#i had like three different ideas for this that i all threw out the window bc they sucked

[n0t-y0ur-piece-0f-cake]

The study of human social behaviour

Summary: you get kidnapped by Yautja, as well as some other people. You try to escape but in a twisted turn of events, you end up being an aliens mate for life.

Fem reader x male yautja

Warnings: NSFW, kidnapping, non-con/rape, violence, death, swearing, metion of forced pregnancy

MDNI / MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

For everyone else: read at own risk

Not proof read, English is not my first language

---------- <3 ----------

"I remembered how I was sitting at my dining table, eating.

Just minding my business and trying to calm down from my stressful day at work. But everything changed with a sudden white light illuminating my surroundings completely." I said, looking into everyone's faces. We sat in a circle. On the cold white ground. What seemed to be LED lights shone so bright, it hurt my eyes at the beginning. Now my eyes didn't mind anymore. The walls were empty and cold.

I turned to look behind me. Looked at the big glass where these aliens are probably observing us. "And that's how I ended up here, in this room. That's all I know." My glance shifted right back at the group. We were three women and three men. Some acknowledged my story by nodding, others by just looking at me wide eyed. I was last to tell. Their stories weren't any diffrent. All of them experienced that white illuminating light. And then they were waking up in here.

I have no idea how long we've already been here. But probably not even a day. Neither do I have any idea what these aliens want from us. Or if they would be happy to tell us, if they even know our tongue.

For now we just sat around. Trying to wrap our mind around what we should do. What THEY would do. One guy threw in a idiotic plan on how he would try to escape, which was quickly shut down and discouraged by us. Why? Because we already saw these aliens. We saw how they were built and could easily lift a out of hand human, to throw them out. The guy they threw out was here again, but he was now quiet. I don't know what they did to him. He doesn't tell either.

After a while our conversations got more quiet, less frequent. I personally was frustrated there was nothing to pass time here. Frustrated I still don't know what the fuck they want. I was laying on the ground for a while now. Others laying too, or sitting against the wall. Suddenly the lights dimmed. I jump up and look around. See if I can spot any differences. Nothing. After a few seconds a big plate from underneath the viewing window was brought into the room. On it were various kind of fruits and vegetables from earth. We all looked at each other. Confused. Should we eat it? Is it poisoned? A woman took the first step. "I'm hungry!", she exclaimed. She took a Mango and bit right in it, peeling the skin then, when she punctured the Mango.

Everyone else followed. I did so too, grabbing an apple, inspecting it. I stood close to the viewing window. Out of curiosity I pressed my forehead against it, I could see the shape of these aliens. They stared at me. Noting something in their, what seemed to be, computers. I sat down on the ground. Just like everyone else. We were now gathered around the plate containing food.

After what seemed to be another hour, the light turned even more dim. Enough to see, but significantly more darker. "I have to use the toilet. Real bad", one of the guys said. "Use the corner?" The other guy said. One girl got mad and made a gagging sound "Are you crazy?" "Well where else is he supposed to go? There's nothing here!"

I look up at the window, and point at it. "Maybe we can ask them?" "Oh sure. Please mister or misses alien, give us a toilet." The guy who had to pee said mockingly. The girl that was still quiet since the beginning sighed and said we should give it a try. She stood up. She looked at all of us, unsure if she should really do it. I nodded. The pee guy nodded too. "Toilet! We need a toilet!" She screamed at the window. Nothing happened. I look through the window again making sure someone is even on the other side. Which yes they are. I look at the girl. "Do it again", I said. She screamed again. This time I joined in and banged my fist against the window. The guy who had to pee chuckled and mocked us again.

Suddenly the big plate was taken back. The sound of a motor made us all go quiet. We looked at where the sound came from. We all starred in awe as a new small room in a corner was build. The new walls including a door came out of the big walls. The motor kept whirring until it seemed to lock in. The guy who had to pee stood up and bolted for that room. As he opened the door he screamed out in ecstasy. "It's an actual fucking bathroom!" He slammed the door, locking it and doing his thing. We could hear muffled yelling. "It has a shower and everything, holy shit!"

The girl who was screaming at the window to get a toilet sat down again. We were all still in our spot. And the rest of the room was still empty. We were all in that corner as if the rest of the room is bad. The guy came back from his bathroom break. Sat down with us as well. I didn't know anyone. Not even their names. Would it be awkward to ask now? Whatever. I'll do it. "I'm Y/N."

They looked up at me. Silence.

"I'm Dave", said the pee guy. "Rachel." The girl that screamed but was always silent.

