#which was a strange choice when half the group wasn’t allowed to walk but i digress

[jinglejanglemornings]

LMAOOOO NEDA is union busting and replacing the hotline workers with AI. hell world but this is so funny to me sorry i’ve been a NEDA hater for years

[minty-mumbles]

Whumptober Day 3: “Make it stop”

TW: Blood and injury, medical aid without painkillers, restraints, unreliable narrator (kind of)

A/N: Yeah I know it's the 5th and this is late. I forgot I was doing whumptober to be totally honest, I'm so sorry lol

(Read on AO3)

~~~

Let it be known that Wind hated Wild’s era. He really did. 

Wind hated Wild’s stupid era because it had stupid moblins who had stupid bomb barrels that they liked to pick up and throw. 

To be frank, Wind was used to explosions. Many members of their group didn’t hesitate to use bombs for their own benefit. But the heroes’ habit of exploding things was only fun and exciting when it was them who were the ones doing the exploding. When it was a moblin in Wild’s era with a bomb barrel, it was decidedly less fun.

Fuck.

Wind winced as he was jostled slightly, the movement sending shooting pain through his back

Damn Wild’s era. Damn it all to Demise. 

Wind was jostled again, and a strangled wheeze forced itself from his mouth. Distantly, Wind could hear the heavy drawl of Twilight’s accent. The rancher was probably apologizing. 

Wind hummed in acknowledgment, but didn’t pick his head up from the shoulder it was resting on. He tightened his hold around Twilight’s neck the best he could without strangling him. As hard as he tried, though, it was difficult to keep a grip on someone when you were bleeding out. Twilight’s arms hooked under Wind’s legs were really the only thing keeping Wind from falling to the ground at this point.

Every step Twilight took was agony, making what was left of his tunic rub against the open wounds on his back. They'd been walking for at least ten minutes now, and Wind’s world had narrowed down to the repetitive movement and corresponding spikes of pain that came with it. 

He was broken out of his daze when Twilight's gate slowed down. Wind lifted his head ever so slightly, and found that they had arrived at their destination.

A stable. Wind couldn't remember which one it was.

Wind barely had time to send up a silent prayer of thanks to whatever god allowed them to finally arrive before people were swarming out of the strangely shaped tent and surrounding Twilight and Wind.

Wind only tucked his head back into the crook of Twilight’s neck, trying his best to ignore both the loud conversation happening around him and the blood he could feel trickling down his back.

What he wouldn’t give to be wrapped up in a warm blanket in front of a fire right now. Maybe with a cup of hot apple cider, cuddled up against one of the other heroes. Maybe Sky…. Sky was the best at cuddles, even if he had a tendency to fall asleep and then not let you go until he woke. But Wind wouldn’t mind that right now, to be honest.

He would love to be able to cuddle someone and have their arms wrapped around his back without any pain. Wind knew that was a wistful thought. No one would be touching his back without it causing pain anytime soon. 

That stupid moblin had made sure of that. 

Wind hoped one of the other heroes had killed it in a very painful way. He scowled into Twilight's neck at the thought of what had happened, and- 

Oh, Twilight was moving again. 

Great.

Wind sighed, and fought back tears. He was in pain and this whole situation sucked, but he was not going to cry.

He wasn’t.

He just felt dizzy. His thoughts were swimming and his muscles were too weak to support himself. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t convince himself to raise his head from where it was buried in Twilight’s pelt and try to focus on his surroundings. That was probably the effect of the blood loss and shock setting in, Wind thought faintly.

But then he had no choice but to move because Twilight was releasing Wind’s legs. Wind had half a second to panic, thinking he would hit the ground. 

He didn’t. Instead, he found himself sitting on the edge of one of the beds inside the stables. Wind wondered briefly when they had moved inside, but decided it wasn’t the most important thing at the moment. 

Suddenly, hands were touching him. For a few seconds, he resisted the touch. He didn’t know who was touching him and he did not appreciate it. But he was too weak to do anything about it and found himself being maneuvered anyways. 

He found himself laying face down in the bed. His face rubbed into the fabric beneath him, and it took him a second to realize that it wasn’t the blankets he was feeling. It was a towel, spread out over the bed. 

That was good. Wind was glad someone had thought to do that. He wouldn’t want to get blood on the stable’s bed. That would be pretty rude. But! With the towel under him, Wind could take a nap here and not get any blood on the bed! That sounded like a really good idea, in Wind’s humble opinion.

And now that he wasn’t constantly being jostled around by Twilight, the pain was actually starting to fade! It still hurt, but it was a dull background pain that he could ignore. 

Wind didn’t know how long he lay there, content to drift in and out of awareness. He could hear people talking around him, and something that maybe sounded like an argument, but he didn’t worry about that. He was sure it would sort itself out without his help…

He gave a little sigh, rubbing his face against the rough fabric of the towel. It felt nice- a sensation to focus on other than the pain in his back.

He continued to drift for what felt like a long, long time. He wondered if the others had left so he could take a nap. That was nice of them… 

A touch to his neck startled Wind out of his daze. He let out a startled breath, feeling too tired to try and say anything. Fingers pressed at Wind’s neck for a moment- feeling for a pulse, Wind realized- before they withdrew.

There was more talking, and then an expectant pause. Wind said nothing. If they wanted him to talk, they were out of luck. He couldn't summon up the energy to go wading through the fog that clouded his brain to pay attention to whoever was talking to him. He couldn't summon up the energy to anything,

After a few moments of silence, the voices picked up again, and then Wind felt a touch on his back.

His torn up back which was covered in open wounds and pierced by pieces of debris 

Wind decided that he didn’t like that. He didn’t like it at all. 

Then the touch was moving and tugging something out of Wind’s skin, and Wind discovered that he did have the energy to scream and thrash, after all.

For one blissful moment, the touch was gone, and Wind was hopeful it would stay away. Then hands wrapped around his legs and his upper arms, and were pressing him down onto the bed, and Wind felt all his hope flickers away.

The torture seemed to go on forever. Every so often there would be a pause in the pain as the touch on his back drew away, and Wind would hope that it would be over. But all too soon, the touch would be back.

He couldn’t get away from it.

The hands clasped around his limbs were gentle but firm and unyielding. Wind hated that. He hated everything. Everything hurt, nothing was good, and the pain was never going to end.

There was another spike of pain from his back, like someone was digging their fingers into his existing wounds and tearing the cuts further open. Wind twisted, still trying to get away, but the hands stopped him again.

He gave a strangled grunt, his voice finally being pushed past the breaking point. He couldn’t scream anymore, but he could still move. His shoulders were still being held down by the hands pressing on his upper arms, but he could still move his arms. He reached out blindly, trying to find something to grasp onto, some bit of leverage that could get him away from this torture,

What he found instead was more fabric. Part of the towel, maybe? 

No, it felt different. 

Not caring what it might be, Wind gripped it hard, and used it to pull himself forward. To his surprise, the hands didn’t seem as prepared for this, and he was able to drag himself forward. There was a swell of noise around him that he ignored. The new fabric beneath him was soft, and the worry of staining the sheets was long gone from Wind’s mind, so he buried his head into it.

Apparently, the hands had decided Wind could stay where he had dragged himself. They didn’t shove him back to his previous position, but the torturous touch on his back returned.

Wind whimpered, not knowing what to do anymore. 

Why was this happening?

Slowly, though, something trickled into his mind. He was hyper-aware of any and all sensations that weren’t pain in hopes of finding something to latch onto, something else to focus on. Slowly, ever so slowly, Wind realized the new fabric was warm under his touch.

He sucked in a shuddery breath, and before he registered what he was doing, Wind was lifting his head up to stare straight into a familiar face.

It took his brain a few seconds to register safety and comfort at the sight, and a few seconds more to register that the face belonged to Time.

Oh.

Wind was clinging onto Time’s pants, and he’d just had his face buried in Time’s lap.

Okay. 

Wind knew in normal circumstances, he’d be embarrassed, but he didn’t care.

Time was here.

One of his brothers was here.

That meant everything would be okay, right?

Wind blinked up at Time, and the man looked down at Wind with an odd look on his face. 

Wind wanted it all to stop, and Time was good at making painful things stop. When the teasing from the other heroes got to be too much, Time would step in. When Wind had been injured before, Time had stitched him up with gentle, steady hands. When Wind had been kept up with nightmares, Time had made him a cup of tea over the campfire, and let Wind lean against him without any questions.

Time had never failed to offer comfort before.

“Time,” Wind croaked, his voice ruined, “make it stop. Please, make it stop.”

But Time didn’t help. He was looking up, away from where Wind was being pinned down by his hands. Wind thought Time’s mouth might have been moving, but he couldn’t tell what Time was saying, let alone if the old man was speaking to Wind or someone else. 

No matter what Time was saying, he wasn’t letting Wind go, so it didn’t matter. 

Time wasn’t helping Wind, it wasn't making the pain stop. 

Time was hurting him.

Wind was shaking now, unable to stop himself. He was too tired to cry, in too much pain the thrash anymore. Everything was getting worse, and no one was helping him.

It was a relief, really, when he finally slipped into blissful unconsciousness.

[alwaysmarveling]

To Be Seen

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x gn!reader

Warnings: Hints at neglect

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: All superpowers seem to have a downside to them. Invisibility is no exception.

You got your first pair of glasses when you turned seven. The black frames were a birthday present of sorts. You had your eye set on a transparent blue pair, or honestly any of the many colorful options that lined the shelves, but your mother had grabbed the black ones without a word to you and placed them on the counter. Then the two of you went home, back to the always busy house, buzzing with the sounds of your siblings’ chatter and the television that entertained your constantly preoccupied father. There was no cake, no other presents, not even a “congratulations” or a “happy birthday,” but that was okay. That was okay because you had already gotten the gift of sight.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” you whispered to yourself that night, your younger sister already sound asleep beside you while you looked up at the glow-in-the-dark shapes taped to the ceiling. The glasses turned the green fuzzy blobs into actual stars, their points clear and easily counted as you drifted off to sleep with the lenses still on. “You can see now.”

---

You found out you could make yourself invisible on the day you hit ten years old. When you woke up, the first thing you did was look at yourself in the mirror, trying to see if you looked any different from the day before, when you were nine. Double digits should mean double the change, right? But there was no change from when you weren’t in the mirror to when you were. 

At first, you thought it must’ve been a prank from your older brother, but one look in the bathroom mirror told you that this was something else. It took you about half an hour before you somehow managed to become visible again, but when you did, you walked into the kitchen to find everything the same as it was the night before. No one hung streamers around the house or left a card on the counter, but that was okay. That was okay because you had a gift.

---

On your twenty-seventh birthday, you were recruited to be an Avenger. Three years ago on that exact day, you had quit your office job and joined SHIELD, only as a trainee, but you made your way through the ranks. You had the advantage of a mastered superpower—turning invisible came useful on the countless days you wished the world would just swallow you whole—but you still had to learn to use it like an agent. You were never remarkable, never being praised as the top of your class nor critiqued as one of the worst. You were always in the middle. Always just… there.

But Fury had seen something in you, and now here you were, packing your things to move into the Avengers Tower. You honestly weren’t sure what he saw in you; no one did. There were other SHIELD agents with far more useful powers and much better combat skills, yet he had picked you and no one else, making you the third SHIELD agent to join the Avengers since Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff.

You looked around the empty apartment, scanning for something you and your imperfect vision might have missed, but saw nothing. Was that what others saw when they looked at you, thinking they had packed the whole room while you were standing right in front of them, arms waving in their face and voice begging for them to acknowledge you? No matter. Fury had told you Natasha would be picking you up at 2, meaning you had just over thirty minutes before she got here. Life moved on, and so would you.

Just like in years prior, there were no claps on the back, shiny bows, or patterned gift wrapping, but that was okay. That was okay because you had gotten the gift to protect and serve others.

---

You laid into the punching bag, twenty-eight non-stop uppercuts for your new age as of today. You brushed one hand across your forehead to interrupt the sweat droplets that ran from your hair, Bruce doing his best to praise you in the meantime.

“Good work, Y/N, yeah. Um, stronger than the ones you’ve been doing in the past. Better form too. I think.” You were sure you weren’t meant to hear his last sentence, but a roll of Natasha’s eyes next to you was enough to make you laugh it off. It wasn’t like you could blame him. Training others wasn’t his forte. You weren’t even sure if he trained himself.

Fury’s interest in you had been short-lived, it seemed. To be fair, you were lucky he recruited you in the first place and even luckier that he let you stay on the team. Still, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed in how you turned out to just be a new puppy to him. With your novelty now wearing off, you became the responsibility of people like Bruce, who never quite wanted you in the first place.

You had nothing against the gentle and kindhearted scientist, but Steve, Nat, or even Clint would’ve been much more obvious choices. Yet somehow the scientist was who Fury appointed. Maybe he was just the only one who accepted the task, the only one not bold enough to deny Fury’s orders outright. Strangely enough, Nat always showed up, but you weren’t entirely sure why, seeing as she usually sat there silently for most of it. She’d occasionally lean in to whisper something to Bruce, but she rarely said anything to you.

Much to Bruce’s—and maybe Natasha’s—relief, Tony strutted into the gym, his charisma already filling in the awkward gaps between you guys that never seemed to disappear, no matter how much time passed.

“Bruce, Nat, just the people I was looking for! It was great to see you guys at the party last night.” You pushed your glasses back up the bridge of your nose before going back to the punching bag; obviously, he was not here to speak with you. As you beat into the bag, getting lost in the rattling of the chain and the rhythm of the combinations, you thought back to last night, when you heard the Avengers’ laughter as they prepared for the gala.

-

You sat in the living room watching a movie with the tiniest but fiercest hope that someone might see you and ask you to come along. This was a party for the Avengers, after all, to celebrate the success of a mission that you had been part of. It had been up to you to cut the power and incapacitate the leader. Somehow the credit had gone to Clint, all the news stations celebrating the archer and his amazing feat. It was fine, whatever, just another chip to brush off of your shoulder—a teeny, tiny chip, really, honestly probably more of a scratch—but you thought you would’ve at least been invited to the party. Yet there you were, your posture slowly drooping as you sank into the leather sofa while your teammates gathered in the elevator to head up to the party. You had taken your phone out and opened the camera app, checking to make sure you hadn’t somehow triggered your invisibility, but, nope, you were very much there. The tears that fell were very much there.

-

“Alright, Tony, I’ll be there for Movie Night tonight, but you gotta go. I need to get back to my training duties.” It was then that Tony finally seemed to realize your presence, turning around with a surprised look on his face.

“Oh, hey, Y/N. You, um, you should come tonight too.” All of his charm was gone, the relaxed smile only hanging on by the tiniest lift of the corner of his mouth. So you did your best to reassure him with a small nod. The smile came back immediately. All was well; Tony Stark does indeed have a heart.

-

Later that night, as you sat alone on the three-person couch, you drew the blankets closer to you. The same movie you had watched last night was playing on the TV. The original plan had been to watch Jaws, but Sam was delighted to find the DVD box to Space Jam on the coffee table, insisting that he’d been wanting to watch it again and how it was such a coincidence it was already out. He wasn’t saying that last night when you asked if anyone wanted to watch it with you, but at least you weren’t watching it alone this time. You looked around at the small groups the Avengers had formed on the other couches, some of them even sitting on the floor—there wasn’t enough space, you guessed—before letting out a sigh. There were no party hats or festive noisemakers, but that was okay. That was okay because… A tap on your knee brought you back to the present moment. You looked down to find the outstretched arm of a familiar redhead, a bowl of popcorn in her hand.

There was no time for wallowing in self-pity. That was okay. You were okay.

---

The harsh sunlight woke you up in time for your thirtieth birthday. Or maybe it was the stiff and lumpy mattress that did it. Either way, you were hoping you’d be able to sleep through it. The rational side of you knew that wasn’t possible—what with being on the run from the US government and all—but one can always hope, right?

You’d stuck with Natasha during the Avengers’ split, pushing for the team to stay together even though you’d never really been part of the team. It wasn’t about you though; you’d seen the amazing things the Avengers could do when they were together. The world needed them.

Well, that line of thinking got you here, in a small cabin in the woods with all the Avengers who had followed Steve, Natasha joining the group later. Happy birthday to you. Although to be fair, it wasn’t like any of your past birthdays had been much better. Once your childish naivety had faded away (which probably took much longer than it should have), the day became something you dreaded, something you hoped each year you would forget about but never quite could. This time, though, you had a small plan. It was going to be different this year.

-

Your knees cracked as you stood, announcing to no one in particular that you were heading off to bed. Rather than heading straight down the hall to your room, though, you cut through the kitchen and grabbed a few things.

Your shoulders dropped slightly as you closed the door, and you allowed yourself to study the contents of your hands: a lighter, candle, and one of the leftover store-bought cupcakes from Steve’s birthday. The cupcakes weren’t great, but no one had the time, energy, or ingredients to make a cake, and, let’s be honest, most of the people here couldn’t bake anyways. Plus, this one had frosting in your favorite color, so you couldn’t complain, especially since it was more than you’d had for your birthday since you could remember.

The wooden bed frame creaked as you shifted to place the candle in the frosting and light it. For the first time that day, you were grateful the windows had no curtains, as they allowed you to see the stars that dotted the sky.

“Happy birthday,” you murmured to yourself, your eyes never leaving the constellations, instead darting around to watch in awe as more and more of the twinkling lights showed up the longer you cared to look.

Just as you tore your eyes away to blow out the candle, a knock rang out against the door. Were you guys spotted? Did you have to leave? You immediately ran to open the door, running through a list of things you’d have to pack the second you heard the order. You weren’t exactly surprised to see Nat standing outside your door, but you were surprised to see her holding a small rectangular box and a bottle of champagne.

“Hey, um, sorry to interrupt.” Your cheeks immediately heated up when you noticed her eyes dart to the cupcake still in your hand. You must’ve forgotten to put it down in your rush to open the door. At least the candle’s flame had gone out. “I get it if you don’t want to celebrate with anyone, but I figured you still deserve a treat on your special day.”

Natasha’s brows furrowed as your head tilted slightly.

“What special day?”

“Um, well, isn’t it your birthday?” You nodded, still not quite understanding what she was asking. Not to mention, the spy’s continued use of filler words surprised you. Sure, the two of you hadn’t interacted with each other much, but a lack of familiarity didn’t usually make her this uneasy. Were you really that invisible that she felt uncomfortable around you despite having known you for three years? But you couldn’t dwell on it with Nat speaking again, her voice pulling you out of your thoughts. “And, um, I noticed the only alcohol you drink is champagne, so… this is for you.”

You stepped back slightly as she nudged the objects towards you, but the spy misunderstood you, taking your surprise as an invitation to enter the room. Before you knew it, you were asking her to sit next to you on the mattress. It wasn’t like you had much of a choice, though; keeping her standing would be rude, and there were no chairs in your room. The two of you sat at least a foot apart, both of your spines straight and neither of you quite meeting the eyes of the other.

“So, um, do you want to open the present first or have your cupcake? Or we can open the champagne if you want.”

“This is a present?” You eyed the brown box she held in her hand. You weren’t sure what it could be. Based on its size, maybe a watch or a pocket knife? But Natasha laughed, simply pushing the box towards you.

“Of course it’s a present. Open it!” So you set the cupcake down on the unstable bedside table, making sure the dessert wouldn’t fall due to the furniture having one leg shorter than the rest. You cast one last glance at Natasha, who gave you a reassuring yet pointed nod, and with that, you lifted the cover. 

It took everything in you to prevent the tears springing in your eyes from overflowing. You lifted the goggles with shaking hands. You had to touch them to make sure they were real, to make sure this wasn’t some sick and twisted dream your brain had forced on you to make you remember how disappointing your past birthdays had been.

“Do you like it?” The blonde asked you softly, her lower lip caught in between her teeth. Had you been thinking clearly, you would’ve been surprised at how apprehensive she sounded, how unsure she was. “I thought it could be something you might want to wear on missions. I noticed your other ones kept slipping down or breaking, and um…” Both of you became antsier as Natasha rambled on, you at how she was being more intimate with you than anyone ever had, and she at how she just couldn’t seem to stop talking despite the fact that, in her opinion, she was digging herself into an increasingly deeper hole. “It’s a lot more sturdy, and there are some other features that I think you’ll appreciate. I had Tony and Bruce make it for you… before, you know, this whole thing happened. And I brought it with me when I left.”

The frames reminded you much of the glasses you had first wanted as a kid, the ones your mother had looked past in favor of the plain black ones. They matched your combat suit, though, even having a small carving of your symbol on the side. You nodded as you choked down a sob, forcing yourself to meet the former assassin’s gaze to try to thank her properly.

“I love it, Natasha. Thank you so much. I- it’s… it’s amazing.” Nat dipped her head as if to nod, but you didn’t miss the way her cheeks flushed red or how a hint of her characteristic smirk appeared.

“Of course. It’s the least I could do.” Your eyes returned to the glasses in your hand. You’d try them out the second Natasha left. “So, cake now?”

“Yes, right, of course,” you nodded immediately, shaking your head at how you had managed to forget about the one thing you had planned to do for your birthday. Before you could reach for the frosted dessert, Natasha relit the candle and handed the cupcake to you as she began to sing “Happy Birthday.” When she reached the last note, you could hold it in no longer, and all the tears immediately began to flow.

“Oh my god, Y/N, I’m so sorry. Is my singing really that bad?” The redhead wasn’t sure whether to pull you closer or move away as she ran a hand through her hair, but she felt slightly comforted when she noticed you shaking your head.

“No, no, it’s just…” Natasha hesitantly began to rub your back in an effort to calm your sobs, “No one’s ever sang that for me before.”

“Ever?” She winced slightly at how her voice cracked, betraying her emotions to you despite her attempts to remain composed.

“Well, there used to be a video of it from my third birthday, but… I was three. So I don’t really remember it.” Natasha thought back to the many birthday celebrations the team had held, none of them being for you. The door to your room was always closed on your birthday. She’d always thought you had just gone out with friends and family, people outside of the Avengers, and who was she to get in the way of you and those you loved? But it had been the opposite. You had been hiding away in your room, and she hadn’t helped matters at all by waiting for three years to do anything. If only she’d gained the courage earlier, she could’ve helped ease your pain much sooner.

