from his mouth. 

He pulled your head to the side, sinking his teeth into your shoulder. As you collapsed, he kept you in his arms, and you both went down to your knees. It was an indescribable pain, paralyzing, until it wasn’t. Your vision blurred as it felt like the strongest drug rushed through your body. It was not the way you imagined you’d be marked, you surely weren’t in love, and the man who’d claimed you was unhinged. 

As you slipped into the darkness, you heard someone screaming your name. You felt a little hope that you’d be saved but you couldn’t hold on longer. 

You grabbed your shoulder instantly as your eyes shot open, roughly pulling yourself from slumber. You winced, your hand running over the bandaged skin, as you realized the magnitude of the situation. Taking a moment to look around your surroundings, you found that you were somewhere that you didn’t recognize. 

It was a small, one-room cabin, the living room, kitchen and the bed you were on were all in the same room. A tear slipped down your face as you threw your legs over the side of the bed. Your legs were bare, your bridesmaid dress gone, and a large t-shirt was the only thing that you were wearing. He’d undressed you all the way and had no problem with it, probably due to the fact that he’d bonded you together for life. 

He’d even made sure to bring Mr. Cuddlebear along though you weren’t sure anything could calm you now. 

As you were about to push yourself off the bed, the cabin door opened, and a shirtless, freshly-shifted Bucky appeared. He took one look at you and his jaw clenched. 

“W-Where are we?”

“Couple miles off of my territory,” He stated, shutting the door and walking to the kitchen. As he turned his back, you got up from the bed, moving cautiously towards the fireplace which was closer to the door, “So no one can bother us.”

“My Father, where is he? How did you … without him knowing …” 

He reached into the cabinet, grabbing a glass to fill with tap water. You were eyeing the door, wondering if he was just pretending to be distracted by his task, “Oh, he knew,” Bucky chuckled, “He was livid, like you said, but he couldn’t do anything. He can’t touch you anymore now that you’re bitten. No one can.”

Your face fell, “But-” Bucky turned around and it hit you. The bite reshaped your chemistry and now any Alpha wouldn’t be able to get near you until you were fully mated. Alpha Fury wasn’t coming for you. 

But Monica-

“Monica isn’t coming either, little wolf. Remember, I’m her Alpha now too,” Bucky moved forward, the glass in hand, “You should drink, you lost a good amount of blood.”

You stepped to the side, moving away as he approached, “You knew you’d only hurt me, even when I thought you were my friend.”

His lips pressed into a thin line as he moved closer, “I know that’s how you feel now-” You climbed onto the couch and over it as he moved closer, “Y/N, come here. Now.” You eyed the door, now closer to it than he was. 

“You’re a monster.”

“Little mate, if you continue to not listen to me, I’m going to come over there, throw you over my shoulder, and tie you down to that bed for the next few days because that's just the type of mood I’m in right now.”

“I’ll never. Be. Your mate-”

 The sound of breaking glass made you jump and you watched the cup crumble in his grasp. Almost falling, you made a sprint for the door. As soon as you’d gotten it open, a hand was above you, slamming it closed. He grabbed you by the waist, pulling you back towards the bed. 

He pushed you down onto it, making sure not to put any pressure on your bite, before climbing on top of you. He pinned down your kicking legs, saying, “You’ll hurt yourself, little mate,” He tried to console you, shushing you as you began to whimper, “Please don’t fight it anymore…” But you panicked even more as he lifted your shirt. 

He gripped your thighs tightly, pulling your exposed sex to his mouth. One hand you could barely move because of the bite, the other gripped the comforter tightly, as he kissed between your thighs. Of course you’d never been touched so Bucky would be as gentle as he could manage. He also knew that your new bite would heighten every feeling he gave you and it wasn’t long before you’d be a mewling mess. 

You thought that maybe you’d gone into heat, that’s why his touch felt so good, but you were very wrong. You could only imagine what it would feel like when your body craved to be pregnant. He cooled your fire, and within thirty seconds you were already having your first orgasm. He kept his mouth on you as you rode out the pleasure, not letting you take any breaks as he began to kiss up your body, moving the shirt further and further up your body. 

He kissed over your mark which sent waves of pleasure through you, making him growl, “You’re mine, little mate,” Then he kissed your lips as you moaned against them. As he positioned himself between your legs, you knew what was coming. 

“Bucky, please. I-I’m scared.”

“It’ll hurt just for a little while,” He assured you, reaching above you to grab Mr. Cuddlebear, “Hold on to your bear, little wolf.”

You held the stuffed bear tightly against your chest as he positioned himself at your entrance. You could feel how big he was even as you tried to avoid eye contact with him. Looking away didn’t last long as he grabbed your chin, making sure he could see your face as he slid each inch inside of you. He stretched you open, taking the air from your lungs, as you tried to adjust to the feeling. 

“That’s it, I’ve got you,” He grunted, leaning down to kiss your chin. He’d slowly pull in and out of you, letting you get used to him. He kissed over your mark again, easing the pain, and turning your whimpers into moans, “Good girl, my good girl.”

“Please,” You started to wish for him to push you over the edge, to give you another orgasm, not for him to let you go. He kissed you, using his hand to rub your sensitive bulb as he pushed in and out of you, “Please, please - ah!”

Your back arched and your senses were delighted as an orgasm ripped through you. He didn’t slow, speeding up his pace, as he went back to kissing over your bite. He reached below you, pulling you further down onto his member. He was animalistic, every natural instinct in his body telling him to pleasure you until you couldn’t walk anymore and to round your belly. 

You came again, this time at the same time as him, your bodies melting together as he released within you. As he laid against you, catching his breath, you could see the setting sun shining through the window. He wasn’t anything like you feared and maybe that's why you trusted him so easily.

“You’ll be happy with me one day, I promise,” He kissed your wet cheeks. 

Part of you hoped you could trust him again because, after all, that mark was forever.

[from-the-clouds]

Kiss Me More (Part II) - Zemo/Reader

Masterlist || Part One

Summary: Part two, read part one if you haven’t already! Sam & Bucky put reader in charge of looking after Zemo....again. Series loosely inspired by this song.

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: Kissing, heavy petting, mentions of sex, minor TFATWS spoilers.

A/N: Wow! I was so shocked on the feedback I got on the first part of this story. It has nearly 800 notes. I’m not used to my writing getting that kind of attention so I really appreciate the love. I decided to make this into at least a 3-4 part series and there will be eventual smut, but I feel like there’s something sweet between these two that goes beyond an obvious physical attraction, so I do want to build that a bit before we get there. This weekend I rewatched TFATWS & Civil War because I’m officially obsessed with Zemo lol. Please let me know what you think, and let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist. :) 

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“Keep an eye on him.”

Y/N watched Bucky and Sam split off again. That was now at least the third time she’d heard that phrase since she arrived in Riga. Little did they know, she was probably the worst person to be put in charge of Zemo. Truthfully, it was starting to be a little insulting.

It was unclear why she’d been brought along on this mission, when half the time Sam and Bucky were talking in hushed tones just out of her earshot. There was always more to the story than they told her, but this time, it felt like she was more out of the loop than ever.

She adjusted the neckline of the sweater she wore out of an abundance of caution, checking subconsciously to make sure it hadn’t exposed the mark Zemo had left on her from the day before. It was a discovery she’d made that morning, and persisted despite her efforts to cover it up with makeup.

“According to those two, I must be the best at babysitting you,” she muttered under her breath. It was petty, so she wasn’t even sure if she wanted him to hear. But he did.

“Babysitting?” Zemo lifted an eyebrow. 

“You know, a nanny, a governess….whatever a Baron’s equivalent is,” she said, looking him in the eye for the first time that day, which was a mistake. He looked so handsome in that long, fur-lined coat, tall and refined, hair styled perfectly. There had to be warrants out for his arrest since escaping prison, and in his current getup, he was hard to miss. 

It wasn’t easy to ignore the stifling tension between them. The Baron hadn’t left her thoughts since she’d closed the door on him the evening before. Now they were alone again. She couldn’t decide if that was thrilling or terrifying, so she decided on both.

“It’s nice of them to give us some alone time,” Zemo stepped close to her, one gloved hand pressing between her shoulder blades. Despite the cool temperature outside, it was the first thing today that had her shivering. 

“Walk with me,” he commanded sternly. She saw no opportunity to refuse as they started in the direction opposite of where Bucky and Sam had disappeared. 

“Zemo-”

“Helmut,” he corrected her. “But go on…”

“We have to focus on figuring out where Donya’s funeral will be,” she said, feeling his hand slide down to settle on the small of her back, trying to inch away, but he just pulled her closer. “We can’t waste time.”

“I know Riga inside and out, that won’t be as difficult as you and your friends think,” he murmured. His proximity was already suffocating. Or maybe comforting. It was hard to tell. “Tell me, what is your business with them? You aren’t an Avenger. This was my first time hearing your name.”

She snorted, finally finding the strength to pull away, and he dropped his hand. That was one thing that had confounded her. He was confident, took liberties with what others would allow, but knew when to stop pushing. There was something alluring to his nature. 

“I’m not,” she responded, wondering how much she was willing to share. When she stole a glance out of the corner of her eyes, his head was lowered, leaning in, listening intently for her response. She wondered if he really cared, or if he was good at pretending. It was easy to believe that he did.

“Bucky and I aren’t that different,” she continued. “That’s why we’re friends. I’m not a super soldier, but I was taught how to fight, how to kill. I followed orders for too long without questioning whether or not I was doing the right thing. And at least now, I think I am.”

“You think,” he repeated, and corrected her again like he had the day before. As much as she wanted some kind of clever or quick quip back, she wore her heart on her sleeve for the moment and shrugged. There was nothing to defend when she still wasn’t sure what responsibilities she had in this world. 

Zemo halted, and she paused too, turning back to look at him. “So you were an assassin,” he murmured, reaching out. Nodding slightly, she lowered her eyes when his gloved thumb brushed across her face. The buttery, overpowering smell of leather took her over as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I would’ve never guessed. Du bist so süß.”

Her knowledge of German was limited, but she could see a flash of what looked like affection in his eyes. He couldn’t be lying, could he? She wondered. She wanted to trust that he wasn’t, wanted to identify every good part of him she could, so she could justify the overwhelming attraction she felt towards him. Something in her just kept pulling forward against her will, like a magnet.

“You’d be surprised,” she answered, but didn’t pull away. The intensity of his gaze made her feel weak, but there was something strangely reassuring in his eyes. It was just the two of them, standing on a crowded sidewalk.

She rose her hand to clasp around his, frowning when she felt the hard loop of a ring on one of his gloved fingers. It had gone unnoticed by her, until now. He still wore a wedding band. 

It would have been easy to vocalize the observation, gauge his reaction, try to regain some upper hand and remind him who exactly he was dealing with. But, it would’ve been pointlessly cruel, as she knew what that felt like to answer that question. Those days were behind her, now. 

As if the universe was scolding her, a loud car horn broke through the perceived silence. His hand dropped from her face, and they began to walk again. 

“I had lots of time to think in prison,” he said after a heady pause in conversation. “About the things I’d done. Whatever intentions you have, to someone, you’re always the enemy. What I thought was important, trying to serve the greater good, it isn’t always worth the trouble. I was trying to protect what I had already lost, the places and people I’d taken for granted.”

Deciphering his words, she took a moment before responding. “That’s actually...very insightful,” she said, partly surprised by what he’d shared, appreciating that he felt her vulnerability, and matched it in his response.

“I know you’re stunned I’m not a brute,” he answered, increasing his pace to a determined strut rather than a lazy stroll. She was forced to keep up with him. “You’ve been told what to think about me by Sam and Bucky.”

She scoffed. “Not just them. The entire world. All the people you’ve hur-”

He halted and turned to face her so quickly, she collided with his chest and her breath caught in her throat. 

“I’m not that man anymore,” his voice was nearly a growl, disgust laced in his features as he looked down at her. 

But as soon as she recognized it, he became expressionless again, backing away. Falling back into step beside him, they continued to walk, a bit faster than they had been before. She followed him, at this point convinced that she might get lost without his guidance, but a little startled by his sudden change in behavior.

“What do you think of Riga?” he asked her as they cut through an alleyway. His voice held none of the venom that it had a few moments ago, so she wondered if she’d just hit a sore nerve.

“It’s beautiful,” she answered, admiring the old brick buildings and fine architecture. “But I think I haven’t had much of a chance to appreciate it.”

“Have you been thinking about me?”

They ducked under an alcove, and she realized he’d carefully led her off the crowded streets. It was much quieter here. She suddenly didn’t feel as protected as she had been with him in the open. The temperature in the shaded space was much lower than expected. And he was standing over her, waiting for some response she didn’t know if she could give. 

“I haven’t forgotten about last night, liebling,” he continued. 

Of course she had been thinking of him. Nearly nonstop. What they’d shared, what it meant. She hadn’t been able to sleep until she relieved herself, fingers rubbing her clit and delving into her warmth, whimpering his name when she finally came. Still, it had done little to quell the ache inside her. 

It was a horrible thing, she’d decided. Objectively horrible, and unprofessional. There was the consideration of accessibility. What did he see in her beyond a means to an end? Was she really going to throw everything she’d worked for away to a man who was going to use her to scratch an itch?

Too much was at stake, Sam and Bucky’s trust, her reputation, her job, and she couldn’t allow it to go on. 

But oh, how much she wanted it to. 

“Yesterday was nice,” she straightened up, holding her own. “I won’t lie to you.”

The corner of his mouth tugged up slightly in a self-satisfied smirk. 

“But I’m not foolish,” she continued. “Coming on to the first woman you see after you get out of jail? Seems pretty convenient.”

At first, the Baron tilted his head to the side, his brows pulled together at her words. But after a moment, the smile returned, and he chuckled. “Is that what you think this is about?”

“Don’t insult me, Helmut,” she said sternly, trying her best not to feel embarrassed. She was only being honest.

“Are you always so severe to yourself?” he asked, tutting lightly. 

It would have been better to say nothing. Why give him anything at all? 

She didn’t answer his question, just backed away from him and began walking in no particular direction, wanting only to increase the space between them and regain her common sense. That was impossible however, as she was jolted backwards before she even knew what was happening, a firm hand on her upper arm, and she was chest to chest with Zemo once more. 

“We were in Madripoor together. I could’ve had my way with many women there if I wanted. But I didn’t.”

“Please-” she rolled her eyes.

“If all I wanted to do was fuck someone, I could have done it by now,” he stalked forward, the air pressure around them dropping, weighed by the tension hanging thick between them. “But that’s not what I want. I want you.”

His words, spoken in a soft, low purr rattled away every bit of resolve she had left in her. Some last ditch effort found her stepping backwards, but her body met the brick wall behind them and she realized he had her cornered. 

In more ways than one, she thought.

Taking in a shaky breath, she looked up at his eyes, clouded with lust. “I know you want me,” he said, not a shred of doubt in his voice. But why should there have been? He was right. 

Her eyes darted around, like someone or something around them was going to jump out and save her from herself. It didn’t go unnoticed. “There’s no need to be scared, liebling. I feel it, too.”

With that, he closed the gap between their lips. He tasted sweet, like the candies he’d been eating back at his flat. Turkish delight. She was drowning in him again, his scent, his touch, everything about him enveloped and beguiled her. Her shirt had bunched up slightly somewhere along their walk and his gloved hands explored the exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. 

She surrendered, letting him tease open her mouth and claim her wholly. It was still bad, she knew. But there wasn’t any last bit of self-control left in her. 

The layers of clothing between them didn’t allow for the same proximity she’d had to him the evening before. Groaning in delight and frustration, she reached up to tangle and rake her fingers through his hair, as his fingers curled around the top of her sweater, revealing the sensitive skin of her neck. 

“Don’t hide this,” his lips left hers as his eyes focused on the stamp of affection he’d left behind the day before. “Let them see.”

“You know I can’t,” she responded, sheepishly pulling it back into place. Studying her with amiable consideration, his hand rose to brush tenderly across her cheekbone. 

“I thought you’d come to me last night,” she confessed, drawing away slightly, shocked by her own admission. But right now, she didn’t feel the need to put up as much of a facade. He looked positively virile; panting, his cheeks flushed and hair mussed, pupils blown out as he focused on her. To know she was the cause of his current state of disarray gave her an immense amount of satisfaction. A buried, salacious part of her wondered what else she could do to make him look even more unkempt.

“I considered it,” he said, sounding almost timid. “But I want to do this right.” He leaned in, pressed a kiss beneath her ear. “In private, so no one can disturb us,” he continued, lips moving down her neck. “We can take our time, you can be as loud as you’d like.”

The mental image he was currently painting for her was doing very little to strengthen her convictions, whatever those had been. The thought of her legs wrapped around his torso, naked bodies pressed together sent a bolt of electricity through the pit of her stomach, radiating outwards. She wanted his lips on every inch of her skin. Aching at the possibility, the present tease of his teeth nibbling on her collarbone wasn’t helping.

“You know we can’t,” she didn’t try to stop the thought as it came out of her mouth.

“What is there to lose?”

Everything, she thought, but didn’t answer. She couldn’t really, as his gloved hand was trailing slowly under her jacket and sweater, against her bare skin, and cupping her breast through her bra. Whimpering, she couldn’t control the way her body arched against his.

Hooking her knee on his hip, she let him press forward, feeling the warmth of his excitement through his trousers and her jeans. He ground against her once, teasingly, and she moaned softly into his mouth. 

He was the one to pull away, and she was thankful he did. “Think about it, liebling,” he said softly, pressing a tender kiss to her temple. “Du hast die Kontrolle.”

“We can’t,” she answered again, but even she didn’t believe herself. Raking her hands through her hair and adjusting her rumpled sweater, she straightened up. “We have a job to do.”

Brushing past him out of the alcove, each step she took away from him gave her the self control she desperately needed. She glanced over her shoulder to see him reluctantly trudging behind. At this point, she wasn’t foolish. There were only two ways this could end.

----

Part III

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Let me know if you’d like to be tagged, or if I forgot to tag you for some reason! :)

[cherienymphe]

Fallen Angels (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

WARNINGS: Cop!Bucky, mentions of kidnapping, NON-CON, trusting reader

IF ANY OF THIS OFFENDS YOU, PLEASE DNI

This takes place in the same universe as Protect & Serve. You don’t need to read Protect & Serve to follow along as this takes place before Protect & Serve

➥ {page breaks done by @whimsicalrogers​}

summary:  Bucky thinks you’re the sweetest thing to grace this earth, and he’ll do the unspeakable to get what he wants

~

You heaved another sigh as you made your way up the steps to the police station. It was warm out, a soft breeze ruffling the bottom of your dress. The sun beat down on your face, making you squint, the heat only adding to your annoyance. You didn’t even know why you got annoyed anymore. It wasn’t as if this was exactly new for you.

“Y/N!”

You threw the woman behind the counter a small strained smile, shoulders sagging as you approached her.

“Hi, Jane,” you sadly said. “I’m here for my sister.”

There was a spark of recognition in her eyes, nodding while returning your strained smile.

“Of course.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, turning away as she disappeared into the back. You swallowed, briefly reaching up to rub your forehead and resisted the urge to a sigh again. You couldn’t believe that you had to leave work yet again to come and deal with your sister’s neverending drama. 

You turned as soon as you heard a door open, watching a familiar face bring another familiar face into the room, his large frame making her look small. Officer Barnes greeted you with his usual smile while you returned it with a sheepish one. How many times had you watched him carry her through that door? How many times had you felt sheer embarrassment at her behavior? 

“Where was she?” you quietly asked.

“Stumbling through the park,” he said with a shrug.

“Thank you,” you breathed, genuinely meaning it. “I can never thank you enough.”

How many times had you thanked him?

“Hey,” your sister slurred, eyes bleary as she struggled in his firm hold, legs trembling. “Don’t talk about me...like I’m not here.”

“Sorry,” you murmured, and she rolled her eyes, head falling back.

You reached for her, but Officer Barnes shook his head.

“Let me help her to your car. It’s the least I can do,” he said.

You started to argue, but decided against it and swallowed your words. You led him outside, the mumblings of your drunk sister reaching your ears. He was gentle as he placed her into the passenger seat, and you frowned at her as she laid her head on the dashboard.

“Really, thank you,” you said, looking to him as soon as he shut the door.

He folded his arms over his chest, leaning against your car as he gazed at you with a look you couldn’t place. He did that a lot.

“I can’t keep letting her off the hook forever, you know,” he told you, making your heart drop.

You knew that. You had known it for a while, probably since the second time. You didn’t know why Officer Barnes, and the station by extension, always let your sister off easy every time she was found drunk somewhere, but you were grateful nonetheless. You couldn’t keep taking advantage of his generosity though.

“How is Officer Wilson?” you asked, changing the subject.

The blue-eyed man smirked at the mention of his roommate and colleague.

“Still as much of a pain in my ass as ever,” he answered, making you chuckle.

“You know, as much as you insult him, I think you’d really miss him if something ever happened to him,” you said with a grin.

Officer Barnes joined you, eventually nodding with a smile of his own.

“You’re probably right. He’s still a pain though,” he agreed, walking with you to your side of the car.

You paused when you placed your hand on the door, swallowing with your eyes to the ground before looking to him again. You really couldn’t appreciate him enough, but like he said, you knew he couldn’t continue to let your sister off of the hook.

“I really hope this will be the last time,” you whispered.

Officer Barnes frowned, dark brows lowering as he heaved a sigh, sounding as tired as you felt.

“Did you ever think…”

He paused, shifting on his feet before continuing.

“Maybe a few days in jail will do her some good. I mean, what kind of lesson can she learn if you keep bailing her out?”

You couldn’t say that you hadn’t considered it, but you sadly shook your head.

“I can’t do that to her. She’s family,” you quietly replied.

He studied you for a bit before nodding, running his eyes over you with a soft hum.

“No, of course not. You’re too sweet for that,” he said.

You blinked, unsure of how to respond to that, so you simply thanked him again and said your goodbyes. He didn’t move as you got in and drove off, his stare piercing your rearview mirror until he was nothing but a speck in the distance.

When you finally arrived home, your sister was barely able to stand at all. You got her as far as the living room before your arms gave out, depositing her onto the couch. After placing a small trash can beside her, you went into the kitchen to make some coffee and put together a little hangover concoction that you’d been using for years.

As she slept off the alcohol, you couldn’t help but to think about Officer Barnes’ words. Not just him admitting that this couldn’t go on forever, something you already knew, but his proposal to let your sister spend a few nights in jail. You had thought about it. That wasn’t a lie, but you didn’t think it’d do any good. It wasn’t that simple. Your sister needed professional help.

You wondered if you could get Officer Barnes or even Officer Wilson to help you out with that. You didn’t think that your sister would react too kindly to an intervention. You suddenly shook your head, telling yourself that you needed to stop relying on them so much. Especially Officer Barnes. 

You’d known them both for years, ever since they moved to the city during your 3rd year of college. They’d been mere officers in training then. You remembered even having a slight crush on Officer Wilson, but that had died the minute they found your sister the first time, wandering around the city drunk and belligerent. You had been so embarrassed, telling yourself that no one in their right mind would get mixed up with a family like yours, no matter how small it was.

Officer Barnes was always the one to find her. He never judged her nor did he ever hint that he was even thinking any kind of negative thoughts. He’d always been much nicer than either of you deserved, and you mentally reminded yourself to bake him some cookies. You suspected that his love for your food was the main reason he let your sister off the hook time and time again.

It was hours later, when you were taking the fresh cookies out of the oven, when you heard your sister stir. You turned just as she stumbled into the kitchen, struggling to open her eyes. You grabbed her a cup.