"Maria", she smiled as she said her name. The girl that was disgusted by the 'pee in the corner suggestion'. "Alexander. But Alex is cool too" said the guy who had lost his temper at the start and was taken by these aliens to god knows where but brought back.

The guy who suggested Dave to pee in the corner sighed. "Nick."

"Is that short for anything?" Maria asked. "Nicklas." Silence again. So now we know each others names. I was tired. I layed down. Some others followed soon after. Motor whirring came up again. We jumped up to look. Out of the wall came beds. For everyone one. They were lined up next to each other on one wall, next to the bathroom. We looked at each other again. We slowly stood up and went over. A fight soon came to ensue. No one wanted to sleep right next to the window. "One of the men have to go on that bed!" Rachel stood her ground. "Nuh uh", said Nick, "I won't let them grab me first!"

"There's not even a door there! To be frank the door is over there!", Dave pointed at the other wall, the door was disguised. The wall plate was over it, covering the door. We all know. Because Alex was taken through it. "Nick, they're always gonna be watching us, everyone of us. It doesn't matter." I said. Nick turned to me. "Then go ahead and sleep on this bed. It's all yours."

I rolled my eyes. I looked at it. At all of them. None of them had blankets. Only pillows and a matress. I nodded. "Fine." Since this discussing was over we all just laid down. Alex still sat on the foot end of his bed. Starring at the opposite wall and where the door is. I was too tired to hold more conversation today. And I don't want to push him. So I just fell asleep.

The next day was more of the same. Our day was started by being woken up by motor whirring sound. Another plate with the same food being brought in. But instead of grabbing something everyone groaned and made a run for the bathroom. Some were faster some slower. I stood up slowly. I didn't have to pee that badly. I passed Alex bed. He was still laying in it. Eyes closed. Snoring. He's a deep sleeper. The line became smaller and smaller. And at last we were all gathered around the table and eating. Except for Alex.

"What did he see?" Maria asked. Everyone shrugged their shoulders. Silence. Maybe no one wanted to keep talking about it because maybe these aliens will get mad. Understandable. We left some food for Alex on the plate. As we stood up and went back to our respective beds to sit down on soft ground the motor starter whirring again. The plate with Alex's food was taken back. Since I was closest to the window and the plate I jumped up and grabbed the left overs before it was fully gone.

I placed it at the foot end of my bed. Waiting on my bed for anything to happen. Dave stood up and banged his fist at the window. "We're bored!" Maria rolled her eyes. There was no reaction even after a while. "Ask for something specific." Rachel said. I nod. "Oh! Like a PC or something." We all looked at Maria's comment. "A PC? What would you want with that? I doubt they have earth Internet access or would allow us to use theirs. If they even have that." Dave said.

"Well they do have PCs so I think they might have Internet? But... yeah. Ask for something else maybe?" I said. Dave resumed banging on the window. "Give us paper and pen! Paper! Pen!" Alex was awoken by the comotion. He grunted. "Shut the fuck up!" Motor started whirring again. A table with a chair like thing appeared. Right in the middle. On it, was nothing. Dave turned to the window again. "For gods sake, Pen! Paper!" Another whirring. This time the plate where usually the food was, came with several pencils and a stack of paper.

Dave grabbed a pen and paper. "If you're up for it, let's play some paper games." Not even a minute later we all gathered on the ground playing 'Town, Country, River'.

It's been days now. Painted and written paper was scattered underneath our beds. We requested a few more things. Like music, but it was a Walkman or whatever you called them from the 80s. We tried requesting a movie, all we got was a Disc, but no TV or anything. It doesn't even say what kind of movie or other media it contains. We requested a flashlight because Maria started to freak out when the lights dimmed for the night, which they granted. We requested actual cooked meals. But all that came was questionable looking things. They tried their best but... didn't look to edible. We did taste it. Either it was bland or not cooked through. So we kept eating fruits and vegetables. Yes. We did try to request raw foods, even going as far as to write and draw the ingredients and what tools we'd need, but they didn't do anything. None of them ever came in since Alex little incident. Not until this day.

We weren't sure if they had cameras in this room or not. Or where their blindspots are. So we came up with something. Nick, who had suggested before that we should try and escape, 'invented' the human pile. We would throw ourselves on a pile, laying on the ground with our stomach, basically. So our heads would be looking down at the same spot in the middle and our heads would be so close together we'd maybe have the chance of a camera not catching what we write on a piece of paper. We'd also be stacked upon each other, and someone would have to hold Maria's flashlight so we could see what was written on the paper. Because that's how close our heads had to be. Of course these aliens must wonder and get suspicious what we'd do. So we started out with drawing really weird things like memes. Of course we'd laugh about it. We all hoped the aliens would think we were just doing some stupid human bonding stuff drawing these pictures.