But all you saw through your tears was the way her head was cocked to the side, her spy training paying off as you couldn’t even begin to predict what she might be thinking. Your confusion slowed your tears somewhat, but that didn’t last for long as your mind shifted gears. You were ever the fool for sharing something so vulnerable with someone you barely knew.

So it was much to your surprise when Natasha finally reached her hand toward you, using her thumb to brush off the last few tears that made their way down your cheeks.

“You’ve never been invisible to me, Y/N. I see you. Always.” And with that, without responding, you turned away from her with a sniff to blow out the candle. “What’d you wish for?” the spy asked lightly, hoping the joke would help lift your mood.

“Nothing. This was more than I could’ve ever asked for.” Nat nodded slowly, keeping her eyes on you as she reached to take out the candle. Your eyes remained on the cupcake as if it would be ripped away from you if you turned away for a second. With her hand returned to your back, you began to dig into the cupcake, your eyes closing as you savored the taste. A cupcake just for you, on your birthday. Sure, it was a leftover cupcake, the frosting a bit too sweet and the cake itself dry and somewhat stale, but that didn’t matter. It was still the first in thirty years. 

-

That night, you lay in bed with the stars overhead, a smile on your face as you thought about the day’s events, your best birthday ever.

And maybe it was naive of you to believe what Natasha had told you earlier that day—it wasn’t like the thought hadn’t crossed your mind several times in the few hours since she told you that—but then you thought about the champagne and the glasses she’d given you. You thought about the way she’d examined your apartment with you one last time before she brought you to the Avengers Tower, about the way she gave you an encouraging smile during training when you became exhausted with Bruce’s cluelessness, about the way she’d shared her popcorn on movie nights with you and only you.

And in the room next to you, Natasha thought about your confusion, your tears, and the way desperation, hope, and amazement filled your face when you looked at her right before you blew out the candle. It was then that she made a vow to herself, to show you that you’d never be invisible, especially not to her.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” she whispered, “You are seen.”

-----

🏷 : @vancityfire13 @007giu

[michelangelinden]

Oh gosh I want all of the autumn prompts, but 19 for Willex?

Hello my love!! Here is 19. You stayed with me to hand out candy but actually just to make out and we keep being interrupted by the doorbell for you!!

First prompt answered and it's immediately almost 2k words long, hot damn.

Willex. 1.9k words. Rated G. (there's a lot of kissing, beware)

“Have a good night,” Alex called after the group, throwing a short wave at the parents waiting for their children at the edge of the road. The children hopped down the step and made their way back to the road, the bedsheet one of the was wearing as a ghost costume billowing as he ran.

Alex sighed contently as he closed the door. The candy bowl was heavy in his hands but it got a little bit lighter with every child that he held it out to. They had a good selection of candy this year, some chocolate, Hershey’s kisses this year, some lollies, toffee—if he was a child on the hunt for candy he would’ve been happy to choose something out of this bowl.

But he was content with staying in tonight, what with the chilly weather and also the fact that he was seventeen, he’d probably get some strange looks from his neighbors. His parents were out for the night, staying at his grandparents, and he was on babysitting duty. He would usually be a bit annoyed by that, but because it was Halloween and his sister was thirteen and had a bunch of friends, she wasn’t even here half the evening. So far his evening had consisted of sitting on the couch, watching Hocus Pocus on TV, and stealing candy from the bowl, between opening the door for trick-or-treating children. He just had to make sure his sister was back by 9pm and she was only allowed to have one of her friends sleeping over (which he had argued down from two, taking care of two girls on a sugar rush was going to be hard enough). That was a good deal. He was having fun, no complaints.

He didn’t make it halfway towards the couch before the doorbell rang again. He turned and walked back. This time there was no excited whispering behind the door, and when he opened it, ears ready to receive his fifth round of, “TRICK OR TREAT!” that would leave his ears ringing, he didn’t reveal four ten year old Ghostbusters with their older brother, but Willie, soft smile on his face and a bag over their shoulder.

“Trick or treat,” they said jokily.

“Oh,” Alex said in response. “Hi.” Alex paused, taking in the ripped jeans, sweater, vans combo Willie wore almost every day in Fall. “You’re not wearing a costume.”

Willie scoffed. “This is my costume,” he argued, looking down at himself. “Hot skater boy, obviously. I could be dead.”

“Okay,” Alex agreed with a little chuckle. He was just about to hold the bowl out for Willie when they continued speaking.

“No, I’m not trick-or-treating. The boys told me you’re babysitting because your parents aren’t home and I wanted to keep you company.”

“Oh,” Alex repeated, feeling that familiar warmth spreading in his chest. “That’s nice, thanks!” He stepped to the side. “Come in. Candy?” He finally held the bowl out to Willie.

“Yes please.” Willie passed Alex into the house but stopped to pick out a Hershey’s Kiss, unwrapping it, and popping it into their mouth immediately.

“Good choice,” Alex commented as he closed the door again.

“Yes, one kiss for me and one for you.”

“Hm?” As soon as Alex turned back to face them, Willie leaned up on their tip toes to kiss Alex over the candy bowl. It was short, just a little smooch, Reggie would call it, but it was enough to get Alex’s head to spin as soon as Willie leaned back. He blinked to get his brain starting again.

“Kiss for you,” Willie repeated innocently.

“You coward,” Alex muttered, “using a surprise attack.” He set the candy bowl on top of the hallway dresser before he stepped into Willie’s space again. Willie, probably already guessing what Alex’s plan was, started grinning and lifted his hands to Alex’s shoulders. Alex gently grabbed Willie by the hips and pulled them closer, so he could kiss him properly. This was more than just a little smooch,a proper kiss, a fair kiss, that left both their heads spinning. “That’s how you do it.”

Willie chuckled. “You’re right, how dare I.” They smiled at each other. Then Willie patted Alex’s cheek. “Let’s go, my bag is heavy.”

“What did you bring?” Alex asked as he stepped away. He grabbed the bowl from the dresser, shooting a quick glance into the mirror above to check his appearance, then lead the way to the living, running a hand through his hair.

“Just my stuff stuff, uh, in case we decide I stay over,” Willie explained, quieter than usually.

Alex stopped and turned back to them. They hadn’t stayed over at Alex’s place before, only ever at Willie’s. And that not since they had actually started dating a couple of weeks ago. It shouldn’t have felt like as much of a step as it did to Alex. But Willie’s hesitation to tell him about the contents of the bag gave Alex the impression that maybe they were thinking the same.

Well. His parents had allowed Annika to have a friend over for the night. It was only fair tat Alex also had a friend to stay. Friend as a very loose term. It wasn’t like his parents were here to check.

“I’d love that,” Alex said earnestly.

“Okay cool,” Willie responded, then, a little awkwardly, ducked past Alex towards the living room. He caught sight of the TV screen, still playing Alex’s movie on very low volume, and he immediately got distracted by it. “Man, Hocus Pocus, I love that movie.”

“Me too!” Alex agreed. “So sad they’re playing it when so many people are out.”

“More for us,” Willie said, letting themselves drop down on the couch.

“That’s not—that’s not how television works,” Alex muttered with a frown. He set the bowl onto the coffee table then joined Willie on the couch.

“I don’t care, I love it. I’ve watched it so often already.” Willie grabbed another Hershey’s Kiss from the bowl.

“Can you grab me one too?” Alex asked.

Willie turned to him with their eyebrows raised. “A kiss for you?”

Alex blushed. Then nodded.

“Which one? Mine or Hershey’s”

Alex hesitated for a moment, then decided to go along with Willie’s boldness. “Both.”

Willie picked a second Hershey’s Kiss and handed it to Alex. They ate them simultaneously, letting the chocolate melt on their tongues. Willie collected the foil from the candy and placed it next to the bowl, then leaned back, took Alex’s face, and kissed him square on the mouth.

“Good choice,” they mirrored Alex’s response from earlier.

Alex, stunned yet again but recovering quicker than before, placed a hand at Willie’s waist and pulled him back in. Willie went easily, their lips connecting again, this time in more than a little smooch, more than a kiss even, Alex wants to say. What started rushed turned slow and soft, hushed breaths and little giggles against each other’s lips before either of them pressed them together again.

Kissing Willie was always exciting to Alex, probably always would be, but he felt that it was especially exhilarating when it was happening on the couch in his own living room, not on Willie’s bed, or in Julie’s garage. Maybe it was the knowledge that his parents wouldn’t approve one bit if they knew about it. Or the fact that Willie had come over simply because they wanted to keep Alex company. Whatever it was, it made Alex feel especially good, and the way Willie responded to him made him notice that it seemed to transfer into the kiss.

Willie’s hand just began traveling down Alex’s throat, when the doorbell rang, getting them to shrink apart. They both let out a giggle.

“I’ll get it,” Alex said, removing himself from Willie and getting up. He picked up the bowl, shot one almost longing glance at Willie left on the couch, then made his way to the door.

“TRICK OR TREAT!” the group shouted at him. He recognized a cowboy, a Lord of Rings elf, very creative, and a Luke Skywalker costume. Alex immediately got reminded of the year he went out with Reggie, Luke, and Bobby, and Luke and Reggie were both dressed as Luke Skywalker, resulting in them arguing about who had the more realistic costume. Alex made them all promise to coordinate their costumes the years to follow, so it wouldn’t happen again.

The kids picked their candy and waved their goodbyes. He smiled at them then sent them off on their way.

When he got back to the couch, Willie had turned to lean with their back against the armrest, legs stretched out across the seat.

“Glad to see you’re getting comfortable,” Alex said fondly. He set the bowl down and moved to sit at the other end of the couch, but Willie pulled his legs to his chest and nodded at the free space. Alex sat down closer to them and Willie lifted their legs over Alex’s lap. Without hesitation, Alex placed his hands on their shins.

“Now I’m comfortable.”

“Good thing I’m gonna have to get up again in like three minutes.”

“Better make them worth it then,” Willie said smugly. He tugged at the side of Alex’s sweater, getting him to lean closer. Alex didn’t give them the immediate satisfaction.

“You’re not even watching the movie,” he pointed out with a smirk.

“I won’t miss anything, I didn’t even know they were showing it.”

“So you just come here to make out with me between trick-or-treating breaks?”

  “Maybe,” Willie responded easily. “Also for the candy. Although you’re much sweeter.”

“Gross,” Alex muttered, but finally gave in. Willie smiled against his lips when he kissed him again. They pulled him closer with one hand in his sweater, tilting their head for a better angle. Alex let himself be pulled, sighing when Willie slipped one hand into his hair. He placed his own hands at Willie’s sides, holding them gently while he leaned over them.

“Glad to see my plan is working out,” Willie whispered. The words tickled on Alex’s bottom lip, so he kissed them onto Willie’s.

“Shut up,” Alex responded, their mouths barely an inch apart. Willie just giggled.

And then the doorbell rang again.

“I haven’t gotten my three minutes yet,” Willie whined.

“That’s what you signed up for,” Alex responded with a chuckle.

Willie huffed and removed his hand from Alex to let him move away. Upon a second glance though, he lifted it again to fix his hair.

“Sorry about that, you gotta look presentable,” they said sheepishly.

Alex couldn’t help but chuckle. His flushed cheeks, his wrinkled sweater, the time it took him to get to the door—if the children were any older than they were, it wouldn’t take long to figure out what he was up to, even if his hair looked alright.

“Do not apologize,” he assured them. Willie smiled up at him.

The doorbell rang again.

Alex slipped away from the couch, and, bowl in hand, skipped back to the door, calling, “on my wa-ay,” in a sign-song voice. He heard Willie giggle from the couch as he opened the door and he felt the excitement in himself, ready to continue where they left off, bubble inside his chest.

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[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

All Men Have Limits - II

Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne

Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.

Word Count: 4,300+

Previously on...

When Y/N arrived at the master bedroom, she was surprised to find the door slightly ajar. She knocked always and found Bruce turning to face her, shirtless and only in his boxer briefs.

Bruce seemed subtly surprised to find Y/N standing in his doorway and not Alfred. But he didn’t seem to be embarrassed by the state Y/N found him in. 

Along with the first aid kit, Y/N had grabbed two ice packs from the freezer.

“I’m fine,” Bruce told her before she could even offer to help him.

“You can either deal with me or you can deal with Alfred,” she threatened. 

“Your choice,” she added when she saw how serious he took her warning.

Bruce’s heavy sigh was the only answer she’d get.

“Come on,” Y/N nudged her head toward his en-suite bathroom that was probably twice the size of most people’s studio apartments.

She pointed to one of the steps that led up to the giant bathtub, silently instructing him to sit.

“Put these on your ribs,” Y/N instructed as she handed him the ice packs.

To her surprise, Bruce did as she asked.

“I don’t need stitches,” he mumbled as he watched her open the first aid kit.

“I know,” she answered. “Which is lucky for you, because I have no idea how to stitch people up.” 

She dabbed some cotton in hydrogen peroxide. “But…you still need to clean those cuts or they’ll take longer to heal and probably scar.”

Once again, Y/N was surprised to see that Bruce did as she said. He didn’t complain or refuse her assistance – just sat there silently. The man didn’t even flinch and Y/N knew she was causing his injuries to sting.

“What happened tonight that has you so upset?” Y/N finally asked after silently caring for him for a few minutes.

“What makes you think I’m upset?”

She sighed softly. “I’ll be the first to admit that you’re nearly impossible to read. But clearly something happened that caused you to storm out of the cave like you did.”

Bruce didn’t respond.

“Was it them?” Y/N asked carefully. “The Court?"

For a moment, she thought he’d ignore that question too.

“They know I’m protecting you. Well…they know that Batman is protecting you.”

Y/N shrugged. “We knew they were gonna figure it out eventually.”

Bruce remained silent.

“Did they send the Talons after you?”

From his expression, Y/N knew she was right.

The Talons were a group of lethal assassins that did all of the dirty work for The Court of Owls. They were highly trained, almost entirely undetectable, and a force to be reckoned with. Probably only second to the League of Assassins when it came to deadliness.

“That’s why Jason was with you,” Y/N pointed out. “You needed backup.”

“We had it under control,” was all Bruce said.

“I know you were already going after The Court,” Y/N told him gently. “And you need my help.” She hesitated and took in a shaky breath, “But thank you for looking out for me.”

“What was your plan?” Bruce asked.

“What do you mean?”

“When I came to you and told you that you’d been made, you said that you knew. What was your plan?”

“Run. And keep running. You and I both know I’m hopeless when it comes to an actual fight.” She shrugged. “My plan was to keep working on exposing them and stay alive long enough to see it through.”

Y/N waited for some sort of lecture, for Bruce to tell her that it was a stupid plan and she had been sloppy. She waited to feel patronized and belittled.

But Bruce just stared at her.

“What?” She challenged.

“I wish you would prioritize your life a bit more.”

She moved back a little from cleaning his cuts and snorted. “What? Like you?” 

Then she shook her head and went back to cleaning his cuts. “You’re so not the person to be lecturing about self-preservation, Bruce.”

Then Bruce surprised them both.

He grabbed Y/N by the back of her neck and brought her down to him before his lips collided with hers.

She dropped all the medical supplies in her hand from the shock of it all. But then she was cupping his face and kissing him back.

Next thing she knew, Bruce had steered her body so she was straddling his lap.

It had been so long since that night that Y/N had almost forgotten what his lips felt like. Or how his hands touched her so tenderly, but his intent was always clear and effortlessly confident.

But then Y/N’s leg accidentally collided with one of Bruce’s bruised ribs.

It didn’t deter him. He had every intention of ignoring it.

But Y/N felt his body tense in pain and she swore she felt the vibrations of the quietest pained moan from him. 

She could’ve imagined it, but she wasn’t going to continue knowing that she had the ability to accidentally hurt him.  

But it was also her saving grace. Because Y/N shouldn’t be doing this. 

Y/N reluctantly pulled away from the kiss. Bruce allowed the movement, but his grip on her waist and neck didn’t ease in the slightest.

“You should rest,” she whispered to him.

Then she shoved herself away from him and awkwardly stepped backwards as if she was desperately trying to put space between them.

“Umm…make sure you keep that ice on your ribs,” she told him awkwardly, half turned away from him.

Bruce opened his mouth to stop her, but no words came out. 

The next second, she bolted out of the bathroom and then his master suite.

Her mind was racing with so many thoughts that Y/N didn’t notice Dick catching her race into her own bedroom.

Dick looked between Y/N’s closed door and the direction of Bruce’s room, putting it all together. 

—————

After the close call with the Talons, Bruce had all hands on deck. Even Jason – who usually did his own thing and had separated himself from family matters – had been brought into the fold. Which meant he was spending way more time around the manor.

Y/N knew things were getting serious.

Bruce wasn’t exactly keeping her in the dark. But he also wasn’t being forthcoming with information.

Y/N didn’t know if he was trying to shield her in some way…or if he was just doing business as usual and taking control, not allowing anyone in until he thought it was absolutely necessary.

Either way, through the chaos of it all, Y/N realized Dick hadn’t acted as her shadow in almost a week.

It wasn’t until Jason decided to bother Y/N that she realized what had changed.

Jason leaned backwards against the console Y/N was working on so she was forced to face him. He crossed his arms with a smirk and looked down at her.

“So, you and B, huh?”

“Get off my equipment,” she warned him darkly without even glancing at him.

But inside, she was internally freaking out. 

Y/N made a point to keep as many facts about her life a secret. And her sex life? That was top priority when it came to her privacy. This was worst case scenario.

But also, how the hell did he figure that out?

Jason shrugged, but did as she asked and took a step away from the console. “He didn’t say anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Y/N finally looked up him. “Please tell me what I have to do to get you to leave me the fuck alone.”

Jason smiled and whistled. “I think I like you.”

“The feeling’s not mutual,” she mumbled as she began typing again.

“Jason, leave her alone.”

Y/N turned to see Dick walking into the cave.

Jason held up his hands in surrender and gave his brother an innocent face. “I was just trying to be polite to our guest, Richard.”

“I’m sure you were,” Dick side eyed him.

Jason then turned to Y/N and put on his Red Hood helmet. “I look forward to having more of these titillating conversations, Y/N.” Then he turned to Dick. “I’m heading out on patrol.”

He mounted his motorcycle and raced out of the cave, leaving Dick and Y/N alone for the first time in awhile.

“No patrol for you tonight?” Y/N asked him slowly.

“They’ve got it covered.”

She just nodded and didn’t ask any further questions.

All at once, they were submerged into strange silence. The air was racing with thoughts, yet the tension seemed to simultaneously make it thick, as well.

Y/N sighed. She might as well get this over with. 

“I know you want to ask, so just ask,” Y/N mumbled as her fingers raced across the keyboard and her eyes never left the screens.

“Doesn’t the whole…” Dick really didn’t know how to put it delicately.

Y/N sighed, clearly annoyed with his fumbling. She turned around in her chair to face him. “Does his age bother me? Is that what you’re struggling to ask?”

Dick shifted his weight awkwardly, “I guess so. Yeah.”

She raised her brow. “Haven’t you dated a literal alien before?”

“That’s not the same thing,” he defended with a glare.  

“Oh, so as long as the alien is the same age as you, it’s fine?”

Dick really didn’t have an answer for that.

“It’s just that…aren’t you a little young for him?” Somehow he managed to leave out the rudeness in the question. That must be the Wayne charm.

“Isn’t 9 a little young to put on a costume and fight crime?”

Dick sighed, “Touché.”

“I am one of the most successful hackers in the world. He’s a vigilante who dresses up as a bat. What about us screams normal and conventional to you, Dick?”

He knew she had a point.

“Plus, we aren’t in a relationship. It was a one-time thing. Nothing more. It happened a long time ago.”

However, she conveniently left out the heated kiss they shared last night.

“You sure about that?” Dick challenged.

Y/N just eyed him.

“Because the only women he’s had one-time things with are the one’s he’s used or paid to keep the image.” He took a step closer. “And they definitely didn’t know who he really was.”

Y/N tried not to let it show that his words caught her off guard.

This exactly what Y/N didn’t want.

She didn’t want anyone putting ideas in her head that she actually meant something to Bruce Wayne. Because she might make the mistake of believing it.

It happened once. They slept together once. One time. 

Had there been a indescribable intensity between them since then? Yes. But Y/N didn’t like to acknowledge or think about that.

“Can we please stop talking about this?” She asked.

Dick blinked and shook his head. “Sorry,” he blurted out. “I didn’t mean to…make you uncomfortable.”

Y/N put her face in her hands and groaned.

Then she shot to her feet and faced Dick. If he wasn’t a vigilante who could break the average man in one swift move, he would be intimidated by the energy radiating off of her.

“Hmm…I wonder why this conversation could ever make me feel uncomfortable, Dick,” her sarcasm was almost too natural.

Then her face dropped.

 When her body language screamed that she was embarrassed, that’s when Dick felt like a piece of shit.

“Look, we’re not…” She didn’t even know how to explain this. “We’re nothing. OK?”

Dick nodded slowly, “OK.”

And he believed her. Because she believed it. Whether that was the truth though, that was an entirely different story.

“We met years ago because I threatened to expose his identity to the world.”

Dick blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

Y/N at least had the shame to look guilty about it.

“You threatened him? You threatened Bruce Wayne? The man who dresses up as a bat and scares the shit out of the criminals of Gotham?”

“I didn’t plan on actually doing it!” Y/N tried to defend. “I needed to get his attention. And guess what, it worked.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose as she thought back in time. “I discovered a sex trafficking ring. I had all the information, everything to take it down. I just needed a little…muscle.”

“And you thought Batman could be that muscle,” Dick finished for her.

She nodded.

Then Dick looked at the all the equipment. Her story reminded him what she was fully capable of and why she was here in the first place. “How did you learn to do all of this?”

It was obvious that he was trying to change the subject and give her an out. But she let him still.

Y/N shrugged.

“Is this the part where you tell me about all your degrees from various Ivy League universities?” Dick teased.

“I didn’t go to college,” she told him evenly.

“You di–How is that even possible?”

“I don’t agree with institutionalized higher education.”

Dick rolled his eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” she warned him. “You didn’t go to college either.”