“I made coffee. It’s not as fresh as I would like it to be but…”

You trailed off, handing it to her. Her eyes were wide open now, and she gratefully took it, gulping it down.

“Thank you,” she breathed as soon as she was done.

The silence was awkward, and the smell of fresh cookies wafted through the air. It was an odd picture.

“So,” you started, playing with your fingers. “What was it this time?”

Your sister heaved a sigh, setting her mug down as she leaned against the counter.

“I got fired today.”

Your face fell, shoulders dropping as sympathy tore through you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, meaning it.

“Don’t be. It beats sleeping with my decrepit former boss,” she scoffed.

Your eyes widened as you registered the implication behind her words, and your heart clenched. You stepped towards her, reaching out.

“Are you serious? T, we should tell someone. File a lawsuit or something-.”

Her laugh cut you off, and you frowned at her.

“Have you met the guy? He has more money than either of us could ever dream of. It’d be a waste of time,” she sneered.

You shook your head.

“You don’t know that. You’re probably not the only woman he’s done this to. I’m sure with the right lawyer-.”

“This is the real world, Y/N? Where those in power take advantage of the rest of us as they see fit,” she told you, making your frown deepen.

Your bit your lip, not exactly agreeing with her but opting to swallow your words. You watched as she neared the pan of cooling cookies and ran her eyes over them with a light scoff.

“Who is this for? Officer Barnes?” she mockingly wondered, a look of disgust on her face.

“Yes, actually,” you said, ignoring her tone and reaching to get a plate. “Do you want one?”

“You should really stay away from him, you know.”

“Well, that’s kind of hard to do when you keep getting arrested for public intoxication,” you threw back.

You immediately cringed, turning to face her, surprised to find not an offended look on her face, but merely a shocked one. She crossed her arms over her chest, tilting her head at you.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed. “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just… He’s a nice man, T. A good man. Much more than we deserve. Anyone else would have put you before a judge a long time ago.”

She chuckled, reaching past you to grab a cookie.

“Gee, I wonder why that is.”

Her tone confused you, and she shook her head at you.

“The guy’s a creep. No amount of friendly smiles can hide that,” she tossed over her shoulder as she left the kitchen.

You frowned at her words before shaking your head and sliding the cookies onto a plate.

A week later, you were thankful that your sister seemed to be doing better. Normally she needed a month to really get herself together to at least try and get back on her feet again, but her uncharacteristic behavior both shocked you and made you proud. However, when your doorbell rang at almost 1 in the morning, you realized that you had spoken too soon.

“Oh my God,” you breathed.

You had swung the door open and come face to face with none other than Officer Barnes and your sister, the latter almost keeled over. She would have been face first into the ground if it wasn’t for the man holding her up.

“Her room is this way,” you told him as soon as you let him in.

She mumbled a few times as he followed your lead, quieting altogether when he placed her on her bed. He made sure that she was on her side, and you heaved a tired sigh as he followed you down the hall.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-.”

“Hey,” he said, grabbing your shoulder and stopping you.

You turned to face him, shaking your head.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, much quieter this time.

Officer Barnes just stared at you, brows drawn together as he rubbed your shoulder, attempting to calm you down.

“It’s okay-.”

“No, it’s not. I really...I really thought this time would be different. I did.”

“I know you did-.”

“...and there are actual criminals out there who need to be dealt with but instead you’re here dealing with me and my sister again.”

You placed your hands over your face as your voice cracked, and your shoulders trembled as you held in all of the emotions threatening to spill.

“God, all of the cookies in the world can’t make up for what we put you through,” you sighed.

He pulled your hands away from your face, and you looked away from him.

“Hey…”

You wouldn’t meet his eyes, and he let go of one of your hands to place it under your chin. He made you look at him, and his blue eyes searched your face as he smiled at you.

“This is my job. I’m not going out of my way to do anything here, okay? It’s okay.”

You reluctantly nodded before your eyes found the floor again.

“She needs help,” you said, finally admitting it outloud. “Professional help. The 12 steps kind.”

There was a brief silence before the dark-haired man spoke.

“I can help with that, get her into some meetings,” he offered.

“Would you? I...I didn’t want to ask because you do so much for us already, but…”

You crossed your arms over your chest as you looked at him. He rested his hands on his hips, tilting his head at you with a slight frown.

“Now, Y/N… How long have I known you and your sister? I’m always happy to help you two out in any way I can. You know that,” he told you, lips quirking up just a tad. 

“More than we deserve,” you murmured

He looked as if he was going to say something else, but you continued before he could. 

“Do you want something to drink before you go? I usually make her some coffee,” you offered.

His smile widened as he looked at you, eyes twinkling with something you couldn’t name.

“I’d love to.” 

His steps were light as he followed you into the kitchen, and you wondered if his stealth was just part of the job or if he was always that way. He didn’t say much as you moved throughout the kitchen, opting instead to watch you as you turned on the coffee pot.

“I think I have some leftovers from last night,” you told him.

“I’d love some.”

As you made to fix him some food to take with him, you found yourself humming a bit, a habit. So immersed in your tasks, you’d almost forgotten that he was there until he spoke again.

“You’re going to make some man a very happy husband one day.”

You threw him a smile over your shoulder.

“You sound like my dad,” you complained, thinking of the man who you hadn’t seen in years.

“A harmless compliment, I promise. You’re just so sweet...and you can cook better than any chef in the city,” he elaborated.

“Well, we’ll see what the future holds,” was all you said as you handed him a container of food.

You moved to get his coffee for him when he spoke again.

“Any man would be crazy not to snatch you up and beg you to have his children,” he said with a chuckle.

You joined him, shrugging as you handed him a to-go cup full of steaming coffee.

“That would be nice, but I can’t have kids,” you said.

Officer Barnes’ smile fell, eyes widening just a bit as he blinked. If it wasn’t for you, he would’ve dropped his coffee.

“What?” he murmured.

You shrugged again, throwing him a small smile.

“I can’t have kids.”

He looked like he didn’t know what to say, and he frowned, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you told him, placing your hand on his arm. “I’m not bothered by it anymore. I used to be, but… I figured that some people just aren’t meant to have children, and that’s ok.”

You turned away from him, moving to clean up your mess. You could still feel his eyes on you.

“It’s why I work at a nursery. I love it, and sometimes I think to myself that if I had children of my own, I wouldn’t have time for the dozens I see every day.”

You leaned your back against the counter, facing him as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I like to believe that everything happens for a reason.”

Officer Barnes smirked at you, a light chuckle escaping him, face pinched as if he was thinking hard about what you said, dark hair curling around his ear.

“That’s a nice way of looking at things.”

You shrugged, leading him to the door.

“My sister doesn’t exactly share my sentiments, so it’s nice to hear that you do,” you confessed, opening the door for him. “Thank you again, Officer Barnes.”

He playfully narrowed his eyes at you.

“How many times must I tell you?”

“Sorry, sorry,” you said with a groan. “Bucky. It’s a force of habit.”

“Well, I’m kindly asking you to kick it,” he lightly replied as he stepped outside.

“Drive safe.”

He paused, blinking at you before nodding.

“I will, and I’ll talk to someone about getting your sister into some meetings.”

You waved him off, a slight frown overtaking as you heard your sister retching from down the hall. With a sigh, you closed the door and turned to go tend to her like you always did.

The weeks that followed were better, the best you’d had in a long time. True to his word, Bucky got information on some meetings, and surprisingly, your sister agreed that she needed more help than you alone could provide. You drove her to, and picked her up, from every one. You’d always felt like the older sister despite the opposite being true, but it was glaring now more than ever.

Her behavior was improving, and you constantly prayed that it would last. You knew that recovery wasn’t always a smooth journey, plenty of people relapsing, but that didn’t seem to be the case for your sister. She had gotten another job, was keeping up with her meetings, and hadn’t even looked at a bottle of alcohol in weeks. She was just her normal cynical self...until she wasn’t.

You tapped your finger on the steering wheel, watching as the last person left the building. You waited a few moments, hoping that she would be the last person, but she never came out. Hurriedly stepping out of your car, you made your way to someone who hadn’t driven off yet. You could tell that you had startled them by knocking on their window, and you apologized the minute they cracked it. You asked them if your sister was still inside, and your heart sank at their answer.

“She never showed up.”

Your lips parted, brows furrowing as you registered their words. Unsure of how to respond, you simply took a step back, allowing them to drive off. It was late in the evening, and the parking lot was now empty, and you felt helpless as you looked around, as if waiting for your sister to appear.

She had never showed up?

You had dropped her off yourself. You had seen her walk into the building with your own eyes. You wondered if something had happened, something to send her over the edge again, and with a heavy heart, you got back into your car and headed home. You waited up most of the night, expecting a call from the police station or even a knock on your door, but your phone never rang and your door was undisturbed. You hadn’t meant to, but before you knew it, you had fallen asleep.

Your notifications were just as empty when you woke up the next morning, and your stomach churned as you sat there alone. You had the most awful feeling in your gut, and despite the fact that this should seem like a normal act for your sister, you couldn’t help but feeling like it wasn’t.

Later that day, you drove to the police station. For someone who swore not to rely on Bucky as much anymore, you were doing a poor job of it. He was happy to see you, and that made you feel even worse. Bucky was always happy to help you, and you constantly felt like you were taking advantage of it.

Your worry must have been written on your face though because his smile soon fell. He walked you outside of the station, and you quietly followed.

“It’s my sister,” you immediately said. “She’s missing.”

He eyed you for a bit, eyes narrowing just a tad as he thought. He folded his arms over his chest.

“Are you sure?”

You knew what he wasn’t saying. Your sister wasn’t exactly the most reliable, and absences weren’t unusual for her. He was right to be skeptical.

“They said she never showed up at her meeting. I dropped her off myself, and even if she wasn’t really going, she’d at least pretend like she was. She wouldn’t want me to worry and...and that’s all I seem to be doing,” you murmured.

Bucky placed his hands on your shoulders, massaging them as he attempted to console you.

“Alright. Have you called her?”

“She doesn’t have a cell phone,” you told him. “She can never keep a job long enough to.”

He nodded at that.

“I know that for adults, they need to be missing for at least 48 hours to be treated as a missing persons case. I know that, but…”

You trailed off, and Bucky understood, nodding.

“Hey?”

Your eyes met his, and he sent you a small smile.

“I’ll do what I can. I’m going to find her, alright?”

You gave a shaky nod. He told you to go home and let him handle everything. And thats what you did. The house felt too quiet, and uncomfortable, you started cleaning and cooking. In the midst of all of that, you called your father to tell him what was going on, but it was in vain. As usual, he didn’t answer his phone, and you found yourself wondering if your family was cursed. Your father was too indifferent, your sister too cynical, and you were too nice.

Despite the fact that you felt like you shouldn’t, you went to work. Was it to distract yourself? Oh definitely, but what else were you supposed to do? You didn’t worry until the 4th day had passed and you’d heard nothing from Bucky. He said that he would handle everything, and you trusted him, but you were tempted to go back to the station. However, a knock came on your door one night before you could.

You knew it was him, and you didn’t hesitate to open the door.

“Well?” you anxiously asked, letting him inside.

Bucky’s face was solemn, and you feared the worst, but he simply shook his head.

“Nothing,” he sadly told you.

Your frown deepened, and you frantically blinked away tears.

“Hey,” he quietly said. ‘Hey, none of that, doll.”

You shook your head, stepping back.

“I just feel like this is my fault. Maybe she wasn’t ready. Maybe I pushed her too soon. Maybe-.”

“...and maybe it was all her and had nothing to do with you,” he said, lips pressed together as he looked at you.

You slowly nodded at what he said, not quite believing it.

“Maybe,” you murmured, turning away. “I feel like I should be out there, doing something.”

You heard Bucky approach you, and he tsk’d. 

“No, absolutely not. This city is dangerous, and I can’t look for her properly if I’m worrying about you, now can I?” he said, hands resting on your shoulders.

You turned your head to look at him, taking in his soft expression, his baby blues resting on you. You reluctantly shook your head.

“No, I can’t. So the best thing for you to do is sit tight while I try to find your sister.”

“It’s hard. The house...it’s so quiet now. It’s so obvious that she isn’t here, and I hate it,” you whispered. “I’ve never lived alone.”

He hummed, glancing around.

“I don’t have to leave right away. My shift is over, and I could stick around for as long as you want,” he offered, making your heart soar.

“You would do that? I don’t want you to feel obligated to keep me company.”

He grinned at you.

“Never. You just kick me out whenever you get tired of me,” he told you.

You didn’t kick him out. Bucky slept on your couch that night and the night after that and the night after that. His presence was welcoming, comforting, and you found yourself growing used to it. Having known Bucky for years, it was easy to get into a familiar groove with him. He started occupying your couch more and more, and feeling so bad about inconveniencing him all because you couldn’t handle being alone, you usually cooked him breakfast before he had to go to work. 

When he wasn’t at work looking for your sister, he was at home with you. Sometimes he cooked with you, or sometimes he fixed something that had been broken for months. He made missing your sister a little easier. You had faith that he would find her, that he’d bring her through that door, drunk and on the verge of sleep like before.

Still, sometimes, you couldn’t help the dark thoughts that assaulted your mind. What if she never came through that door? What if he never found her? Or worse… What if he did? What if he found her in a ditch somewhere, body maimed and ruined from being dead for so long? Despite how much you tried to remain positive, despite how much you wanted to believe otherwise, what if she was gone? 

This was what woke you up out of your sleep one night, on the verge of a panic attack. Your breathing was shallow, eyes unfocused as you fought to calm yourself. You were startled, a shriek leaving you as you felt something brush your arm. Light flooded your room, and your eyes immediately met Bucky’s as he stood beside your bed.

“Didn’t mean to scare you, doll,” he whispered, kneeling beside you. “ I could hear you all the way in the living room.”

“Sorry,” you weakly said, shaking your head. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said, sitting beside you, facing you as he pulled you into his arms.

You hadn’t realized that you were shaking, and Bucky tightened his arms around you.

“What if she’s never coming back? What if she’s dead?” you cried.

“Don’t say that,” he murmured, rocking you. “Don’t think the worst.”

“But-.”

He shushed you, cutting you off, and you couldn’t fight the tears as they spilled over. His hand brushed over your back, and you closed your eyes as he held you, not taking note of what was happening until his lips met yours. Your eyes flew open as confusion filled you.

You struggled to pull away, but Bucky’s hold was firm. His mouth moved over yours, and your eyes were wide as he kissed you. He only pulled away when you struggled to breathe, and you pressed your hands to his chest immediately.

“Bucky what-?”

“It’s alright. Let me make you feel better. Help you forget,” he murmured, leaning in again, but you turned away.

“No!”

You got out of his grip, scooting back against the headboard, looking at him as if he was a stranger. Bucky was frowning at you like you were in the wrong, and your mind was muddled with so many conflicting thoughts.

“What are you doing?” you asked him.

He scoffed at you, narrowing his eyes at you like you had offended him.

“What am I doing? What are you doing? You smile and bat those eyelashes at me-.”

“I-.”

“You invite me into your home. You allow me to stay for as long as I want. You cook me breakfast, hell, we cook together like an old married couple. Are you telling me you intended to just play house forever?”

You were floored, and you flinched as you remembered your sister’s constant words, telling you that you were too nice, too trusting. You stared at Bucky, and you felt like an idiot. More tears sprung forth, and you dug your nails into the palm of your hands. 

“Bucky I…”

You looked down, wanting to be as far away from him as possible.

“I’m sorry if I made you think that...that there was more to this, but that was never my intention. I’m really sorry.”

You heard him heave a long sigh, shrinking in on yourself as he moved closer to you.

“No, I’m the one who should be sorry.”

You looked up at him, and he reached out to touch your chin. The blue of his eyes was a tad darker, colder than you’d ever seen them. 

“I keep forgetting how sweet you are. Too sweet. It’s my fault really, but let me explain how things will work from now on, just so there’s no confusion…”

Your brows drew together, dread swirling in your chest.

“You treat me nice, you be as sweet to me as you always are, and I’ll do everything in my power to find your sister. You don’t...and it’s classified as a simple runaway case.”

You sharply inhaled, mouth dropping open as you registered his words.

“What-?”

“Is that understood?”

He didn’t give you time to respond, pressing his lips to yours again. Your mind was screaming at you to do something, to fight him, get out and go get help. But what if he was telling the truth? Would he really give up on finding your sister if you didn’t sleep with him? Besides, even if you could get away, who could you go to for help? The police was currently pushing you onto your back, lips tasting every inch of you.

Still, you couldn’t help but to fight against him, and Bucky huffed. He paid your trembling hands no mind as he pushed your t-shirt up, fingers trailing over your skin as he did so. You felt like you were having an out of body experience. You almost felt like you were looking down on yourself as he undressed, and you barely fought him as he did the same to you. Your breathing was shallow, and you were certain that you were going to pass out.

“Bucky,” you breathed, pressing your hands against his shoulders.

He simply lowered himself, attaching his mouth to you, making you forget your train of thought for a second. He was like a man starved, tasting you until he was more than satisfied. You hadn’t had sex many times, the few times you did it was great, but this surpassed all of those times, something you never thought possible.

Your legs trembled around him, toes curling, and you reached down to press your hands against his head, trying and failing to push him away. His fingers dug into your thighs, holding them in place while he had his fill of you. Your chest arched upwards, and one of your hands pressed against the headboard, attempting to ground yourself, but Bucky seemed determined to make your head spin.

“Bucky, stop,” you begged, voice cracking. “Please…”

Your next words were lost, the only thing climbing out of your throat being a moan. You tried your best to swallow it down as you came, but Bucky’s tongue and mouth didn’t rest, lapping up your juices as you clenched around the pink muscle. You were still coming down when he climbed over you, and you opened your mouth to stop him, beg him, but he pushed into you without warning. 

A gasp escaped you, a groan of his own leaving Bucky as he immediately began to thrust into you. You placed your hands on his chest, lips trembling as he slid into you over and over again. He kissed you again, taking you by surprise, and you stared up at him in something akin to disbelief.

How did you get here? Bucky was your friend, and somehow, here he was on top of you, forcing pleasure onto you that you never asked for.

“You taste just as sweet as I thought you would,” he murmured, lips grazing the corner of your mouth.

“Bucky,” you quietly begged.

“I always knew you’d be sweet in bed, making the cutest little noises, all soft skin and soft smiles.”

His words confused you, and it occurred to you that this behavior did not come out of nowhere.

“You don’t know how many times I wanted to take you in the back of my cruiser, right there in the station, but you deserved better. You deserved to be kissed like a princess in between your sheets-.”

“Stop,” you begged. 

You wanted him to stop talking. You didn’t want to face how unbelievably stupid and trusting you had been. It hurt too much. He pressed his hips against yours again, his thick cock dragging along your slick walls.

“Your sister wasn’t good for you, doll.”

Your eyes widened as they met his, his brows furrowed in concentration, a bead of sweat on his forehead as his hair hung over his face.

“She was nothing but trouble, always bringing nothing but her problems into your life. You were far too nice to do anything about it...so I did,” he told you, not a hint of humor in his blue eyes.

A horrified gasp escaped you, and you continued your struggle. You felt like you’d been punched in the chest, and your vision was completely blurry from your tears now. You were full on sobbing, but Bucky paid it no mind as he intertwined his fingers with yours, holding your hands down above your head. Every thrust was a brush against that little bundle of nerves, and you felt yourself clenching around him.

“Oh, that’s it,” he purred. “Come around my cock.”

“No, no, no,” you cried, bucking against him, but only making it worse for you.

Your second climax crashed over you like a wave, and like you were drowning, you struggled to breathe. Bucky’s lips felt like they were everywhere, and soon after, you felt him twitch inside of you, coating your walls as he came too. You couldn’t breathe, and you felt the walls of your room closing in.

“I’m the only one who knows where your sister is,” he murmured after catching his breath. “I’m the only one who knows if she’s even okay.”

Your chest was heaving, and you kept thinking to yourself that not enough air was getting in. Bucky wiped the sweat from your hairline, running his eyes over your spent frame as he caged you in even further.

“So if you want to see her again, you know what you need to do.”

The world finally caved in on you.

Even though you couldn’t have kids, it seemed like Bucky was determined to try. Or maybe he just couldn’t get enough of you. Despite the fact that he had a place of his own, he spent all of his free time at your house. His hands never strayed from you, and it seemed like he was kissing you any chance he got. At night, and sometimes in the morning, he enjoyed the feel of you wrapped around him, milking him as he groaned in your ear.

And what could you do but let him? Now knowing the truth, you wondered if you ever knew Bucky at all. How was it possible to hide one’s true self for years? Constantly? You remembered your sister’s last words about him, calling him a creep, and you wondered if he was that good or if you were simply that trusting? 

He acted as if you were a normal couple. He cooked with you, ate with you, watched tv with you, and even bathed with you. Bucky brought you flowers and gifts and pretty dresses he thought you’d look good in. Every time, you thanked him with a smile and could do nothing but accept it as he undressed you. Every time you asked about your sister, every time you built up the courage to, he always dodged the question, and you wondered how long this would go on.

As it turns out, not long at all.

He came to the house one day, angry and frantic and his eyes were searching for you. The minute he spotted you, he pounced. He was rougher than he had ever been, pinning you to the wall as he thrust into you, hand fisting your hair while the other pressed his fingers into your thigh. You felt like he was going to break you, but Bucky paid no mind to your tears. 

You had made your way to the floor when he finally came inside of you, sweaty and angry and gripping you like he’d lose you. You were trembling in his arms when he lifted his head, and you stared at him like he was going to hurt you some more. You watched as he swallowed, running his eyes over you as he reached up to brush his thumb along your lip.

“Sam and I gotta leave,” he breathed.

You blinked at him, frowning.

“It’s all so sudden, but they found some things, and we have to leave.”

You didn’t know what to say, and you stared at him in confusion.

“...but when it’s safe, I’m coming back for you,” he told you, making your heart sink.

“B-Bucky...my-.”

“You want to see her again, don’t you?”

You nodded, and he nodded with you. 

“Okay. Then you’ll wait for me. You don’t tell anybody what you know, and you wait for me. Tell me.”

Scared to say anything else, and scared that you’d never see your sister again, you told him what he wanted to hear.

“I’ll wait for you,” you whispered through trembling lips..

He kissed you, and that was the last time he kissed you for a long time. You didn’t know how many years had passed. 4? 5? 6? You couldn’t keep track and they all blended together. With Bucky gone, you felt more alone than you ever had before. Had your body grown used to his? Grown to crave his even? The man was your rapist. Was that normal?

The house was too painful for you to remain in, so you moved a couple of blocks over. Every day that passed, you wondered how your sister was doing. You wondered where she was. Some days you missed her more than others, and some days you were angry. Why couldn’t she have told you outright what Bucky was like. Surely, she must have known, known better than you.

Some days you were angry at Bucky, and on more than one occasion, you had even been tempted to tell someone what you knew. You hated him for what he did to you, what he’d done to your sister, putting you both through torment. Most days though, you were just angry with yourself. You felt like you deserved some blame in all of this, for being so naive, so trusting, for having faith in everyone until they proved otherwise. 

Work only distracted you for a short time, and the lonely nights came quicker than you liked. Provided that you were able to find sleep, it was normally after a crying fit. It all felt like a strange sort of limbo, and you wondered how long you were meant to endure it. You started to think that Bucky would never come back, you’d never see your sister again, and once again, you’d be an idiot for believing him. But what other choice did you have?

It was one early morning, the sun still yet to rise, when there was a knock on your door. You were riddled with sleep and practically stumbling to the door, but when you opened it, all of your fatigue was gone. Your wide eyes met familiar blue ones, and you felt like the air was sucked out of you.

His hair was shorter, but he otherwise looked the same. He was dressed darkly, as bulky as ever, and you took a step back when he took a step forward. An unfamiliar car was behind him, and you squinted, recognizing Officer Wilson in the passenger seat. Your eyes fell to Bucky again, and the corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk.

“Hi, doll.”

~

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[nothereforyou]

Long Story Short, I Survived

Did someone order some angsty Steve x reader that turns into Bucky x reader?

The first morning without Steve beside you, after five years of having him next to you, is like being doused with cold water. One moment you’d been blissfully asleep, warm under the duvet that still smelled of him, and the next--well, reality could be colder than any river of ice. He’d chosen her, chosen to go back to where he was really from. Maybe he was never yours to begin with, maybe you were living on borrowed time, safe in his arms.

Life restarts slowly without him. At first, it’s not much more than eating, sleeping, and doing what you need to survive. Surviving is...you don’t have words for what surviving is after. Steve is still around, hovering outside the apartment you’d once inhabited together. He drinks coffee in the café across from the building, lets himself in once or twice a week to make sure you’re alive and the place hasn’t completely gone to seed. You scream at him the first time, scream we were happy!, insist he should’ve stayed. The bastard ignores you.

Steve keeps cleaning, you keep surviving.

Before long, you can get out of bed. You clean your own damn apartment, but Steve still comes. He sits on the couch you picked out together, looking irritatingly good and unfazed. He looks like an old man but you still ache for him. Your Steve, your handsome Steve who had fucked you on every surface in this apartment, looked like a grandpa you should be taking for a walk in the park. He’s still your Steve, deep down. He’s still the only man who’s ever made you cum and who made you laugh over brunch and who slipped a ring onto your finger and promised---

Was he ever yours to began with?

You can’t leave the apartment, the entrance of the building is so packed with reporters there’s barely room to get through the doors. You hadn’t realized the love of your life leaving you would include reporters, vying for the story of why Captain America left his wife. You wish they’d get the story and let you know why.

You’d been married less than six months when it all went down. A quickie wedding in a chapel that was somehow still open. You kept the photos on the coffee table and didn’t think too hard about what that meant.

Sam comes, takes you to get coffee. He talks about everything and anything, just not Steve, not the one thing you desperately want to talk about. It’s good to see Sam, to see someone who really knew Steve. He tells you about spending time with his sister, Sarah and her sons. You make it through the afternoon without crying, which is an improvement. As he leaves, he gives you a look that can only be described as pitiful. It makes you want to scream and rip apart one of the throw pillows, to scream from the roof tops that you’re okay and it’s not even that big of a deal that he just left, you’re fine, and for the love of fucking G-d, stop talking about it.

They don’t stop talking about it. You keep surviving.

Bucky coming to visit is a shock. You’d met him once or twice before he was dusted and you’d heard about him during the five years he was missing, but you weren’t friends. He stands in the doorway and stares at you, looking like he wants to turn and run. You stare right back at him, waiting for him to make the first move. You both stand there, staring at each other. After what feels like forever, Bucky wordlessly takes a seat at your kitchen table and stays.

It’s nice to have another person in that lonely apartment. Bucky sleeps on the floor in the living room, comes and goes as he pleases. But he’s there and it’s a stability you didn’t know you were missing. After a few weeks, you start going for walks through the neighborhood. The reporters have left, something else has caught their attention for long enough that they’ve left you alone. (Nobody seemed to be bothering Steve, then again, they probably didn’t know what he looked like. According to the general public, he’s on the moon.) It’s nice to get some fresh air and it’s nice to come home to someone besides the plants. You don’t talk, more often than not, you come home and Bucky’s sitting at the table, eating cold beans. But he’s there and it’s nice.

Steve stops coming and you both mourn. Bucky mourns for an almost what could have been and you mourn for the husband you spent all of six months with. It’s during this mourning when you two really find each other. It starts small, you bring Bucky a cup of coffee in the morning and he grunts his thanks. Bucky cooks breakfast before you leave for work at the bookstore down the street. It’s nice, reminiscent of when Steve was there.

Then Sam gives away the shield.

You’re having a movie night when the news about John Walker comes out. In the six months that he’d lived with you, you’d never seen him so angry. Bucky is seething with anger. He gets up and paces, muttering unflattering comments about Sam.

“Bucky? Is...this...did he…?”  Your voice stops him. You sound so small and fragile. You’d seemed so solid and okay that he forgets you’re not. He forgot that your husband left you and your world crumpled right in front of you. And suddenly, he’s angry again, but not at Sam--that’s for another day--he’s angry at Steve in a way he hasn’t been before. How could he leave you? Beautiful you, who’s good, and makes coffee in the mornings, and smells like roses, and would probably look so pretty spread out underneath him. (That last thought is also for another day, when he can afford to think about what it means that he wants you spread out under him.)

And shit, you’re crying.

Bucky stands there in a panic when you start crying. It’s fucking stupid you’re crying, it doesn’t matter who has the shield, it’s not going to bring Steve back into your life, not in the way that matters. But it had felt like things were going to be okay when you knew that it was Sam who was going to get the shield and the title. Sam, who’s good and kind and who won’t let it corrupt him. This John Walker motherfucker is an unknown. He’s not Steve and he’s not Sam and he looks like the world has never told him no. What’s he going to do with all the power?

Bucky pulls you into his chest, lets your angry tears soak into his shirt. He awkwardly pats your back and pets your hair. Once the tears have dried, it makes you giggle how uncomfortable he is with comforting someone. Bucky smiles down at you, a heart breaking smile that’s too much like Steve’s but also not enough like Steve’s and makes your stomach flip a little, which makes you start crying all over again. After 20 minutes of crying and awkward patting, Bucky scoops you up and carries you to your bed. He lays with you all night, letting you cry and then holding you while you sleep.

It’s his first night in a bed (his first night with a woman, his brain helpfully adds) in...he doesn’t know how long. The thought makes him flee like the coward he is.

You wake up and Bucky’s gone. There’s a note on the table, says he went to ask Sam what this is all about. A knock interrupts your breakfast preparations. “Buck, you don’t have to--” It’s not Bucky, it’s three men in suits, and one John Walker, bearing flowers. You almost punch him, scream that he’s not Captain America and never will be. John thrusts the flowers at you and marches into the apartment as if he owns it. Before you can toss him out on his ass, one of the suits is explaining they have a plan for you and, unless you want them to recall certain activities you’d been apart of. Activities that would make you a war criminal. Activities that would send you to prison for decades.

So you, Captain America’s (ex?)wife, publicly become John Walker’s strongest supporter and girlfriend. The official story is that you’d met during the interviews (if there were interviews for the new Captain America, they hadn’t included you in them), and fallen in love at first sight. You were taking it slow, out of respect for your husband who was still out there somewhere (the moon, maybe?), but you were very much madly in love. Bucky and Sam come home from...wherever they’d been and find you cuddled up to their enemy. Every time John smiles and calls you kitten, every time you have to kiss him, you want to punch him in that stupid face of his.

The police station is a fucking mess. Bucky’s been arrested, the police are being racist and fucking with Sam, and to top it all off, John’s the one who frees Bucky. You’ve known Bucky long enough to know how much this pisses him off and then he spots you and his jaw clenches even harder. You have to hold yourself back from running over to him and explaining what happened. You desperately want to tell him that it’s not what it looks like, that you’re not wearing a stupid, flimsy sundress that brings out John’s eyes because you want to, someone dressed you and this is so you don’t go to prison. A quiet voice reminds you that maybe going to prison for a long time would be worth it if you never had to see that look on his face again. Words are exchanged, Bucky and Sam walk off, John warns them to “stay the hell out of his way”, which doesn’t sound as cool as he thinks it does.

You go home, home to the apartment where Bucky is. He’s at the kitchen table, eating cold beans again. There’s a bag by his feet (when had he collected enough things to have a bag?) and you realize he’s leaving. He’s so mad about Walker that he’s leaving, like Steve did.

“Don’t leave.” Your voice is small in the quiet, dim apartment. “Just...stay. Even if you don’t talk to me, just don’t leave.” “I’m going to talk to Zemo. You stay here with Walker.” Before you can think, before you really consider what it means if you do this, you surge forward and kiss him.

You stand in the kitchen, kissing for a few moments before Bucky pulls away. He stares down at you, looking wild and scared, before turning and walking out the door.

[batarangsoundsdumb]

hae interrogationes multae respondeant quia demens .

if you read this entire ask post you deserve a gold star and financial recompensation

Um, Obviously because when you’re adopted by a white guy you automatically become white duhhh

this is about this post lmao and yeah youre absolutely right, you have to hand your poc card in when you get adopted by a white guy.

Do you think Cass would listen to Yanni, the YouTube channel epic symphonic rock, or some other stuff? There's some cool mashups but idk if that's up your alley, I kinda feel like I'm pushing it with my weird taste of music by recommending an orchestra cover of metal, but i just love that sort of thing and mashups :P @harvestyourcherries 

i haven’t heard of that? but in my personal (correct) opinion steph listens to classical music, and then both modern and older, and then also stuff like black sabbath, iron maiden, but also hardrock and hardcore. i like the idea of cass just liking the most extreme screaming songs full of noise and then also listen to pachelbel’s 370th sonata yanno? THANK YOU for the rec tho

speaking of ur cass playlist hc...reminds of the time (yesterday) i found 2 playlists randomly on spotify from the same user. one was abt 3 hours of instrumental/classical "dark" & "nostalgic" music. the other almost 11 hours of nothing but hardcore bass/synth/electronic music. just an incredible tightrope act to put on in public. the synth one was also called like "psalms for synth sluts" which is Also incredible

tbh i LOVE synth SO MUCH like for no reason at all but then also cannot handle a poppy electronic beat lmao. but this seems like the kinda thing i’d do but just in one (1) playlist bc i just sort songs by vibe instead of genre? that’s how i end up with britney spears and billy ray cyrus in the same playlist. 

Oh, I want Kate Kane playlist next! It would be amazing if you could do one when you have time and will 🙏

how rude would it be of me to just say no? like sorry kate but idk you and also you seem way too keen on the us military for an institution that homophobically targeted you? (and also commits war crimes) but let’s unpack the fact that the institution that caused the death of your mom and sister and also got you blacklisted for being gay is still one you align with???

'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' --- when i tell you i fucking screamed LOL!!!!!!! i can imagine the cameraman not knowing if he should cut to commercial or keep it on these two weirdos fighting on stage (bruce definitely ruffled dick's hair/noogied him right?? 

about this post but yeah lmao. this cameraman just turns to like the audience to get a reaction and it’s just multiple moments of CLEAR shock.

you are the only funny person on this hellsite

how egotistical is it for me to say that i get this ask multiple times a month? bc it literally happens so often it’s hilarious to me.

Wish there was more john/Bruce content 😔😔😔 was so hungry I actually looked at canon media 😔😔😔 (Justice League Dark babeeeyyyyyy)

check out batman: damned for some mediocre content but at least it’s john/bruce (also very interesting story and stuff, just got very >:( over this weird part where harley quinn tried to r*pe bruce or something? it’s not for everyone)

dick grayson but he's nicki minaj

his anaconda don’t want none,,, unless...... 

Dick Grayson was never a cop, he played Marshall on Paw Patrol

you are SO right. also paw patrol is a fucking good show idc. that shit could’ve been the new steven universe on this hellsite.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CS1lI0bLI7-/?utm_medium=copy_link

...

why do people keep reposting my CONTENT. if you are not funny yourself don’t just grab shit off of tumblr and post it on insta,,, get a life. sidenote: should i start an insta and get all these ppl to take my content down that would be funny as hell.

Might I suggest for a Gotham City Meme: something about the true crime fandom thirsting for the rogues gallery

ok can i just say something slightly controversial?? no? i don’t find true crime ppl who are into criminals funny, that shits disturbing irl im not gonna bring that into my very chill universe.

i may have never seen a 'jason cleaning guns in sink' fic but i do know he WOULD

THANK YOU

bestie im sorry to say this to you but while you can, and people do wash their guns in the sink, that is a lot of lead in a very vital part of the kitchen.

people tend to do it in the bathtub.

WHY???? like damn why do you even have guns

i dont think i read many gun sink fics exactly but i have read lots of fics where jason cleanes his guns in the living room. usualy dissembles them and cleans them with a rag i think

lmao fair enough, like i think that’s a large part of what i remember as well.

if you say you've seen/read gun sink fics I believe you. I think those of us who didn't see them are lucky or maybe didn't search for fics by tags or something idk

i mean ive never sought them out but i HAVE seen them,, like definitely i know almost for certain.

saw your tags and I'm interested in Steph/Kara now. They would be the most chaotic couple <3

literally thoooo, i have a wip where they get together in a zombie apocalypse and like UGGGHhhh i am so in love with them.

I am the Breece anon. Thanks for the recommendation; am reading now. I’ve always been a hardcore Superman fan because I love my pure himbo farm boy. My logic is, if one Bruce is a Broose, then multiple Broose are a herd of Breece. And this is a hill upon which I will perish.

fair enough,,,, like moose, meese, goose, geese, bruce, breece. i get your logic and i stand by it as well. (glad you enjoyed the comic recs!!!!)

It's a beautiful day in Gotham, and you are a group of horrible Breece

OH my god dude lmao

there only being 42 fics on ao3 for tim and bernard is honestly so sad i need more

it’s like twice that now!!! we did it lads. (tho very sad that my fic isnt number one but like number 4 :((((  )

i'm too late you already did the poll lol but may i suggest bethy (bernard + timothy)

shit dude that wouldve been so fucking funnyyyyy. think ppl have just stuck to timber tho, tim/bernard kinda died down recently and i think it’s too bad, they’re a great couple and i love them.

Wait, hear me out

Bernothy @redlightofdawn

great recommendation (lmao this ask is from like a month ago) but very sorry to announce that NARDTH is the superior shipname

Wait, we know that bernard likes milfs (Tim's step-mom) but what about dilfs? gilfs?

Wait no, I regret sending that ask

these were two seperate asks and they’re HILARIOUS. in my personal opinion tho,,, milfs, gilfs, dilfs are just about vibes and bernard is just attracted to sexy ppl who may sometimes be milfs, dilfs, or EVEN gilfs.

crime in bludhaven would drop to half if nightwing had a boob window. in this essay i will-

WHERE’S THE ESSAY ANON, WHERE’S THE FUCKING ESSAY

Wait if Barbra and Tim r at opposite ends at all times what happened to Barbra once everyone’s Tim’s ever love before started dying lol

she won a lottery ticket and spent 2 weeks on a resort in the bahamas before returning home and finding out that the joker was arrested for tax evasion and then spent a month staying at her big tiddie goth girlfriend’s house before conner came back to life and she broke her pinkie playing table hockey.

Why is the opposite end thing so funny and compelling to me. Tim comes back from his depression quest for Bruce and Babs is now a literal god

lmao when tim loses his spleen barbara reaches nirvana.

Are you still taking music recs because I have three songs that remind me of Jason that I think you'd like

send to me or lose a toe

🌸 ⭐ put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs. it’s time to spread positivity! ⭐🌸😋

thanks, i wont tho on account of i wont.

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMduBy3Sr/

⬆️

This is the whole of Blüdhaven and everyone anywhere.

Nightwings ass alone saves more people in a calendar year and does more for so society than most heroes do their whole career.Also u are one of the funniest tumblr pages out there. The vibes are unmatched and the memes and tags ✨send me✨.Thank u and goodnight @julia-flow 

fanksss also lmao.

That's going to be a little bit difficult to explain, but

There's some music that you listen to and you think, "oh my gosh, I can perfectly imagine Dick Grayson singing this song, with the same voice as the singer because that voice matches with Dick Grayson"?

oh yeah totally lmao. i have a lot of songs that i think are just entirely dick grayson yanno? kind of all of my playlists have that vibe, but i really find bleachers to fit with dick? idk.

"Lois lane/Superman" fics this, "Lois lane/Clark Kent" fics that, (/lh) let's get into the real good stuff. Some people ship Lois, Clark, and Superman as a throuple. Most popular fic tag for sure

yes totally, i think they’d be absolutely killer on ao3 and clark gets so fucking embarassed about it.

I miss your post, hope you’re doing okay!!

haha this was like 2 months ago, but i was doing fine then too! just didn’t have a lot of inspiration in terms of content.

Doot doot!

noot noot

I’m confused. What did DC do now? Like with nightwing? And another sibling? Please spoil everything for me

lmao they gave him a secret sister plotline where they had his dad cheat on his mom with tony zucco’s wife, bc dick’s life wasn’t traumatic enough yet.

sorry but it's so funny that batman is called "the dark knight" when the gotham city baseball team is called the gotham knights. it'd be like if a vigilante was running around new york called like "the scary yankee"

lmaooo no. but like yankee comes from dutch names or something so wouldnt it be HILARIOUS if gotham knights came from like german names and bruce would be running around called the dark KLAUS UND NIEK @graysonnightwing 

(not a batcest shipper) it’s so funny to me that the responses are “i’m a batcest shipper because i can differentiate fiction from reality and and it doesn’t bother me personally, but i understand why you oils think it’s weird” to “i wish all batcest shippers a very fucking die”

yeah lmaoo. i personally basically flipped my entire stance around to ‘i dont care please leave me and everybody else alone’ bc i think there’s really no point in starting a moral dillema over some fucking fandom bullshit. Please just,,, go home,,, log off, find a nice forest to have a little walk in and remember that somewhere in history, somebody probably died in the place you’re standing. and you will also die someday, and somebody will have to look at your internet usage and see you fighting multiple people anonymously while being named ‘nightwingsbuttchin200186′ like... calm down, we’re all gonna die this is not the thing to worry about.

so since like "wards" don't really exist in modern society almost all the batkids are foster kids, right? i used to work in the system and imagine: monthly visits from social workers and guardian ad litems, bruce having to get permission to take the boys anywhere out of state, calling their social worker at like 8 a.m. like "yeah dick broke his arm again... a gymnastics accident this time...." their poor social worker. bruce send her a huge bouquet and box of chocolates every month to stay on her good side

i imagine the social worker just getting into the case like ‘yeah let’s get this kid a good guardian’ and then ending up having to work with 22 y/o bruce wayne and his 50 y/o dad. and so this social worker is like ‘okay we can work with this, this is the best home i can find’ and then like it ends up landing on its feet and then the kid gets adopted and then they get a call a year later like ‘uhm so hi, this kid tried to steal my tyres can i adopt him?’ and like 3 years later. ‘okay so basically, my neighbours’ kid imprinted on me and now they’re dead, can i keep him?’ two years later it’s like ‘okay so this assassin child-’

ever since I saw that one post of yours, the meme that's something like "I know that abba's backup dancer got me" with a picture of discowing, I've been haunted. Every once in a while I'll be minding my own business then the image of abba's backup dancer dick grayson aka nightwing aka discowing will flash in my mind and I'll be frozen in place. Today at work I was in the middle of folding clothes and suddenly once again discowing entered my mind and I suddenly lost the ability to see anything except He. Thank you.

wow. the IMPACT.

Braver than any US marine man props to you🤝

this shit is about the time i wrote an article on batcest, like man,,, the fact that i didn’t get cancelled is MIRACULOUS. also like,,, uh if anybody on here did gossip on me,, send screenshots i’d love to see it.

Hello, just wanted to say your article was great. Thank you for taking the time to provide an unbaised answer. It should provide people with nuances they couldn't possibly conjure on their own.

May I ask where your username originates from?

yes you may (also thanks!!!) i thought it up when i was trying to find an original username bc i didnt want to be called like ‘timdrakes something something’ or ‘jason todd something smoething’ or ‘dick grayson something something’ yanno? so i thought batarangs, they sound so dumb and that’s my username story... now it’s my whole entire brand lmao.

yno that bit in kick ass where red mist asks kick ass if he wants a hit of his blunt, was that the inspo for stoner tim

no? it’s bc i think stoners are hilarious and drugs are great. (dont do drugs tho) 

How would u feel if someone actually wore one of those bruce or ollie pride shirts u edited

fenomenal next question.

Dick as lil huddy and Jason as James gave me radiation poisoning and now I’m screaming crying throwing up so thx for that

(Rico suave as Tim is perfect tho literally no changes needed)

i was so funny for that shit wasn’t i??? lmao i loved those weird ass fancasts

You're doing the Lord's work by providing us with all these Gotham/Metropolis citizens memes, thank you for being so relentlessly funny @nellethiel-aranel

you’re welcome!! i really enjoy making memes, but getting validation for my content and my memes is REALLY nice.

Bruce is such a slut in your memes and honestly i love that for him @rhodey-rhudert-rhodes-main 

he’s that much of a slut irl too dw.

Bruce and Alfred have an emergency pride flag for the batkids. Oliver Queen printed an emergency "I love my gay son" t-shirt and as soon as Roy told him he was dating Jason, Oliver started wearing that shirt everyday and Roy always cringes when he sees it. Oliver also has an emergency "I love my lesbian daughter" shirt just in case for Cissie.

lmao YES i had a post like this bc like all of their kids/family members are so gayy

stop bringing back batfam fancasts it is not real it is not real it is not- 😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀

oh yes it is my darling.

did discowing burn down the notredam because he hates the bees? @allulily

no he did it bc fuck the french.

im gonna beg for 1 thing and 1 thing only. please please please put physical by olivia newton john on dick's playlist

okay then beg. bc i wont. physical reminds me too much of glee and that hurts me mentally.

your playlist is sorely missing some Madonna. Specifically Into the Groove, Like a Prayer, and Vogue

i’m scared of madonna that’s why she’s not on there. she haunts me in my dreams.

suggestion: son of batman by aaron dews for dick’s playlist🤩

sorry, i listened to it and the vibe didn’t agree with me.

Hear me out, metropolis citizens sending rare pair fics of Clark Kent x Superman fics to Lois to edit

yes, absolutely hilarious. even more funny if they send like physical copies, no address attached and lois sends it back marked with red ink, SOMEHOW

Imagine all the smut Clark must of read editing the fics

clark reads smut confirmeeed

NOT LOIS READING SUPERBAT PORN AND EDITING IT A 2AM 

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

hc that alfred is a meta that boosts healing factor of the people around him. if the bats are injured as much as they seem to be they would be doing bat stuff MAYBE half the year. no one including alfred knows about this. whenever the kids move out they inexplicably dont recover from injuries as fast and feel better whenever they visit the manor they just chalk it up to homesickness. bruce just thinks he heals really fast. alfred thinks everyone doesnt take care of themselves properly @finchcollector

that’s actually such a great idea, but i think that alfred would find out and learn how to concentrate it better so he can help more people, bc he’s great and i love him.

One of your dickfast posts reminded me of that tweet that goes: 'so you've had sex how many times? Yeah technically that's not a bromance' lol that's dickwally or dickroy

literally tho. like that’s all of dick’s friendships. once it gets past a certain time dick is like ‘wow i wonder what it would be like to make out with wally, wally come make out with me’ and wally’s like ‘we’ve done this like 40 times, dick, you know what it’s like’ and dick is like ‘sorry are you complaining?’ and they just make out.

superfam and batfam associations??

-batman and superman

-dick/barabara and supergirl?

-conner and tim

-jon and damian

pls enlighten me I am confused

nope,,, uhm batman and superman, but dick and superman as well, and then conner and tim, jon and damian and steph + babs with supergirl

I came across a fic in which Wonder Woman calls Batman "Stella" (like Stellaluna, the children's book) and I can imagine the batkids hop on the trend and maybe copies of the book appear at random places (aka, everywhere Bruce frequents)

sorry can’t reciprocate that was the name of my high school chemistry teacher and it gives me nightmares to think about.

good human what are your pronouns?

wouldn’t you like to know?