Dick scoffed and crossed his arms. “Of course that’s old information to you. Is there anything that you don’t know about me?”

She smirked at his obvious frustration. “I don’t know your favorite color.”

Though she had been teasing him before, her confession was genuine. And her soft tone didn’t go amiss with Dick.

For a moment, Y/N didn’t think he was going to tell her. 

“It’s red,” he told her softly.

“Hmm,” she was surprised. “I always assumed it was blue…because of the uniform and all.”

“Red was always the color of my family’s costumes.” He knew the answer was rather vague.

Y/N’s face turned sympathetic, “The Flying Graysons?”

Dick nodded.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad that she seemed to know everything about him.

“Red’s a good choice,” Y/N added with a sad smile.

But he realized what she was actually saying was her condolences. Somehow it was better than the forced and awkward “I’m so sorry” he constantly got.

Dick grabbed a chair and sat down to face her with such purpose.

“What else do you want to know?”

Y/N allowed herself to smile at the question. 

“Everything.”

—————

Y/N got addicted to Dick’s openness.

Once Dick Grayson decided to trust someone…he really trusted them.

He didn’t hide himself from Y/N.

Unlike Bruce, Dick was easy to read. But Y/N knew that wasn’t the case for everyone. She saw the way Dick communicated with old team members or even on comms with his brothers. 

But for Y/N, if she asked him something, Dick gave her the answer.

It was as simple as that.

There were no games, no hiding, nor withholding, not manipulation, no fear.

There was just Dick Grayson.

But Y/N also new he was capable of all of those things still. She’d seen him twist conversations and put the focus on the other person. He doesn’t seem to have any issue with blatantly lying. That’s when Y/N saw Bruce.

So why was she different?

————

“I can’t stay another second in this fucking house,” Y/N snapped one day.

They had just eaten dinner and were now sitting in one of the dens. 

Dick laughed at her. “It’s not exactly a prison, Y/N. You’re in a mansion with everything you could ever need – and more.”

But this was the most time Y/N had spent in one place. She was always moving, always on the run. Yeah, she stayed in Gotham for the most part, but she missed the dangerous streets of the city.

“I’m not taking you out,” Dick gave her a warning look as he pointed at her.

“OK. First off, Bruce said nothing about me not being able to leave.”

Dick gave her a look that said, ‘How dumb do you think I am?’

“And if you were with me, then it’s fine. Right?”

“Y/N,” Dick groaned.

“And finally, I can do what I want,” Y/N added with a serious look.

“Sure you can,” he smirked.

But Y/N was being serious and she stood up. “I’m not his prisoner.”

Then she was headed toward the garage.

“No one said you were,” Dick called out after her.

He jumped in front of her, blocking her path.

“Y/N, you know more than anyone that The Court has eyes everywhere. Your face shows up on one street camera for a second and you’ll be tagged. They’ll follow you back here and then nowhere will be safe.”

“I know,” she answered as if it were obvious. “But we’re just going for a drive. Half of Bruce’s cars have tinted windows. And we’re going to take the backroads on the fringe. No street cameras. I doubt we’ll even see another car.”

Dick was adding up the risks in his head, calculating every possible outcome.

“Is Nightwing scared of what Batman will think?” Y/N teased.

Dick raised his eyebrow in amusement and crossed his arms. “Whatever game you’re trying to play…we both know I can play it better.”

She gave him the most innocent face. 

Dick sighed. Was he really about to do this?

“Come on,” he told her.

“Really?” Y/N was shocked she got him to concede.

“But I’m driving. And we’re taking the bike,” he called over his shoulder as he turned on the lights of the garage.

‘Garage’ was an understatement. It looked more like a fancy warehouse that housed at least 20 cars and a dozen motorcycles.

“The bike?” Y/N questioned.

Dick chuckled. “What? You scared of riding motorcycles?” 

Before she had the chance to answer, he pushed a helmet into her chest. It would fully cover her face and had a tinted visor shield on it. 

“Need I remind you that this was your idea?”

Y/N glared at him and put on the helmet.

She watched a safe distance away as Dick started his motorcycle and revved he engine.

Even though she was wearing a helmet, he could still tell she was apprehensive.

“Come on,” he encouraged her gently before putting on his own helmet.

Slowly, she approached the motorcycle.

“Just swing your leg over – there you go,” he instructed.

Then he put on his helmet and Y/N realized there were comms linked between the two helmets so they could hear each other easily.

“Uhh…where do I–how do I hold on?” Her question stumbled out.

To her surprise, he didn’t verbally answer. Instead, Dick just reached behind him for her hands and placed them under his leather jacket and around his waist.

The contact felt strangely intimate. And Y/N hated that it made her heart race a bit faster. She hoped he couldn’t feel it as her chest bumped against his back. Hopefully he would just think it was her adrenaline and fear from the bike. 

“Good?” He asked as he revved the engine again.

“I think so?”

Suddenly they shot out of the garage and raced down the long drive that led to the gate. 

Y/N didn’t think Dick was going unusually fast, by any means. But the motorcycle made everything feel more extreme. She slowly started to put together why people liked riding them so much. It was a rush. 

Dick did as he suggested and took backroads, avoiding any main streets or heavy-traffic areas. Which meant a lot of twists and turns.

But Y/N was surprised when he started to slow down and pulled onto a street that was just surrounded by forests. The sun had just set and the sky was colored pink and purple.

Dick turned off the bike when they reached a clearing. It was a meadow, with tall grass that moved like the ocean from the night breeze.

Y/N took off her helmet and grinned at the sight. 

She turned to Dick, “Didn’t expect a city boy like you to know places like this…”

“City boy?” Dick looked insulted. “I was a traveling circus kid before Bruce took me in.” He looked out at the land, “This was one of our stops. We set up right over there,” he pointed to an open field where the ground was even and the grass was short.

Y/N’s face changed when she realized Dick had a connection to this place. It wasn’t just a stop off the highway. It meant something to him.

“Thank you,” she mumbled. It was hard to meet his gaze.

“For what?”

“Taking me here. For taking me anywhere, really.”

“Despite how enormous the manor is, it’s suffocating sometimes,” Dick tried to reason with her. “Has it really been so bad, being stuck with us?”

“No,” she quickly answered and took a step toward him. “How much time have you spent working with a team?”

Dick thought about it. “I mean, after leaving Bruce, I just went from one team to another. Even when I think I’m working alone, my family is always around the corner.”

Y/N gave him a sad smile, already knowing that would be his answer. “I never had that. It’s always just been…me.”

“Why?” Dick questioned. 

He knew better than anyone that heroes found other heroes, whether they wanted to or not. And he knew from experience that a team had a stronger chance of changing the world for the better. Even Bruce gave up on being a lone warrior – despite him trying to believe he still is one. 

“I don’t go after criminals that wear face paint and shoot guns, Dick. I go after the people that terrify others into silence and submission. I go after the people that most don’t even know we should be going after.” She shook her head. “It’s dangerous in a different way. And I never wanted to risk anyone else’s life but my own.”

“But when things go south, who’s got your back?” Dick challenged.

Y/N thought about it a moment and just shrugged.

Dick’s eyes saddened. “It doesn’t have to be that way, Y/N.”

She didn’t acknowledge his statement.

When there was a large gust of wind, Y/N closed her eyes as if it would help her body absorb the nature around them.

Dick allowed himself to take her in while her eyes were closed – all of her. 

He still didn’t know so much about her past – what she’s seen, what she’s been through. But he felt like he understood her as a person. He saw how intelligent she was, how she explained things to Tim without sounding condescending or embarrassing him for not knowing. Or how patient she was with Damian when he was his bratty self, and she clearly saw his behavior for what it was: a child who didn’t know how to converse with normal people. And when Jason was a sarcastic smartass, Y/N gave it right back to him. Dick also didn’t miss how Y/N offered to help Alfred cook and clean up as if it wasn’t his job.

The moment Dick was having as he looked at Y/N was interrupted by his phone.

“100 bucks that it’s Bruce,” Y/N griped.

And when Dick pulled it out from his pocket, lo and behold, Bruce’s name was lit on the screen.

“Hello. Yeah, she’s with me. We just went for a drive. We’re heading back now.”

As soon as he hung up, Y/N asked, “Was he pissed?”

“He was extremely calm, which is probably not a good sign.”

But Dick didn’t seem too concerned with Bruce’s wrath. He’d grown out of that long ago. 

“Come on,” he nodded to his parked motorcycle.

Y/N slid on the bike behind him with much more confidence and finesse this time. And there was no hesitation as she wrapped her hands around around Dick’s waist. He swore her grip was tighter too.

“Ready?” Dick still asked her. 

But then his hand seemed to have a mind of his and slid over the grip she had on his waist, brushing across one of her hands almost…affectionately.

He didn’t even realize he did it until a few seconds afterward.

“Mhmm,” Y/N hummed.

The ride back was less peaceful. The sun had gone down and if they weren’t in view of Gotham’s city lights, they couldn’t see their surroundings. It also didn’t help that they knew they were returning to the manor to face Bruce.

When they parked inside the garage and turned off the engine, they both heard Bruce call Dick’s name from inside.

Y/N winced, but quickly recovered.

She squeezed Dick’s upper-arm. “Don’t worry. This is on me.”

Before Dick couldn’t argue and say he wasn’t scared of Bruce, Y/N was walking back into the manor.

“Need I remind you that you’re number one on The Court of Owls’ hit list?” Bruce told Y/N darkly.

He was wearing a black turtleneck and slacks. It was an off-duty look for him, but he still looked like he was in some sort of uniform.

“Dick had nothing to do with it,” Y/N defended calmly. “I threatened to photoshop nudes of him and sell them to TMZ and the Daily Mail.”

Bruce shared a look with Dick over Y/N’s shoulder, proving that he already knew Y/N had made no such threat.

“I’ll be in my lab,” Y/N announced, deciding to end the conversation before it could turn into a lecture or argument. 

When she passed Bruce, Y/N turned around and gave Dick a grateful smile before mouthing, ‘Thank you’ to him.

Now it was just Bruce and Dick.

“If you want to lecture me, just get it over with,” Dick sighed.

“You know better,” Bruce answered.

“She was going to leave whether I went with her or not. I thought it was best to keep an eye on her. I wasn’t stupid about it, Bruce.”

“Don’t let it happen again.”

Dick glared at him. “We can’t keep her locked up here forever.”

“She’ll stay until we take down The Court. Until then, she’s at risk.”

Dick quirked an eyebrow. “Careful, Bruce. It’s starting to sound like you’re making this personal.”

But they both knew there was another meaning behind his words. Dick saw Bruce put together what he was really trying to say. ‘I know you two have a history. I know what happened between you.’

But Dick didn’t know what was happening now. 

Bruce just glared at him and said, “I could say the same to you.”

Then he turned and left.

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

Part III

Ooooooo. The drama!

Let me know what you think! Please 😔

[fulltimemoaner]

Zhongli is prosecuted for giving his Gnosis to the Tsaritsa, leaving him and Childe no choice than to flee to Snezhnaya.

Basically, some thieves cut Zhongli’s hair and Childe slaughters them because he really liked his hair.

Childe’s warm hand had felt comforting on his waist, even if he was hidden in a cloak under the warm sun of Liyue, being sneaked out of his homeland like the fugitive that he had become, like the land below him had forgotten the gentle rumbling of his energy and the security of his spears. He had fought back the urge to cry, thousands of years of protecting his safe harbour pointing their treacherous fingers at him. Yet, unlike Azhdaha, there was no bitterness, no disgust towards his beloved humans that had so willingly shunned him after news of his contract with the Tsaritsa had surfaced. In fact, the adoring citizens of Liyue had issued a warrant for him, for the Archon’s head that had wished to sign with the Fatui and sell out their safety.

Zhongli did not wish for the dominion of his beliefs, nor for acceptance, because mortal life was too brief and brittle to understand the gamble of him keeping his Gnosis when he could feel the claws of erosion leeching into his sanity. To their eyes, he had been their loving and protective God, who couldn’t be wrong, who would continue to reign for the millennia to come. The rusty floorboards had creaked underneath his feet, and he had caught the last traces of his homeland’s sun before he had been ushered to the basement of the ship for the first few hours, until they had been a safe distance from Liyue.

The adepti had weeped for this outcome, yet he had begged them not to rain down their vengeance on the mortals, to be gentle and understanding. He had entrusted them with the continuous protection of their harbour.

And the next air he breathed was that of Snezhnaya, the first light he saw was cold and fragile. He had emerged from his murky cabin in the early morning and had approached the railing that separated them from the freezing ocean. The rippling wind whipped back the hood of the heavy coat Ajax had provided him with, and now his hair waved in the wind, his eyes staring emptily into the distance as his skin itched from the cold. The Tsaritsa had accepted him as a fugitive asking for protection, and now, as his hands gripped the railing, he realised he hadn’t been that far away from home since the Archon War.

He looked up, feeling the soft tears that clung to his eyelashes freezing over, the sun obscured by a thick layer of clouds. How he missed the gentle breeze already.

The same went for Snezhnaya itself, it was cold enough to make his breath catch in his throat and his lungs ache. Ajax had taken his scarf off and wrapped it around his neck at the sound of his laboured breathing, then adjusted it to make sure it was covering his mouth and nose. Zhongli’s eyes had been curious as to why the ginger had been so gentle the past couple days, even the snark and edge having left his voice. Perhaps he felt for him. At least the gaze of the locals was gentle and welcoming, for the most part, offering him local delicacies and flowers before he and Childe could even reach his home. The Harbinger had been welcomed back like a hero, with huge bouquets and a massive meal prepared by his family.

Zhongli had been catatonic, at best, but at least, he had found some comfort in talking to the children, who were, as always, excited and easily impressed by his stories of dragons and extinct creatures.

He had stayed indoors for the first couple of days, too reluctant to go exploring on these foreign lands, but eventually, his confidence started building up again, so he picked up the small bag of money that Childe left for him every morning. -Zhongli had given his allowance of the two previous days to the little kids, since he hadn’t gone outside and concepts such as saving were nonexistent in his brain-

The attire, that he was getting used to. He wasn’t a huge fan of wearing boots, but he could say their smooth leather sealed him from the snow pretty well, and that the heavy coat felt strangely comforting around his shoulders. More than once, he had overheard people calling him the golden devil, which he considered to be quite endearing in its own, clueless way.

He stepped by a merchant’s booth with imported stones, including what they described as Liyuen Cor Lapis and Noctilucous Jades. He leaned in a bit closer for observation, and the merchant seemed to shift uncomfortably, which pretty much told Zhongli that these were, in fact, fake. He straightened up again, unable to resist teasing the merchant. “Are these imported straight from the chasm?”

The shopkeeper’s eyes seemed to go wide, and he quickly tried to dodge the question. Thankfully, for him, a whistle tore through their ears and made the young foreigner turn, his eyes narrowed.

“Lovely accessory you have there, good sir.” A young man smiled, accompanied by three others. “Looks like the real thing too.” The Snezhnayan man caressed the piece of jewellery that held Zhongli’s hair into a neat ponytail in a leery way. The ex archon didn’t move, only observed with caution, his piercing gaze saying more than words ever could. “Say, you aren’t, by any chance, the Tsaritsa’s guest from Liyue harbour?”

The other men chuckled and Zhongli glanced at the merchant, who started packing up his items hurriedly, seemingly intimidated by the gang. “Why, yes, I am.” He said neutrally, his voice a notch lower than friendly.

“Huh, you have nerve, saying that so openly.” The Snezhnayan’s fist twisted around the half-golden ponytail and pulled Zhongli’s head back. “You owe us, since we so willingly welcomed you here.” The stranger smirked, reaching behind his back for a folded knife. “I’m sure we could sell Morax’s hair for quite a fortune.” Another yank to the head and Zhongli blinked apathetically. “Aren’t you fighting back?”

“I have no interest in fighting mortals.” Zhongli shrugged. “My hair is my hair. Three years to grow them back is like the blink of an eye to me.”

The man’s eyes flickered with fury at the stranger, and he brought that dagger into his coal hair, severing the strands roughly. Zhongli’s eyes stayed unmoving, hostile, hateful, in a way. The lump of hair fell into the snow unceremoniously, and one of the others scurried to grab it.

“Yo,”

Zhongli’s eyes flickered from the thief to the source of the familiar voice. Relief washed over him at the sight of ginger hair and ocean blue eyes, that slender figure hugged in his winter attire that Zhongli rarely saw him in. A primal sense of grounding gripped him, almost like the essence of his home, which he had eternally bound to Childe’s smiling face. Unorthodox, he knew, but he was like an oasis of familiarity that the weather hadn’t manage to freeze over yet.

“Where is your Snezhnayan upbringing, picking on the Tsaritsa’s guests?” Ajax sighed, walking leisurely towards Zhongli. “I have eyes and ears where my hands can’t reach, and right now, mr. Zhongli is under my supervision.” His hand found its familiar spot on the God’s waist, his eyes scanning for any traces of harm’s way on him. His hand reached the back of his head before his eyes did, and they narrowed dangerously. “Ah, is that what you were going for? It’s a shame.” Zhongli felt uncertainty creep up his spine at the shift in the Harbinger’s tone, still wishing for no harm towards the mortals.

“Ajax,”

“It’s a shame,” Childe continued, cracking his neck to the left, then to the right with a relieved smile. “Because I happened to love his hair, and I don’t take kindly to things being taken away from me.”

“Ajax, let’s go home.” Zhongli grabbed his wrist, the whole group of thieves frozen in fear at the sight of the Fatui.

“No, no. We can’t do that. When someone kisses you, they expect a kiss back, no?” Ajax stepped forward and stretched his arm out, his hydro dagger appearing into his hand. “You might not want to shift the tides here, mr. Zhongli, but these rascals are my own.”

“Run!” The leader of the thieves screamed, but they didn’t stand a chance. Childe threw the dagger first, hitting the middle one between his shoulder blades. Blood gushed out in waves and Ajax laughed joyfully, running to the gurgling body to pull his weapon out, then join it into a larger pole-arm. A jump and a couple of spins and heads went flying, legs were severed, and the snow was painted an abysmal red. Childe leaned his head back, feeling the wind swipe his hair back and freeze his smile in place. The weapons vaporised in his hands, and he slowly lowered his gaze to Zhongli, stood meekly by the scene of the slaughter. Childe wrestled the hair out of the dead man’s grip, for the sake of retreating the luxurious clip that his lover favoured since he first met him. “Measly thieves. Someone has to be the sacrificial lamb, the subject to teach the others a lesson,”

Zhongli’s eyes eased shut when Ajax closed in on his space, leaning close to his face and pushing the small accessory into his gloved hand. “I love you.” Ajax whispered, pressing a gentle kiss into the corner of Zhongli’s brow. “And I intend to keep you safe here.”

“They wouldn’t kill me, Ajax.” Zhongli sighed deeply, leaning into Childe’s neck. “They wouldn’t be able to.”

“No one will dare to try anymore.” The Harbinger’s hand nestled to the small of the ex archon’s back, pulling him close to his body. He started to caress the back of his head with his free hand, trying to feel the roughly cut strands through the fabric of his gloves. “I’m sorry they touched you.”

“You’re more sad about that than I am.” Zhongli smiled gently and pulled the Harbinger’s head down to press their foreheads together. “It will grow back in no time.”

“I’m a mortal like they are.” Ajax whispered sadly, his eyes easing shut. Zhongli pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips in response, trying to ease the pain in his lover’s voice.

“And I’m eroding, so let’s try to outlive each other.” Zhongli chuckled, making Childe squeeze him close, a neediness evident in his touch. “I want to live like mortals do, with you, Ajax. That’s why I’m here.”

“Please, don’t say such things to me.” The Harbinger breathed deeply, trying to choke down a few stray tears. “I promise I will make your stay worthwhile.”

“I know.” Zhongli kissed his jaw quickly. “You can start by taking me somewhere, I’m freezing.”

“Right.” Childe laughed, reaching out to grasp the ex archon’s hand and pull him away from the bloodied grounds. “I’m taking you for lunch. I will tell some underlings to clean up the mess.”

“You could had been more clean about it.”

[violettelueur]

— ITADORI YUJI || MANGO

↳ featuring : itadori yuji from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : grammar issues

↳ form : imagine

↳ published : 03 february 

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 1.3k

↳ synopsis : you and itadori are about to finsh your date with a meal at a restaurant that itadori has been dying to take you to. however, while discussing what you both are planning to order, you both suddenly managed to become face to face with each other.

↳ request : I've always been too shy to request but here we go! Can I order a Yuji x reader romantic first kiss? Like it's both their first kiss and it happens unexpectedly but very cute. I hope this is fine😅 Love your writing❤ Have a good day and stay hydrated❤❤

↳ barista’s notes : so, as you can see, i suck at synopsises ʕ – ᴥ – ʔ but this is the first imagine of the month and it includes the main character of jujutsu kaisen: itadori yuji! i hooe you enjoy your cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and please don’t be shy to order again soon ʕ￫ᴥ￩　ʔ

“I went to this restaurant with Fushiguro and Kugisako before you came and it was amazing!” Itadori exclaimed as he smiled brightly at you causing you to reciprocate the action back to him as if his bright nature was somehow radiating itself to you.

“Is it? I remember Fushiguro telling me something about you guys going to a Chinese restaurant, is it this one?” you casually asked, as you suddenly began to recall the time when Fushiguro muttered something about craving Tan-men after a mission leading you to ask him what he was on about.

“Yeah, that one! It’s really good even though the meat Dango is really expensive, can you believe it’s 1100 yen?” Itadori complained, leading you to laugh since his face was displaying an expression of complete shock.

At this moment in time, you and Itadori were walking through the streets of Tokyo hand in hand after spending the whole day in the arcade playing random machine games, trying competitively hard to stock up on as many tickets as possible. It was surprising since you both rarely had any free time to go on any dates due to your lives as jujutsu sorcerers at Tokyo Metropolitian Curse Technical College meaning this date was actually your fifth one now that you thought about it.

‘It’s strange that we've been on so little dates yet seem like a normal long-term couple ha?’