I need me some gothamites preferring harley over joker memes

everyone prefers harley over joker youre just very fucked up if you dont

don't understand why people try to add like veteran policy to the batfamily

dick pulling out his veteran batfam member card so he can eat first: step aside, peasants

Do you know the song Simmer by Haley Williams? It (the first verse anyways) reminds me of Jason? It's about rage.

damn yeah i LOVE HAYLEY!!!! youre right thoo

Okay so I like listen to your stoner Tim Drake playlist 24/7 but would he listen to skegss? Also I keep adding songs mentally it’s killing me 😩✋🏼 Anyways,, I literally love and worship your playlist 😃🤞🏼 And uh yeah have a good day ✨

stoner tim drake playlist is lyfeeee. also dont know who skeggs is? i’m stupid? have a good day!!

All the Robins (and Batgirl) decide to trade costumes for one night just to fuck with Batman and all the villains in Gotham. @subspacecadet 

batman knows it’s them youknow but like,,, what does he call them? he’s like ‘red hood?’ and 3 people answer and he’s not about to compromise some identities so he’s just Pissed.

I aspire to treat cops the way my dad treats them. This man is a 45 year old Asian immigrant to the US and the treats them like his pets. He talks about them like unruly children. Sometimes he pays off local cops to shut up and stop acting racist. And usually it works. I don’t know why but I can see Oliver Queen doing this

vibes... and also yes? oliver queen handing a local cop a donut to shut the fuck up lmao. but yanno i commit enough crimes to not really want to ever see a cop ever, so they kinda scare the everloving fuck out of me.

seeing as tim hasn't aged in years, that means he was 17 at peak emo tumblr era. im back on my emo tim bullshit and im not letting it go

emo tim had a wattpad account send tweet

People seem to think that batman is so dark and serious when the rainbow batsuit is right there. He wore it with no shame.

dude the 60s were a DIFFERENT TIME

dick grew up in a circus, jason grew up on the streets, and tim was probably raised by the internet

all of them cuss every other word and you cannot tell me otherwise

bitch i KNOW but dc has to change to an 18+ rating if they want to sell comix with swear words in them so we gotta deal with imagining the swear words in ourselves

thoughts on teen titans and young justice

haven’t seen teen titans on account of havent seen it and young justice was LITERALLY my favourite thing ever, tho i do gotta admit it’s not at all similar to the young justice comics unfortunately. i really wouldve liked to see timmy bart kon cassie and cissie animated on tv!!

ew ew ew how to delete batcest shippers I genuinely digust them

log off tumblr?

Okay as poc who was called racist for calling an Italian pastabrain: in the batfam are Italians bit Damian just yells various insults about the others being Italian. Just him yelling “What are you doing you moronic spaghettihead!” At steph etc

huh? i meant real italians. homeboy is telling steph he hopes she chokes on her fucking garlic.

I think it's dumb as hell to pull the batman is the best fighter in the batfam argument because like it's just irresponsible of Bruce to let his kids fight when they couldn't possibly be on his league or something

fair enough, but also like who cares they could all kill you just sit down and take a beating.

lady shiva, thalia al ghul and Selina Kyle are all milfs @notanothertimburtonenthusiastugh 

unfortunately, i have to admit,,, you’re right

why tf didn't someone give joker a death sentence already? like he's a mass murderer...give him the electric chair treatment wtf

idk i think plenty of people would have tried to murder him already (boring answer is: he is a popular character so they can’t kill him off bc he brings in lots of money)

There’s no such thing as “ copaganda”.

all american media is propaganda. happy to clear this up for you

is it bad that I find lady shiva owa owa

no. find her as owa owa as you want.

aight I'm guessing the order of your favs in batfam:

1. tim

2. Steph

3. dick

4. Duke

5. the rest

you’re wrong but it’s cute that you tried, i generally don’t have favourites, but i have a special place in my heart for steph, tim, dick and cass. bc they were like my introduction to batfam. but damian, jason, duke, bruce, babs and alfred are NOT FORGOTTEN OR UNLOVED

oh my god i was literally just readily willing to believe that italians werent white ty for clarifying it was a joke im so dumb sdkvjskdfs

i mean some italians aren’t white? italian is a nationality as well as an ethnicity, so like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

since I saw so many people doing headcanons about the nationalities of batboys, I see Dick as an Italian.

dont know if youre serious or not, but sure.

super random but

jason 🤝 damian

old english

lmao fair enough.

tim absolutely has 1 gay uncle and his parents shit talk said uncle all the time so after bruce adopts him he specifically reaches out to this uncle to be like "heyyyy just so you know you majorly influenced my life yes i know i havent seen you since i was 5 and at the family reunion yes i know you dont remember my name idc thank you im gay too" and then they never talk again.

yuppp lmao that’s definitely something that could happen. i can also consider tim having no family members, like none. until he does like a dna test and he realises he has like an aunt living barely 2 miles away from him who’s like some illegitimate child of his grandpa.

I dare you one of them sends clark superman/clark fic and clark corrects the shit out of it and then goes like ps his dick is not that big, just telling as someone who has seen it. internet either explodes or goes who tf did he not fuck at this point.

i think everybody would call clark a buzzkill and try to cancel him over that.

so you're telling me Tim Drake wouldn't buy Starbucks?

no. dunkin donuts all the way

One of my favorite things is imagining people finding out jason came back from the dead and being like "oh no does he have magic powers now?!?!?" and he just pulls out a gun and tries to shoot joker

now he doesn’t even have the gun :) lmao

my favorite batfamily fanfictions are the ones where they use their shitty codenames, unironically, in any context

bruce gets codename ‘ugh’ everytime. he hates it.

crazy that tim being a 17 y/o ceo and a stoner who does brand deals are all actual canon things written in detective comics comics and not made up for shits and giggles by you, tumblr user batarangsoundsdumb @rowdeyclown

SO CRAZY HUH?

batman au where everything is the same but his utility belt is bright pink

absolutely, but i raise you, his boots light up like sketchers when he kicks people.

unbeknownst to the superhero fandom writers in the dcuniverse, clark and BRUCE are one of the most prolific fanfic writers in the superhero rpf tag on ao3. clark writes the best lois x superman angst, full of unhappy endings and scenes that are a so detailed you'd think you were in the middle of a superhero beatdown. bruce made an ao3 account to fuel "the do the butts match" thing, and makes batman/bruce fics from time to time. he wrote a superbat fic as a joke but ended up making it REAL porny. @concrastinator

dude they’re WAY too busy for that. Oliver Queen and Hal Jordan on the other hand are the most prolific fanfic writers in the superhero rpf tag writing what is Mostly porn.

When the dining table topic gets to politics, Steph says "eat the rich" as the solution

bruce just silently takes away her fork and knife while she’s talking.

[detectivejay-chuckles-halstead]

Hope // Jay Halstead x Reader

Description: Jay and Reader get kidnapped for all the wrong reasons. 

Requested: Yes

Warnings: Rape/Sexual Assault

Words: 3363

Pairings: Jay Halstead x Reader

“Can you tell me what he looked like?” you asked the scared woman who was laying in the hospital bed, knees pulled to her chest as she hugged them close. The bruises were already starting to form on her face and arms, knowing there were more that were scattered and hidden under the gown. You’d kicked everybody else out, leaving just you and her to talk about what happened to her. It was the least you could do to make her feel more comfortable, a little more safe after everything she’d been through. 

You hated these cases with a burning fire. Nobody should have to go through what this girl went through, should have to suffer with knowing it happened for the rest of their life. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right to have that part of you violated in such a violent way, to be forced to give a piece of yourself over. 

“He was tall,” she told you meekly. “A little taller than your partner that was in here earlier. A little younger though.” You could see the tears brimming in her eyes, voice shaking as she held onto herself a little tighter. “White. Blonde hair. But...his eyes are cold. Every time I close my eyes I can see that stare.”

“We’re gonna find him and we’re going to put him away for a long time,” you assured her, gently resting your hand on her forearm. A part of you was surprised she didn’t pull away, instead looking at you.

“It was his eyes, Detective,” she told you again, voice almost a whisper. “Like he has no soul. My momma always told me you can tell who a man is through his eyes. He isn’t a man though. He’s a monster.” 

“Focus on getting you better, Tanya. We’ll focus on getting him,” you told her before standing up, leaving her to her own thoughts. 

Jay was waiting for you in the hallway, arm draping across your shoulders to pull you closer. You could feel him press a kiss to your temple as you sighed, hating these cases. 

“She’s just a kid,” you finally said softly once the two of you were safely in his truck, away from prying ears. “She’s fifteen, Jay. And this is something that she’s going to carry with her for the rest of her life.” 

“That’s why we’re going to find him. So that way she knows he won’t hurt anybody else. And she’ll be able to live her life with that small assurance,” he reminded you, squeezing your hand. “Starbuck?” You just nodded, staring out the window. You hated these cases. 

-----

“We’ve got a hit from the pod footage,” Adam announced two days later, your head snapping up from the computer screen. 

You didn’t register your own movements until you stood behind him, staring at the man on the screen. Tanya wasn’t wrong. He looked to be slightly taller than Jay, mid-to-late twenties, dirty blonde hair. You couldn’t see his eyes, though. There was something that caught you by surprise. A second offender walking next to him, seeming to talk to him. The footage was from ten minutes before Tanya was attacked, piecing it all together. 

“And better yet, we have an ID on him,” Adam added, scooting back. You had to side-step out of his way as he grabbed the photograph off his desk, plastering it on the whiteboard. “Zachary Wells, twenty-eight, one prior for assault and battery, did two years. And his buddy. Connor Woodcock, thirty-one. No prior convictions, but he has a long sheet of allegations of sexual misconduct since he was a teenager. The two went to high school together.” 

Now that you looked at the pictures, you understood what Tanya was saying about Zachary’s eyes. The picture they had was his mug-shot from when he was arrested. There wasn’t something right about to look in his eyes. 

“Do we have a LOA for either of them?” Jay asked, perched on the corner of his desk as he twirled the pen in his hand, staring at the pictures. 

“52nd and South Ellis.” Adam had barely gotten the words out by the time you had your jacket in your hands, walking down to the car. With you back turned, you didn’t see the look that Adam and Jay shared, one of worry and concern. Yet, Jay still followed you downstairs without a word. 

-----

“Look who’s finally waking up,” you heard someone coo next to you, fingers tracing along your collarbone. 

The ringing in your ears was finally dying down, vision coming into focus. You could feel the digging pain of zip-ties around your wrists behind your back as you struggled against their hold before realizing it was pointless. You couldn’t figure out what was happening until you focused on the touch against your skin. It wasn’t Jay, that much you were certain of. It felt wrong, fingers more calloused than your boyfriend’s. He smelled of liquor and sweat, and when you finally looked at him, you truly understood what Tanya was telling you. There was nothing behind his eyes, no soul it seemed. 

“Leave her alone,” Jay groaned, your head whipping over to look at him. 

Blood dripped down from a gash at his hair-line, shoulders slumped as he looked over at you. When your eyes met, you knew it was bad. You had no idea how long you’d been there, and weren't sure if you were at a secondary location or the same house you’d rolled up to to question Connor and Zachary. 

“How about you keep your mouth shut?” Zachary snapped, pushing himself up to walk over to Jay. 

A fist met a face, hearing the distinct crack and a groan of pain. Just hearing the contact made you wince, knowing it had to have hurt. Zachary took one more look at you before going up the stairs. You could vaguely make out the sounds of him talking to someone, but couldn’t make out the words.

“Jay? Jay are you okay?” you asked, concerned by his lack of movement and the blood gushing from his now-most-likely-broken nose. 

“Ugh, yeah. Yeah. How are you?” he countered. Always the gentleman, always wanting to make sure you were okay. 

“I’d be better if I wasn’t zip tied.” You heard him groan again, this time with a bit of a chuckle behind it. “How long was I out?”

“I came to about twenty minutes before you did. I don’t think they moved us, so it shouldn’t be too long before the team realizes we’re gone.” You couldn’t help but nod, hope creeping back in just a tiny bit. “Do you think…?” He didn’t have to finish his sentence for you to understand what he was asking. 

“No. No, nothing,” you assured. This time, Jay was the one to nod. “How did this even happen?” 

“No idea. Just...let’s hope the team realizes we’re gone sooner than later.” 

You didn’t know what else to say, letting your eyes drift shut. Your head was pounding, but that was the only other ache despite your wrists. The only way you could think that it all happened was that they managed to get the drop on you guys when you knocked on the door. It was the last thing you remembered, knocking on the door. 

“Y/N!” Jay whispered in a harsh voice, bringing you back to the world of the living. Your eyes fluttered open, looking around the dimly lit basement. Your eyes met his, worry and concern more evident than before. Blood was caked on his face, mostly dried by that point. 

“It’s going to be okay, Jay,” you assured him, hearing heavy boots coming down the stairs, though you didn’t believe it yourself.

Fear rose as bile in the back of your throat, swallowing it down as Zachary and Connor came into view. You didn’t say anything, didn’t think you could as you tried to anticipate what was about to happen. There had to be a way you could disconnect from it before it happened, had to be a way to make sure it didn’t affect you like it seemed to with Tanya and probably the countless other girls they’d assaulted. 

“Just look at me,” Jay instructed as he caught your eye. A part of you could only hope that they at least took you upstairs, that Jay wouldn’t have to watch this. 

“She’s a lot prettier up close, that’s for sure,” Connor told his friend, kneeling in front of you, roughly grabbing your chin with one hand, turning your head to look at him. “We’re gonna have our fun with you. A lot of fun.”

“Get your fucking hands off her!” Jay snapped. Connor didn’t loosen his grip, if anything he held you tighter in a bruising grip. 

“What do you think, Zach? Think we should make him watch? Maybe that’ll put him in his place, make him realize who the boss actually is,” Connor continued, voice steady as you stared into his equally empty eyes.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Connor.” Your heart dropped, knowing they weren’t going to take you upstairs. Zach walked over to Jay, roughly grabbing him by his hair, keeping him facing you. 

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Jay told you with as much of a nod as he could considering Zach was giving him little room to move. “I’m right here. It’s gonna be okay.” 

“Gagged or ungagged, that’s the question. I mean, nobody’s gonna hear you besides us,” Connor mused, mostly to himself. “It’s always a shame we have to gag them. I mean it’s fun to hear them beg and scream, though that just fuels the desire...the-the need.” 

“You’re a fucking sicko,” you spat at him, though it didn’t phase him. 

“Oh now, sweetheart,” he continued calmly, “that’s no way to talk to me.” 

You could feel his hot breath on your face before his lips were against yours, rough and wet. You wanted to gag at the contact, almost did. Yet you didn’t, letting him do whatever he wanted. Fighting it...fighting him as much as you wanted...You couldn’t. Not with Zach standing right over Jay. The thought crossed your mind, yet you knew that if you tried to fight then they might kill Jay. Sacrificing everything was better than sacrificing him. 

The cool blade of a knife was against your skin, cutting your shirt and bra along the middle as Connor pulled his mouth away from yours. Jay was struggling against his binds, against Zach’s hold, yet he was getting nowhere. 

“It’s okay, Jay,” you assured him, repeating his own words. “I’m gonna be okay.” 

“This is going to be even more interesting,” Connor said, hands sliding up your exposed stomach and chest. “Do you see what I see, Zach?”

“What do you see, Connor?” his friend answered, grip tightening in Jay’s hair. 

“These two...they love each other.” He leaned close to your ear, whispering his next words. “Once I’m done with you, sweetheart,” he said softly, you being the only one able to hear him. “He’s never going to want to touch you again. He’s going to leave you far behind. Because I’m going to have my way with you. And he’s going to know that I was the one that made you feel good. Not him.” 

“If you’re gonna do it, then do it,” you replied, looking him in the eye with as much bravery you could muster. “Because it doesn’t matter what you do to me. You’ll never break me. Because you’re a coward! Weak and pathetic.” 

You barely processed the sting of the slap across your face before he pushed you down on your back. The uncomfortable pressure on your shoulders from your hands still being zip-tied behind you caused you to cry out in pain, knowing your joints weren’t supposed to move that way. This time, you listened to what Jay had told you, keeping your eyes on his. 

Connors hands were on your skin, hearing the distinct sound of a belt unbuckling. The rustle of jeans being pushed down. The bile rose again, willing it down. Willing it away. If only you could will your emotions off. But you couldn’t. As much as you wanted to detach from this situation, to just not be there, you were. And you were going to have to live with it for the rest of your life. Like Tanya. Like every other man and woman who had been forced into this situation. 

And for the first time, you understood why they acted the way they did. You understood why Tanya sat on that hospital bed with her knees to her chest. Why she didn’t want Jay in the room. Because Connor and Zach stole something from her that day. They stole her peace of mind, the idea that she could ever be safe again. 

His lips were on your neck now, seeming to savor his time. He figured he had all the time in the world, treating you like his own play-thing. His actions were calculated, none of them rushed as you felt his erection rub along your still clothed leg. The one thing you would never be able to understand was how people got off on this? What was so satisfying about forcing somebody into sex? 

Tears welled in your eyes, rolling down your cheek. Jay sat stiff as a statue, the only indication he was alive was his gaze meeting yours and the sharp rise and fall of his chest with each breath. 

“It’s okay,” you told him again, voice shaking as you did so, bottom lip quivering. Quickly, you took it between your teeth, trying to calm yourself down. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Connor told you with a soft moan as his hands found the buckle of your pants, making quick work. 

You’d lost that hope you’d been holding onto as he pushed the fabric of your jeans down your legs. The team may find you, but it would be too late. Everything would be different. Until you heard the sound of someone forcefully breaching the front door. As soon as you heard it, you knew it was going to be okay. 

“Help!” you screamed before Connor’s hands were around your throat. You didn’t want them wasting time searching the rest of the house before going to the basement. You didn’t want them wasting any time in getting him off you. Your vision swam again, this time the darkness began creeping in on the edges of your vision before it all went dark. 

-----

“How you feelin’?” Hank asked you when you opened your eyes again.

No longer were you in the cold, musty basement of that house, waking to find yourself in a hospital bed. Your body ached, memories flooding back. Yet, the first thing you asked wasn’t about you.

“Where’s Jay?” you countered, sitting up slightly and wincing at the pain in your shoulders.

“He’s here. A couple rooms over with a broken nose. He’s gonna be okay. Now, back to my original question. How you feelin’?”

“Like I got hit by a truck, Voight. My shoulders more than anything. Did he…?” Voight quickly shook his head no. You couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. 

“We got there just in time,” he assured you. “They both resisted so they might have found themselves with a couple bullet wounds of their own. Let’s just say, Kim’s a better shot than we might have previously thought. Connor isn’t going to have enough use to hurt anybody else.” Of course it would be Kim to shoot a rapist in the dick. 

“Good. When can I go home?”

“The doc said you should be good to go tonight. I figured you’d want to leave with Jay when they finished bandaging him up.” You nodded in agreement, hoping it wouldn’t be too long. All you wanted was to take a shower. “I’m giving the two of you two weeks off to heal. And I don’t just mean physically, Y/N. You’ve been through a lot today. Talk to someone about it.”

“I will. Has anybody told Tanya?” A part of you hoped they hadn’t, wanting to be the one to tell her. Yet, you wouldn’t be upset if somebody else did. 

“Yeah. Kim let her know after the medics brought you and Jay in. Get some rest. Call if you need anything.” You nodded again as he left the room, leaving you to your own thoughts. 

-----

It was a little over three hours later that you and Jay were walking into your apartment. Will had brought you some clothes from your house, knowing the clothes you’d worn to work were ruined. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you stepped into the safety of your own home. 

“I’m gonna go take a shower,” you told Jay softly, brushing your fingers against his arm before walking away. 

The feeling of the hot water on your skin was soothing, yet you wanted to scrub every trace of Connor off you. You wanted to get rid of the feeling of him touching you, of his lips on your skin, of his breath on your face. You wanted to get rid of all the memories of that basement. You didn’t want to have to remember any of it. Yet, it was one of those days that were going to be plastered in your mind for the rest of your life. 

When you left the shower, your skin was raw and red and stinging. Yet, the stinging feeling overpowered the feeling of his touch. You got dressed in sweatpants and one of Jay’s t-shirts before joining Jay in bed, letting your head rest on his chest as his arms wrapped tightly around you. As much as you didn’t want to, tears came to your eyes as you cried, letting the pent up emotions flow out of you. 

“You’re okay,” Jay whispered softly into your ear as he held you tight. “You’re home. You’re safe.” He kept repeating those three phrases over and over until you started to believe him. Your sobs died down into sniffles until you no longer had the energy or the will to cry. 

“When he whispered in my ear,” you told Jay, voice cracking still despite your lack of tears. “He told me you’d never want to touch me again because you would have known he was able to make me feel good.” 

“I’m with you, no matter what, Y/N,” he corrected. “I know he didn’t get that far, but even if he had, I’m with you. Through thick and thin. Nothing that ever happens to you will ever change that, I promise.” 

“How can you promise, Jay?” Genuine confusion evident in your voice.

“Because I love you too much to blame you or judge you when it comes to things you have no control over. Because I’ve known since the day we met that you were going to be a big part of my life, no matter what. Because I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Nothing can change any of it. Kidnappings, shootings, assaults. You’re still the girl I fell in love with.” You looked up at him, seeing a soft smile on his face. You tried not to focus on the bruising around his eyes from the broken nose, or the busted lip. 

“I wished they would have taken me upstairs...when we heard them coming down. So that way you wouldn’t have had to watch any of it,” you admitted. 

“I’m glad they didn’t.” Your brows furrowed, letting him talk. “I didn’t want you to have to go through it alone. I wanted you to know that I was there for you.” You couldn’t help but let out a shaking breath, gently cupping his cheek as you kissed him softly. 

It felt right. Like the two of you fit together perfectly. Nothing like Connor and his forceful, rushed actions. No. This kiss -- you knew -- was full of love and understanding. And you knew for sure that nothing that happened to either of you was ever going to change that.  

@babi-correia​

[hb-writes]

The Audit

Summary: It’s 1924 in the Little Lady Blinder universe. Clara and Finn make their annual visit to their mother’s grave.

Inspired-ish by this request: Also do the family celebrate her mums birthday? I think it would be a nice occasion where they celebrate her birthday and it’s nice for the twins especially whilst the boys are away polly makes a thing of it. ( I know nothing like this happens on the show, but I think they should) xxx

AN: So while I don’t think the family would celebrate her birthday, and actually find it painful to talk about her most times, I could see Finn and Clara sharing a little tradition like I’ve written about below. It’s not quite what you’ve asked for, but I hope you still like it!

Featuring: Finn Shelby, Clara Shelby (Shelby!Sister), Shelby!Mother

-----

Clara’s mind was settled on approximately seven things aside from the path she walked along, paying more mind to the questions in her head than the cobblestones at her feet. Truth was Clara had little need to pay attention to where she was going. She was far more familiar with the cemetery and it’s surrounding landscape than she was comfortable with, having buried far too many in her relatively short life. 

“You’re late.” 

Finn flicked his cigarette away, startling his sister as she glanced up from the pavement. He pushed off the pillar he’d been leaning up against, the entrance a sad excuse for a welcome, composed of no more than two crumbling stone columns and a rusted wrought iron gate.

Clara pulled her coat tighter, frowning as she stepped closer to her brother. “Tommy came back early, said he wanted me to go through some things with him before the… I suppose it doesn’t…” Clara took a breath and met Finn’s eye. “I’m sorry.” 