“Y/N, we’re here!” Itadori excitedly announced, leading you to snap out of your quick daze before being guided to the menu that was brightly displayed in front of the small but busy Chinese restaurant that you had mentioned earlier.

“This is a really long menu,” you muttered quietly, as your eyes widened at the multitude of choices you had right in front of you. There were many types of dishes waiting to be chosen, from rice dishes, classic noodles dishes and even street food that you rarely see being prepared in Japan, leading your eyes to widen more at the sight. “But I’m not really surprised since it is quite common for Chinese restaurants to have such a large menu. I wonder how the cooks remember all the dishes they make?” you questioned, leading to your cheerful boyfriend to turn his head to the side to look at you before slowly smiling at the adorable sight of one of your hands holding your chin, as you continued to scan the display to choose when to order.

Itadori remembered the day you arrived in Tokyo to finally enrol in Jujutsu Tech. You came a day after Kugisaki did - much to her glee since that meant she wasn’t the only female in the group now - and he was surprised when he learned you were from the Kyoto side leading to his friend, Fushiguro to question on why you didn’t enrol that side of the school. However, he didn’t remember what you had stated since he was so entranced in your beauty the second you stepped out of the station leading him to nearly forget to introduce himself to you - he still remembers the light giggle you gave him when you caught him in the flustered moment.

“Babe, I’m going for the Tan-men, what are you getting?” you suddenly asked, leading Itadori to snap out of his daydream trace before he came to the sudden realisation of what you had just referred him to which caused a light pink hue to shyly appear on his face.

“Wait Tan-men? That’s what Fushiguro ordered last time,” Itadori stated, leading you to nod at his statement as you then explained that Fushiguro recommended it to you since he really was a fan of the chopped ginger that came with the broth and you were dying to try it ever since he had mentioned it since he gave it such a hyped review from his non-chantant tone - it was surprising that he had convinced you to get it.

“I’m going to get a large Chinese soba,” the salmon-haired boy then informed you as he turned to the menu and pointed at his option, causing you to look at him in astonishment since from what you could see from the picture on the menu displayed in front of you, the large portion size seemed bigger than the size of your face. However, you weren’t too much in shock since this was Itadori you were talking to, his strength must have come from somewhere but you couldn’t help but question his choice.

“Are you sure? It is quite a large portion,” you told him in a concerned tone as you looked up at him, leading to your boyfriend to laugh slightly as he then explained, “I ordered the same thing last time and I was craving it so bad that I had to get it again.” to which then he slowly turned his head to look at you.

However, when he fully turned his head to look down at you, his eyes suddenly widened as well as yours. You didn’t realise how close you were to him, which resulted in the tip of your nose to touch your boyfriend’s, but you couldn’t pull back at all. It was as if you both were the opposite ends of a magnet that was attracted to each other, desperately itching to come closer and closer together to finally touch.

Slowly, Itadori’s bright brown eyes began to look down at you lips, he only just noticed the hint of shine they had to them due to the lip balm you had put on while you and him were making your way to the restaurant. 

What flavour was it again? 

Cherry? Nah, that’s too stereotypical.

Strawberry? Can’t be, the balm wasn’t pink.

Wait, what colour was it again? 

“Can...I?” Itadori hesitantly asked, leading you to shyly nod your head as you didn’t trust your words at all at this point. Steadily, Itadori began to lean closer to you causing you to pull in all your strength to make your head stay still since you didn’t want to miss the chance at all.

Slowly but surely, Itadori’s lips met with your leading you to slowly close your eyes, trying to savour the feeling of your first kiss with the boy in front of you. Suddenly, your felt something warm steadily being placed on your cheek, leading you to place your hand on top of it, only to find that it was Itadori’s hand causing the warmth that was given to you by his hand to become increasingly hot as the hint of embarrassment and desire within your heart became evident as you used your other hand to grip on to his jacket to keep the attraction of your lips on his even if you were gradually losing oxygen.

Regrettably, Itadori had to leisurely pull away allowing the both of you and him to gather the air that was needed to be supplied for your lungs. However, what you didn’t realise was the Itadori took a quick lick on the bottom of his lips causing him to have a slight taste of what your lips were coated in.

“Mango?” he suddenly questioned, leading you to look at Itadori with a questionable look before instantly coming to the realisation on what he was on about.

“Oh! It’s the new Glossier mango balm that I got with Kugisaki when we went out together,” you answered, as you rummaged through your bag to pull out the said item before continuing with, “they were doing a deal of getting two mango’s and choose two more for half price, so I got rose and Kugisaki chose the other one.”

Nodding at your explanation with a bright smile on his face, Itadori grabbed your hand and pulled you into the restaurant that might have seen the romantic act from the small window at the front. However, that somehow didn’t affect the both of you even when there was evidence of the rosy cheeks on both of your expressions.

“Mango suits you Y/N, you should wear it more often!”

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[tenthgrove]

Yandere Bruno squad headcanons perhaps :0?

Yandere Team Buccelati

Content Warnings: Yandere behaviour, stalking, abduction

A/N: Apologies, but I've decided that I'm not really comfortable writing under 18s as yandere characters, so I'll just be doing Buccialati, Abbacchio and Mista for this one. Extra warning that this is really bad (I'm particularly not happy with Mista's section) because I wrote this late at night and didn't know what I was saying as I wrote it, so double apologies for that.

Bruno Buccelati

In spite of his occupation, Bruno has no qualms befriending the civilian population of Naples and doing good for them. He holds a profound pity for the victims of organised crime, and is eager to help where he can. So when you approach him on the street, asking for help with ridding yourself of a creepy stranger who had made it his business to follow and harass you, Bruno is quick to ensure your would-be stalker never looks your way again.

Although Bruno saw to it that you were escorted home safely, he can't help but feel some well-intentioned worry for your well-being over the coming days. He checks in on you again, which you find to be very sweet, but as the days pass by again his worry returns. Continuing to visit you would seem odd, he knows, but surely there's no harm in asking Narancia to check through your window once in a while?

At first it really is just concern for your safety, but after a while, Bruno is forced to accept that he is genuinely infatuated with you. His feelings are far too strong to simply sweep under the rug, and approaching you the normal way could put you in danger, provided it even works. He isn't going to kidnap you, that would leave him no better than the thugs he chases off of the streets, but to make you his he's going to resort to something unorthodox.

Bruno makes a few preparations. He does a few favours for your friends and family- gotta make sure they're on his side, He also checks his intel into the area's rival street gangs, since it can't hurt to have a hint of truth to the story he's going to tell. Then, armed with a few empty suitcases and a fake look of concern, he heads to your house late one night.

He announces to you that one of the rival gangs in the area has singled you out as a target for trafficking, and because of your previous interactions with him, they're dead set on taking you. Bruno assures you not to worry and helps you pack away your things, promising that you will be safe in his care while the issue with the gang is sorted out. You'll be staying in his house, of course. It's best he's right on call in case anyone tries to come after you.

Your new life in Bruno's house is a strange one. You cannot leave the house of course, except for the occasional short trip with him or his men to stop your mental health from suffering, but your internet access is unrestricted, you can call your family as much as you want, and you're allowed to buy anything you'd like with your money (or better, have him buy it for you). You have your own room, but Bruno often asks to come in and sit with you late at night. It's all for your comfort, of course.

After a couple of months, Bruno's excuses to keep you longer will start to run out as you start to wonder why he hasn't eliminated the street gang yet. The hope is that by this point, you would have already fallen for Bruno's charm and started to love him, but barring this, he'll simply buy more time by making up more reasons why it's unsafe for you to go home.

But, if all else fails, and you begin to insist on leaving... well, Bruno didn't want to do this, but he can't just let you go. You're locked in your room, windows barred as Bruno explains to you calmly that this is all for your own good. You can come out any time you want, Amore. All you have to do is promise to stay.

Leone Abbacchio

Despite his occasionally cold demeanour, Abbacchio is no stranger to the want for companionship and affection. In fact, it's fair to say he needs it, and that going so long without tenderness has left him empty, miserable and disillusioned. But it's only a matter of time before somebody reawakens his need for warmth.

Both of you were having a bad day. You were downtrodden and lamentful, and as sad people tend to do together, you shared your angsts together as you sat at the bus stop, neither of you caring that this was the first time you'd even seen each other.

Abbacchio does not want the conversation to end. So when the bus arrives, he gets a ticket to your stop instead, and sits with you, continuing to talk. He is sad when you say goodbye. He knows he needs to see you again. He thinks nothing of lingering to see which street you turn onto as you walk home.

Abbacchio gets to work right away. He needs to have you, but cannot see you ever falling for someone like him. Not through normal means instead. His thoughts turn to abduction, but the image of you begging and crying as he drags you to his car saddens him. He knows he could never hurt you that badly. He needs to find a half-way point, between force and natural love.

The first thing he does, once his mind is made up, is go to your boss. Using Passione's name, he quickly convinces them to fire you without any question as to why. It is a similar story with your landlord a few days later. Any friends or relatives who might take you in are also sent a warning phone-call.

You know full-well what has happened. You knew at the time your one-time companion on the bus was a mafioso, his story made that clear. You beat yourself up every minute for not avoiding him then and there. And now, as misfortune after misfortune strikes you, everyone who bears you bad news has the same white-haired stranger to speak of. When, on your first night on the streets, a tall figure approaches you from the black car, you do not feel any surprise.

Both you and Abbacchio know what he is here for, so he does not explain much. He sombrely instructs you to get in the car if you don't want to be stuck on the streets any longer, promising that he will not do you any harm if you comply. He has already struck out every other option for possibly helping yourself. You have little choice but to go with him.

You do not expect much when you arrive at Abbacchio's house, but instead you find all your old possessions lined up for you to decorate your room with. After quickly explaining where the bathroom is and which foods from the kitchen are free for taking, he goes to bed, advising that you do the same. You are completely, and utterly perplexed.

Abbacchio forces little conversation on you in the early weeks. Most of the time, he is out doing work, leaving you with free reign of his house. Soon, you do not feel at all as though you were forced to be here. You dare say your life is better here than it was before. Abbacchio's friends occasionally visit, making sure that Leone isn't mistreating you and you're fully happy here. Eventually, Abbacchio relents to letting you reopen communications with your friends. You cannot say you have anything to complain about.

The only question, is what Abbacchio ever wanted from you. It's so strange how he went to all these lengths to take you only to largely ignore you. The truth is, he's waiting for you to open up to him of your own free will. As he lies in bed alone at night, he dreams of you coming into his room, asking if he can hold you for a minute.

Mista

Guido Mista has dated a few times in the past, and he isn't interested in letting Passione stop him from continuing. It doesn't matter how you met him, just that after a few encounters you began to date, and were very happy with your new beau. You worked well together, what else is there to say?

But after your second date, Buccialati received word of your existence and was concerned. He isn't exactly going to force you to stop dating, Mista is an adult after all and can do as he pleases. But Buccelati wants to make sure you know what you're getting into.

Paying you a visit, Buccelati explains to you that your new boyfriend is involved with the mafia, and continuing to see him will involve certain risks. He is happy for you to take these risks, so long as you are aware of their existence. You thank him for him time, and immediately proceed to shut off all communication with Mista without explanation.

After a brief shouting match with Buccelati once Mista realises what he's done, he marches over to your house to plead with you to take him back. You stand your ground, that Mista lied to you and you refuse to be involved with criminals, but Mista isn't giving up.

The argument escalates. You slam the door in his face. Mista goes home and despairs. You were the best he's ever had, and now he's supposed to accept that you're just... gone?! No... all you need is a little more time. Mista turns right around and heads back to your house. This time, he isn't letting up for anything.

It goes much further than he intended. In a split-moment of instinct, Mista draws his gun and threatens you into letting him in. He really didn't mean to scare you like that, but his emotions are running high right now and he doesn't know how else to make you listen.

So, here you are now, a hostage in your own home, because your barely boyfriend couldn't let you go. In the ultimatum the two of you made after he threatened you, you ended up agreeing not to leave the house at all for the time since he was scared you'd try to run.

Mista doesn't stay with you all the time, but he visits you daily to bring you things and try to repair the relationship. To his credit, he hasn't threatened you at all since the initial incident and seems to regret it intently, but forgiving him is difficult after what he did.

Your commitments are mysteriously all taken care of, your boss inexplicably granting you a long period of furlough at full pay. Buccelati wasn't kidding when he said the group Mista was part of was powerful. You shudder to think of what else he could do.

[retvenkos]

sprinting through cobblestone streets |

The Dragon Prince - Callum, Rayla, and Ezra, x Platonic!Reader, slight fluff requested by @biqherosix​​

tw: a mob, feelings of inadequacy

word count: 2.3k

prompt: “have you always been this idiotic?”

A/N: alright, so i know the request just said callum,,,, and i was going for that originally,,,, but then this happened. i hope you don’t mind? i was going to rewrite it but then it was 2k words and i couldn’t part with it.

Summary: Being half-elf, half-human, there was nowhere that (Y/n) truly belonged. But perhaps their luck would change, when they run into a group of idiotic travelers about to be run down by an angry mob...

Being half-elf in the Human Kingdoms was risky living. (Y/n) had been born on the human side of the Breach, and yet, every day was a danger - a possibility that fear would threaten their very existence. (Y/n) had known very early on how to live as an outsider; they knew how to hide their more telling attributes and how to stay away from towns. They lived in secret, away from everyone else and only stopping into town when necessity called for it, but there was always a low level of risk, to their existence. Not a day passed where (Y/n) wasn't constantly looking over their shoulder; there were always on edge, even in the comfort of their own home.

(Y/n) had been to Xadia once, when their elven parent begged their Queen to take mercy on (Y/n), for they were just a child and a victim to their parent's whims. It wasn't their choice to be half anything - all they had ever wanted was a place to be whole. The Lux Aureans turned them away, and before (Y/n) could return home, they tried to run away.

They had foolishly thought that other elves would take them in - that perhaps Xadia was a more just place than their family had feared.

They had made it far, but not far enough. 

(Y/n) was brought back to the Human Kingdoms with their hood pulled over their head to hide their pointed ears. In Lux Aurea, it had been a horror that they did not have any horns. Here, in this place they would learn to call home, it was a blessing that there was less of them to hide.

(Y/n) had learned long ago to make no friends, to keep their head down and work hard, praying that perhaps, one day, they would be allowed into Lux Aurea as something other than the child of a traitor.

One day, (Y/n)'s parents had woken them in the middle of the night, pressing coin into their hand and telling them that it happened - they had been found, and they had to split up. They had kissed (Y/n) on their forehead, and it was the last they had seen of a friendly face for a year.

(Y/n) had run, only settling down to create roots when they had made it to Katolis - far from where each parent would be. They were careful, in this strange, new kingdom, settling in the thick of a wood where men rarely traveled, preferring to stick to the wider roads. For months, they lived without incident, only visiting villages for supplies twice - walking for days at a time so they weren't seen in the same place twice, and not coming from the same direction.

When supplies were running low once more, (Y/n) took the last of their coin and headed toward a new village - one further away, where no one would know their face. It had been a week's walk, but the burn in their thighs would be worth the protection. They slipped in amongst the crowd easily enough - the day was cold, the seasons changing to something with more of a bite and everyone had a thick cloak on, most of them with a hood pulled up, barely above the eyes. (Y/n) had found a villager to barter with easily enough, and it was when they had almost secured a reasonable deal that they heard the shouts that plagued their worst nightmares.

"You're an elf!"

Their blood ran cold.

(Y/n) had spun on their heel faster than lightning, their hand flying to the dagger they kept strapped to their side. Their heart was pounding with enough force to knock out any attacker they came up against, and despite the fear that struck their heart, (Y/n) kept a cool head. In a crowded marketplace like this, it wouldn't be long until innocent farmers became an angry mob, their ranks full of pitchforks and butcher knives. They expected to worst to greet them, but when (Y/n) turned, the horde of villagers wasn't looking at them at all, but three other travelers, one of which was unmistakably an elf.

"An elf? No way!" One of the travelers - a young boy with messy brown hair, chuckled nervously, projecting his voice in an almost comedic way, trying to wave off the villagers as the group slowly backed up, edging themselves towards the mouth of the street, where they might find a chance of escaping. "We're all very much human, here..."

(Y/n) slipped their bag of coin into their pocket, ducking and weaving through the crowd to edge their way closer to the ostracised group. If (Y/n) could find an outlet, maybe they could sneak off and save their own skin. But if they could create a distraction of some sort and pull the elf and her friends to safety, maybe they could be given some type of reward...

A reward that might earn them a place in Xadia.

 "My human friend is wearing an elven costume! Y'know, for... a play?"

(Y/n) sighed at the lame excuse before pushing over a street cart.

The villagers were startled, caught off guard by the loud crash and apparent destruction, and it was just enough time for (Y/n) to rush forward, seizing the elf's arm and dragging her forward out of the crowd. The boys followed in suit, and together they got a head start, sprinting through the cobblestone streets.

"Hey!"

The villagers got their bearings quick enough and were only more enraged by the idea of a chase. (Y/n) took a sharp turn down the narrow street that they had originally entered into town from, ushering the group forth. A hay cart stood in the middle of the street, and (Y/n) picked up the young boy that held a glow toad by the back of his jacket to help him vault over the obstacle. The other boy from earlier - the one with the terrible excuse, jumped over with a fair amount of success -  the adrenaline mixed with some quick thinking leading him to step on boxes nearby like makeshift steps, making the jump easier to handle. The elf jumped over with remarkable agility and (Y/n) followed in suit, the sudden movement pushing their cloak back, revealing their best-kept secret - their elven shaped ears. 

(Y/n) cursed but didn't have time to scramble for the hood, instead choosing to press forth, leading their new allies into the woods, where they had just enough time to find a hiding place from the mob, the hay cart having been the perfect barrier.

Only half of the villagers passed by their hideout, judging by the cacophony of footfalls and heavy breathing, accompanied by the gruff voice of one villager, who decided to round everyone up and wait by the main road - they would have to get out, somehow.

The group had managed to stay exceptionally still, while their pursuers cleared out of the wood, but (Y/n) could feel three pairs of eyes watching them, their level of scrutiny unsettling.

When all was quiet, (Y/n) dared to venture forth, and they found the woods uninhabited. The three that (Y/n) had saved were slower to exit their hiding spot, and when they did, they turned on (Y/n) quickly - the elf already whipping out her swords.

"Who are you?"

"You mean other than your savior?" (Y/n) said, putting their hand on the hilt of their dagger - just in case.

"What are you, then?" The elf took a step forward, her accent punctuating her every word. "You're not human, but you're not elf either."

"I'm both."

And the revelation was just enough to stun the elf, allowing the idiotic boy from earlier to step up. "Well, thank you for your help back there. Right, Rayla?" —he shot a glance at the elf and she pushed her lips together, clearly still on edge— "I'm Callum and this is Ezran with Bait. And you are...?"

"(Y/n)." They crossed their arms against their chest, narrowing their eyes.

"(Y/n)," Callum repeated, nodding his head slowly as he shot wayward glances back at his friends, who were still assessing the situation. Ezran peered up at (Y/n) with a trepidatious kind of respect while Rayla still held her swords out, her brow furrowed, mirroring (Y/n). 

"What were you doing in a human village, (Y/n)?" Rayla all but spat, tightening her grip.

"Apparently being smarter than you - have you always been this idiotic?" (Y/n) turned to look at Callum and he reeled backward, offended. "Going into a village market with an elf is a death sentence! You could have been caught."

"You went in there!"

"Because I had to! You are a human traveling with an elf - you could have easily gone without her."

Callum blinked, tilting his head to the side. Little Ezran walked up, tugging on his brother's sleeve. "(Y/n) has a point, y'know."

"Yeah, well, we just didn't think of it," Callum mumbled, earning a scoff from (Y/n), which elicited a glare from Rayla. "But in our defense, things were going smoothly until I tripped and pushed Rayla's hood back."

(Y/n) chuckled darkly, rolling their eyes, and Rayla took the opportunity to press forth. "What are you doing here, anyway? Shouldn't you be in Xadia?"

(Y/n) took a step closer, as though daring Rayla to make a move. "Shouldn't you?"

"Whoa!" Callum stepped between the two, gingerly pushing them apart. "Shouldn't we all be?"

(Y/n) shot him a suspicious look - one that they had been saddled with their whole life. It felt odd, almost, giving it to someone else. "Why would you be heading to Xadia? Why are you traveling with an elf, anyway?"

Callum chuckled nervously again, grabbing the back of his neck with one hand and pointing at (Y/n) with the other. "I mean, no better place than Xadia - right? The magic, the elves, the dragons..."

"Callum doesn't know what he's talking about," Rayla recovered, but there was a slight shake to her voice - a tell. "He's taking me to the Moonshadow Path - we're friends. He's not coming with me. Humans don't belong in Xadia."

But Callum winced at that, and Ezran looked down, his feelings hurt. If Rayla noticed, she found no point in disputing her statement, choosing instead to press forth.

"Do you?"

And (Y/n) thought of why they had saved this group of idiots in the first place... in the hopes that they would get the recognition needed to belong in Xadia. For a couple of humans, a glow toad, and a Moonshadow elf, they seemed pretty intent on making it to the magical world beyond the Breach. Whatever their reason, it must have been good, seeing as they banded together, despite the hatred that ran between their races. (Y/n)'s immediate reaction was to leave and never look back - face the consequences of saving these odd travelers and find a new village to buy grain from, continuing to live the way they always had - but they couldn't. For a reason that was beyond what (Y/n) had always thought to be true, a feeling that went beyond their mantra to make no friends and keep their head down, they felt the urge to stay.

Ignoring the voice in their head that screamed at them to not make such a stupid mistake, (Y/n) lifted their hand and pushed away Rayla's sword with the tip of their gloved finger.

"I don't belong anywhere. But I hoped that by saving you, maybe I could." 

Ezran took a sympathetic step forward, coming out from behind his friends, and looking (Y/n) deep in the eye. There was something in his gaze that made (Y/n) feel like he understood them, despite their lives being so different. Callum put a hand on the younger boy's shoulder and (Y/n) noticed it was in his eyes, too. They turned to Rayla, and she looked away, but there was a fury in her eyes - a familiar wave of anger that had to be righteously earned from being cast out, from being an outsider in a place that should have been home. 

Suddenly, it dawned on (Y/n) that this ragtag group of wanderers didn't belong anywhere, at least, not anymore, and were walking to Xadia with a hope that (Y/n) had lost long ago.