Finn shook his head, closing the remaining distance to pull her into a hug, his chin easily fitting over the top of her head. They hadn’t seen each other for a stretch of time, both of them overly occupied by the vastly different bits of life that customarily kept them apart, the Blinder duties and generally reckless adventures for Finn, and the Shelby Company Ltd. duties, and school, and family business for Clara. It was the recklessness that usually brought them together, the pair accustomed to passing at least a few evenings a week up to nothing particularly good. But with half the family locked away, they’d all had to step up. While Finn found getting up to nonsense revitalizing, Clara had been too busy for it, and far too tired aside. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he offered, settling his arm around her shoulder as they walked the familiar route from the entrance to their mother’s grave. “At least it’s not raining again this year.” 

Clara allowed herself a light snort, conceded a small smile as she leaned into her brother because there’d been more rainy cemetery visits over the years than not. Clara knew her brother didn’t care for the annual trip quite as much as he used to, had an inkling that he found it a bit asinine now compared to when they were kids, just a couple of orphans grasping onto a handful of wispy memories of a woman they knew very little about. That described them even still. 

If Clara was being honest, she found it all a bit silly too, but the ‘do we or do we not?’ of the occasion was never a discussion between them. The only discourse they ever had on the subject, always initiated by Finn about a week ahead out of custom, was in establishing a time they’d both be available on her birthday. 

It had been nearly ten years now that the twins had been coming to their mother’s grave and although they’d never told the others, never asked for a sibling’s accompaniment or gave a hint as to what they were both doing sneaking off on their mother’s birthday, Clara had a feeling they all somehow knew. 

It was why when not an hour before, as she grew antsy, repeatedly shaking out her wrist to check the time while she sat perched on the edge of Tommy’s desk, something shifted in him. Tommy simply asked his questions about the books and let her go, wordlessly accepting her answer of ‘out with Finn. He’ll bring me home’ when he asked where she was heading off to. 

Visiting their mother’s grave usually felt a bit like ringing in a new year but with less of the flair and celebration. Maybe an annual audit was a more apt description, seeing as Clara and Finn kept a ledger, a nondescript notebook stashed in the nightstand of Clara’s bedroom at the Watery Lane house, accessible to them both, though Clara would argue that Finn had more access to the archive now than she did, being as he stayed over on the lane much more often. 

Still, neither of them was likely to touch the book between visits to the cemetery, more likely was it that the ledger passed their minds only in the week or so before their mother’s birthday, and even then, neither of them was apt to do more than think on what they’d be marking down, mentally preparing themselves for the occasion, ensuring things went smoothly. 

The book came with rules, a certain etiquette that went unspoken between the two of them from conception to practice. The implicit secrecy of the whole thing, and the way they constricted their documentation to a particular day and place had been precedents set from the start. They’d only write while at the cemetery, while in their mother’s supposed presence, and there were limits on what was documented, the format decided nearly a decade prior, each of the entries nearly identical in configuration though the content varied. 

Finn and Clara recorded what happened in the preceding year, took an audit between the two of them of anything new they learned about the woman, and made a few promises to themselves and each other, intentions expressed just between the two of them. The words held no true pressure for realization, just an assurance of support from the other in the case they chose to move forward. 

This year felt different to them both as they’d prepared though, a bit forlorn and detached and impossible, what with Arthur and John and Michael and Polly locked away, and Ada in America, and Esme and Linda barely speaking with the lot of them, allowing the twins a bit of connection for little more than the sake of the babies, and on the order of their husbands. 

Clara had, on a fair few occasions, pondered what their mother would think of their situation, of Arthur and John locked away, of Clara feeling a bit that way herself while her twin brother was left to flounder, feeling lost and redundant as Tommy did what he did, all of his moves in the name of the family he’d allowed to take the punishment for his sins, and all while Ada played at being a neutral party from a continent away.

They went through the motions without discussions, Finn helping Clara to settle the blanket she always brought and taking a sip from the thermos of nearly cold tea while she found the pen and the appropriate page. 

“Shall we review?” Clara asked, glancing at the page as she marked the year at the top in bold loopy script, 1924. 

Finn took his time with another sip, prolonging the silence with an exhale and with the pen held still against the page Clara trembled, taking no care to pretend that it was only from the cold. 

“She’d be ashamed,” Finn finally said and though Clara nodded, she wasn’t entirely sure of what her brother meant. There was far too much she could be ashamed of. 

Would she be ashamed that her sons and sister-in-law and nephew were criminals of the worst sort? Murderers?

Would she be ashamed that her once sweet, doting Thomas had ordered it all and let the others take the blame? 

Would she be ashamed of the twins? Of their lack of action in the face of the others’ plight?

Despite wanting to fight Finn, despite wanting to say that they didn’t know their mother well enough to say how she would feel, or that they didn’t know Tommy’s plans well enough to decide either way, Clara knew Finn was a bit right, so she swallowed her retort. No mother would wish this for her children, or at least, Clara liked to think that their mother would never wish for this.

And anyway, Clara often questioned those very things herself, pondered if she had put up enough of a fight to Tommy, analyzed at length whether she and Finn and Ada had been too forgiving of it all, but then she thought what choice did they have? Tommy was all they had now, and even if Polly hadn’t been locked away in Winson Green or Ada hadn’t gone off to Boston, Clara didn’t know if she was capable of not forgiving her brother. 

She hoped a certain part of her mother would be proud of her, proud of the advanced education she’d received, proud of Clara’s love of stories, and content with the kindness and loyalty she showed to her family, despite it all. 

Clara took a sip of the tea, grimacing as the cool liquid hit her tongue. 

“Did you learn anything new?” she asked.

Clara hadn’t. The information about their mother, the little anecdotes, usually came so organically, in moments when one of the twins reminded a sibling of some long forgotten trait of hers or when someone was feeling just the right bit of nostalgic, but it had been a busy year, filled with the death and misery and arrests, and very little else. 

Finn’s answer came with the slight shake of his head and Clara felt the same difficult swallow as her brother, her eyes growing wet though she’d told herself she wouldn’t allow it. She’d be strong for Finn today, and for Tommy and Ada and John and Arthur, too.  

Clara took care as she set the thermos down, a small whimper breaking when Finn took her hand. “She’d be proud of you though.”

Clara coughed and cleared her throat. 

“Proud of us,” she said, meeting his gaze.

Something in Finn’s face shifted though he kept his hold on both her hand and her eyes. Clara knew Finn didn’t truly believe it. The sentiment barely registered with him, and she knew that her brother thought that if he had just run a bit quicker, or shouted a bit louder, he could have saved Arthur and John from the current reality. She knew it because despite everything, she similarly held onto the imprisonments, John’s and Arthur’s and Michael’s, like they were her own, like she’d been the one to put them in the cell even if she’d been innocent aside from serving as a bit of fuel to the fire.

Clara put a dash beside the spot she’d designated for the new information and jotted out a few lines below. 

“I think this covers the updates.” Clara turned the book towards Finn. “Is there anything...?”

 Finn shook his head as he glanced at the information she’d inputted, the neutral bullet points that described the past 365 days honest enough though they were far from agreeable. 

“Goals?” Clara asked.

Finn scoffed as she said it and fished out his pack of cigarettes. “You mind?” 

Clara shook her head, watching as he lit the cigarette and took a long draw from it, scoffing again as he looked at her. 

“You know what I wish for?” Finn said, using his cigarette to point at her the same way Tommy often did. “What I long for?” 

Clara shook her head. 

“Nineteen fucking fourteen,” he said.

Clara felt a shiver run up her spine at the thought. 1914. Things had been simpler then, lighter, but Clara only remembered 1914, and the tenderly memorialized years that care before it, like mere glimpses of a distant life. She remembered bedtime stories and the one-off moments that had frightened or surprised or somehow otherwise wormed inside her psyche but she’d not give up the decade between just to go back. 

“I’ll just take having everyone home,” Clara answered. 

“That all?” Finn asked, shaking his head at her. “Can’t believe it would be. I imagine you’re wanting highest marks and employee of the month and a new horse an--”

“That’s what’s most important,” Clara answered, nodding a few times to settle it in her mind. “Fuck the marks and Tommy’s accounting ledgers. I’d just like them all home.” 

Finn smiled. “And I’d like for them to take us seriously for once,” he said. “It’s only Esme who ever really listens.”

“Yeah, cause she’s not an idiot,” Clara said. “And cause she’s nearly the youngest in her own family. She knows what a shit hand it is.” 

“Ah, well, I wouldn’t know much about that,” Finn said. “It’s you who’s the baby.”

Clara shook her head, a smile on her face despite the words she offered. “Fuck off, Finn.” 

Finn smirked at his sister. “Come now, Clara. We’re sitting on mum’s grave, on her birthday of all days, and you’ve gone and cursed twice in less than a minute. What’ll she think of us?”

“It’s been quite a fucking year, Finn. I think she’ll understand.” 

“Yeah,” he echoed. “Quite a fucking year.” 

Finn watched, quiet as his sister etched two words into the bottom of the page, the twins’ wishes for the next year summed up with two simple words, home and respect. 

-----

Read more Little Lady Blinder here.

-----

🏷:

@beautycinders​ @buckybluebarnes @cecii22me​ @lovemissyhoneybee​ @marquelapage​ @midnight-dreams-23​ @mo-onstarrs​ @ohhersheybars​ @pollyrepents​ @unicorndetective22

[goldenretriever-nicknelson]

Trailer breakdown kit Kat style:

So I’ve been freaking out about it since 3am and my brain has not stopped so here’s my thoughts on the nwh trailer

Spideychelle supremacy 🥺🥺 it’s the first and only time he smiles in the whole trailer too

I ship them so hard

PUBLIC ENEMY NO

I feel like I’m gonna be saying “shut up Jamenson” a lot in this film

MY BABY IS IN HADNCUFFS 😭😭😭 (not in the way I pictured 🤚🏼)

Is that Matt Murdock? Is it just some weird lawyer? Is it an avenger in disguise? IS IT JIMMY WOO? I NEED ANSWERS

Spideychelle FaceTiming 🥺🥺 my heart

DEVIL IN DISGUISE the irony smh

Sir you need to calm down with that sign

HAND HOLDING

BLONDE FLASH. I repeat BLONDE FLASH. Is he okay?

I have a feeling flash is actually going to be nice to Peter in this film 🥺

Um they’re being surrounded by helicopters. LEAVE MY BABIES ALONE

Give Peter Parker a hug 2021

May and Peter having a movie night and then he gets arrested. That’s what I think is happening here

BLACK AND GOLD SUIT 😍😍😍 damn he looks good

When did doctor strange become cool?!

I think he bends the rules because everyone has a weak spot for baby peter needing help

Okay so this SPELL let’s discuss a few things: it clearly opens up the multiverse which coincides with wandavision and loki (possible post credits scene opportunity 👀). Peter interrupts this dangerous spell which is presumably why it fails. THAT MOMENT is when Wanda hears her kids I’m sure of it. Wandavision and this movie are linked already (heart on the calendar).

Also everyone forgetting? 🥺 does this mean MJ and peter won’t be together or will it just be different? They’re gonna still like each other just as Ned will still be his best friend. I have a feeling he’ll tell them the truth and they have to work together to get things back to normal (remember those pictures a while back?) or they have flashbacks since the spell didn’t work properly

“What just happened?” - Peter’s new catchphrase and a very good question

This film is going to make me dizzy like doctor strange did isn’t it with all those spinning buildings 😂

Oh hello Electro 👀 i see you

Why are they on a train in the desert or somewhere? This reminds me too much of mysterio’s tricks 👀👀

My mum thought he was giving up Spidey when she saw this and I hope he doesn’t

Oooh out of body thingy 👀 I wonder why? And is Peter holding something mystical?

I think strange is mentoring him in magic

Also wouldn’t strange forget he was Spidey too?

IRON SPIDER SUIT MY BELOVED HOW IVE MISSED YOU

Omg happy 🥺🥺🥺 please don’t say he’s the one who dies 😭 I mean it would make sense because Tony’s gone and if this is Peter’s last movie then where’s happy going to go?

Sandman I see you too

GREEN GOBLIN

I sense the sinister six 🧐

“Be careful what you wish for” - I’m reminded of Big and 13 going on 30

DOC OCK HERE HE COMES

I loved him in the first movies. He’s such a good villain

Still hoping we get a miles 🤞🏼

I definitely think Disney and Sony are going to try and do a live action spider verse with all 3 spider men and miles 👀 they’d kind of be fools not too tbh. The opportunity is right there

EPIC FIGHT SCENE LOADING

that suit is so flawless omg. It’s even quicker than Tony’s

Idk if this is his last movie but just please for the love of god give him a happy ending Marvel. Thank you

But I won’t say no to college Peter and/or miles 👀

[lovelivingmydreams]

A story by heroes and villains

Virgil Anker: better together

Virgil learns to accept help from others.

“Ugh! I am done!” Virgil glanced up from his assignment to see Roman let himself fall back into his chair with relief. Their first study session had gone rather well. They should probably reserve one of the discussion booths next time. The poor librarian had needed to remind them to be quiet multiple times. They’d just had too much fun. But Virgil could understand Roman’s exhaustion. It was time they wrapped things up. “Give me a sec, I have to finish this thing for English,” he muttered absentmindedly as he focused once more.

“Want me to read it trough for you?”

Virgil looked up in surprise. “You don’t…” he started. He didn’t even know why he was feeling like he’d done something wrong right now. Picani might be able to help him figure it out during their session after Virgil got back from his trip to the zoo with uncle Thomas tomorrow.

“We’re here to help each other Virgil. If I didn’t want to help you I wouldn’t offer. I thrive on being of help to my friends. It’s no trouble.” Right. Roman was like that. For everyone, not just him. It was okay to let him help. Virgil found himself smiling a little sheepishly and nodded. “Alright. You can read it when I’m done,” he allowed quickly turning back to his work.

When he finished his essay he looked up to find Roman in the zone. Which was excellent. It made it easier to sneak up on him. Apparently those with ADHD were extra susceptible to his cloak. Did he have proof for that? Well it was more of a hypothesis, but he had no means to test it. It made sense though.

And Roman had yet to prove him wrong.

Virgil cloaked himself, moved to stand right next to Roman and looked over his shoulder. It looked like he was designing a fashion line. Trans girl dresses, Pansexual messenger bags… as well as formal clothing inspired by broadway and Disney characters it seemed. He dropped his cloak.

“Seems I’m not the only one who can draw up some clothes.” Virgil had to stifle his laughter when that observation nearly made Roman jump 4 feet in the air.

“Will you stop that!?” he hissed.

“Not a chance,” Virgil chuckled as he picked up Roman’s sketches.

“This looks good though… You ever thought of becoming a fashion designer?” he suggested casually, allowing himself to imagine starting a brand with Roman someday.

“You are a genius!” Roman exclaimed, making Virgil’s heart jump.

He played it cool though. He’d gotten good at that over the last two years. Pretending that Roman’s smile didn’t turn his insides upside down. “It’s the least I can do. I sent in the designs like you said… I’m kind of excited.” He was. He hoped to catch a glimpse when he went out tonight.

“I’m sure next time you see DreamPrince on the news he’ll be wearing your design.” It was nice, having someone believe in him like that. Other than his dads that is.

“We’ll see,” he smiled as he handed Roman his laptop.

“Well,” Roman announced after a while. “I think you can hand this in with confidence Virge.”

Virgil felt himself relax at that. Roman wouldn’t say that if he didn’t mean it.

“So… I recall something about pizza? I’m starving!”

Virgil chuckled and lead the hungry Hispanic to the restaurant he’d suggested.

Virgil reminded himself over and over that this wasn’t a date, but it was very hard. Especially when, near the end of their meal Roman suddenly started acting nervous. “So… Um… There’s this… Shoot wait a minute,” Roman got up and picked up his phone.

“Si mama…? Que?” Virgil watched Roman look at his watch and jump.

“Perdona! I’ll be there soon.” With that he hung up and took out his wallet. Rambling all the way.

“So sorry Virge! Time got away from us I’m afraid. I swear I intended to give you that ride… Can you call your dad… You know what? Just use the change to take the bus or a cab or something alright? My treat! I’ll call you later!” he promised as he tossed down a few bills before rushing away. Leaving Virgil behind a little stunned. Maybe it was a family thing? It looked urgent.

He took the bus as it was cheaper and there was a stop in his new street.

The house was nice. Though Virgil wasn’t used to it yet. Especially now, when his dads weren’t home, it felt weird being here. Luckily he didn’t plan on staying too long.

He texted his dad while getting dressed. By the time he left the house, he got a reply.

“Don’t wait up. Patton and Thomas say hi. Thomas wants to remind you of the trip to the zoo tomorrow.” Virgil smiled, he didn’t know uncle Thomas was going to be there too… Maybe these projects were just poker nights with the boys. He might have to ask them about it when they got home.

Regardless, duty called.

Virgil was starting to think that he might need to do take a break from turning in evidence for a bit. The criminals were getting agitated.

“I say we attack now! They are weak! We can take them down easily!” he heard one guy suggest. No, turf wars were a bad idea. Clearly he hadn’t thought about maintaining the power balance enough. Good thing he was about to even the playing field again. All these idiots had to do was get caught on his camera with something very illegal, preferably saying the bosses name or any clue the police could use for some kind of big bust.

The leader of this troupe seemed rather well respected. Virgil had learned to spot the difference between the ranks, and if this guy wasn’t answering to the big guy himself, then he was pretty close.

“Boss says we have a truce until the rat is found,” The big dude in question stated.

A truce? Was he that much of a threat? Should he feel flattered or scared?

The tugs argued back and forth a bit more and Virgil was seriously considering just getting out of here. Maybe he could trip up some lower tier members. Or go back to helping lost travelers for a while. Just enough to make the higher ups relax again. They wouldn’t rebuild their ranks too much if they thought it was an inside job or something. Right?

And if they’d realized someone was giving the cops everything they needed to stop them, they wouldn’t plan anything major for a while. Unless the boss was stupid.

Suddenly Virgil saw a figure descend from the roof. He made a hero landing, straight from a superhero movie.

Virgil’s eyes widened. It couldn’t be…

“Do you gentlemen have permits for those weapons?” Dream Prince asked with a deep, booming voice as he rose up, wearing the full costume Virgil had designed. Including the cape. What was he doing here? Stupid question. He was government sanctioned. The chief was on the news a few days ago claiming him as one of theirs.

Which meant she probably asked him to look for Virgil. Does that woman never give up?

The gang was confused by his appearance. One of them calling the young hero ‘prince clown’. Virgil was too far away to see it, but he was willing to bet the clown in question was not too pleased with that.

With a gesture from the leader the gang was silenced. “Sure kid,” he said in a voice that made Virgil stand on high alert. “Got mine right here.”

Or find the stories of Logan and Roman in the Master post

Before Virgil could react in any meaningful way, Prince had shielded himself with his cape and the leader fired at least four rounds at him. The hero was unharmed though. The sounds of bullets falling to the ground the only evidence that they had ever left the barrel in the first place.

“Well now you just pissed me off. This is brand new!” Prince complained as he dropped the cape. And Virgil had to admit, it looked very cool. “I suppose you won't surrender peacefully?” he deduced.

The sound of guns being armed was his only answer. Which was stupid. That was already shown not to work. But sure, shoot with more guns. Don’t actually use your brain or anything. Prince let out an annoyed sigh as he hung his cape from a water pipe. “Fine.” And just like that, he sped towards the criminals through a rain of bullets.

It seemed like he had it handled, and Virgil was pretty sure that he would notice he was there no matter how well he cloaked himself if he got involved. And if he was here to look for him and bring him in for whatever the chief had planned…

Still, he couldn’t make himself just stand by.

He jumped in and helped disarm the criminals and caught a few punches, Prince seemed unlikely to dodge. Pretty soon he felt like Prince was adapting his fighting to his presence which told him that he was in fact spotted.

Soon the gang was down on the ground and their disassembled guns were on a pile on the floor. Virgil returned to the shadows once the sirens lit up the alley.

Prince donned his cloak once more and walked up to where the leader laid, showing off his boot.

“So… how does it feel to get your butt kicked by a guy in heels?” Virgil’s eyes widened as he saw Prince show off the boot. He was wearing the heeled boots? Sure he pulled them off, but that wasn’t a smart move. He couldn’t have had that much time to practice with them yet. Virgil sent the design on Tuesday. Unless… Maybe he’d worn heels before? That was a possibility. Though crime fighting in heels couldn’t be comfortable… Still, it did make the whole thing extra cool, Virgil had to admit.

Suddenly Dream Prince looked up at him and gave a playful wink. So he had noticed him. And he could see him even though he was cloaked right now… Or not quite. He wasn’t looking directly at him. So he knew he was there, just not where exactly.

“Good job Dream Prince. We've got it from here,” one of the police officers who’d come to make the arrests told Prince. The young hero turned to him and bowed.

“It's my pleasure to be of assistance to the police of this fine city.” While he turned around he made a gesture with his hand. Virgil could tell he was being asked to follow.

Part of him wanted to run the other way. But he was curious.

He wanted to take a good look at the costume. He wanted to scold Prince. He wanted to give him a message for the chief. Maybe find out what she wanted from him.

So he followed him all the way to a rooftop.

The city lights illuminated Prince from the back, his cape floating in the wind.

Virgil wished he could take a picture. Roman would love this.

Prince took a step forward and bowed for him. He was really sticking to this Prince thing huh?

“Greetings Phantom. I must thank you for the assist now and three months ago. I am Dream Prince, he/him if you please. A pleasure to officially meet you.” So he had figured out when they’d met.

Virgil couldn’t help a chuckle. He was still cloaking himself. He’d never talked to someone like this before so he had no clue if and how that affected his voice.

“Phantom huh?” Hmm. He kind of liked it. Sure it confirmed that prince was here due to chief. But it was a cool nickname.

“Sure you can call me that. He/him… mind telling me what that was about? I thought you officials weren't let of your leash unless you could be responsible enough to not get yourself killed?” Did he sound a bit catty? Maybe. Was what Prince did idiotic? Absolutely.

Prince didn’t seem to agree. “Says the guy who has half the criminal underworld out for his blood.”

Virgil looked away. Damn. He’d hoped Prince was going to live up to Virgil’s original nickname for him. But he was no idiot.

“Do you have something against the program?” Prince pressed.

“No I…”  Virgil tried to steady himself. It wasn’t Prince’s fault that he was pissed at his boss. “Sorry I’m just pissed at the cops for sending you, I guess,” he admitted reluctantly.

“Yet you chose to follow me up here?” Okay, so he really should give this guy more credit.

“Um… Well… I just…” He couldn’t tell him he was curious about him. That would give away interest on his part and he was not ready to let anything personal slide. He hated being put on the spot like this. Damn, this was not helping the stoic, mysterious guy aura he was going for.

“You interrupted my stake out!” he recalled. Right, one of the reasons he was mad at Prince. The lecture he’d interrupted with his observations.

“Do you know how long it takes to work my way up the ranks? First I have to find a low level runner, then I follow him to his boss, that guy to his and so up the ladder I go. I was getting real close to the big guy of this group. And now…” Sure, he had been thinking about needing to go more low profile for a while to let the rumors simmer out. But still.

“I apologize,” Prince replied sincerely with another bow. It was hard to be mad with this guy. Perfect hero material. “I merely intended to help. They were talking about killing you.”

He appreciated the concern really. But he overlooked one crucial detail.

“And now there is a price on your head! The leader of that little club is like two steps away from the big boss. They won’t be happy with you taking him in.” He couldn’t let him get himself on the bad guys’ list. Not because he thought he needed to protect him. Or maybe a little. When had he started feeling responsible for Prince? Was this how his dad felt? Why he’d tried to keep him from being overly self-sacrificing as a kid?