"You can belong with us if you want," Ezran spoke up, and his words seemed to have the conviction of one twice his age, as though he had been born to royalty. (Y/n) entertained the idea as they considered his words. He certainly held the air of a royal, and he had nice enough clothes to be in the nobility.

"Ezran." Rayla fixed him with a look, one that implied they had secrets to keep.

"They saved our lives, Rayla, we can't just leave them."

The elf hesitated, but Callum stepped forward, a bit of suspicion still swimming in his eyes, but something more hidden beneath. "What Ez means to say is that you can journey with us if you want."

(Y/n) raised an eyebrow. "And you're sure Rayla isn't going to kill me when my back is turned?"

"Not if you don't give me a reason to," Rayla said, and Callum turned to her with a poignant stare.

"We need all the help we can get, Rayla. We need to be safe if we're going to make it back to Xadia"

"Do you trust them with our cargo?"

(Y/n) cocked their head, and Rayla looked at them with a harsh glance. Callum sighed. "I don't think we have much of a choice."

"Alright, then," Rayla sighed, taking a step forward and extending her hand. (Y/n) hesitated for a moment before pulling off their glove, exposing their lack of a fifth finger, and clasping it with hers.

"You'll take me to Xadia?"

And Callum was the one to answer, shaking (Y/n)'s other hand with his own. "You can walk with us as long as you'd like."

-- taglist: message me if you want to be added to a taglist!

[lazuli-bloom]

Roses and Styx

Chapter 1 - An Inconvenient Attachment

Beetlejuice x Reader

Word Count : 5365

Sure life wasn’t always easy, it had it’s ups and downs, but you were doing alright for yourself. Mostly. However when you find a strange sight while on your lunch break one autumn afternoon, your life gets all the more unusual.

Archive | Next Chapter

--=--=--

The sun beat down on you, unobstructed by a single cloud in the vibrant blue sky. A pleasant breeze wafted by, chilling the heat of the sun’s kiss. Summer was in its death throes, but stayed determined to linger as long as possible. It gave an odd contrast to the scenery. The blazing warmth of a summer sun illuminating the turning leaves and tombstones on that early October afternoon.

You sat on a stone bench enjoying your lunch in the quiet peace of the graveyard. Most people avoided visits to the cemetery, not wanting to keep the company of the dead. You, however, frequented it. With few visitors and lovely Gothic inspired architecture, the cemetery made a relaxing place for lunch breaks. Plus, it was only a short walk from your job.

While there were benches throughout the graveyard, your favorite spot was one off in the corner and closest to the gate. That day, however, there had been a funeral held in that corner of the cemetery. So as not to impose, you picked a different bench to occupy. You tried to not let your gaze stay fixed on the graveside service, but the task proved to be easier said than done. The funeral repeatedly pulled your attention back to it by partly virtue of being an event you’ve rarely seen.

Many people, dressed in black, all focused on one grave. Most of the figures standing there were adults, but among the crowd were children clinging onto parents. The group was too far to get a proper look at any of the mourners, but there was one that stuck out. A man, slightly broad in build, wore a peculiar striped suit with wide vertical bars in black and white. You noted the clothing choice as strange, but tried not to judge. Perhaps he wasn’t able to get a solid black suit on short notice.

The strange pattern of the suit made it easy to pick him out against the other mourners. He didn’t stay still. He moved around, seeming to want to get other’s attention only to be ignored. The man’s bizarre actions, coupled with the indifference of the crowd, were major reasons you kept glancing back to the funeral.

You shake your head and check your phone, almost two o’clock. Time to head back to work. You grab your trash and get up with a stretch. With one last glance back to the funeral, you find the striped suit man looking back your way. You pay him no mind and check your phone once more before heading to leave.

To wring the most time and relaxation out of your lunch, you amble back to the hardware store. You turn to the next street where brick shops sat side by side. On the corner was a shop with a rounded, sun-faded green awning stretched over most of the front facade. Your eye glanced over the printed “Rose Creek Hardware” in yellow letters for what must have been the millionth time.

The bell above the door chimed as you stepped inside. To your left an older mustached man stood behind the front counter. He wore a light blue button down under a green apron, both tight around his rounder stomach. He gave you a warm smile that you returned.

“Back from lunch already, Cass?”

“Yeah. It’s really nice out today, I can hardly believe it’s October already.”

“Hopefully, when I get the Halloween decorations up, it’ll give things a more autumn feel.”

“Can’t wait to see it, Mr. Turner! Oh, and is Sam still here? Or have they left already?”

“They’re still around. Sam was helping the new hire.”

You nod and make your way behind the counter to retrieve your apron. After you get the strings tied, you do a sweep of the store. You found Sam in the back corner pulling merchandise forward. They didn’t notice you straight away, so you softened your footsteps for your approach. You stayed at their back until they turned enough one way that you could slip around to their side and not get caught in Sam’s peripheral. Once close enough to the shelving yourself, you slap your hands down on a bare spot- “-Missed a spot!”

Sam seized up, grabbing the shelf for support. “Geez, dude! You trying to kill me?” A wide grin breaks across your face. You chuckle to yourself as Sam regained some composure. They took a breath, shot you a glare, and got back to work.

“Heard you were training the new guy.”

“Yeah, he left already.”

“What’s he like?”

“Eh. Kinda boring? White bread personified, if you ask me. Dude came in with a dress shirt and tie.”

You shrug and start helping pull forward items. While turning products to have labels front-facing you continue on with your conversation. “Sounds like all I’ll have left to talk to will be Mr. Turner.”

There was a pause in that moment, and a sting of sorrow poked at your heart. You do your best to smother the feeling and focus on your work. It’s better to cherish the moment. You force yourself to smile and keep your chat going.

“So, there was a funeral today-”

Sam groaned and rolled their eyes at you. “You went to that creepy graveyard again? How are you not haunted?”

“Hey! I told you, it’s close by and usually quiet. I enjoy taking my lunches there. Anyway, there was a funeral and one guy there was in a weird suit with black and white stripes. Kinda like the Hamburglar.”

“I swear. You’re a magnet for the weirdest shit. It’s all those shitty movies you watch that seep into your head. How the hell do you not get nightmares?”

You stay silent and look over the product in your hand as your mind wandered back to your most recent nightmare. Piercing blue dots masked in shadow, watching every move you made. You shake your head to dismiss the thought.

You huff out a small laugh. “Guess that stuff just doesn’t get to me.”

“Whatever. Just don’t let any of your weirdness rub off on my cat.”

You press your lips into a tight line and tap your finger against the pliers in hand. “You sure there isn’t anywhere else he can go?”

“Cassie, I already told you I checked.”

“I’m just worried. I don’t think this is a good idea. My apartment doesn’t allow pets.”

“It’s just for two weeks. I’ll pick him up on the sixteenth. Hell, that’s not even a full two weeks, just thirteen days. You’ll be fine.” Sam finished with their side of the aisle and took a step back. “When do you want me to drop him off?”

You breathe out through your nose and make a noise somewhere between a hum and a groan. “Seven should be alright. Donna’s always heads out to the bars on Saturdays, so it should be clear by then.”

“You need to lighten up and not worry so much. Maybe a cute roommate is exactly what you need.”

You don’t give a reply and go back to work. The two of you split off and start tackling other sections of the store. Time marched on, and all too soon, Sam’s last shift ended. Mr. Turner bid them a farewell with a handshake and handed Sam their last paycheck. You give them a small wave and focus back on your task. You knew full well you were going to see them later that night, so you didn’t see the point of having a drawn out goodbye right then.

Once Sam left, the rest of the day dragged on slower than a sloth on crutches. When there weren’t any customers needing help, you talked with Mr. Turner. It gave you something to do, sure, but time still crawled.

That day was one of the worst kinds you can have in retail. The kind that’s just slow enough you bored out of your mind, and peppered with enough customers that you couldn’t slack off and dick around on the store’s desktop. It’s like they coordinated to space themselves out to be the most annoying.

As grueling as it took to get there, five-thirty eventually rolled around. You and the boss took the last half hour to close the store. Sweep, wipe down the counters, count the till, all that good stuff. You were in the middle of dusting when Mr. Turner handed you an envelope. You thanked him and opened it to count the bills inside. Five whole Benjamins. With another thanks, you move the bills into your wallet and get back to dusting.

Once all finished, you headed out, followed by your boss. He locked the front door and walked with you around the side to the small parking lot. He hopped into his old pickup while you climbed into your little junker. The bucket of rust masquerading as a car was on its way out, but you planned on getting every mile out of it you could. Mr. Turner had driven off by the time you coaxed your car into starting. The car sputtered and hissed, but you got the clunker going.

The drive to your apartment complex was as mundane and silent as ever. Your only option for music was to sing it yourself, since the previous owner had beaten the hell out of the radio. CDs weren’t an option either as the owner before the last had stuffed the disc slot full of cookies. For what reason remained a mystery.

You drum your fingers on the steering wheel as you drove, watching familiar sites go by as you neared your apartment. Nicer well-kept buildings and streets slowly turned to the more rundown variety. The street grew more broken and in increasingly desperate need of repairs as you went.

Building after building, you passed by until finally it was time to turn off. You pull up to your complex’s parking lot, just as run down as the roads leading to it. Two buildings sat facing each other, both in contest for which one can be the most rundown. Your building nudged ahead of its twin with the recent addition of graffiti marring the exterior.

You park in your designated spot, managing to not bump up against the two cars encroaching on your space. You worm your way out without adding anymore dents to the black sedan, and head to the complex’s front door. Standing near the door with a cigarette between clawed yellowed fingers was a scrawny older woman with a perpetual sneer on her wrinkled face. Cold steel eyes narrowed at you as you dared to approach the harpy.

“Hi Donna. How are you?”

“Parker! Where’s the rest of your rent?”

You force a smile to mask the spike of irritation. This harpy is going to be the death of you. You clear your throat to help prevent your ire from bleeding out into your tone.

“Right here, Donna. I get my pay on Saturdays.”

“Not my problem. Rent is due in full on the first. Today is the third.”

“I tried paying you last Saturday, but you-”

“The first, you stupid child. Not Before. Not after.”

“Yes Donna, I know. I’m sorry, I needed to replace a flat tire an-.”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses. Just pay the rest of your rent and get out of my sight. You worthless leech, can’t even follow basic instructions.”

You press your lips into a tighter line to keep yourself from screaming at the horrid bat. It was best to bite your tongue and get the interaction over and done with as quick as you could. You pull out your wallet and hand over four bills. It was nice while it lasted.

Donna snatched the money from you and promptly counted it. Once satisfied, she took a long drag off her cigarette. She ordered you to leave while smoke seeped out of her mouth like a dragon.

You didn’t need to be told twice. You hurried off to your apartment, climbing the stairs to the second floor and making a beeline for your door at the end of the hall.

You shut the door, leaning against it and breathed out a deep breath. After calming yourself some, you set your keys on the counter by the door and step further into your little abode.

You make your way back to the small living room and crash on the dingy brown love-seat, tossing your phone onto the stained coffee table. You lean back and stare at the ceiling. A boring white painted over heavy popcorn texture, collecting all kinds of dust. You close your eyes and let your mind wander, wanting to squeeze some relaxation time out of the rest of the day. Too bad your phone rang.

Sam called to tell you they were on their way with the cat. You told them to be careful and not let Donna see them on the off chance that she hadn’t left for the bar yet. Sam, however, brushed aside your concerns and told you not to be so worried. You pinched the bridge of your nose and groaned at that. Sam wasn’t the one that had to deal with Donna and hopefully never will.

It wasn’t until a long while later that there was a knock at your front door. A quick check through the peephole showed you Sam was on the other side with a backpack and pet carrier. You open the door and hurry them inside. Sam stepped in, stopping in the space between the kitchen and living area, and looked over the place.

“Wow. This place is shitty.”

“Thanks, hadn’t noticed.”

Sam set the carrier down on your couch, and the cat inside growled in a low tone. Sam took off their backpack next and handed that one over to you.

“Here’s all of Rigel’s things; food, bowls, litter box, toys. I’ll be back in town to get the last of my stuff on the sixteenth, and I’ll pay you then.”

“I thought we agreed half now and half when you got back?”

“It’ll be easier to just pay you all at once.”

You drum your fingers on your thigh and let out a sigh. “Alright, fine. It will be nice to get two hundred dollars all at once.”

“See! You fuss over the smallest things.”

You change the topic by offering Sam something to drink but they declined. Sam still needed to pack up a few more boxes before the end of the night. You nod and give a small wave goodbye, only for Sam to pull you into a hug. Your muscles tense up, but you did your best to return Sam’s sudden hug.

There was a unique funk around Sam that made the hug even more challenging to bear. An overly strong lavender tried and failed to cover some mix of sweat and burnt coffee. Sam left shortly after, telling you to just call them should you need anything. You nodded and waved them off.

Once they left, you turn to Rigel stuck in his carrier. His hissing got louder the closer you got to the carrier, and was full on slashing at the front when you reached down to open it.

You recoil and let him be for the moment, choosing to set up his things in the bathroom instead. While your bathroom was on the smaller side, it seemed big enough for one cat to stay in. You pack up all the various toiletries that a bored cat might knock down and set out Rigel’s things. Litter box in the corner across from the shower stall, while his food and water were against the opposite wall between the door and the sink.

With that set up you go get the carrier. You did your best not to jostle it too much, but Rigel wasn’t pleased and let you know. He let out some of the most chilling demonic screeches as he knocked against the fabric carrier, desperate to break loose and slaughter you. You set the carrier down in the closet, closing one of the bi-fold doors so he had a dark corner to hide in. You braced yourself with a few steadying breaths before swiftly unzipping the front. Once open, you pull your hand back and leave the bathroom completely, making sure the door shut behind you.

You did your best to salvage the rest of your night, enjoying your cup of noodles while watching a movie. It was a B-Movie slasher about a supernatural being going on a killing spree in Las Vegas. And this somehow led to the being going to space in the next film. Overall, it was pretty cheesy, but got a few laughs from you.

Soon you had to wrap things up and head to bed. You sneak into the bathroom to swipe your toothbrush and clean them at the kitchen sink that night, and probably for the next two weeks. With a yawn and a stretch you change into sleepwear and crawl into your bed.

Sleep didn’t come to you easily, but it wasn’t a night full of endless tossing and turning, either. The rest you got didn’t feel like enough, as the buzzing of your alarm woke you too early for your liking.

You sat up rubbing your eyes and checked your phone for the time. The small screen on the back of the thin flip phone showed the time was seven o’ two. You heave out a sigh and pull the warm covers off.

While your body went through the motions of your morning routine, your mind wandered back to the images you saw in your dream. An island floated in the middle of a dark ocean with storm clouds rumbling high above. The cold wet sand pricked against your bare feet like needles, yet you kept on walking. You had found yourself on a rickety dock at least fifteen feet above the violent waves below. There was nothing around you, but you knew you weren’t alone. Down below, lurking beneath the water, two hungry orbs of blue glared up at you, waiting. Expecting. When you didn’t move from your perch, the beast thrashed at the pillars of the dock. You lost your footing and tumbled down to the abyss.

You shook your head, forcing your thoughts to jump back to the present. Chills ran down your spine as the nightmare crawled around in the back of your mind, clawing its way forward. You stuffed it as far back as possible and carried on with your morning.

You soon were out the door and on your way to work. You grip the toilet paper wrapped over your forearm, letting the lines of blood soak into it so it can better rest on your arm. Rigel had given you a few nasty scratches when you got him fresh water, the ungrateful bastard. At least there’s a first aid kit at work.

The bell above the door chimed as you looked at the time on your phone. The damn cat almost made you late for work. You make your way to the back room to grab your apron, only to bump into a man turning the corner. It took a second to get your bearings and notice you ran right into Mr. Turner.

“Oh shit. Sorry, sir.”

He laughed and waved you off. “Morning Cass, see you’re in a hurry.”

“Ah- no, well, kinda. I hit every red light getting here and-”

“You’re fine, don’t worry. No need to rush. Just get your apron and I’ll introduce you to the new guy.”

You nod and scurry back to grab the green apron. It hung by itself on the hooks, speckled in paint and smudges. By that point the thing was overdue to get tossed and replaced, but the same thing would end up happening to the next apron.

You throw it on and tie it behind yourself before going out to the sales floor. Mr. Turner stood next to a man younger than himself but older than you. The boss was the first to notice you and gave another wave. “There they are.”

The new guy turned and flashed you a wide smile, showing off straight white teeth in a hollow smile. Tamping down the disquiet, you force yourself to offer a smile in return. The man strode up to you and held out a hand. “Great to meet you, I’m Brandon! Mr. Turner was just telling me how great of a worker you are-” He squinted at your apron before going back to that fake smile- “Art. Interesting name.”

“Thanks,” you said, and hesitated a moment before taking his hand for a brief shake. On contact that strange buzz of discomfort shot from your palm through the rest of your arm. Once your hand was free, you fight the urge to rub off the non-existent traces of him. There wasn’t anything there, nothing real, and you knew that, but more than anything you wanted that feeling gone and the only way for it to leave was to brush it off. Why did people have to insist on handshakes, just needless physical contact with strangers? It’s stupid, and you hated it.

For the first half of your shift the boss had you go over the day-to-day tasks with Brandon. There were few customers in the store that Sunday morning, so you mostly had the guy pull forward merchandise and clean some shelves. Brandon did the tasks, but they all came with questions. Most of the questions were mundane things about the products stocked, store hours, and what times saw the most customers. The problem came when Brandon veered his questions towards you personally.

“So, is Art short for anything?”

“Artemis.”

Your answer was short and pointed. You already didn’t like that he was the type to read name tags over asking for someone’s name.

“Interesting. So you from around here?”

A shiver shot through you, and you’re quick to stop that line of questions. You ignore the question entirely, instead cutting in to tell him to finish front-facing the aisle while you go check on Mr. Turner.

The day dragged on until finally getting to your lunch break. Brandon, thankfully, caught on that you weren’t one to disclose much about yourself to a new face. However, that didn’t make the morning smooth sailing. You grab your lunch and speed off to the cemetery, eager to get a break from Brandon.

Your usual bench was free, and you took your place to enjoy lunch. Munching on your meal, you take in the sights, finding a serenity in the quiet. The sun shined brightly, causing some of the glossier headstones to reflect the rays. You hum to yourself and scan over the graveyard. To your surprise, you spotted someone in the far corner opposite you. Your brows furrowed, perplexed by the other. You watched the figure, curious of what they’re doing.

They wandered from gravestone to gravestone, kicking at the earth with hands stuffed into pockets. The build of the figure suggested a man, and one dressed in monochrome. You squint your eyes at them making sure you weren’t mistaken; but no, that was the same bizarre suit you saw a man wearing the day prior.

You keep your gaze fixed on him, wanting to figure out why he might be here a second day in a row visiting completely different graves. Did the man simply like to visit graveyards and have a limited wardrobe? If so, you didn’t want to comment on the matter out of fear of shattering the glass house.

You ate lunch with glances at the man. You wanted to piece together why he might be there. He wasn’t mourning; he moved from one grave to the next as if searching for something. The man in the weird suit went down one row of graves, heading away from you, only to hit the end and turn back for the next row.

You forced yourself to not look at him for fear of getting caught. But your curiosity burned, and you chanced a look up. He didn’t notice you, too engrossed in whatever he was doing. Embolden by that, you continue to munch away at your food and sneak glances at him. That is, until you swallowed wrong and went into a coughing fit.

You got your breathing under control a minute later and checked to see if he noticed. And oh boy, did he notice. The man was staring straight at you. It was awkward enough to get caught looking, but you noticed the man closing the gap between you two. He was still at the far end with well over two hundred feet between you, but you didn’t want to stick around and have that plummet to single digits.

Nope. You scoop up your belongings and speed-walk straight back to the store. You didn’t even chance a look behind you. Eyes forward and keep moving. You weren’t sure if he was actually still following; you didn’t hear any footsteps behind you. So that seemed like a good sign.

You blew past the door, bell violently chiming, and you made a beeline for the back. Your heart pounded against your ribs, wanting to break free and make a run for it. You take quick breaths, forcing the next to be longer than the last to get yourself to calm down. In the middle of collecting yourself, Mr. Turner walked into the back area with worry knitted on his brow.

“Cass, you alright? What’s wrong?”

“Is there a man in a striped suit in the store?”

He gave you a puzzled look, but left to do a sweep of the store. He came back half a minute later, shaking his head. “No, no one’s in the store dressed like that. What happened?”

“Nothing really. I just saw him in the cemetery and it looked like he was starting to follow me.”

He frowned. “Well, you just come to me if any creep is giving you a hard time. I’ll knock his teeth out for you.”

You manage a smile and nod. You take a few more breaths to calm down before you grab your apron. Things were going to be okay. The guy might not have even seen what store you went into. Heck, that guy probably didn’t even leave the cemetery. And even if he did, Mr. Turner was there to help you out of a tight spot. You smile a little brighter and step out onto the sales floor where you see the stripe suit guy looking at paint chips.

A strangled scream catches in your throat. You step back, dipping back into the employee’s only area of the store before he could see you. What the Hell were you going to do now? You couldn’t hide back there all day.

You push aside the fabric curtain dividing the sales floor from the back, and get a look at the man. With him much closer, you could see his green hair and the distressed look of his suit. He leaned forward, looking over the paint colors. Maybe he didn’t know you were back there. If so, you could wait in the back for a few minutes for him to just leave.

You close the curtain and slip your hands into your apron pockets. Your fingers brush over cool metal, and your thumb flicks up the slider on the side. It wasn’t much, but it was certainly better than nothing. Box cutter in hand, you look back out.

The stranger stayed put in front of the paint colors. You take a shallow breath, prepping yourself to go out. In the middle of psyching yourself up, you see Brandon wander over to the paint section. Hope bubbles up in you. The new guy can take care of him for you.

Brandon scanned over the section. He pushed down some color chips, looked over the desk before looking your way.

“Art! There you are.”

Brandon’s voice bellowed in the small store, not only earning a squeak from you but also causing the stranger to turn and look. You yank the curtain closed, hoping the man in the monochrome stripes didn’t get a good look at you.

Brandon parted the curtain a moment later and looked you over with knit brows and lips in a thin line. “Art, what are you doing back here? I don’t think it looks very professional for an employee to skulk around in the back all day.”

“The guy over at paint followed me from the cemetery.”

Brandon raised a brow at you. “There aren’t any customers in the store, and certainly not in paint, I would have seen them.” He pulled open the curtain with a flourish to reveal the man standing just on the other side. “See, no one’s there.”

Your eyes dart between the idiot holding back the curtain and the green-haired man tilting his head some with a grin plastered on his face. Thought processing came to a crawl as you tried making sense of what you were seeing. Your gaze lands on Brandon in the end.

“You don’t see anyone there?”

He rolled his eyes and looked back out to the sales floor. He then looked back at you with brows knitted further. “No, there’s no one there, Artemis. Perhaps you should stop taking your lunches in the cemetery if they’re just going to put scary thoughts in your head.”

Brandon frowned at you before stepping out onto the sales floor, going right through the man in the striped suit. He stopped to shiver, only to keep walking a second later. Once he left, your wide eyes landed on the man still standing there, still grinning and showing off sharp yellowed teeth.

“Hi there!”

Nope. Nope nope nope. You grab your box cutter and pull it out to point at the guy. And without a word you push aside the curtain more and go around the man. The man whined at your action and followed you.

“Come on babes! Don’t ignore me, I know you can see me!”

You keep walking, heading straight for Mr. Turner. He turns to you at your approach and the small smile fades from his face. “Cass? What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

The gravelly laugh behind you sent shivers down your spine. You did your best to shake off the feeling and forced a smile.

“I’m not feeling too good. I was hoping I could go home early today.”

His lips sink further into a frown, but he gave you a nod. “It’s fine by me. But what about that man you were talking about that followed you from the cemetery? Are you going to be okay?”

The man behind you continued to laugh. You tighten your hands into fists, the metal of the box cutter pressing hard into the flesh of your hand.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay Mr. Turner. See you tomorrow.”

He nodded, and you handed over your apron while keeping the box cutter in hand. You offer one last quick goodbye and head out the door, the bell only chiming once. You march down the sidewalk and hear the strange man continuing to talk.

“So, babes, where are we heading?”

You pause at your car door. You take a few quick breaths and finally respond to this... person. “I’m going home. I’m obviously not feeling well and seeing things that aren’t there.”

You slip into your car and promptly lock all the doors. You heave a sigh and lean against the steering wheel as your brain sorts through all this nonsense. A groan rumbles in your throat and you lean back in your seat. In your peripheral, the man in the striped suit sat in your passenger seat sporting a sharp grin. Well shit.

[skyguy-snips]

Chapter 5: The Simulator

Book 1: Aftermath

Words: 1066

Masterlist | Tag List Request

Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

“For a battle simulation. Admiral Tarkin has requested to see more of your squad in action, minus the girl,” the trooper said, bucket nodding towards her. She knew she should be somewhat offended, but she wasn’t exactly favored by the Kaminoans anyway. She would happily sit this one out.

“Then we are not being reprimanded?” Tech clarified, stepping forward a bit. The Guard shook his head.

“No, you’re being tested. Now go gear up.”

Hunter turned to Skylar, nodding back down the hall.

“Head back to the barracks, we’ll come see you after,” he said, watching her nod before walking down the hall.

She was laying in her bed, holding Lula and letting her mind wander when the door swished open, Wrecker storming in with the others in tow and throwing his helmet on the table.

“Live rounds? They used live rounds? On us?” Wrecker yelled, slamming his hands on the table. Skylar jumped up, moving towards the group. She immediately noticed the scorch mark on Wrecker’s chest plate near his shoulder, and winced.

“We were there, Wrecker. We know,” Tech replied, his irritation evident. Skylar moved to sit Wrecker down, reaching for his chest plate so she could look at his wound. He paid her no mind, watching his brothers.

“Sky and I tried to warn you about Tarkin,” Echo said, sounding more than exhausted. Wrecker pushed her hands away roughly in his frustration, causing her to stumble a bit. He then turned, his brow furrowed.

“Who does that imperial snake think he is,” he growled, before Crosshair made a comment.

“Stow it, already. You got shot. It happens all the time,” he said, paying no attention to the glare Skylar was sending his way. He was showing absolutely no compassion for his brothers. Typically, he would have quietly offered to look at the wound and clean it, wanting to help. This was beyond strange.

“There’s a difference between taking fire in battle and being used for target practice,” Skylar said, meeting Crosshair’s stare with her own.

“Exactly,” Wrecker chimed in, “we’re not dummy droids.” Suddenly, they were interrupted.

“That much we agree on,” Tarkin said, stepping into the doorway. Their squad paused for a moment, before falling into order. Skylar stood between Wrecker and Crosshair, shoulder to shoulder.

“That was quite an impressive display,” Tarkin continued, walking between them with a judging eye.

“Didn’t have much choice,” Hunter shot back, catching the warning look Skylar gave him when Tarkin’s back was turned.

“Our new empire may have methods which seem a bit unorthodox, but so does this squadron,” Tarkin said, “Both certainly have their merits, although I’m not sure I see the appeal of you five dealing with a simple strategist on your missions. A droid would be much more efficient.” He cast a glance at Skylar, quirking an eyebrow. Her gaze dropped, his words digging at her.

“Nala Se speaks quite highly of her five enhanced clones. She claims you’re more capable than an army,” he continued, looking at Wrecker.

“You have a mission for us, sir?” Hunter asked, unsure of the reason Tarkin had come to them.

“Indeed. We have tracked a group of insurgents to the Onderon sector. They must be dealt with,” he said, moving back towards Hunter.

“What sort of insurgents?” Echo asked, leaning a bit towards Hunter.

“Separatist forces intent on keeping the galaxy at war,” Tarkin answered. “If you neutralize this grave threat, you will be looked upon most favorably as I assess the needs of the Imperial Army.”

With that, he turned and left, the group watching silently. Skylar turned to them with a frown on her face. She was quiet for a long moment, Tarkin’s words biting at her, before slowly turning to Wrecker.

“C’mere big guy, let me take a look at that blaster wound,” she mumbled, leading him over to his bed as she grabbed a medpac. He popped off his chest plate, and then a full arm of his gear, wincing as he tried to pull his sleeve off.

“You know we like having you on missions with us, right tiny? A droid could never replace you,” he said, holding out his arm for her to help him. She gave him a small smile, pulling the bottom of his sleeve until his arm was free and she could access the wound.

“Thanks, Wreck. I like being there with you guys,” she mumbled, examining the injury. The armor had mostly protected him, nothing other than a small singe and some serious bruising. She turned, grabbing a bacta patch to place over it. Wrecker gave her a smile as she worked, shrugging his blacks back on when she was done.

“He’s right, Sky. He had no right to say that about you, you’re a part of this squad as much as any of us. Half of us would probably be dead if it weren’t for you,” Echo said, crossing his arms over his chest. The others nodded, and she gave them a grateful smile as she stepped to the side to let Wrecker put his gear back on.

The rest of them gathered their things, Skylar sifting through her different devices and medical equipment to make sure she was ready. There was a ping on Hunter’s datapad, and she watched as he read it, his brow furrowing before he glanced at her.

“What is it?” she asked, standing from her spot by the table to walk over.

“Tarkin sent the full mission briefing. It… specifically states that you aren’t allowed to go with us to Onderon,” he said, watching her face screw up in confusion.

“What the hell?” she exclaimed. “Why does this guy have it out for me? I’ve done more for this galaxy than he could ever dream of doing, and this is how he repays me? Sidelining me?”

“It will be a simple mission, we will be back before you know it,” Tech said, glancing up at her with a smile. She just huffed, walking over to the window and watching the rain fall. She felt someone come up next to her, and turned to see Crosshair. He stood quietly for a moment, hesitating, before he spoke.

“It’ll be weird without you there, Skylar. We don’t work as well when we’re missing a part of our squad,” he said, a small smile on his face as he glanced over at her. She relaxed a bit, glad to see that the Crosshair she remembered was shining through.

“I’ll miss you guys, Cross. Just be careful and watch their backs for me,” she replied, smiling as he patted her armored shoulder and turned to finish his packing.

They all headed towards the door, calling out goodbyes as they went. It was strangely silent all of a sudden, the only noise being the rain and occasional thunder from outside.

Well, she wasn’t just going to sit around for who knows how long. She grabbed her helmet, tucking it under her arm before setting out to wander the halls.

[bee-kathony]

Embracing the darkness | Alina & the Darkling

"Alina," he said, and I could see that he was fighting with himself, "can I come to you tonight?"

What should have happened if the Darkling visited Alina that night after the party.

The sound of the party carried all the way to my room. I had mingled for another hour, trying to appear as if nothing had just occurred. As if I had not just kissed the Darkling. As if my whole world had not just changed.

My fingers touched my lips softly, remembering the warmth he had radiated. His hands wrapped around my body lit a spark in me. The rush of adrenaline hadn’t left my system, and the only thing I could do now was pace back and forth. The Darkling had asked to come to my room. But I’d given no straight answer before he disappeared.

Would he even come?

I wasn’t sure if I even wanted him to come. I knew that if he showed up outside of my door, I would be unable to resist him. I should want to push him away — run from him, and find someplace safe. But every cell in my body ached for him. Resisting was futile, because in the end, I would always give in.

Never in my life had I felt more wanted than in his presence. The way he looked at me, like I was the most precious sight he’d ever seen. The Darkling also looked as if it pained him to be near me. It was as if he was fighting something within himself. Making a choice whether or not to allow himself to feel.

Pacing was doing me no good, and so I crossed the large room and peered out the window. People were outside in small groups, lingering. I knew that no one would miss my presence at the party. I had a nice time, I could admit that much at least. However, I did feel like I was playing pretend, and then come morning I would wake up back in reality — a poor girl from Ravka.

The Darkling could have anyone, so why did he kiss me?

If he did come to my room tonight, what would he do? Laugh at my inexperience? Or worse, force me to do something I didn’t want to.

A small laugh left my lips. As if I wouldn’t do anything he said. His power over me was overwhelming. Much as I tried to fight it, it was there. Lurking under my skin. One word from the Darkling and I would be on my knees.

My heart began to race as I thought about the way he would take me in his arms, and press his lips to mine once again.

I wanted him. More than anything.

For years, I had thought about having my first sexual experience with Mal, but it was clear now that he wanted nothing to do with me. Those were just silly fantasies. Of course, the visions I was having now of myself and the Darkling were fantasies, but I hoped they would soon become reality.

Time continued to pass, and as I looked at the clock, I realized another hour had passed. If he wanted to come to my room tonight, then surely he would have come already.

I sighed and walked over to my bed. There was no way I was going to get out of my dress without help, so I resigned to sleeping in it. My feet ached after a long day, and I knew that tomorrow I would go back to training. As I climbed into bed, I tried not to think about the Darkling. I tried not to think about what he was doing at this very moment, or possibly who he was doing it with.

In moments, I was asleep, dreaming of warm embraces and kisses in dark corridors.

++++++

“Alina,” someone whispered and I jolted upright in bed.

The room was covered in darkness, with only a sliver of pale moonlight shining at the end of my bed. A tall figure stood there, and it took everything in me not to scream. Was it him? Had he finally come? Or was this someone else and I was about to be murdered?

I drew forth the light from within me and let it rest in the palm of my hand, illuminating the figure.

“Did I startle you?” The Darkling said quietly, smirking as he bent his head. “That wasn’t my intention, Alina.”

“Don’t you know to knock on a person’s room before entering?”

He had the good sense to look ashamed, but only slightly. The light emanating from my hand cast a soft glow to his features, and he looked younger… warmer. The Darkling came around to sit on the side of my bed, his hand reaching out to touch my cheek.

“I did knock,” he nodded, and then smiled slowly. “But no one answered. I just wanted to see that you were safe.”

See me safe?

“Is that all?” I asked, leaning against his touch, and resting my face in the palm of his hand.

The Darkling sat there quietly, and I began to wonder if he would ever say anything. But then he moved closer, his other hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear.

“I didn’t know if you wanted me to come,” he replied. “Or even if I should.”

“So you broke into my room?” I laughed, my other hand moving to touch his cupping my cheek. I brought his hand to rest in my lap, my fingers lightly stroking his palm.

“Did I really break in though?” He cocked his brow, a smug smile playing on his lips. “You should have locked your doors, Alina. If you didn’t want me to enter.”

I knew he was right. I had even debated whether or not to lock them earlier, but decided against it for this very reason. The Darkling was here, sitting on my bed, our hands touching. He seemed so much softer when it was just the two of us, as if all the pressures of the world instantly faded away.

“Can I ask you something?” I continued to trace mindless patterns on his hand.

“Anything.”

“Why…” I began, then shook my head, feeling foolish for even wondering.

He tilted my head up to look into his eyes. Every time he touched me, I felt a rush of power surge through me. Confidence, and bravery came to me as easily as breathing when I was near him. All the things I never thought I could be.

“Why did you kiss me?” I finally said, watching the emotion play out on his face. First surprise, that I had asked the question, and then puzzlement.

His hand in mine flipped, and his fingers moved slowly to my wrist. A small squeak left my lips as his thumb pressed down lightly, and then continued to move up my arm.

“Which time do you mean?” He grinned, looking outright mischievous.

“Both… I suppose,” I laughed at the absurdity that he had even kissed me at all.

“I’m not entirely sure,” his brows furrowed. A strange look crossed over his face, and I recognized it as insecurity. “All I know is that I wanted to, and that if I didn’t kiss you right then and there…” he trailed off.

His eyes met mine then, their slate color boring into mine. That same urgency that had come between us earlier tonight still lingered. I may not have much experience with what might come next, but I was more than willing.

“Alina?”

My stomach fluttered like a bird’s wings every time he said my name. “Yes?”

“I’m going to kiss you again,” he said matter of factly. Then he was leaning in, his hand caressing my cheek before his lips met mine. The light faded from the room, shrouding us in darkness. A small moan left my lips as his hand slid into my hair, pulling me closer to him. Part of me thought this was all a dream, but I wasn’t clever enough to dream of something this good, this fantastic.

“I want you,” he muttered against my lips. “I don’t understand it.”

“Neither do I,” I sighed, my hands tugging his collar, eager to feel more of him.

He kissed me again, before releasing his grip on me and standing. I knew it wouldn’t last — he had finally come to his senses and would now laugh and leave me.

Instead, he offered me his hand, and I took it.

“I never got a chance to tell you how stunning you look in black,” he smiled as he raised my left arm in the air. Laughter escaped me as he began to twirl me around, the black silk spinning out in all directions. I’d never felt more beautiful.

Suddenly, his arms gathered around me, and he pulled me flush against his chest.

“Why did you send me this black dress?” I asked, peering up into his face.

Indecision flickered in his eyes — the choice of whether or not to tell me the truth. I had suspected it since the start, that this, us, was something neither of us could comprehend. Something powerful, and with care could grow to be something unstoppable.

“I wanted,” his thumb brushed over my bottom lip. “I wanted everyone to know that you belonged with me. That you and I are the same.”

“The same,” I repeated. My head dropped, and I rested it against his chest. That’s when I heard his heart beating, fast and quick like a hummingbird. He was as nervous as I was.

Like calls to like.

“Are you sure you don’t have someone else you’d rather be spending tonight with?” I asked, keeping my head down, unable to meet his intense gaze. His hands slid along my back, and I gasped whenever he began to unbutton my dress.

“Believe it or not,” he smiled. I knew he was smiling even though I couldn’t see his face. “I haven’t done this in a very long time. It’s never felt like this… with anyone, Alina.”

That made me curious, and I moved my head to look at him. His hands paused on the buttons of my dress.

“I’ve never…” I blushed.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Alina.”

As if I could stop him now, with half the buttons of my dress undone. My senses were leaving me, and as his fingers grazed my bare back, I melted against him. I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life.

“I want this,” I nodded, smiling as my hand slid up to the buttons of his black kefta. “I want you.”

Color rose to his cheeks, and the pit of my stomach warmed at the thought that I could bring him happiness. The Darkling terrified me, as he did most people, but that terrifying feeling was also exhilarating. It made me feel alive, and when he bent his head to kiss my neck, I let my emotions takeover.

“Oh, Alina,” he gasped softly and I opened my eyes to see the whole room covered in a soft light. Looking down at my body, I realized that it was me who was glowing — light emitted from me, illuminating the darkness.

The look of awe and wonder on his face filled me with pride. He said he hadn’t given up on me yet, and here in his arms, I felt it. The balance between the light and the dark.

I stepped out of his embrace, looking down at my body still emitting a soft glow. Then, tendrils of black smoke began to dance around me. The Darkling held out one hand, making the smoke wrap around me. The rational side of my mind told me that I should be afraid, but feeling his power around me only encouraged me. I pushed against it, and more light filled the room.

“Take my hand, Alina,” he said, holding it out to me. “Be who you were always meant to be… with me.”

I stood on a precipice, staring at the very man who would change the course of my life forever. As the light continued to glow, I reached out, took his hand and embraced the darkness.

My fingers trembled on the buttons of his kefta, feeling unsure of myself. His hands returned to the buttons of my dress and one by one, I came undone. No man had ever seen me like this, utterly exposed.

“Don’t be afraid,” he smiled, tipping my chin up and then he kissed me gently.

The silk slid from my arms and down my body, leaving me bare before him.

I felt his gaze linger over me, and I wanted to cover myself. Shivers cascaded through my body as he reached out and placed his hand on my chest, just over my heart.

“Are you nervous, Alina?”

I nodded, feeling heat creep into my cheeks. I wanted to be bold, and take what I wanted, but first I would need some help.

The Darkling began to unbutton his kefta, followed by the shirt underneath. My eyes never left his as he removed the rest of his clothing. His hands found mind, interlacing.

“Go ahead,” he smirked. “Have a look.”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” I grinned, but glanced down anyways, eager to see him. His body was lean, and muscular. Strong, and yet covered with small scars here and there. Battle wounds. My eyes traveled further down and settled on the space between his thighs. His cock was — well, it was huge, and I shivered, wondering how it would fit inside me.

“You’re…” I squeezed his hands. “Beautiful.”

He laughed, the sound making my heart race faster.

“That’s not exactly what men want to hear when they’re standing before a woman,” he teased. “But a compliment, nonetheless.”

His head bent and his lips were on mine. My lips parted to welcome his tongue, brushing against mine. Our bodies pressed together, and his length was hard, throbbing near my center. The Darkling slid his hands down my back, all while taking us closer to the bed. My body fell back gently against the soft mattress. He loomed over me, like a hunter stalking it’s prey.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “All mine.”

That thought thrilled me. His. All his. In that moment, I wanted him to possess me completely. I wanted to know him, and for him to know me. Reaching up, I took his hand and placed it over my breast.

His palm squeezed my tender flesh, then he skimmed it over my nipple. It hardened under his touch and he repeated the motion to my other breast. I could tell he was holding himself back, trying to be gentle.

“Please,” I begged, adjusting myself beneath him. This was my first time, but I couldn’t wait any longer.

“Tell me if I hurt you, Alina,” he said, worry creasing his forehead. I nodded, and then gasped as his mouth covered my breast. His tongue flicked out against my nipple. My back arched as he bit down, tugging on the hard bud.

Lightning raced through my veins as his hand moved along my body, down over my stomach until finally resting between my thighs. He was there, lightly touching me, feeling my wetness. His cock was hard on my leg, and I felt him lining up with my center. My body tensed as I prepared for what came next.

“Relax,” he suddenly grinned, moving one hand to stroke my cheek. “It won’t hurt as much if you’re relaxed.”

I took a deep breath, searching his eyes.

“Try to bring light into the room,” he suggested. “Focus on your power.”

His lips moved to my jaw, and down my neck. His length touched my center, and I moaned, parting my legs further. Easily, the light came forth, filling the space around us and creating a bubble of warmth.

“That’s it,” he murmured against my lips and then he was sliding forward, inch by inch. Gasps left my lips as he filled me, and the light continued to grow, only getting brighter.

Once he was fully inside me, he held still, letting me adjust. The Darkling rose above me, his hand cupping my cheek and in that moment, it was as if our souls were uniting, connecting beyond the limits of our world.

Then he moved, strong and powerful in each thrust.

“Oh!”

It hurt, badly at first, but as he continued to push forward, my body eased and soon I was moving my hips. Though he was large, my body welcomed him eagerly. I wrapped my arms around him, wanting him closer.

“You’re so good,” he said softly, repeating my name as he rolled against me. Our bodies slid together. I wrapped one leg around his waist, sighing at the sensation. The light around us shined brighter and stronger.

“More,” I begged, scratching at his back. “More!”

His hips jerked against me, and then his lips claimed mine, fierce in their desire. Our limbs intertwined, and I didn’t know where he ended and I began. Something was building inside of me, growing from the pit of my stomach.

“Alina, Alina,” he breathed my name. I slid one hand onto the back of his head and then I felt tears spring to the corners of my eyes.

I loved him.

This man I barely knew… who’s power should have scared me. I loved him. He moved within, simultaneously ripping me apart and putting me back together. I came undone, crying out as my body began to shake. Intense light filled the room and then a moment later, we were covered in darkness.

The Darkling let out a loud moan, his lips forever saying my name before he crashed on top of me. He cradled me in his arms and I chased that feeling, feeling the light creep up to the surface. I let it overflow until I could once again see his face. Carefully, he rolled onto his side, bringing me with him.

“I’m awfully glad I didn’t lock my door tonight,” I sighed, content.

He chuckled, his fingers smoothing over my cheeks before settling on my shoulder.

“You should probably lock it,” he said, still breathless. “It’s not safe. You never know who might come lurking these dark halls.”

“Like some villain, out to steal a girls virtue?”

Concern splashed over his face, but I wiped it away by placing a kiss to his lips.

“You are no villain,” I said softly. “You are simply a man.”

“Alina,” he sighed. “If only you were right.”

“I am always right.”

His hands pulled me closer to him, and I wondered when he would leave. Earlier at the party, Ivan had told him some important news about the herd. I knew we couldn’t stay like this forever, but I wanted to.

“You are who I say you are,” I spread my palm against his chest.