“You got dirt on them?” Prince wondered.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Yes… But that’s not the point. They have no clue about me. Not really,” just some guesses and rumors. “But you are out in the open.” They’d know who to go after with him. “This is not your kind of mission Royal pain. And now that you are out, you can’t expect me to hold your hand any longer…” Virgil got distracted when Prince crossed his arm and smirked smugly. “You’ve been looking out for me all summer huh?”

That smug little… Fine he got him there.

He rolled his eyes with a scoff, trying to dismiss the statement. “It’s not like I came looking for you.” He just… Did the right thing when they met up.

Prince was the one dreaming if he thought he felt any kind of responsibility towards him. He was just trying to… To be someone he could be proud of. That was why he was doing this. To not feel week and useless. To help people, even if he couldn’t always help those he felt closest to.

“Still… Thank you…” Prince said gently, about to step forward again. But then he cringed and clutched his head. “Ow!”

The young hero sounded more annoyed than in pain.

He pressed a finger to his ear. Communicating with whoever was on the other line no doubt. “One. Loud. Two. Rude! I am in the middle of something! And did you seriously remotely reactivate my com?” Virgil could hear him hiss in the communication device, dropping the regal persona completely. Virgil bit back his amusement.

“I am fine, not a scratch on me,” Prince replied annoyed. “I’ll call you when I’m done here.” And then he seemed to take something out of his ear. He was so lucky Virgil wasn’t a bad guy or he’d just made it a lot easier on him to take him out.

“Sorry,” Prince sighed. “My mentor is… intense at times.”

“Mentor?” Virgil wondered. He’d heard about the GTA program and it’s monitors in the past. But mentors… that sounded a bit more one on one than just people who told you what to do.

“One of the people helping me practice my powers, test my limits. Comes with the program. It’s not just a babysit and a nice suit,” Prince joked.

“Oh…” Virgil didn’t know what to say to that. It was… Something he’d been wanting for a while now. For a way to test all that he could do. To figure out the shield, push the limits of his cloak and try and use his healing for others. Someone to help him strategize, to talk with when he’d had a tough night. But unless he was ready to come clean with his dad, that was out of his reach.

“Listen, I admit I was sent by the chief. But I didn’t come here to recruit you. I wanted to thank you and tell you… If you ever need someone to talk to, to help you figure something out… I’d be more than happy to oblige. No need to tell me your name or anything about yourself.”

Virgil looked at the offered hand. Maybe, it wasn’t impossible after all.

He considered his options. But it seemed like there was no catch to this offer. So he closed the gap and shook his hand.

“I’ll see you next time,” Prince offered kindly before letting go and running straight of the rooftop as if there was a walkway just for him.

Virgil smirked. Maybe he should wrap it up for tonight. Prince and the other heroes had the area covered. He’d collect the information he had on the tugs that were arrested tonight. Next time he saw Dream Prince, he’d hand that information to him.

If things went well… This could be a good partnership.

End of this part. Meet Janus and learn his side

@cirishere​ @hestianerd1 @moonlightshow00 @naturallyunstablegamer @alias290 @meowthefluffy @frida0043 @angelic-cali @selenechris @theblackveilinreverse

[chironshorseass]

29 and 30 fluff for perachel or percabeth? Hehe I like both ships don’t @ me. Love your writing btw!

I kinda managed to do both...kinda lol. This was fun to do :) Sorry in advance for the bad puns.

writing prompts

“Detention? Again?”

“Look, I can explain.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes and sat back on her bed, too tired to stand up and listen to what Percy had to say, most likely.

“Sure you can.”

They’d been Iris Messaging for a few minutes now. Percy, exhausted from a day of school and homework, had taken the first chance off to fish out a drachma from his drawer and call one of the people he’d missed most since the summer.

It had slipped his mind that New York and San Francisco had different time zones. But luckily, Annabeth was still awake. He’d found her in her bedroom, curls pulled into a messy bun and eyebrows scrunched up in concentration as she read some textbook, still studying for the exam she’d talked about a week ago.

Despite her initial complaints about Percy interrupting her, he knew that she didn’t mind.

“So?” she asked, bringing him back to the present.

She pulled her legs under her and stared at him expectantly.

He blinked. “Huh?”

She raised an eyebrow, and Percy thought—in the back of his mind—that she looked unfairly pretty. At night, with the fairy lights illuminating her hair and her face, like an angel.

“Why’d you get detention?”

“Oh. That.”

“Yes, Seaweed Brain. That.”

“Uhm…” Percy scratched the back of his neck. “It’s kind of a funny story, I um…”

“Spit it out.”

Now that he thought about it, maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all. Maybe he should’ve thought this through, to avoid any arguments. Or confrontations. Or another cold shoulder. They weren’t as awkward now that the school year had started, but the mention of her always put Annabeth on edge, anyway.

“You see, I was with, uh...Rachel.”

He paused, noticing the way she gripped her textbook tighter, slightly wrinkling the pages.

Why did I think this was a good idea? Stupid.

“I was with Rachel, and she sort of, um...” he laughed nervously, already cringing. “Made a bet?”

Technically, he’d made the bet. But that wasn’t important for Annabeth to know.

/

Chemistry, in Percy’s opinion, was the most boring class Goode had to offer. Useless. Irrelevant.

Confusing, most of all.

At least he was partners with Rachel. It was one of the few classes they had together. They sat at the very back, so they were rarely noticed anyway, mostly spending the forty five minutes of lectures about chemical equations doing little drawing games on their notebooks and playing hangman. Percy lost most of the time.

The teacher wasn’t that great, either. Most of the school knew her as Mrs. Jones. She was a short lady in her late sixties with thin, badly dyed hair who had a concerning addiction to gum—so to Percy and Rachel—she was known as Mrs. Gum-Gum. She turned to the board for some explanation that Percy had completely lost interest on since the first five minutes of class. Rachel let out a low moan, hands on her forehead.

“Kill me now,” she muttered.

“Sorry, I can’t. My sword doesn’t work on you.”

“I hate you.”

“Yeah,” he grinned, leaning backwards and tilting his chair. “I know.”

She hit him in the shin. “You’re going to fall one of these days, and the class will never let you forget it.”

“Eh,” Percy shrugged. “At least they’d get a laugh and you wouldn’t be so bored.”

Her green eyes twinkled with humor like she’d just remembered something. She snorted. “Okay. So this one time, a girl was doing the same thing as you, leaning back and all—and she like, fell. It was hilarious, because she just lay there, with her feet in the air.”

“Rachel Dare,” Gum-Gum called, narrowed eyes cast on them. She kind of sounded like a wounded hyena, in his humble opinion. “I sure hope you and Mr. Jackson are discussing the worksheet that I gave out.”

Rachel nodded and threw her a thumbs up, while Percy held a fist to his mouth to stop the smile forming on his face. Gum-Gum left her alone and went back to her lecture.

The class kept its monotone routine of worksheets and notes, so as a distraction, Rachel grabbed his arm and popped the lids off her sharpies, drawing little figurines. She was on his second tattoo when an idea came to him.

“Hey, Rach?” he whispered, making sure the teacher was facing the board.

“Hmm.”

“We should play truth or dare.”

She grabbed the green marker and spread the ink from side to side across his skin. “Mmm...No.”

“Come on,” he whined. “I’m bored.”

“Yeah, but we’ve done truth or dare so many times now. It’s gotten old. Besides, you’re such a pussy.”

“Am not.”

“Yes, you are. Remember that time I dared you to eat the gum from under the seat?”

Percy made a face. “That was so fucking gross. Nobody in their right mind would’ve done that. Maybe Mrs. Gum-Gum, but I am not on her level.”

“I figured, after you blatantly refused. And then there’s the time when I dared you to kiss Mary Andrews. On the cheek. And you couldn’t do it.”

“Oh my gods, I can’t just kiss girls. That’s leading them on.”

She exhaled, long and deep and stared at him as if he were a lost cause. “Okay. Whatever.”

She went back to drawing on his arm.

“If anyone’s the pussy right now,” he whispered. “It’s you.”

“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that. You just wish you were as marginally cool as me.”

“Um...Then why won’t you play truth or dare?”

“Like I said: bo-ring.” She leaned closer to his arm, creating tiny details with the thinner side of the sharpie. “And don’t tell me I don’t do the dares, ‘cause I do. My last name’s Dare, after all. It would be a complete dishonor.”

“How long have you waited to say that?”

“Oh, you don’t wanna know. Now hold still. You’d look good with tattoos, by the way.”

He sighed. Okay, fine. She had a point, he wasn’t that great at doing “cool” stuff, likely because he was traumatized by the getting-kicked-out-of-schools thing he had going for him. You know, maybe it was that.

As Percy watched her work with her sharpies, he realized: maybe there was a way to prove to her that he could do daring stuff. A once in a lifetime thing. And in the process, he could make her smile.

“Fine,” he said. “If you don’t wanna do something, then let’s make a bet.”

“Depends on what you want to bet on, but go on.”

“How much money would you give me to flip this table, right here, right now, in the middle of class?”

The read-head stopped creating the swirly lines of the little wave she’d been working on, making his skin tingle from the loss of the pointy marker. She lifted her freckled face, watching him with raised eyebrows.

“Nah, you don’t have the guts.”

“Psh. ‘Course I do. I’m Percy Jackson.”

“Ohhh! Percy Jackson. I’m Rachel Dare, nice to meet you.” She lifted her hand like she wanted Percy to shake it.

He slapped it away. “Shut up. I can totally do it.”

“Do you not care about getting in trouble with dear ol’ Gum-Gum?”

“I’ll make it seem like an accident.”

“Nothing you do seems like an accident to teachers.”

“Good point. Still be worth it, though.” He lowered his voice even further. “Besides, I gotta prove to you that I can do cool stuff.”

Rachel snorted. “Now I could literally ask you to do drugs and you’d do it, apparently. Peer pressure is a dangerous thing, my dude.”

He grinned. “And I want your money. You’re like, rich, Dare.”

“Thanks for the reminder, Jackson.”

“No problem.”

Gum-Gum shot them an admonishing look, and they pretended to do their work.

“So,” she said after a few seconds passed. “How much money?”

“I knew you could work with me.”

“Ugh, I’m getting second thoughts from your dramatism.”

“You love it.”

They held gazes, green on green. Rachel narrowed hers and sighed. 

“Again, how much money?”

Percy shrugged. “You decide.”

“Fine.” She flipped some of her fiery curls over her shoulder. “I’m betting on a hundred bucks.”

He whistled under his breath. “Damn. You want me to do it that badly?”

“I do want to see everyone’s reaction to Percy Jackson losing his shit.” He shoved her, but she continued. “Especially Gum-Gum’s. But I know we’re getting in trouble, so we might as well go all out. What? It’s true! But at least you’d get your money.”

Percy shook his head. He’d probably regret this later.

Then he thought, what would Annabeth think?

But he couldn't dwell too much on that. At least it would be funny.

“We need to clear the desk, though.”

“Duh.”

So they worked, as quietly and discreetly as they could. When they’d finished, Percy turned to Rachel and nodded. She put a hand against her mouth to muffle her laughter.

On the third count, he flipped the desk. The table crashed with a resonating bang.

Rachel leaned backwards and let out a sound of surprise, probably because she’d half speculated that he wouldn’t pull through with it in the first place.

Immediately, everyone craned their heads to the back of the room. Some jumped at the sound. Others gasped or snickered, especially at the sight of Mrs. Gum-Gum. She yelped and dropped her marker, slapping a hand to her chest and retreating a few steps as if she were about to go into cardiac arrest.

“Percy Jackson!”

He winced a bit, but all in all, he thought he was keeping a straight face. But then he caught onto Rachel’s expression, arms crossed. He doubted they’d get off freely, just as she’d said.

/

As they shouldered their backpacks, heading for room 1345—detention—Rachel slipped her hand in the pocket of her paint-splattered uniform skirt.

“I didn’t know I had the money with me, but it seems as though he fates are in your favor, Jackson,” she said, taking the dollar bills from her pocket and handing them to him. They both knew all too well that she didn’t care for it. Daddy issues, he recalled.

Percy raised his eyebrow. “Thanks, Rach. Now, I can finally buy a new skateboard.”

“Nice to know that this was worth it.”

“Especially since now you have to do something...daring.”

She tapped her index finger to her temple mockingly. “Oh, I see. That’s why you wanted to do that bet. So then we could be on even ground.”

“Do you agree, Dare?”

“My gods, you’re so corny. But sure. Though let's not get ourselves a detention pass the next time, hmm? I feel bad for you. How many have you gotten this semester?” She clicked her tongue. “What will your mom say?”

1343, 1344 ... 1345. This was the place. Through the window, he could see many of the students already settling in, giving the teacher the strip of paper that he and Rachel had in their pockets.

He exhaled. “I don’t want to think about Mom just yet. But honestly, I don’t mind detention. And I don’t think she would, either. Better than getting kicked out.”

“Mmhmm. And I don’t really mind spending some more quality time with you. Even if we get in trouble, I kinda think you’re nice to be around, Jackson.” She smiled and held her arm out for him to pass. For some reason, that comment made his chest feel warm and fuzzy. “Gentlemen first.”

“Isn’t it ladies first?”

“Chivalry is dead. Now go on.” She nodded towards the door. “I like being fashionably late.”

“And you say I’m the dramatic one,” he grumbled.

[gallavictorious]

Would you be able to write a lil fic from Kev's POV of Yev's christening party? I just know Kev would find Mickey's "guess what we've been doing, daddy" monologue hilarious. And maybe Kev notices Ian and Mickey being super soft after and realizes they're actually really good for each other?

An incensed roar; a table tossed aside; the sound of glass smashing, and of fists against flesh. Kevin Ball takes a deep breath and closes his eyes and reaches for nirvana. Or for enlightment. Or whatever. He isn't really clear on that whole bit. But he's calm, he's cool, breathing slowly, this is all good, shit was the noise of someone's neck snapping, no, no, he didn't hear that, it's peace, love, all that crap, he's so relaxed –

Shit, this is hard.

Fortunately, someone must have called the police and the police must have been nearby because it's just minutes before the cops storm in to haul off both Terry and Mick. The amount of damage done to the bar is still pretty impressive, Kev sees when he finally opens his eyes with a sigh of relief, but that's okay; the Milkoviches are usually surprisingly good about actually paying for that stuff. It's one of the reasons Kev doesn't mind them hosting their parties here, in spite of said parties ending in brawls as often as they don't.

The other reason is that they'd probably burn the bar down if he tried to refuse them.

Kev looks up from the sad remaints of a chair to catch sight of Ian slipping out the door, after the cops and their captives. There's this look on his bloodied face, something fierce and determined and grimly triumphant, and Kev can't help but frown, suddenly a little uneasy.

Thing is, maybe he should have seen it earlier. He knows he's not the brightest tool in the shed; he's okay with that. He's got V to do the sharp thinking, and besides, Kevin Ball ain't stupid about people. He notices things, and looking back, there's been all these little hints, shit Mickey's said and done in the past few months, and there's that thing he heard from a grumpy Lip about Mickey staying over at the Gallagher house ever since Ian came home. And okay, maybe he'd found that a bit weird, but Kev's been little busy lately by small things like becoming a father, so maybe he hasn't had too much time to worry about where his business partner might be putting his head down, okay. A man can only have so many things on his mind at once. Three maybe. He thinks he's read that somewhere. Or V told him.

But yeah, maybe he should have seen it earlier, but he hadn't. Doesn't get it until he sees them having a clearly heated but quiet conversation over by the side of the bar just before Terry shows up; then something finally clicks. Not quite into a certainty, but into enough of one that he's compelled to slide Ian a shot when Mickey runs off to greet his dad, and isn't exactly shocked when Mickey turns the music off to make his declaration.

Good for you, Mickey, Kev has just enough time to think before Terry charges at his son like a deranged bull and all hell breaks loose. Not that Kev paid any attention to that, because he's a conscienctious objector now; he doesn't only not do violence, he doesn't even see violence.

Now that calm's been restored to the bar, everyone but the most persistent drunks has gone outside to watch the arrest unfold, so Kev follows suit. It's freezing cold, the way only Chicago in winter can be, but he doubts either Terry or Mickey can feel the chill; they're still straining to get at each other, struggling against the police holding them down, and screaming blue murder.

”Get out of my house, you pole-smoking queer!” Terry bellows, but whatever hold he once had over his son must have broken because Mickey doesn't even hesitate, and there's a wild sort of glee in his voice as he calls: ”Fuck you, don't worry about it! I've been staying at Ian's since you've been in the can, bitch! Guess what we've been doin', daddy! We've been fuckin'! And I take it! He gives it to me good and hard and I fuckin' like it.”

That's more than Kev ever wanted to know about Mickey's sex life, really, but he still can't help but grin as Mickey humps the car, giving emphasis to his words. ”Fuck you, I suck his dick and I fuckin' love it.”

Mickey's always been an expressive bastard, unafraid to speak his mind. Kev finds it both hilarious and worthy of respect, though upon reflection maybe there's a few things Mickey has actually been afraid to speak of, after all. Until now, at least.

Good for you, Mickey, he thinks, again.

The cops take Terry away; the guests filter back inside. The place is a mess and the object of the celebration has long since been whisked away by his mother but that's no reason to break up a party on the South Side, so Kev alternates wiping up blood with serving beer after beer after shot of cheap liquor. Everyone seems to be in high spirits; nothing like a good old-fashioned brawl to get the blood pumping on a cold winter's night, and the story of Mickey Milkovich coming out to the whole bar at his own son's baptism party is a good enough story to last a few retellings.

Ian and Mickey are nowhere to be seen, Kev notes, and again there's that sense of unexpected unease, of worry.  He remembers Ian's face covered in blood, the hard look there transforming him from the earnest kid Kev's known since he was in elementary school and into someone he's not sure he knows at all. Ian's scrappy, like all the Gallaghers; bit of a punk at times, and way into that Army crap of course, but at heart he's always been gentle. Hardworking, and caring, and soft in the way none of his siblings were; a good kid, for all that he's gotten himself in a bit of trouble lately, though Kev's not entirely caught up on that.

And now Ian's gone and gotten himself involved with Mickey Milkovich, who is about as far from a good kid as it's possible to get.

That's not to say that Kev doesn't like Mickey. The guy's funny, he has some good ideas and great initiative; he makes things happen, like that whole rub-and-tug business (okay, so maybe there's been a few misunderstandings about how they're to split the money and whatever, but apart from that, Kev's got no complaints about having Mickey for a partner). He also pays for his beer and isn't a bad drunk, both things a bartender knows how to appreciate. So yeah, Kev likes Mickey just fine... but he's not sure he likes him just fine as Ian's boyfriend.

Truth is, while Kev's not scared of Mickey – c'mon – he's not not scared of him either. Sure Mickey's about half his size, but he's ruthless and kind of crazy and has access to fuck know how many guns (that he actually knows how to use, unlike Kev), not to mention a whole bunch of brothers and cousins and whatever he can call upon. He's a criminal, the real kind, and it's probably only a matter of time before he follows his father and his brothers into big boy jail. Kev doesn't judge – you do what you need to get by, and it's bad practise for a barkeep to look down at his patrons anyway – but he can't help but wonder what it'll mean for a kid like Ian to get caught up in all that hardcore Milkovich madness.

For one, he's not sure gentleness can survive it very long, and he'd hate to see Ian lose that kind heart of his; hate to see him freeze and harden. He'd hate to see him give up on his dreams too, though maybe it's too late for that already, 'cause of what happened with the Army and that helicopter...

It occurs to Kev that Ian ran away just after Mickey married Svetlana.

Oh, shit. This must have been going on for years. Gallaghers have always been attracted to trouble, Kev supposes. He tries to stay out of it, for the most part. Live and let live – and let V be the one to make the off-hand judgemental comments or give it to someone straight if need be. Sure, Kev's been there to throw some advice Lip's way when Lip's been particularly stubborn about something or someone, but there's no way he's getting involved in this. Word got back to Mickey that Kev had tried to meddle in his love life, no talk of peace and love and overflowing plates of cabbage would save him from a bullet to the head, and his kids are not gonna grow up without a father.

It'll probably be fine anyway. Not like he begrudges Mickey a bit of happiness, and Ian's a tough kid. He can take care of himself.

It'll be fine.

Kev keeps telling himself that as he starts shooing the last remaining guests out.

---

He catches sight of them just a little later, when he's finally done getting the priest – half a bottle of vodka and two hookers in on his road to heaven on Earth – out the door, and is taking out the trash.

They're laughing. Through the blood and broken teeth, they're laughing. Ian winces with it, clearly in pain, and Kev considers heading over to ask if they're okay, if they need, well he's not sure, an ice pack or someone to walk them home or something.

He imagines Mickey reacting to that latter suggestion and reminds himself of his decision not to leave his daughters fatherless.

Ian and Mickey has stopped laughing, stopped talking, now (and if Kev had been an introspective kind of guy he might have paused to wonder at how easy it is to think of them like that, as one unit, as a couple, Ian and Mickey). Mickey's head is sagging slightly; Ian's looking at him with an intensity Kev can pretty much feel, even from twenty feet away and with Ian's back turned toward him. He knows he should go inside and leave them to whatever it is they've got going here, but he can't quite look away, his concern mingling with curiosity.

As he watches, Ian rises. He walks over to Mickey and slings an arm around his shoulder in half a hug, before softly running his fingers through the other boy's hair and bending down to press a brief kiss to the top of his head. There's nothing sexual about it; it's affection and comfort, offered easily.

Offered gently.

Mickey doesn't shy away from the touch. He leans into the hug; there's a faint smile on his lips as Ian pulls away, and it comes to Kev then that maybe it won't be Mickey's ruthlessness that tempers Ian's gentleness, but the other way around. Maybe Ian saw something underneath all that sneer and swagger that no one else could see, but was always there.

Maybe it really will be fine. Kev thinks maybe he believes it now.

---

A/N: Thank you for the prompt, nonnie! <3

I'm very happy you clearly specified 'lil' because yes, this I can do! Tiny little things I can mostly make happen! Might take me a while, but still. :) It was very interesting and rather more challenging that I had expected to try to get into Kev's head during these moments (though it gave me an excuse to rewatch all of Kev and Mickey's scenes in season 4, which was a delight!). I hope it's somewhere in the vincinity of what you envisioned, even if it didn't really get into why Ian and Mickey would be really good for each other; I think that's a realization that comes to Kev bit by bit over the years. Would love to see some scenes with him and Mickey in season 11.

This ficlet incidentally got me thinking about how the people of the South Side would distinguish between 'regular' people who don't mind breaking the law when given the opportunity and 'real' criminals who makes a living by actively doing so. Seems like it'd be a fine line at times...

Oh, and I do know that tools in the shed tend to be sharp rather than bright, but think that Kev is the sort to mix up expressions (and I feel the need to point this out since I'm not confident enough in my English to trust that this kind of thing will come across as intentional :p).

[lo-55]

Playing With Fire Ch. 2

What Do You Know?

@emrysaf

When dawn breaks through the window and assaults your eyes you take a few long minutes to relish the feeling of obliviousness. 

If you lay here for long enough and pretend hard enough that yesterday never happened maybe you can open your eyes to your own living room, or even a hospital room where they’ll tell you you took too many Benadryl and hallucinated everything. 

Eventually you have to open your eyes and look to the ceiling. 

You really don’t wanna do this, but here you are. Doing this. 

You really, really wanna open your eyes and find yourself home, with the storm blown over and your life back to normal. You wanna call your parents, who you never knew you could miss quite this bad. 

You can’t do any of these things. 

All you can do is open your eyes and look at the unfamiliar ceiling.