He was quiet, and his eyes were closed, but I knew he wasn’t asleep, only thinking.

“You make me want to be better, Alina,” he finally said after a long time.

I smiled and kissed him. “Together… we can be anything we want to be.”

The Darkling didn’t leave that night, but stayed holding me until the sun came up. As much as I didn’t want him to leave, we both knew that he needed to slip out of my room before anyone else woke up.

We’d made love twice that night, and my body ached in places I didn’t know existed. My lips still tingled from his touch. And my heart longed to be near him again. From now on, I belonged to him, and he belonged to me.

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 17)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 4359 Warnings: fluff, light angst

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: I know you’re excited for the wedding but we’re not quite there yet. Although I think you’ll be happy about this... mostly. Feedback is always appreciated!

HEY NEIGHBOR PART 16 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

Somehow it was decided that this was a good idea, that Coney Island wouldn’t be so bad on Memorial Day weekend. You were very wrong.

Everyone had the same idea, filling the subways until they were packed as you made the long trip to Brooklyn. What should have taken just over an hour became closer to two because of overcrowding. It was hard to guarantee that eight people would make it onto the same train with all the pushing and shoving of people ensuring that they made it inside before the doors shut.

By the time you arrived everyone was hungry and the mass of people covering the large Boardwalk only added to the frustration you were all feeling. Clint, Steve, Peggy and Bucky wanted Nathan’s hot dogs while you, Natasha and Wanda didn’t. You decided to split up, going down the Boardwalk to another place that was just as crowded but offered something for each of you.

“There’s no place to sit,” Natasha said, looking around as she held a lobster roll in one hand and a beer in the other.

“Ooh, over there,” you said, pointing to a bench across the Boardwalk that was quickly taken before you had the chance to take even one step towards it.

There were a few high top tables that you could stand up in front of so you quickly ran over to an open one before someone else could. Natasha lined up her food on the table, getting the restaurant’s name in the background as she took a picture.

“Clint just texted me. They’re finally about to order.”

“About time,” Wanda said, taking a bite of her sausage and pepper roll. She nudged over her container of fries towards you and Natasha, silently offering them.

“They’re asking if we should meet up with them by the Wonder Wheel.”

“Sounds good to me,” you said while chewing, covering your mouth so pieces of your cheeseburger didn’t spit out.

Despite the crowds this brief moment felt nice, feeling the breeze from the ocean and the warm sun heating your skin. Memorial Day weekend was the unofficial start of summer and that meant you could finally begin your countdown to graduation. You had three months more to go before you would finally reach your goal and it was… scary. Scary and exciting at the same time but you couldn’t wait for that day.

“So Saturday’s the big wedding huh?” Natasha smirked.

You raised your eyebrow, not giving in to the way she looked at you. “Yes it is but we’re getting there Friday and before you say anything our hotel has two beds, okay? Two of them.” you said, sticking two fingers in front of her face.

Natasha mumbled something under her breath that you didn’t bother to decipher. Nothing was going to happen. A little dancing, a little awkward conversation with people you don’t know and that’s it.

“Horses?” Wanda asked you, tilting her head up so you could get a glimpse. Natasha looked confused but held her tongue.

Music filled your ears as you passed a group of people gathered on the Boardwalk watching others dance. It was nice to see everyone let go and enjoy the sunshine.

Wanda kissed Sam as soon as the groups joined up again in contrast to Natasha. “I don’t like hot dog breath,” she said, looking into her bag for gum or a mint to give Clint.

Making a face she didn’t see, he mockingly signed back Natasha’s words making you laugh since you understood him. Bucky held his left palm up, sliding the middle finger of his right hand over it. To your shock you realized he just signed back “rude” to Clint.

Turning towards him you asked, “When did you learn ASL?”

“When someone told me our neighbor signs.” He smiled widely and you suddenly felt light enough for the breeze to carry you away. “C’mon,” Bucky said, nudging his head for you to start walking with the group.

He adjusted the brim of his baseball cap, which was the only difference between your outfits today as Sam pointed out. You and Bucky were basically matching and he thought it was cute that you coordinated even though it wasn’t planned.

You both wore crisp white t-shirts, jeans (though yours were shorts), and converse sneakers. Arguing that you were wearing red sneakers unlike Bucky’s black ones made no difference, everyone still thought it was a very “coupley” thing to do.

As you walked towards the Wonder Wheel you couldn’t help but stare at Bucky's arms. They had gotten much bigger ever since he started working out with Sam and Steve and those muscles definitely stood out now; tanned skin with a prominent vein running down his arm you couldn’t take your eyes off of.

“Swinging cars? Oh no. I’m good,” Sam said as you approached the line.

“Me too. I’ve got a belly full of hot dogs so I’d rather not,” Clint added.

The group split with Sam, Wanda, Clint and Natasha getting in line for the stationary cars as you, Bucky, Peggy and Steve waited for the swinging ones. When it was time to load into your car there were two benches facing forward. Steve and Peggy took the front one and you guys were in the back. Bucky let you enter first and you sat down quickly so the attendant could close the door, adjusting your bag between your legs on the floor.

Steve turned his head around, smiling at you in a way that made you furrow your brows at him but your unspoken communication was interrupted as the ferris wheel began moving backwards. He faced forward again, reaching his arm around Peggy in the cramped space.

The car stopped suddenly but above you was the shadow of another cart and the sounds of screams as it rocked along its own track. Everybody on the stationary cars were missing out, this was going to be fun.

Half a minute went by before the ferris wheel moved again, this time stopping at a point where your car was able to roll forward. You expected the jolt but it didn’t mean you were prepared for it and somehow you found yourself grabbing Bucky by the shoulder as you screamed with laughter as the cart swung back and forth. He didn’t seem to mind, in fact he wished you kept your hand on him the whole time.

He envied Steve holding Peggy close. When the car reached the top he watched them kiss, a small peck to show affection and Bucky was undeniably jealous. Steve had met the perfect girl in Peggy, and Bucky felt the same way about a certain person sitting next to him.

You only accepted his request to be his wedding date because he begged, he’s sure of that. It was so pathetic for him to plead but he really wanted you to go with him, and shamefully, since he knew you had sworn off dating, this was the closest thing he would ever get.

His profile was still up on the apps, and occasionally he would make plans to meet someone. The closer the wedding got, the less frequent it’s been. He’s not proud of the fact that he’s made dates and cancelled them. He tried his best to remember to cancel in advance but sometimes he would forget, becoming lost in the music he was creating, only to find a few messages with choice language he rightfully deserved from the people he didn’t mean to stand up.

Bucky wasn’t interested in any of them, only one person was always on his mind and yet he knew he would have to let that go. Going to the wedding together isn’t going to help his feelings but he hopes by some strange logic he can allow his heart to live out whatever fantasy is not coming true and then let you go.

“You wanna hit the beach now?” Sam asked, once you all got off the Wonder Wheel.

“Yeah, Nat says my ass is pasty,” Clint replied.

Natasha’s nostrils flared as her eyes widened in shock. “You are not tanning your pasty ass on this public beach Clint!”

Laughter rang out and Clint leaned in to peck a kiss to Natasha’s full lips which relaxed her tense expression. Despite all their teasing they loved each other deeply and it made your heart ache, longing to have a love like theirs.

The crowds on the beach hadn’t let up, not that anyone expected them to. Umbrellas of every color of the rainbow were spread out across the sand and it didn’t look like there was even a spot for all of you to fit among the crowd but that didn’t stop anyone.

Your sneakers crunched on the sand scattered along the wood planks by the entrance, grabbing the hot metal railing to pull them off before you walked down onto the beach. Bucky followed suit, holding his sneakers in hand while everyone else left on their flip flops or slip-on.

The sand was burning hot against your soles that also battled against sharp seashells as you trudged your way to a spot, following behind the group. Clint’s impeccable vision pointed out a spot big enough for all of you and rushed over there staking a claim.

Steve shrugged his shoulder down to let the heavy bag he was carrying for Peggy go. She had packed a large bag with towels, sunscreen and a few collapsible umbrellas. Sam helped Steve by setting up the umbrellas as everyone else worked to set their towels down.

Pulling out a large towel you placed your sneakers inside your tote bag, holding it open for Bucky in case he wanted to protect his from the sand as well.

“Hey where’s your stuff?” you wondered out loud as he placed his sneakers inside.

Bucky clenched his teeth together making an adorable face that told you your answer before he gave it. “When you said we were going to Coney Island I didn’t think you meant the actual beach. I figured food and drinks...” he trailed off, still awkwardly grimacing.

“It’s okay. You can share mine,” you offered. Turning away to unravel the towel, you missed the soft smile that settled on his face at the prospect of being close to you.

Bucky helped smooth out the towel, a pretty teal with gold pineapples printed across the fabric. He let a small huff out under his breath, disappointed by the fact that your towel was bigger than he expected and he didn’t have an excuse to be as close as he hoped. The feeling passed just as quickly as Bucky realized how stupid his thoughts were; you were only offering him the towel, it was not an invitation for anything else.

His mental chastising paused from the moment your hands hooked on the waist of your shorts, pulling them down to reveal a bikini. A sexy snakeskin pattern in a mix of steel blue, black with speckles of white that hugged you like a second skin.

Bucky’s mouth fell open as you pulled off your shirt, revealing the matching top and he had to force his gaze away. His cheeks felt hot and with the shade of the umbrella he’s not sure he could use the sun as an excuse for his bright red face.

Sam caught the interaction, raising an eyebrow to Wanda as his mouth pulled into a deep smirk.

“Hey Bucky!” The sound of Sam’s unexpected voice startled Bucky, making him jump slightly as he whipped his head towards him. “What are you wearing man? Jeans? I hope you don’t have a speedo under them.”

Everyone laughed though the sound of your giggling made Bucky ripen like a tomato. With a shaky voice he dismissed Sam’s claim, wishing he had thought this day through and worn board shorts like everyone else.

“You’re not beach ready!” Sam said, crossing his broad, sculpted arms over his chest.

Frustrated by the sound of another innocent giggle that fell from your lips, Bucky pulled off his shirt tossing it aside. “Happy? I’m beach ready!”

The breath was pulled from your lungs leaving you unable to speak, think or do anything other than stare at Bucky. Your eyes scanned his muscular body up and down, as if he had been sculpted by the gods himself.

Your hands longed to touch every ab that was carved into his stomach and when your gaze continued lower you thought you might go feral. The deep cuts on his hips had your mouth watering and without realizing it your tongue had swept across your lips. It wasn’t until Bucky moved to sit down that your focus was broken.

“You look great,” you stated, clearing the nerves away from your throat. Bucky shrugged it off with a modest half smile, unable to fully embrace the compliment coming from you. “No really, I’m actually jealous. How the fuck do you have that body with all the pizza we’ve been eating?”

Your question made him laugh, wrinkling his nose as the smile spread across his face. The tension had eased although you were very aware of Bucky as you laid on the towel, trying not to stare at him like he was a piece of meat and you hadn’t eaten in weeks.

As Sam spoke about an ER case you were happily distracted, even though you were tempted to ogle Bucky every time he shifted beside you, cringing at the gory details. The hours passed quickly as you laid out, relaxing or talking with Peggy as Natasha, Wanda and Sam went into the water. Bucky sat beside Steve and Clint, the three of them laughing at their conversation.

Peggy spoke in a low whisper, “After the way you looked at him today I don’t think you can fool yourself much longer.”

You didn’t respond because there wasn’t much to say. Peggy saw the look in your eyes, the admission of what you both knew was true and the fear that came along with having feelings for him, knowing it wouldn’t go anywhere.

“Anyone want food? I’m gonna get more hot dogs,” Clint said, wiping sand from the back of his shorts as he stood up.

Both your heads shook and he left just as Natasha was coming back. She pulled out another towel to wrap around herself, “He’s getting food?” she asked despite knowing the answer.

Wanda and Sam returned hand in hand, drying off in the still very warm sun and asking about what everyone wanted to do afterwards.

“I’ve never been on the Cyclone before,” Peggy said, looking at Steve as they both silently recalled the story he told her about throwing up after going on it as a kid.

By the time Clint returned he had already eaten the hot dogs he bought, feigning shock to see everyone packing up. Bucky put his shirt back on, slightly wrinkled from the way he tossed it into your bag, and he caught your gaze as you were slipping on your shorts.

He looked away, lifting the towel and shaking the sand off of it. You helped him fold it up to place back in your bag and Bucky kindly removed both pairs of sneakers to avoid an uncomfortable mess.

When you made it to the Boardwalk you leaned against the railing, wiping sand from the bottom of your feet before putting on your shoes. Bucky did the same though he could still feel grains of uncomfortable sand in his socks.

Natasha and Wanda needed to change so you followed them to the bathroom to use it as everyone else waited. By the time you reached the Cyclone you were paired off to sit with Bucky again, not that you minded.

“Hold up,” Sam began, lifting his hand towards Clint, “You’re okay to ride a rollercoaster after eating but not the swinging ferris wheel?”

Clint nodded as he shrugged in response, not knowing how to explain why. Sam rolled his eyes, sharing a confused look with Wanda. They made sure to sit in the back to be far enough behind Clint, just in case.

You and Bucky were cramped together in the padded leather seats of the historic coaster; packed in like sardines and secured even tighter as the lap bar came down.

“It’s squishing my thighs,” Bucky winced, laughing as the ride began; a sharp right turn before the rickety chain began pulling the car up the hill.

Your hands were both in the air as you went down the first drop but quickly you dropped them, holding on to the padded lap bar because despite having no room to move every forceful turn had you pushing against each other.

Screams were present throughout the ride as the coaster went down steep hills and hard turns and in the end you turned towards Bucky, laughing in the pit of your stomach as you saw his hair, loose and wildly covering his face.

He combed through it with his fingers, taming it as best as he could before trying to get himself out of the seat. Once he was free he held a hand out for you to take and that’s when you felt the ache in your thighs. You hissed as you rubbed them, feeling how sore they were from the rough ride.

“Maybe Bucky could rub them for you,” Natasha whispered in your ear as she passed by, laughing, hand in hand with Clint who, defying all laws, did not throw up.

You rolled your eyes and continued to walk, a little painfully as you were still feeling the dull throb from your legs. Passing a few carnival games Steve and Sam eyed each other, their friendly competitive nature carried over from their workouts to now see who could win the bigger prize for their girl.

“Sam, I’m serious, I don’t want a giant teddy bear,” Wanda insisted but Sam couldn’t hear her.

His focus was on the best spot to aim to knock over the six tin cans. He licked his lips, a confident smile spreading across his face. Winding his arm back he let go, leaving all but one can standing.

“Let me show you how it’s done Sammy,” Steve said with swagger, as he paid for his game.

Peggy and Wanda shared a look as she also expressed no interest in a four foot bear. “Honestly, my apartment is small. I can’t have a massive bear taking up space.”

Thankfully Steve’s aim was no better, leaving two cans standing.

“Oh look at that. All those muscles and you can’t knock down more cans than me. Looks like I should be the Captain now,” Sam snickered.

You and Bucky opted for a much more friendly competition playing alongside Clint and Natasha in the water gun game. The four of you sat down on the padded stools, paying for your game and waiting for the round to begin as more people joined. Beside you a small child sat on his knees on the stool, as his mother held onto him and told him what to aim for.

Grabbing the gun you tried to position it towards the target in advance, ignoring Bucky’s comments about how he has the aim of a sniper so he always wins. At the sound of the bell the water turned on and you were an inch off from the center of the target, quickly adjusting and hoping there was some chance you could still win. The prize didn’t matter, but bragging rights certainly did.

“Number eight’s a winner!” the employee resounded.

To your left you saw Bucky’s wide “I told you so” smile, written across his face that now glowed with the flashing blue light above his winning station. Another sound made you turn your head though, the kid next to you that burst out into tears after losing. Your gaze softened as you watched his mother try to comfort him as the employee asked Bucky what color dinosaur plush he would like as his prize.

“Hey buddy,” Bucky said, ignoring the employee for a moment as he knelt down beside the crying child. “Which color’s your favorite?”

With a few sniffles he lifted his head up, tiny curled hands wiping away his tears as he asked for the purple dinosaur. Bucky proudly handed over the plush toy to the now smiling kid, accepting his mother’s thanks as they walked away.

Your heart was swelling with warmth and when Bucky turned around he was met with a soft smile you couldn’t hide. He turned away smiling, trying to hide the dusting of pink he felt forming on his cheeks.

With everyone feeling a little hungry now you followed Steve who knew about a good place a few blocks away. Walking beside Bucky your fingers brushed against his every so lightly making goosebumps ripple up your arm. You wanted to take his hand, lace your fingers together as a small sign to let him know how you felt but you were too scared.

Steve brought you to a small Mexican place that had an enclosed patio, with good music blasting and brightly colored margaritas that everyone around you seemed to have. The guys pushed two circular tables together so you could all sit, looking over the menu of food which you were hungry for but more importantly drinks that you hoped would give you the courage to grab Bucky’s hand.

Your table was with the girls though Bucky was still beside you, squeezing into the other table next to Steve.

“Mmmm nachos, and ohh tacos… I feel like I haven’t eaten in forever. I want them all,” you joked, reading over the menu.

With food on the table and a strawberry margarita in hand you felt great. Today may have been hot and crowded but it was a perfect day spent with your friends.

Natasha stood up, trying to angle a selfie with everyone in it meaning you had to lean back towards Bucky and after your drink you were a little looser, tipping your head backwards to smile at him. Bucky laughed, smiling back at you before Natasha said she was ready.

Bucky moved in closer, resting his chin on your shoulder, his long hair tickled your neck which made you giggle just as Natasha took the picture. He lingered there for longer than he should have before he sat up straight, ignoring the way Sam looked at him.

Somehow everything felt right. Tonight was the night you were going to let Bucky know how you felt. Your hand slowly inched closer to Bucky’s, reaching out for his left hand resting on his thigh. All you had to do was touch it, a light caress by your fingers, just enough to let him know there’s something you want to say without saying it yet.

“Bucky!”

The high pitched voice of a woman calling out to him made your arm jerk back into the safety of your lap.

Bucky turned to see a woman he unfortunately recognized. Whitney, a bartender he had gone on a date with two months ago and ghosted afterwards. She was nice but there weren’t any sparks. He slept with her anyway, regretfully.

With her head cocked to the side and hands on her hips she smirked as she replied. “You were supposed to text me back!”

“Yeah, sorry about that…” Bucky lied.

“That’s not very nice.” She pouted, playfully swatting at his chest. “And after that night we had!”

Bucky forced a tight smile as he looked past her in the hope that she had friends waiting for her. Whitney continued to flirt, at least that’s what Bucky thought by the sound of her voice, the way she purred her words to him even though he wasn’t paying any attention.

Relief flashed in his eyes when another girl stumbled her way towards them, lacing her arm through Whitney’s to pull her away. Bucky had never been happier to see a drunken mess, because this one was saving him from dealing with her.

“Text me sometime, okay Bucky?” Whitney cooed.

“Uh yeah yeah, sure. It was nice seeing you.” Bucky responded quickly, barely hearing what she had even said.

Before he could turn to sit back down Whitney grabbed him by the collar and pressed her lips against his. You turned away, finding solace in your drink, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

Bucky contemplated if wiping his lips would be too childish even if it’s what he honestly felt like doing. He sat down again, embarrassed that everyone had to witness that.

“So…” Sam began, breaking the ice, “Another hook up huh?”

“What? No. I… No that’s nothing going to happen. Not with her.”

Sam scoffed. “Oh so some other girl then? Have you ever tried actually dating one person?”

Steve blinked a few times at Sam’s candid question even if he agreed with the sentiment. After all this time he still didn’t understand why Bucky was so averse to dating.

“It’s just that…” Bucky started before he let out a grunting sigh.

From the corner of his eye Bucky saw your head turn ever so slightly to listen in. His cheeks began to match your margarita and he knew he couldn’t answer Steve honestly, not when he wanted to have this conversation with you in private. He hates the reputation he’s built up for himself, desperately wanting to be the great boyfriend you once thought he could be.

Bucky shrugged off the question, taking a sip of his drink instead. When his glass hits the table he looks towards you and your eyes meet for a second. His smile seems fake and you know why. He’s holding back from answering the truth because you know he probably wants to have an explicit conversation about all the girls he’s fucked, bragging about every dirty detail to the guys but he can’t because you’re there.

The rest of the night was a blur as all you could think about was how to let go of your feelings because you could never be in a relationship with Bucky.

PART 18

[evakuality]

Mia, episode five

1.  One thing Druck is super good at is these aesthetic shots.  This whole opening bit reminds me of the scene with Amira when she’s praying in her room.  Lots of beautiful shots of the room, curtains and stuff, which are just super pretty with a few hints of colour.  I dunno, this is just an aesthetic I like and I appreciate that Druck caters to me.  Mia is so cute, too!  Like both the way she looks and also how kind she is.  She still doesn’t really like Alex a lot (though you could see in that montage from the previous night that she’s warming up to him) but she still feels like she should leave things looking nice.  These little post-it notes are sort of cute too, and you can see that she thinks they’re sweet.  I don’t like this Bjorn though.

2.  Interesting that we get a clip specifically one week later.  I have no idea how that must have felt while this was live, and I’m really glad that I didn’t have to live through these long gaps in any of the things I did watch in real time.  This one was reasonably low key though, so maybe the wait wasn’t as agonising.  If you didn’t know who Bjorn is (I’m assuming the Niko character) then nothing in the last couple of clips would have felt all that alarming.  But Mia’s so flirty here - that one conversation at his house must have really charmed her.  Pity we didn’t really get to hear a lot of it because he still hasn’t charmed me!!  And actually that ‘show a montage of how things are going while a song and/or other conversation plays overtop’ is a huge thing Druck does, I think.  I feel like in some cases (Matteo and David after their first pool kiss moment, for example, or Hanna and Jonas breaking up) work quite well.  But here, I think we needed to hear more of Alex to actually believe that Mia would be this flirty with him.  For me, this is too big a turnaround from her very cold manner with him at the piano and an actual proper look at that conversation might have helped.  But also, I am super biased because William and so maybe a more reasonable person might like it okay.  This bit with Linn is weird.  Genuinely creepy, and I’m not sure why they’re setting her up to feel like this.  Maybe some sort of hint of the creepiness to come with Bjorn (I’m assuming it’s coming, anyway).