There’s a few cracks in it that you count while you remind yourself how to breathe. Eventually you have to get up and change into the school uniform instead of the blinding orange jumpsuit. If you remember right you were all supposed to meet in a classroom to get your final assignments, and then jump on a train and go to your new company with a resume in hand. 

You ended up following a pair of girls to the classroom, where you plopped yourself next to Shinra. You didn’t see Arthur or Ogun anywhere, which was weird. If you recalled right Ogun stayed in the fourth after graduation, and he and Arthur were close friends of Shinra, even if Arthus disagreed with that fact for the most part. 

You shoot Shinra a quick grin, and turn to face the front again. 

If you remember right, this was where your were assigned the fourth in the game, along with Ogun. You (or the MAIN character) got in trouble snooping around and Ogun, after hearing your reasoning, turned himself into your own personal body guard. 

Now that you were thinking about it, it might be a good idea to start writing everything you know down. 

God knows you’re gonna forget something important when you need to remember it. 

Er, Sol knows? 

This is stupid. 

You look up at some nameless teacher who paces the front, holding a stack of assignments for you and copies of the applications that had been sent to each of the companies. 

This is it. 

You sit a bit straighter. 

The teacher hands out each person a form. When you look to the side you see Shinra grinning that huge, nervous smile of his and it’s all you can do not to pinch his cheeks and tell him how cute he is. 

The teacher finally hands you your assignment. 

Company 8. 

You do a fist pump. 

“Hell yeah! First choice!” 

A few of your classmates shoot you startled looks. Was your character really so quiet before? 

“Hey, I got the same one,” Shinra poked his head over to see. The list was pretty simple. All it said was the company number, their captain, leuitenant, and address. A glance around revealed that everyone else had a whole packet of information on their new companies. But 8 was so small, and so new, apparently they didn’t warrant it. 

That was fine. You already knew enough it hardly mattered. 

“We’ll be together then,” you say cheerfully. “Wanna take the train together?” 

Please say yes. I don’t know where the train station is. Or how to ride one. 

Shinra nodded, “Yeah. Sounds like fun.” 

“Wanna meet at my room and we’ll go? It says we’re supposed to meet them at their station this afternoon.” 

“Are you sure?” Shinra looked startled. You poked his cheek. 

“I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t, babe.” 

Shinra suddenly looked unsettled. “You’re not just doing this to mess with me, right?” 

“Mess with you?” You cocked your head. “What would I do that for?” 

He didn’t have an answer for that, but it made you sad. You knew he got teased a lot, but was it really so bad he thought you being friendly was a trick? 

You were so gonna get in a fight here someday. 

You flipped your company eight paper around so you could take a look at the copy of your resume that they’d be getting there. It was pretty bare bones. It had your name, age, weight, height, blood type, and listed you as a Second Class Fire Soldier, as well as your grades. They were all pretty average, but apparently you were good at math. 

You didn’t have a home address, but it did say you were Ueno, but that part you knew already. In the game you’d gone to Asakusa on an errand, done a bunch of side quests, and found out that Ueno was your home town and it was nearby. It was mostly made of museums and old buildings. 

Still nothing about your pyrokinesis. Damn it. 

This was starting to get annoying. 

“So I’ll see you in a few hours, right?” You clarify quickly, looking up at Shinra. 

Shinra still looks surprised, but he nods quickly, with another small smile. “Yeah. I’ll see you then.” 

You bump fists with him again before you retreat to your room. 

You take to your desk and grab a pencil and paper to try to write down everything you remember, in english for good measure. You don’t know how you know japanese now, but then again you don’t know a lot of things lately. 

What I know for sure: 

MAIN CHARACTER’s family is from Ueno. They died in an infernal fire. They had a sister they’re looking for. They have their sisters ring, a scar on their wrist, and lighter that’s connected to the Tragic Back Story. After the fire SISTER enrolled in the Fire Force Special Academy, leaving MAIN on their own for a few years. She disappeared not long after graduating, and MAIN joined to try to find her in turn. 

In the original game MAIN joins fourth company, which their sister was a part of before her disappearance. In their first night there they dream of a man in a red suit who smiles and pats their head. He’s probably important. Maybe dad??? Likely dead. They snoop around and get in trouble a couple of times, but the captain is on their side and let’s it slide with a slap on the wrist? And no mention of wanting to be lit on fire. He’s a cool, if weird old dude. 

Ogun takes it upon himself to look after MAIN after they nearly get arrested looking into 5th company. 

    Note, avoid the Princess until after Shinra works his magic. 

A choice is made: agree to let Ogun help or ditch him. 

MAIN chose help and together THEY snuck into the Holy Sol Temple. While Ogun looks above, MAIN manages to find a door leading down to old training grounds.

    Note. MAIN didn’t know they were for the shadow sun whatever they were called training. 

MAIN gets lost and pops out at the end of a tunnel, where Joker happens to be setting some cards up. 

    Note . Why???? 

A choice is made ; Tell Joker the truth or lie. 

MAIN admits to Joker that they’re looking into a disappearance, and suspect the church of having something to do with it. They admit that they think the entire situation is a little hazy, and the history is a fragile thing. After that Joker is considered a Friend.  

MAIN returns to Ogun, but only hints at what they found underground. That night they dream of the Man in Red, who tries to speak to them and pats them again. They notice he has a ring with the same design as their own. 

MAIN also spent time in Asakusa with Benimaru Shinmon and Konro. MAIN was little more than an over glorified messenger at the time, but took advantage of the opportunity to see their old home. (UENO) 

    Note. Benimaru is hot

A choice is maid ; leave at once or help out. 

Did a buncha side quests in Asakusa when MAIN stumbled on an old subway entrance in the basement of a restaurant they were working in. The owner says it’s dangerous to go down, but there are a few other holes around the city. Most have been boarded up long ago. 

MAIN, not knowing what they are, leaves them be. 

    Note. Were the subways part of the underground church forbidden place??? Asakusa doesn’t follow the church? So they don’t think they’d curses just dark and flooded? 

MAIN goes home. Rumors of the White Clad begin to circulate, and MAIN goes to company eight to ask Shinra about them directly, thinking that their sister might have been taken by them. 

. . . 

You look at your paper and realize something vital. 

You’ve misspelled maid. 

Fuck it. 

You also write the three powers you could have picked down in blue ink, taking the last pen in your drawer out.

The fire wings, Phoenix in the game. They were support type, with heavy defense properties and minor healing powers, but you couldn't fly which was lame. 

The fire spear, the Sun Lance, was a damage type power. It took fire from around you and made a blade at the end of a long stick. Technically it was a spear, but if you flipped it upside down you could ride it like a witches broom. That one you could fly with, but not the wings. 

The magnet sand, Dark Desert, was a tank type. They made a lot of long range weapons and smashed through fire pretty easily and made strong walls, but it couldn't get too close to you or you yourself will take damage, and you can’t move while you use it. 

They’re all really cool, but you still don’t know which you have and you have no idea how to find out. And you can’t ask anyone or you’ll look crazy! 

...Maybe you should arrange an ‘accidental’ fall down the stairs and claim anmesia. 

Just when you’re seriously considering that option a harsh knock sounds on the door. 

You jump and smash your arm so hard into the drawer you actually break the bottom out of it. 

“Shit! Just a second!” You yell at the door. You scramble to try to hide the evidence when you realize ; the drawer isn’t broken. The bottom is fake. 

You carefully extract, from within, a thin, red, leatherbound book. A look at the inside cover shows you a note. 

To keep your thoughts in order, you scatter brain. 

<3 Fuyuki

Another knock sounds. 

“Hey! Are you ready to go?” Calls Shinra from the other side. 

“Y-yeah! Just a second!” You stuff the book into the front pocket of your bag and throw yourself to the door. You swing it open and throw Shinra back with your blinding grin. 

“Let’s go!” 

~

When the two of you board the train, each clutching your bag close, you’re forced to stand shoulder to shoulder with Shinra, who ends up keeping up his grin the whole time even though you can see him visibly straining to stop it. 

It probably doesn’t help that you keep looking at him, but oh well. 

The second you step out on the platform the screaming starts. A burning train is on its way. An infernal. You and Shinra scramble towards the sound, with Shinra in the lead, and come to a halt just in time to see the train stop. Fire streams out the windows and a creature from a nightmare crawls out of door. 

You swallow thickly. You can smell burning flesh. You can feel heat on your skin. 

This is real. 

You tear your eyes away from the walking corpse in time to see Company 8’s bad ass entrance. They’re all so cool! Maki is such a badass, and Obi is way too strong, and Iris is sweet faced and determined- 

You’re barely able to focus on the infernal itself, and you actually forget that the big metal sign is going to fall up until it happens. 

Shinra shoots off like a bullet. 

You’re left behind, your hair whipping behind you and your arm raised to protect your face while Shinra saves Iris for not-the-last-time. 

You watch him introduce himself, for a moment feeling like you’re just an observer. Its not really intruding, but the familiarity of it all doesn’t help anything. 

It’s not until Shinra points at you and says your name that you snap to attention. Your body knows to salute even if you don’t. 

“Sir!” You echo. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. That was totally awesome, sir.” 

Obi gives you a brief once over before he nods, seriously. 

“Yes. Yes it was. It’s good to have the two of you. Come on. We should get going, back to the cathedral.” 

You and Shinra hurry to grab your things and follow after the four of them. 

When they’re not looking you elbow Shinra. 

“That was so cool!” You hiss. “I didn’t even have time to react and you totally saved the sister!” 

“A-ah, you really think so?” Shinra looked away, his cheeks pink and his grin huge. He scratched his cheek in embarrassment. “ I just did what any hero would!” 

You laugh and swing your arm around his shoulder. “True! Still, it was really awesome. I know I can count on you to help me in the future, right?” 

Shinra nods quickly, however embarrassed he might be.

“Yeah! Or I’m not-” 

You don’t get to hear his new, weird nickname. You’re cut off by the fact that instead of loading into a matchbox the captain has called you a cab. 

That’s weird. 

You know that’s weird. 

“...I don’t get it, but I’m not fighting it,” you say after a minute, and crawl inside. Shinra follows suit and the two of you finally make your way to the run down cathedral. 

Home suite home. 

 ~  ~

A/N So which power do you guys wanna see?

Dark Desert, Phoenix, or Sun Lance? Please let me know!

[iamtrebleclefstories]

I Believe in Second Chances - Part 6

Drunken nights and wedding invites

A lot of you have been asking me when this takes place. The story is taking place during s9, which means that Derek is alive and the plane crash victims are currently in the process of filing a lawsuit against the plane charter/hospital. It still is SGH because the hospital sale has not happened yet. Things will all make sense and I will reference them further on in the story!

“Jo! Dude, wake up!”

“Huh?” Jo shot upright and looked around at her surroundings, trying to determine what was going on. 

“We’re gonna be late to the hospital. Put some pants on and get up from the couch,” Alex yelled from his place in the kitchen. 

“I don’t want to,” Jo groaned. “Five more minutes.”

“You said that fifteen minutes ago when I tried to wake you up the first time,” Alex smirked and took a sip of his coffee. “I’m serious. I have a surgery and you got a lecture with Webber and all the other interns in half an hour.” 

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Jo stood up sluggishly from the couch, searching for her pants on the floor. “I’d much rather be in surgery.”

“Well, you can’t today. At least for the first few hours,” Alex walked into the living room and laughed slightly at Jo’s disheveled appearance. He bent down and picked up her jeans that had landed somewhere around the fireplace. “You looking for these?”

“Yes!” Jo reached out and began to slip her legs in. “How the hell did they end up over there?”

“You were pretty wasted last night,” Alex handed Jo the other mug of coffee in his hand. “I had to carry you inside because you couldn’t get out of the car without falling. I placed you on the couch and by the time I came back with some water and Advil, your pants were on the floor and you were knocked out.” 

“You know, it’s embarrassing how many times you’ve seen my ass,” Jo cringed. “Sure, we’re friends, but you’re also my boss and you live with another one of my bosses. Where is Yang by the way?”

“She left twenty minutes ago.”

“Great so she saw my ass too.” 

“She didn’t see your ass,” Alex rolled his eyes. “I covered you with a blanket before I went to bed last night. You were completely covered.” 

“How thoughtful of you,” Jo deadpanned. 

“Hey, I could have just left you lying there on the couch in a t-shirt and your underwear all night. But instead of being a jerk, I covered you up and made sure you were nice and warm. It is December after all,” Alex flashed her a smug grin. “It's a nice ass by the way.”

“What a gentleman,” Jo replied sarcastically and laughed at the way Alex rolled his eyes again. 

“Come on, let’s go. There’s a thermos with coffee⎯one third cup of milk and three teaspoons of sugar⎯and a grilled cheese sandwich on the counter,” Alex said as he threw on a jacket and slipped on his boots. He heard shuffling and a set of eyes on him. Alex turned to see Jo staring at him with a curious expression on her face. “What?”

“How did you know how I like my coffee?” Jo asked, brows furrowing. “I’ve never told you that.”

Alex chuckled awkwardly, “I just… I figured that’s how you might like it. I take my coffee the same way.” 

“Uh huh,” Jo continued to stare at him curiously. “You know, I find it kind of unfair that you just seem to know all of my quirks beforehand and I have to learn them as we go.” 

Not really knowing what to say to that, Alex shrugged, “Sorry?”

“Okay, sure,” Jo chuckled. “You are definitely way too happy about knowing so much about me.”

“Whatever, let’s go.” 

————

“You still haven’t made a move?” 

Alex was getting tired of the constant meddling of his friends. Today he was getting grilled by Cristina, Jackson, and surprisingly Bailey. “No I haven’t. I already told you guys that I’m waiting for the right time.” 

“Dude, well you better make a move before I do. She’s hot and I need to get over April,” Jackson frowned. 

“Shut up,” Alex shot him an unimpressed glare. “Over my dead body. Just figure it out with Kepner. Choose to be together. Don’t be an idiot that hurts the people you love. Same thing goes for you and Hunt, Yang.”

“Well, I don’t see you choosing to be together with Wilson,” Bailey said from her spot on the couch as she flipped through a medical journal. 

“You see, even Bailey thinks you’re being ridiculous,” Cristina snickered. “What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you waiting? She obviously likes you. Otherwise, she wouldn’t crash on our couch on average three nights out of the week. She literally passed out on our couch like four days ago. I walked out of the house and there she was on the couch, sound asleep while this idiot was making coffee in the kitchen and staring at her longingly.” 

“Hold on, let me get this straight,” Jackson placed a hand under his chin. “This girl spends the night at your house on a regular basis and she sleeps on the couch downstairs? Not in your bed? Are you losing your touch? Is that what’s happening?”

“I’m not losing my touch,” Alex grumbled. He looked at his friends who stared at him with raised eyebrows. “Look, I know she likes me. I overheard her talking with the other interns a few weeks ago. But she’s scared because she’s been through some things that gave her some major trust issues. That’s why I’m taking it slow and waiting because I am not gonna screw this up. Not this time.” 

“Karev, you listen to me now,” Bailey pointed a finger at him. “Here is what you are going to do. My wedding is in three days. You are going to bring Wilson as your plus one to my wedding. You are going to be kind and charming and keep your hands to yourself and your eyes from wandering. You are gonna give her your full attention and then give her a ride home. And at the end of the night, you are going to tell her how you feel and let her think about what that means. Then, you just go from there. Understood?”

Alex huffed a slight laugh, “Yes Dr. Bailey.” 

————

“Hey! I heard you were on my service again today,” Alex smiled as Jo approached him. It had been a couple days since he’d truly seen her. Sure, they’d passed by each other in the halls, but the past few days had been especially busy for the both of them and he hadn’t seen her since she woke up on his couch almost a week ago. 

“I love peds. All the babies and kids and joy and magic,” Jo sighed dreamily. “Sure, it sucks that they’re sick, but kids really bring out the best in people.” Jo looked at Alex teasingly. “You especially. You’re a huge jerk to everyone else, but those kids bring this happy, soft side of you. It’s a good look. You should show people more often.” 

“And ruin my reputation? Nah,” Alex scoffed. “Can’t freak my friends out by letting them think that I’m not cold and dead inside.” 

“Well, I feel honored that I get to see this side of you,” Jo smiled. 

Her smile always seemed to give him butterflies. Something about that beautiful smile that awakened something deep within him. It was mesmerizing. So much so, that he often found himself getting lost in it. 

“Hello? Earth to Alex. You okay?” Jo waved her hand in front of Alex’s face. 

“Yeah,” Alex shook himself out of his thoughts. “Yeah I’m fine. Let’s go check on my pre-ops.” 

They did their rounds on patients before finally making it to the room of the child who’d be getting their surgery performed first thing today, “Hey Jenna! How’s it going?”

“Hi Dr. Kawev!” the small five year old girl gave him a toothless grin. “Look! I lost my toof last night!”

“Dude, that is so cool!” Alex high-fived Jenna and smiled at the parents. “Did you get money from the tooth fairy?”

“Uh huh,” Jenna nodded emphatically. “I got two dowwas.”

“Two dollars? Wow, the tooth fairy must really like you,” Alex looked back at Jo and pointed. “You see that woman over there? That’s Dr. Wilson and she’s gonna be helping me with your surgery today.”

“Girls can be doctows too?” Jenna’s eyebrows shot up in excitement.

“They sure can,” Alex nodded. “Girls can do anything boys can do. And a lot of times they do it better than the boys.” 

“Woah! That’s so cool,” Jenna’s eyes lit up. “I wanna be a doctow too!” 

Jo’s face broke out into a smile and she felt her heart flutter at the little girl’s words, “Really? Well, it’s going to take a long time and be hard sometimes, but you can do it.”

“Why did you wanna become a doctow, Dr. Kawev?”

“You know, nobody has asked me that before,” Alex paused and looked at the girl for a moment before responding. “Well, I have a younger sister and when she was a kid, one day she got really sick. So, I took her to the hospital to get some help because my mom and my dad couldn’t do it. And while we were sitting there, I saw all the hard work the doctors were doing to try to help my sister and it made me happy that somebody cared so much about a stranger’s life to save them. That day was the day I decided that I wanted to help people.”

“I wanna help people too,” Jenna decided. “But fiwst, I need youwe help.”

“You sure, do and we’re gonna take you up into surgery right now. Say goodbye to mommy and daddy,” Alex instructed and turned over to Jo. “Prep her for surgery and I’ll meet you in the OR in twenty.” 

They’d been in surgery for about an hour when Alex finally got tired of the looks Jo kept sending his way, “What? You look like you wanna ask a question, but you’re too scared to actually do it. Spit it out.” 

“I didn’t know that story about your sister that you told Jenna,” Jo stared up at him. “But, I’m guessing that’s not the full story and you only gave her the age appropriate answer.” 

Alex took a second to collect his thoughts before saying what had really been on his mind when Jenna asked him why he wanted to be a doctor, “My whole childhood, I was surrounded by people who didn’t have a problem hurting others. My dad was abusive and neglectful, my mom was sick and most of the time didn’t even realize that she was hurting us, even my school nurse took advantage of me when I was fifteen, nowadays, she’d be arrested for statutory rape. Then there were all the foster homes and parents that treated me like crap, like I was trash, and for a long time I believed them. All of these people were people that were supposed to take care of me and keep me safe, but instead, all they did was hurt me. And I usually got the worst of it, too. I was the oldest and I needed to keep my little brother and sister safe, so I took the beatings meant for them, and I ate less food so they wouldn’t starve, and I even stole a car to get my baby sister to the hospital in time for someone to help her. She couldn’t have been more than eight months old. 

“When I got there, it was the first time I ever actually had anyone take care of me and my siblings. The doctors went above and beyond to help my sister and gave me some food and let me stay with her in her hospital room that night. They gave a crap, ya know? And it was so damn refreshing because for at least one night, I was able to see that people weren’t all bad. Then we went home and I was back in that crappy, dirty house, with my abusive dad that was too strung out on drugs to even remember my name. That’s when I decided that I would never be like him. I would never be like the people that hurt me. I wanted to help people. I wanted to save them. I wanted to get out of that hell hole of a town and make something of myself. I wanted to prove everyone wrong when they said I would never amount to anything in life. And I’ve done that. I have proved them all wrong and I’m a freaking kickass peds surgeon and I don’t hurt people back . Not anymore. Not like I used to.” 

The rest of the surgery was conducted in silence. Because what could you really say after something like that? Every time Alex opened his mouth, Jo found herself falling for him more and more, which absolutely terrified her. She was sure that if she would’ve opened her mouth after his speech, the only words that would’ve come out would've been ‘I’m in love with you.’

That was ridiculous, though. Jo couldn’t be in love with him. He was too good, too kind, too perfect. And she was all shades of messed up and complicated that he couldn’t possibly want. As much as she wanted him, she knew that she couldn’t have him. Not with Paul out there. 

But sometimes the heart wins out in the end because Jo couldn’t bring herself to put distance between her and Alex. Instead, she kept getting impossibly closer to him. It was almost as if there was this thing pulling her, beckoning her to be with him and it scared the living daylights out of her because she kept giving into that tug ever single time. 

By the time the day was over, Jo and Alex had successfully performed four surgeries and were on their way to the bar for some drinks. As they were walking, Alex stopped, “Do you want to go to Bailey’s wedding?”

“Huh?” Jo wondered aloud. 

“Bailey’s wedding is tomorrow and I have a plus one,” Alex explained. “All my friends are going with their partners and I don’t really want to be alone so what do you say, wanna go with me?”

She knew what her answer should’ve been. It should’ve been no. Because this was not how you put distance between yourself and the person you were dangerously close to just word vomiting all your feelings to. That’s why she kind of surprised herself as the following words came out of her mouth, “Yes.” 

[emachinescat]

Lest Back the Awful Door Should Spring

A Tales of Arcadia: Trollhunters Fan-Fiction

By @emachinescat

@febuwhump day 3 - imprisonment

Summary:  Sequel to my previous fic, “That I Could Fear a Door.” When Jim is arrested by the Tribunal and thrown in prison, something in him breaks again that he thought had been fixed.  Suddenly, it’s like he’s back in the Darklands, reliving the worst moments of his life that seem determined to never let him go.

Characters: Jim Lake Jr.

Words: 2,223

TW: Panic attack, Depression, PTSD

Keep reading here or on AO3!

If you enjoy, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging!

I fitted to the latch

My hand, with trembling care,

Lest back the awful door should spring,

And leave me standing there.

I moved my fingers off

As cautiously as glass,

And held my ears, and like a thief

Fled gasping from the house.

- From “Home” by Emily Dickinson

Jim wouldn’t go so far as to say that his life had gone back to normal after re-adjusting to life outside of the Darklands, but he had fallen into a new kind of rhythm that allowed him to live again.  He was more like his old self in many ways - he smiled again, for one.  He didn’t laugh as much as he used to, but when he did it was genuine, and his life and Trollmarket and school and home didn’t feel so much like they belonged to someone else anymore.  He still had nightmares, but even they were coming less frequently.  

His confidence was coming back, too - slowly.  As his thinned, weakened frame began to fill out once more and lean muscles reformed, as cuts and bruises shrunk and changed color and finally disappeared, he felt better.  More like his old self.  He didn’t actively avoid mirrors anymore.  He still struggled with feeling like he wasn’t enough, like he hadn’t been strong enough or brave enough or trusted his friends enough or fought back against Gunmar enough, but his bi-weekly chats with Nomura had started to break up those thought patterns, too.

It got harder, and he felt himself slipping back into old fears and feelings, when they could no longer deny the horrible truth that Gunmar had escaped from the Darklands, that he had followed Jim through.  A part of Jim wished that he himself had just stayed there, that his friends would have let the bridge get buried, and that he had died there.  Then his friends, his town, his whole world, wouldn't be living in the impending shadow of Gunmar’s brutal reign.