3.  I don’t get this bit with all the pictures at the school.  I assume it will become obvious later but I’m not sure what exactly they were trying to do with this.  You’d think they run the risk of having the whole Abi chaker clan thing shut down - if this happened in my school there’d be so much trouble.  A groups of kids once put post-its all over one teacher’s room and they got in SO much trouble for it, and that wasn’t obscene like this is.  This thing here seems so targeted at the Abi thing, using their plan specifically, that it feels like someone outside the group wants them not to be allowed to run their theme.  Or someone in the group who wants a different motto maybe.  I don’t know, but it feels very mean and very specifically directed at this group of people.

4.  Hmmm, I’m with Leonie on this one.  I’d be giving Carlos the super evil stare too.  It may be ‘funny’ to some of these people, but given that there are younger kids at this school (I assume, right?  They still have classes running for the smaller ones at the end of Matteo’s season, allowing their prank to go ahead) this is sure to go down really badly with the school itself.  I’m rolling my eyes at the ones who are outraged that the school is considering reporting it - what did they expect?  Also, surely they can figure out who was doing it - people were literally throwing handfuls of the pictures over the stairs.  Surely they could work out who it is.  It’s pretty clear that Alex still thinks this is funny and I’m losing patience with him.  Every time it seems like maybe he’s getting less gross he goes and acts like this again.  Bleh.  I’m not often rooting for Leonie and feeling for her, but wow today I really am.  This is shitty and she has a right to be angry.

5.  Ew, Alex, why are you stalking Mia again?  She’s made it pretty clear she’s not happy with you.  Turning up out of the blue like a creep isn’t a good way to go about winning her over again.  His ‘we were drunk, what can you do?’ is so... stupid???  They’ve lost money from this, the school is really angry, they could easily have some pretty bad consequences and he’s all ‘meh, it was a drunken prank’?  I know money isn’t an issue for him, but there are issues here beyond the money.  I’m also kind of annoyed that everyone keeps suggesting she’s upset because she’s jealous.  I’ll be really annoyed if the show carries on this way - this isn’t just a silly little prank, and people have every right to be angry and annoyed.  Diminishing it to jealousy isn’t cool.  Is Leonie also jealous?  The people who are angry and upset they’re being blamed and their money has been taken?

6.  I do love scenes where the whole girl squad is together.  They make me happy and I miss seeing them together so much.  But OMG, Alex is blackmailing Mia again????  I mean I guess it worked the first time so why wouldn’t he?  But this is seriously shitty behaviour.  Honestly, in clip one I was mildly starting to warm to him with the post-its and all, but he’s managed to speed run right back into ‘asshole’ category.  This was the problem in the og as well - William was such an asshole, that in order to make him likeable, we had to see a much more genuinely villainous character.  Alex is still super dislikeable and so we need someone ‘worse’ to make him look palatable, which I assume is coming.  We’re halfway through - we should like him by now.  I dunno.  Maybe some people do?  But he still has done nothing to make me think he’s nice or someone who Mia might be attracted to.

7.  Oh a long Friday clip?  Almost half the episode?  I guess it’s going to be a rough one for Mia then.  More reflections again - her whole face in the mirror now, but it’s surrounded by graffiti.  I’m always fascinated by the way mirrors and reflections work, and it’s fun to see Mia slightly obscured in her mirrors even now.  It’s not as disjointed as it was at the start but it’s not a fully clear reflection either.  I may not like the way Noora/Mia’s story goes but I do like some of these things which show the progress.

8.  I feel kind of sorry for Jonas, because that break up wasn’t his choice.  But seriously, he seems to be blaming this on Hanna a bit and like ????? He chose to make her feel small and unworthy through her whole season.  She’s allowed to try to figure herself out outside of him and his wants and needs.  Eh, I know he’s hurting and all, but that’s actually his issue and he shouldn’t be pushing it on her.

9.  This scene with Mia and Alex bothers me.  He still seems to have no idea why she might find his actions (selfish and self-serving and filled with blackmail) offputting.  ‘I fixed it, so we should totally be together now’ is such an immature and childish take on this.  These types of guys need to grow up and learn that they can’t just buy and/or coerce their way into whatever they want.  I like the way they decide to have Kiki walk past just as Mia has to choose whether to say she doesn’t want Alex or not.  It adds a poignancy to it and Mia obviously chooses to stick by her friends.  I do wish it felt more conflicting, like if Alex genuinely had changed or had shown he has depth or something it would be a bigger ‘wow she’s rejecting him for her friend’ but instead he’s still such an unpleasant character that I don’t care.

10.  I’m not sure why Mia does the brushing off of the makeup - I feel like it made more sense when Noora did it (I mean I watched it once a very long time ago so who knows, but my memory is that it was her way of trying to reject being ‘pretty’ and having guys liking her because it was messing her up).  With Mia, I don’t understand.  Someone help me out?

11.  I still don’t get what Mia sees in Alex.  Again, I know I have a really big bias against him because of William and I know it was always going to be tough for him to be someone I care about.  But even so, this feels like a huge whiplash when she says of course she likes him.  I’d get it if we’d seen any of his development, but every time he took a mini step forward he shoved himself right back into dislikeable territory.  Once again, I mourn the actual conversation between Mia and Alex.  This all feels far too fast, and the fact that this is suggesting his blackmail is all good is very worrying.  All the post-it notes in the world can’t make me think he’s nice enough to want to kiss.

Overall, I didn’t really like this one.  I feel like the pacing is still off; I don’t believe the speed at which Mia has fallen for him and honestly it hasn’t been very long since Kiki was with Alex and had her heart broken.  The fact that Mia even saw her and told him she doesn’t like him only to turn around immediately and change her mind is strange to me.  Mia has always come across as a caring person who tries to do the right thing and help out her friends.  That she has apparently no qualms at this point is difficult for me.  They’re acting the hell out of this, but I can’t buy it.  Unfortunately.  Sadly, because this is based on a very flawed original, I don’t think it’s going to make me enjoy these two.  There are things that I’m interested in seeing as we go forward but most of those have zero to do with Alex.

[hpdabbles]

MORE ADAMS FAMILY ADOPT HARRY

The first day of term is always a hectic one. Just getting the children onto the train could be a headache and a half, especially when herding muggle-born and their families who stop to stare at anything randomly. 

The conductor has been working this job for over thirty years, had seen lots of young faces come and go, strange, different, and magical. He experienced a lot through the years, have lived with the war was at it’s peak, and counted the children who disappeared never to be seen again on the along the tracks. 

He has watch children , laugh, cry, scream, and run about as the train loaded for the trip. He’s good at his job, can get the trip done on time every time and had most of the work down to a art form. There has been trails and tribulations but he’s survived them all. 

 But nothing could prepare him for the day the Addams crossed the barrier.

At first he thought them a average magical family, the mother in a fabulous tight black dress, that played homage to robes at the edges and while the father looked more muggle he had a eye catching grin, that almost made up for it. The three children with them were all dress in black of different shades, the little girl in a black dress with her hair down in interesting loop braids. The youngest seems to be the boy in a white stripped shirt the only other color on him and the oldest- who most likely was the first year- wore a long trench coat with a fedora.

The family of five moved with a grace that screamed aristocrats, charm in each of their steps, but the conductor could not pin point the family line they came from. He watched as the children eyed everyone there, the eldest with a smile that held his father’s charm and cutting edge while the young girl seemed unimpressed with everyone around her.

The eldest pulled out the informative parchment Hogwarts gives muggle-borns families every year- explaining how to write letters, where to do, what the train entitles the likes- for his parents. The three bend over the parchment talking among themselves as the young girl  walked around looking at the train with a almost detached interest. 

The conductor couldn’t take his eyes off them, because while they seemed magical they also didn’t seem like they were around wizards or witches often. 

As he was watching them he took notice that the youngest boy was playing with something and it came to a great alarm that thing, turn out to be a dagger that he passed between his hands. His parents didn’t notice as the young male turn around, thus keeping it out of their sight, twirling it back and forth while watching bystanders as if though he was picking a victim from the crowd to sink the blade into. 

The conductor couldn’t allow that to happen. He was walking in their direction before he realized it.  “Excuse me sir! Your boy is playing with a knife! He could cut his finger off!”

The man looked up form the parchment but instead of scolding the boy he smiled fondly. It had a hint of madness that had the worker feel slightly off-footed.  “Yes. My Pugsley is quite good with the blade, he can cut a finger nail clean off. He wanted to bring his machete, but I had to talk him down and remind him this is Harry’s big day. Gomez Addams, a pleasure to meet you, good sir.”

He held out his hand and the conductor had no choice but to take it. The strange man shook it with a firm grasp. He gestured to the woman who offered her own smile, and the red of her lips stood out on her deathly pale skin.  “My wife, light of my bleak empty life, Morticia.”

“Oh Gomez” The woman sighs in a lovely accent  that he can’t identify,placing her hand on his shoulder in a act of utter devotion. It made the conductor feel slightly envious. A perfect marriage is something that has escape him through the years.  

“And this here, is Harry, my eldest and soon to be student of Hogwarts.” He pats the shoulder of the boy with the fedora, his Spanish accent making the words honey.  One green eye peaks up at him from around the brim and the boy offers him a wink and a smirk. “ My daughter Wednesday and Pugsley is the lad with the knife. They are terrible vile monsters who I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy.”

The conductor wasn’t sure what to make of a man who spoke in such loving tones but used such hateful words. “It’s...a pleasure? My name is John.”

“I once knew a man named John. He died screaming.” Gomez says with a eager smile and John finds himself taking a step back. He been a conductor for years, with some parents screaming in his face, demanding special treatment for the children who would be Heirs to noble and ancient house and never had he ever felt more terrified for his life then at that moment. 

Suddenly Harry stepped forward, taking the burned of having to say anything back to the obvious mad man.  “Dad, I have to get onboard, the train leaves in three minutes and I haven’t even found a seat.”

Morticia let out a sigh, reaching down to bring the child into a hug. The black of their clothing matching as she brushed his hair under his hat. “You will write to us won’t you? Keep us updated on everything. Try your best in class?”

“Yes, Mom” Harry said in a strange accent. Unlike his parents he sounded less like he grew up in a foreign language  and land but there is still hint of it in the way he says Mum. “I want to make lots of friends too.”

Morticia smile turns slightly strain but then it evens out and she hugs him tight her arms wrapping him all around his back.  “Of course you will. Get going now.”

“Have a lovely time Harry.” Gomez says stepping forward to hug the boy as well, with the same amount of arms as his wife, which surprises John. Most fathers only do side hugs and they are fleeting, but the way Harry leans into the touch with a smile has something in John warming.

Not many children get to experience such loving parents.  

“Try not to let them make you too....normal while your there, Harry” Wednesday comments stepping up to her brother who laughs after letting go of his father and pulls her in a hug of her own. She makes a face but she returns it either way, and despite the lack of emotion in her expression John gets the sense she is relishing in her brother’s embrace.  

“I’m already normal. Will you love me even though I am?” Harry asks and Wednesday is quick to agree, claiming he is her brother and it matters little anything else besides that. John thinks it adorable though he can’t help but wonder what do they mean with normal?

“Bye Harry! Blow something up and send me the scabs!” Pugsley chirps, going for his own hug which Harry easily accepts. The two brothers lean from side to side during their hug in a strange but excited hug and the fedora wearing one laughs loudly. 

“I don’t like scabs, you know that. Would a toilet seat be alright? I promise to drop one of your bombs in it and send you the pieces left over.”

Pugsley beams like a star in the darkest of nights, jumping around in a circle and cheering. He’s acting like Harry offered his old racing broom. 

John slowly backs away from the odd family, Gomez sees the actions calling out. “Have horrible day John!” as he makes a run back to the front and get the train going.

It’s much later, that he finds out Harry in the black fedora is Harry Potter  and the most famous boy in the magic world has been adopted by the Addams Family, who have been known to mingle with some of the darkest of people. Rumors where one of them used to sleep with one of the Slytherin heir, learning Parseltongue and had been killed by a group of muggles who beheaded him for it.

The family is known in MCUSA for always tip toeing their laws, close to breaking them but never being caught and could be considered the American version of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, madness and all. 

Harry Potter also prefers to go by Harry Addams Potter and bad things tend to happen to any of his classmates who don’t seem to understand that. If a boy who was able to kill a Dark Lord at the age of one is powerful, John shudders to think what Harry raised by blood thirsty evil Addams will accomplish.

He hears from one of his nieces that one of accomplishment is actually Harry overflooding all the female bathrooms until every female who ever participated in throwing books at Moaning Myrtle apologizes to the ghost. The boy somehow makes a point of letting them know he did it without a any proof to get him expelled. 

His niece then proceeds to gush about Harry Addams Potter scaring some of his Slytherin housemates into leaving the Hufflepuffs alone, and that his “Dreamy in a scary way” which John doesn’t know what that even means.

[geekywritings]

JUNGKOOK X READER PART 2 - Is this real life or am I in a drama?

Part 2 of my little Jungkook x Reader story. For all who need a recap of Part 1: You are a young vet, just trying to make your way home from work when suddenly Jungkook falls right into your car, taking refuge from a group of sasaengs. You give him a ride home and he exchanges contact details with you, promising to stay in touch.

The prompt for part 2 is: “It’s pouring rain, why are you here?”

For the next few days, all you could think about was that meeting. It still seemed so very surreal. And you didn’t even dare tell anyone about the incident, because who would really believe you? Even your best friends and work colleagues would just raise and eyebrow and shake their heads most likely. Such things simply didn’t happen to people. They were part of k-drama scripts or popular web toons and after a week, you did start to wonder if it had all been some kind of strange dream.

But exactly that evening, when you had just come out of the shower to enjoy a cup of tea and a new episode of your favourite show, your phone beeped with a new Kakao Talk message. You gave your phone a lazy glance and then almost dropped your mug when you saw it was from none other than Jungkook.

JK: “I’m sorry for the late reply, Miss Vet. Things got kinda hectic. But I have not forgotten my promise. I still owe you that thank you.”

You had to reread that message a few times and for a second you wondered if it was a scam perhaps, but who else would now about that event but him? For a second you wondered what to answer before typing:

Y/N: “No problem. You are an idol after all. And you did already thank me.”

It took only a few seconds until his answer popped up.

JK: “It still doesn’t feel like enough.”

Wow, did he know how cool that sounded? 

Y/N: “You don’t have to worry. Really. I’m glad I could help.”

This time he took a bit longer to reply.

JK: “Do you like flowers?”

Y/N: “Yes of course. Who doesn’t?”

JK: “Which ones are your favourites?”

That one was harder to answer. You liked quite a few and just named them all, allowing him to make the final choice.

JK: “Great. Can I send them to your workplace? I don’t think florists deliver late in the evening.”

It was sweet that he was so dead set on sending you flowers as a proper thank you and while part of you was delighted, the other part wondered how to explain the bouquet to your colleagues at the vet office. Still, you typed in your adress and sent it out. 

From then on you thought the conversation would end, but apparently Jungkook was in a talkative mood. He revealed that he had a free evening and was just relaxing on the couch with a good meal, before asking you what you were up to. You told him about the drama and he suggested watching at the same time, sharing comments through text. 

You had never done anything like it before, least of all with a stranger, but Jungkook seemed so nice and it didn’t feel so intimidating to write with an idol over messages. And after the first few shared comments, you actually started to really enjoy it. You two ended up talking throughout the entire episode, which was almost an hour long and then even half an hour on top until Jungkook announced that he was heading to bed. Noticing the time, you realized it was time to hit the pillows yourself. 

But as you laid there in your bed, you kept reading through the chat history, as if making sure it was still real. Especially that “Goog Night” with the cute little emoji brought a smile to your face, before you finally turned off the night light.

____

For the next two weeks, he kept writing texts every other day. Sometimes it was just a random “How are you?” or a comment to your recently posted Kakao Story that he didn’t dare post publicly. But sometimes he would ask if you were watching that drama again to share comments in real time. It had become kind of a ritual when the third week started and a day without his messages felt weird. You still couldn’t tell anyone about it, but your friends and colleagues did start noticing your smiles and your eager grabs for the phone. But whenever they teased, you just said it was some guy online. Their would never believe the truth and you didn’t want to put Jungkook in trouble either. You had seen how crazy his fans could be, so the last thing he needed was your chats to become the topic of online gossip. Besides, it was kind of exhilarating to have a secret like that. At this point, you had already totally forgotten about the flowers.

During the fourth week of knowing Jungkook, you were staying late at the clinic, taking your regular night shift to take care of your little patients. You had just made your rounds, giving all the animals their medicine and checking on their bandages, before sitting down in the reception area, in case of emergencies coming in. But it was a super quiet evening, so you took out your phone. Almost on cue, a message popped up: “Finished work?”

Y/N: “Nope, having a night shift today.”

JK: “Oh, sounds tough.”

Y/N: “Not really. It’s quiet tonight.”

Nothing came after that and you put the phone away again, turning your head to the entry, the glassdoor giving you a perfect view of the rain shower outside. It really was coming down hard today. Bored, you took another round visiting your furry patients, giving them an extra round of cuddles. Suddenly the sound of the door tore through the hallway and you were quick to place the cat with the broken paw down to go and check on the new arrival.

You were utterly stunned to see Jungkook standing in the half opened door, dripping wet and with a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand. 

“It’s pouring rain! Why are you here?!”, you exclaimed, approaching him with a shake of your head. 

“Well, florists dont deliver at this hour.”, he said cheekily with a shrug. “So I came personally.” 

He held out the dripping bouquet to you, which you took gratefully, enjoying the heavy fragrance of the flowers.

“You really shouldn’t have, but thank you. They are gorgeous.”, you said, sending him a smile, before inviting him to the staff room. 

“Let me make you a tea and grab you a towel.”

“You got coffee instead?”, he asked, running a hand through his hair. It had changed color, you noticed, though you also instantly thought that you prefered it black. 

A few minutes later you came back with a small towel and a steaming cup of coffee, taking a seat across from him at the small table. The entire room was tiny, but it was enough for the team.

“So this is where you work, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s a good place. It has nice people and I like how we truly take our time for each patient.”, you explained. You knew that not every clinic was like that, having done internships elsewhere during your studies. 

“Aren’t you busy though?”, it was now your turn to ask him a question.

“I am most nights, but we do get our time off as well.”, Jungkook replied. “Our agency is a good place too.” You nodded, having read up a bit about Big Hit since your meeting with one of their idols. You also realized that you did know and enjoy quite a few of BTS’ songs, even though you had never been able to put a face to them. Now you enjoyed them even more.

“Do you want a tour?”, you asked, after a minute of silence fell between you, during which Jungkook tried to dry his hair. He agreed with a nod, before following you around. There wasn’t much to show, but he did spend some time in the patient rooms, giving the animals some pets and cuddles. He was good with them, you notcied and they seemed to like him in return.

“You have two cats at home, right?”, he asked, his hand still stroking a fat tabby, who was at the clinic because of stomach problems. The owner insisted something was wrong with him, even though you had determined that he just needed a change in food and a consistent diet. 

“Yeah, Mr. Paws and Pogi.”, you replied. “I got them both from here, when the owners didn’t want them anymore.”

Jungkook’s eyes snapped to you, one of his eyebrows raised. “People do that?”

“Sometimes, unfortunately. Mr. Paws has a missing paw, ironically. We had to amputate it and the owner thought his cat would need special treatment because of it. And Pogi just needs regular medication and special food.” Small things really, but some owners just couldn’t handle it. 

“I saw pictures of them and I never notcied the missing paw.”, Jungkook said.

“I don’t make a point of making it the focus on pictures.” 

You ended the tour back in the staff room, where Jungkook took his coffee for a few sips, the drink instantly helping to warm him up. 

“I have to miss our drama this friday.”, he suddenly announced. “So you have to give me detailed updates or at least a good summary.”

“You could just watch the rerun online.”, you suggested.

“It’s no fun alone. So unless you can wait a day for the new episode...”

“I make no promises, since the last episode ended on a cliffhanger.. but I’ll try to be patient.” He smiled at your humor, but you were serous. The show was more enjoyable with him. 

“How did you get here?”, you eventually asked.

“I took a cab, but told them to let me out in front of a restaurant nearby. From there I walked.” In the pouring rain no less. Probably so the cab driver wouldn’t tell where he went. It was a clever ruse, but it was a shame that it was even necessary. 

“Need a ride home?”, you asked. “I think I’m not a bad driver and I have some minor experience with idol passengers.”

His smile grew even wider at that. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“But I do stil have to work for an hour before I can take my break.”, you said, glancing at the clock on the wall.

“Just a break? What time do you go home?”

“This is just like a hospital with normal night shifts. Usually they are covered by our senior staff, but because some are on holiday, the task falls to me. So today, I’m staying till 7am. But I get the next day off.”, you explained. Those almost 24 hour shifts were draining, but rare, so you didn’t mind them at all. 

“Oh, I think I will need loads of coffee to make it until 7am...”, he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I might as well keep you company. That will be the perfect way to show my gratitude.”

“You really don’t have you...”; you started. 

“I have a free day tomorrow as well, so I don’t mind.”, he insisted casually. “Besides, we get a chance to talk about that drama in person. It’s easier than typing.”

You still didn’t get why he wanted to stay. Somehow you could not imagine that it was because he simply started to enjoy your company through your online talks.

For almost the whole night, you just talked and drank copious amounts of coffee. He followed you on your patrol rounds, helping you with minor tasks whenever he could. And although it was strange, it was the best night shift ever. Most of the time, it didn’t feel like you were hanging out with an idol, but just with a really nice guy. A really handsome one at that. 

“This is nice.”, Jungkook said, voicing what you had been thinking. “But I do need another coffee.”

“You could also just take a nap.”, you offered. “I’ll wake you before it’s time to go.” It was already 4 am at this point. 

He seemed to think about the offer. “Ok, but we will grab some breakfast together to make up for lost time.”

Did he really feel like he owed you all this time? You weren’t quite sure what to answer, so you just nodded and went to grab him a blanket. There was a small sofa in the staff room specifically for the nightshift or patients who could not see blood. 

“Goodnight, Jungkook.”

“Goodnight, Y/N”

Hearing it live was so much better than reading his text you decided. And with a smile you made yourself another coffee to last the remaining hours.