He held himself together though, mostly, because the best thing he could do for his friends and Arcadia was to work tirelessly against Gunmar’s return and fight even harder to keep the two worlds he inhabited - troll and human - safe until they could find a way to defeat the Gumm-Gumm king or send him back to hell.

He hit a very rocky patch when Draal got possessed.  When he’d refused to fight his friend in the hallway of his school, when he saw those glowing, blank eyes and heard the voice from his nightmares taunt from his friend’s mouth like poison squeezed from a stone, it wasn’t just because he didn’t want to hurt Draal that he held back.  He didn’t realize it until after the battle, after Draal had gone and he was alone in his room trying to process all that had happened, but there had been a small part of him that was hoping that his efforts to defend himself would be half-hearted enough for Draal to land a killing blow.  It wasn’t necessarily that he wanted to die.  But he didn’t think he’d be too broken up about it if he did.

But his guilt had soon been replaced with a rushing rage and determination - Gunmar had taken too much already; he would not have Draal! - and soon he was pushing forward, friends at his side, defending Arcadia and Trollmarket, searching tome after tome in Blinky’s vast collection in any ounce of spare time for a cure, anything that would save Draal.

He managed to stay strong - though if it weren’t for Toby and Claire, Blinky and Aaarrrgghh, Draal and Nomura, he would have crumbled long ago - and to fight off the demons that had been raging war against his mind and soul since the moment he’d entered the Darklands alone.  

That is, until he was arrested by the Tribunal on his way down to Trollmarket after a surprisingly fun day in detention.  The moment Usurna’s guards grabbed his arms and started hauling him away, everything that Jim had so carefully and painfully pieced back together shattered, like he was a child who had glued a broken vase back together hoping no one would notice, but someone slammed a door too hard and the glue couldn’t hold…

He didn’t even hear Claire and Toby calling after him, demanding that he be released.  He barely even registered the shocked and indignant faces of his friends in Trollmarket who watched as he was dragged between two enormous trolls, their stone-like hands completely dwarfing his arms, like he was a criminal or a traitor.

He didn’t struggle at first.  He just stared ahead.  He could only feel the pressure of the brutes’ paws around his arms, strong enough to break each one with the tiniest of twitches.  He had been here before, felt the cold, unrelenting grip, felt the toes of his sneakers drag and catch on stone.  He knew what came after.

Cages that shocked, near-starvation, pain and beatings and abuse and fear and darkness and fighting, again and again, exhausted, dying, please no, not again!

And then he was fighting, thrashing and bucking and very nearly wrenching his arms out of their sockets in the process.  If the trolls holding him had fought against him, he might not even have arms anymore.  And yet he still struggled, needing to get away, to be free, no more hands touching him, grabbing him, throwing him, no more bars or cages or prisons, please - 

And then he was airborne, having been tossed like a bag of dirty laundry by the trolls flanking him, and his armor clanged as he hit the back of a cage in Trollmarket’s prison.  Not even registering the pain in his arms or head, he lunged to his feet, metal boots slipping slightly on the slick floor of the cage, escape his only thought, his only goal, he could figure the rest out later.  

With a jarring ring of metal on metal, the cage door slammed shut in his face, and he fell back, balance askew, as the cage was pulled up by a heavy chain, almost to the ceiling, before being tied off.  He hung there, barely able to comprehend the swaying of his claustrophobic prison, only seeing the bars and still feeling the great hands on his arms and flashing between the small metal cage and a damp, cold cell with glowing orange bars.  He tried to fight off the panic, but it already had him in its crushing grip, weighing down on his chest so heavily that he fought for breath.  Why did this keep happening to him?  Didn’t they know, couldn’t they tell, that he didn’t want to be here?  

Jim curled in on himself as much as his armor would allow, resting his chin on the hard, cool plates on his knees.  He tried to ground himself, remind himself that this wasn’t the Darklands, that he wasn’t in the hands of Gunmar, and even if Usurna did plan on executing him like he’d vaguely heard her say as he was lifted higher and higher, surely she would maintain order and keep him safe throughout the trial.  Her guards wouldn’t throw him around like Gunmar’s had.  And his friends would flatten anyone who tried.

His friends…

Slowly, with great effort, Jim began the arduous, perilous climb out of his own mind, flinching at the nightmares bleeding through the cracks, reaching out their dark tendrils and trying to drag him back down.

When Jim finally opened his eyes and lifted his head, it was to see that he was alone, save for the other trolls in prison, eyeing him curiously.  Jim’s breath caught in his throat - where were they?  How could they leave him here, like this?  Alone, in a cage, caught between the present and the past and not wanting to be a part of either.  

He couldn’t know that while he had been fighting to wrest control of himself, battling the delirious fog of memories, that his friends had been forcibly herded out of the room by Usurna and Vendel - Usurna because she was determined to keep a tight hold over things until the details of the trial could be sorted, and Vendel because he knew showing favoritism would only cost the Trollhunter more in the long run.

If Jim were in his right mind, fully in this world and not limping with one foot in the Darklands, he wouldn’t have thought for a moment that his friends would have willingly abandoned him.  After all, they’d stuck by him at his very worst, when he’d all but lost himself and almost didn’t find his way back.  They’d proven they’d do anything for him, even when he messed up.  So they wouldn’t abandon him now.

But Jim wasn’t in his right mind.

He was terrified, in a limbo of things that had already happened and that he wanted nothing more than to forget and things that were happening now that had brought the past out of hiding.  He wanted nothing more than to go home, to hug his mom and curl up under his blankets with his walkie-talkie and joke around with Toby until late in the night, to read comics and daydream about Claire and watch Gun Robot.  He was angry, and hurt, and not sure what was real anymore.  The bars of the cage loomed all around him, and were they getting closer?  Were they glowing orange?

Trembling, his chest heaving with the effort it took to draw in a breath, hands and feet tingling like he’d been sitting on them all day, a high ringing in his ears and his stomach curdling like he’d just finished a glass of year-old milk, Jim folded in on himself and gave in to the darkness that was calling him, praying that sleep would come, or death, he didn’t care which at this point and it felt like he was dying anyway…

He woke up screaming.  A series of clangs rent the air and ricocheted off the walls of the underground prison as his cries startled his fellow prisoners awake, and the sounds and grumbles and growls of, Keep it down, jeez almost sent Jim into another panic attack.

But his mind was a little clearer with sleep, and he sat up from where he’d been slumped, half against the floor of the cage and half against the bars.  His pulse still seemed to rattle his bones, and his muscles were tense and sore - from being manhandled, but also from the intense desire to move, to run, even though there was nowhere to run to.

The nightmares had brought him perfect clarity.  He realized that he had never asked for any of this: not the amulet, not the role of Trollhunter, not the constant danger he put himself in, not the pain or the trauma of the Darklands, even if he had gone in of his own free will, and not this.

Well, he’d had it.  He was done.  He’d put everything on the line, gone through the unspeakable, been hurt again and again, had brought back Claire’s brother, had saved his friends and Arcadia and Trollmarket more times than he could count… and where had it gotten him?

Caged like an animal, no escape, almost certainly awaiting an unpleasant death, abandoned by his friends, left alone in the dark.

He only hesitated for a fraction of a second before removing the amulet and feeling his armor peel away, leaving him small and vulnerable.  There had been good times.  Surely his friends hadn’t meant to leave him like this, all alone.  Probably they had no choice.  And often he had enjoyed being the Trollhunter.  It had given him a sense of purpose, more friends than he’d ever had before, the knowledge that he was truly making a difference.

The moment of uncertainty retreated as quickly as it had encroached, and he flung the amulet through the bars of the cage, as far from his body as he could, both dreading and anticipating the moment when it would fly back to him. 

He’d never had any choice.

His skin was crawling as the amulet materialized in his hands once more.  He wanted to climb out of his own skin, ram himself into the bars of the cage until he somehow broke through or collapsed into a bloody pulp onto the floor.  He just needed to get away.

And so, when a disembodied voice spoke out of the amulet and introduced itself as Unkar the Unfortunate and offered to take him on an It’s a Wonderful Life-themed ride through his own life, Jim didn’t even pause to think.  It didn’t matter that the goal of this out-of-body expedition was obviously to get him to rethink his decision about being the Trollhunter.  

He would take anything he could get, anything at all, as long as it got him out of this cage.  And so he went, not expecting anything to change, fully intending to stand by his choice to stop being the Trollhunter, and truly believing that nothing he saw would convince him otherwise. 

And if he was wrong, then he would just die as the Trollhunter instead of plain old Jim Lake.  Either way, he thought miserably, he’d be afraid and alone.

He closed his eyes and gratefully let the amulet take him.

[trashfor-imagines]

How I Met Your Mother Father: Haikyū Edition! | 3

Ft. Daichi / Sugawara / Asahi / K. Ukai

Summary: How you met your husband-o! This is also the last part. Let me know if you’d like to see any dating / wedding / married life scenarios with any of the boys I featured in this HIMYMF series. I’m also not afraid to write something a lil spicy spicy dirty for these boys either, you just have to reply / message me what you want. ;) Warnings: None. Sorry for any typos. I’ll be going back and editing. :)

Part 1: Ft. Kuroo / Bokuto / Akaashi / Yaku Part 2: Ft. Oikawa / Iwaizumi / Ushijima / Tendo / Semi

-

Daichi Sawamura

A shove from behind sent you flying forward onto the ground, rolling your ankle on the way down. A cry escaped your lips from the pain and tears pricked at your eyes as you felt your knee get skimmed from the sidewalk.

A series of shouts became louder and were fast approaching. Glancing up, you watched as the person who had knocked you over scramble to his feet.

You tried to move out of the way quickly as a police officer tackled them back down. Another officer slowed to a jog, kneeling beside you while a third went to help the first officer make the arrest for petty theft from what you could tell.

“I’m Officer Daichi. Are you alright?” he asked, resting a comforting hand on your shoulder. He had sweet brown eyes and a kind smile on his face. Looking him over, you felt your mouth go a bit dry.

Hot cop.

You were today years old when you realized that men in uniform could do it for you.

“I... my ankle hurts,” you managed to say.

His eyes widened and he looked at your feet. He asked for permission before checking out your ankle. The hiss you made when he barely touched you told him it was most likely a sprain.

“Let’s get you to the hospital. Since you were injured, I’d like to get a statement for some paperwork. Is that ok?”

You nodded, allowing him to help you up. He was extremely thoughtful and careful with you as he took you to the hospital, holding your hand and making sure you didn’t place too much weight on your injury.

He stayed with you, even after he was done with his paperwork, and the two of you conversed.

Conversation with him was so easy and felt natural. He was quite enigmatic and mature, but every once in a while he’d let his silliness slip, telling jokes to make you laugh.

You talked about everything from your childhoods, your likes and dislikes, beliefs and motivations, work, and honestly no topic felt out of bounds.

When he offered to walk you home, you knew he was doing more than just his civic duty, but you couldn’t say anything other than yes.

You wanted more time with him.

“Miss (Y/N),” he spoke, taking his uniform hat off and holding it in his hands. “I don’t want to abuse my position, but could I freely call you and take you to dinner some time?”

And that was how you and Daichi Sawamura met, confidently marrying a year and a half later.

Sugawara Koshi

It was your first day of school.

Teaching that is.

You moved to Miyagi for an open teaching position for the First Grade.

Last year you were a teaching assistant, however the school didn’t have a classroom for you or a position teaching First Graders so you had to look elsewhere for work.

Invigorated by the excitement of your future here, you were all in and threw yourself into your lesson plans completing them within the first month before school began.

When you saw your classroom, you spent a two days decorating the ceiling of your classroom to reflect the solar system, hanging homemade planets and sticking glow-in-the-dark stars carefully so if you looked closely you could see the constellations.

You had 30 students, so you purchased picture frames, planning for the students to paint or draw something so you could hang them up on the blank wall. You had other art projects for the kids so they could decorate the classroom throughout the year, like making suncatchers and growing their own plant.

On the chalkboard, you wrote out the aisatsu (morning greeting) you wanted your kids to learn, as well as their homework for the first day: “Good morning. If we try, we can do it. Let’s do our best today.”

With your classroom organized how you liked and prepped for tomorrow, you headed to the teacher’s room to review your lesson plans.

The teacher’s desks were grouped in fours and personalized in their own ways. On your desk were a couple of succulents, textbooks for your classes, a cute twin bell clock, an architect desk lamp, and a framed photo of you and your parents the day you graduated from university. Your office supplies were neatly locked away in your desk drawers.

“Hello, you must be (Y/N) Sensei. Welcome,” sounded a kind voice across from you. “I’m Sugawara.”

Looking up, you watched as a man with light grey hair, hazel-brown eyes with a beauty mark under his left eye, and a gentle smile, set his things down on the desk in front of you. Quickly you stood, bowing politely before extending your hand. “It’s so nice to met you, Sugawara Sensei.”

“Just Sugawara will be fine,” he laughed, shaking your hand.

You smiled sweetly. “(Y/N) is fine for me as well.”

“First Grade as well then?” He motioned to the cluster of four desks you were a part of. “We get grouped together by year.”

You nodded, sitting down when he also made a move to sit. “That’s right. I’m really excited. I can’t wait to meet the other teachers.”

“Well between us,” he pointed at the desk beside you, “Yamasaki’s much older than us and usually sleeps at his desk.” He then pointed at the desk beside him. “And Nakamura is also older than us and I’ve noticed she doesn’t get along with other women.”

Your lips formed an O, surprised at this insider information. “Thank you for the warning.”

“We’ve got to look out for each other,” he replied, tidying a few things before picking up his briefcase. “See you tomorrow, (Y/N).”

You could hardly sleep that night, excitement refusing to let your mind rest. When morning came, you were a bit early to school, a coffee and variety of pastries in hand. Dropping your things off at your desk, you left a note on the pastry box, letting Sugawara, Yamasaki, and Nakamura know they should help themselves, before dropping a few things off at your classroom desk and heading to the school gates to line up with the rest of the teachers.

“(Y/N)! Over here.” Looking around, you spotted Sugawara waving at you, that same gentle smile on his face.

“Good morning, Sugawara.”

“Good morning. I hope you have a great first day.”

“Thank you! You as well.”

You enjoyed greeting the students as the filed in through the school gates. They were so cute with their bright yellow bucket hats and wide eyes. It was almost too easy to tell who were first graders.

“Cute, right?”

You glanced at Sugawara and matched his happy smile. “Absolutely!”

When the gates closed, Sugawara asked to walk you to your classroom. It turned out his class was right next to yours.

You went through the morning routine with your class before helping them get settled in and assigning cubby holes and desks.

“Okay students, let’s get along, ok?”

“Okay (Y/N) Sensei!” You almost swooned at how sweet they were.

“The best way to get along is to get to know each other right?”

“Right, (Y/N) Sensei!”

“Today we’re going to go outside and learn how to make friends. Then at the end of the day, you’ll vote on your favorite person to be the class representative. Does that sound good?”

“Yes, (Y/N) Sensei!”

Lining your students up, they quietly held hands and walked in a straight line as you directed them to the grassy school yard that your classroom over looked, a volleyball in hand.

Having them form a big circle with you, class began with introductions around the circle consisting of their names, age, what was a dream they had for their future, what their favorite food was, and what was their favorite hobby.

Sitting in the grass, you started a game where you rolled the volleyball to a student and you would ask them a question about themselves, then they’d roll the ball to someone else and ask them a question. This game went on for a few hours and they were having so much fun, laughing and getting along.

Glancing up at the school building, you thought about how lucky you were to have such a sweet and well behaved class. A figure in a window caught your eye. It was Sugawara. He had opened the window and was leaning against the sill, grinning down at you.

He made a gesture down to you and your class, as if asking “What are you doing?” You bit your bottom lip as you smiled, throwing your hands up and shrugging back at him. Shaking his head, he ducked back inside his classroom, the smile never leaving his face.

Soon, the class went back inside and had lunch. Nap time was after that. Finally at the end of the day, you had them draw pictures you could frame and hang on the wall, and held a class election.

When school was over, you reminded them to do their history book reading for tomorrow and said goodbye to each student individually as they left the classroom, allowing them to hug your legs and say goodbye while you gave them a gentle pat on the head and told each one they did great today.

Leaning against the door frame, you sighed softly, smiling as the last of them disappeared.

“They’re great aren’t they?”

Glancing over your shoulder, you smiled as Sugawara approached you, leaning on the door frame opposite you, the toes of your shoes touching. “They really are.”

It was the end of your first week and the day ended the same, with each student hugging you goodbye and you telling them they did great. And just like every day this week, Sugawara leaned on your classroom’s door frame and chatted with you.

“You really have a special way with them.”

“Yeah?” You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“It’s true. Even the other first grade students have started whispering about you.”

“W-What? Really?"

He began to list off the whispers he’s heard. “(Y/N) Sensei’s so kind. (Y/N) Sensei’s so fun. (Y/N) Sensei’s cool. (Y/N) Sensei makes me feel good. (Y/N) Sensei’s the best.” He paused, glancing up and meeting your eyes, “(Y/N) Sensei’s beautiful.”

Your heart skipped a beat, a faint blush staining your cheeks. “Oh.”

“I’m inclined to agree with our students,” his voice dropping low so no one could overhear.

And that’s how you met Sugawara and began dating, marrying two years later.

Asahi Azumane

“Who’s that guy?” you asked your friend who was the project manager running this photoshoot. You adjusted the settings on your camera, eyes dancing between the numbers you were programming and the man in question.

He was insanely tall and physical build was quite intimidating. You wondered if he was a delinquent in school as you snapped a series of test photos, using him as your subject.

“Asahi Azumane. He’s the apparel designer. He created the line you’re shooting today,” she responded, barely glancing up from her phone. “And don’t even think about it.”

“What? Are you worried about me? Is he a bad boy?” you asked, wiggling your brows at her in jest.

She paused and looked you in the eye seriously, before bursting into a loud fit of laughter and walking away. “Let’s get this started already!”

An irritated expression settled onto your features before you cast Asahi another glance, snapping a few more candid photographs of him.

The shoot was long. Drama with the models. You weren’t concerned though. Your rate was hourly and they were paying you big yen for this spread. No, you were more concerned with the tall babe hanging out at the snack table.

Adjusting your camera strap like you were wearing a crossbody purse, you moseyed over to the refreshments, picking up an assortment of things before standing next to the man casually.

“So you designed this line?” you asked. You almost dropped your plate when he jumped in surprise.

“Aha... Sorry, just, you’re asking me?” He smiled awkwardly, clearly embarrassed of his reaction.

You looked at him incredulously, before laughing, gently bumping your hip against the spot just below his own. Good grief he was so much taller than you. He was absolutely your type.

“Yeah. I don’t usually get to talk to the designers when I do these types of shoots. It’s usually an assistant, project manager, or a marketing rep, so this is a really cool moment for me.”

He smiled with more confidence, relaxing visibly.

“So... Tell me about what your vision for this whole line is.”

Just as he became fully confident and the two of you had finally gotten the conversation flowing freely, it had been thirty minutes and it was time to wrap up. You kept in mind your conversation with Asahi and used your knowledge and skillset to capture what it was he envisioned.

Unfortunately, you didn’t get to speak to him again.

You didn’t reach out to your friend to bother her about Asahi; you just weren’t that type of girl. Instead you resigned yourself to sighing thoughtfully as you daydreamed about him every once in a while, staring at the photos you’d taken of him in secret.

It was a week after the shoot when your friend called you to meet at her office to pick up your check. You were wondering if you should dress to embarrass her or not when you realized that you might run into Asahi in the same building. Fashionable it was; you even added heels.

You walked confidently into your friend’s office building, slipping into the elevator and pressing the button for her floor.

Glancing up as the elevator sounded, you sighed - someone was just getting on. You wore a bored expression as the doors opened, but the person standing there immediately changed your attitude.

He looked at you with realization and smiled as he stepped in. “Miss Photographer,” he spoke, his voice friendly and kind.

“Mr. Designer,” you greeted cheekily.

“It’s good to see you again.” He pressed for the floor above your destination. “I saw the photos you submitted. I really loved them. The pictures were exactly what I was hoping for. And I heard marketing is really impressed with your work. I might have overheard them tell the project manager she should hire you again.”

“I think you should give yourself more credit,” you spoke, leaning your head back against the elevator wall. “I wouldn’t have changed my approach if I hadn’t spoken to you.”

Asahi blushed and the two of you started to banter, but you were an observant person and you almost wondered if this man realized he was flirting back with you.

He gravitated closer to you, also leaning against the wall beside you. You watched from the corner of your eyes as he shifted closer and closer before his arm finally touched your own.

Bingo.

The elevator bell pinged your stop and you quickly pulled a business card from your purse and slipped it into his front pants pocket bravely.

“Call me and ask me out, okay? Or I’ll come down here looking for you,” you teased, walking backwards out of the elevator.

“W-What?” he floundered, blushing as he watched you with wide eyes.

You sent him a wink, “Don’t let me wait too long, okay?”

The doors closed and you were absolutely pleased with yourself.

And that’s how you met Asahi Azumane, going on a date two days later and marrying three years after, but this time, you didn’t have to ask.

Ukai Keishin

“Excuse me, do you have-”

“We’re out,” was the dull and bored cut off reply from the employee, his feet propped up on the counter and his face hidden by the newspaper he was reading.

Are you kidding me? Aha!

You snatched the bandaids and alcohol wipes off the shelf, walking up and setting the items on the counter. Your voice was monotone as you spoke, “Found it. Thanks for your help.”

He lowered his newspaper to peek at you before bursting out in large gestures, scrambling to his feet. “Is, uh, is this it for you?” It was almost cute how he was trying to be cool.

“A pack of Cherry cigarettes,” you replied, pulling out your coin purse.

“You know... it’s a bad habit,” he said, grabbing a pack and placing it on the counter.

“Says the man who reeks of smoke.”

“Touché,” he replied, staring at the counter and realizing he definitely messed up his shot.

With a sigh, you brushed your hair behind your ear, “They’re not for me.”

“Oh...” He tried to peek at you inconspicuously. “Boyfriend?”

“If you must know, they’re for my father.”

“Oh!” he visibly perked up at that. You had to restrain yourself from laughing at him.

“So what’s my total?” you asked when he hadn’t said anything for a while.

“Right. It’s 950¥.”

“Thank you,” you replied, pulling out some coins and bills.

“Keishin! Keishin, is that a young woman I hear?” a voice from the back room called out. There was some shuffling of footsteps and the man behind the counter visibly stiffened. “Keishin! Is she single?”

“Mom! Please!” he yelled back.

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh, but you couldn’t stop your lips from stretching into a smile.

“Keishin! Don’t yell!” An older woman poked her head out, her eyes landing on you, “She’s beautiful!” She quickly beelined to you around the counter, bowing deeply to you.

“Oh... thank... you,” you froze, unsure of what was happening. You glanced at the man behind the counter - Keishin, you assumed - who looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

“Young miss, my son looks rough, but he’s really a good man. He’s not the smartest, but he’s very strong and has a good heart. He’ll treat his future wife very good. Please consider him.” She stayed bowed and it was getting extremely uncomfortable.

He leaned over the counter and whispered, “She won’t get up unless you give her an answer. Sorry about this.”

You observed the way he looked at his mother and it struck a heartstring. He didn’t look mad or annoyed, or anything of the sort. You could just see that he loved his mother very much.

Turning back to older woman before you, you sighed softly, resigned, and bowed to her in return. “Ma’am, I will consider him.”

The two of them looked up at you in shock.

“WAIT YOU WILL?!”

And that’s how you met Ukai Keishin, marrying exactly one year later.