And only in-between we wrote the plans and discussions for escaping. We'd black them out or overdraw them with memes. Just to make sure. Our plan so far? The strongest must pretend that he has a heart attack or something. Everyone else needs to back up against the empty wall and pretend to be scared, where the door is. So when they open it the second strongest and strongest can distract them aliens. But why try to escape? We were here since days. Pretty sure we're on a planet. Not ours but a planet. We can hear no big motor sound that made us think that we were still in space or something. Also the fruits and vegetables changed in shape, size and color that it made us think that these ones are not from earth anymore. They looked more alien yet earthly. Like they've ran out of earth veggies and fruits and now only have their similar stuff left.

Maybe we'd have a chance of surviving out there. But we won't stay here forever. We asked them on how long they plan on keeping us here. What they want. But no answer ever came. They just starred back at us through the window. We're not gonna die here.

The day of the plan finally came. We all kept acting as always. Wake up. Eat. Do something. Nick and Dave worked out, push ups, squats, whatever, trying go get more pumped up for later. Alex was still in bed, not yet getting up, but due to the circumstances fully awake. Maria, me and Rachel on the ground playing or drawing. Rachel then got up. She took some tomatoes from under her bed that she kept there from this morning and started screaming and acting weirdly. The plan has started.

Maria and I got up. Looking at her. The men turned to look at her. We all pretend to be in shock. She started throwing the tomatoes on the window. Taking the table and throwing it against the window. Dave shoved the table to the wall, where he ordered us to go and stay safe away from Rachel. Still the plan.

I felt my heart pumping hard. I am so nervous. This could go so wrong. Suddenly the plates were moved and the door was opened. An alien came in and headed towards Rachel. Dave immediately grabbed the table and smashed it down on the alien. They got into a fight, the table broke so Dave took a piece and hit it over and over again. The alien groaned. We ran towards the door. It was closed. There were buttons tho. Alex pressed the one he remembered the most from the day he was taken. It opened. Just as wanted to slip through the door closed on me and Dave. Dave got stuck between the door. It didn't do much. But the wall plates started moving to shut close. We heard the others scream from the other side. Nick and Rachel quickly taking over and running away with the other two.

The wall plates didn't stop. Dave screamed for help. I grabbed his arm and started to pull him, but his other arm was stuck in the door. He flexed it, twisted and turned it, but it was stuck. The wall finally came to a close. I screamed and looked away as a crunching noise emitted the room. I shut my eyes and held my ears with my hands that quickly let go of Dave. I looked at the ground. My back was turned to Dave. A puddle of blood came close to my shoes. I took away my hands from my ears. Listening if I could hear Dave speak or breath. Nothing. Silence.

I felt nauseous. I felt like I was about to drop dead myself. I couldn't bear looking back at him now. I dont want to see his crushed body. The alien that has been hit layed in front of me. Seemingly unconscious as he was still breathing. Defeated I sat down next to it. I couldn't even bear to sit on the bed now. I heard commotion behind me. The wall plates and door moving to open. Daves body hit the ground, before he was dragged out. When I was sure he was gone, I turned as well. Ther was no alien standing guard. So I jumped up and ran- but the unconscious alien grabbed my arm and jerked me right back down with one motion. He wasn't unconscious. He was pretending like we were. "Please let me go." I said, still trying to pull away but the alien was just too strong.

It got up. Its large frame hovering over me. It was wider than me too. His muscles seemed so large and its grip... two things that showed me that it could crush my skull easily if it wanted to. I was as well lifted up to stand. Another alien, unlike the one holding me, wore white instead of silver armor. The one now standing in the doorframe also seemed to wear more fabric. Was more covered. The one holding me seemed to wear the more basic armor or clothes. So I thought. They communicated in a tongue I couldn't understand. When they were done, the one holding me looked down to me, looking deeply into my eyes. I looked at it back. It's eyes shone yellow, against his dark, almost black and brown shades of reptile like skin.

I couldn't read its emotions. Out of no where it yanked me with it, dragging me god knows where. Are they going to put me down, out of my misery like the experiment animals that we maybe were? I was dragged out of the room, I jumped over the puddle of Daves blood. Feeling disgusted and being reminded about these sounds his body made. I'd never forget that. Hallways and hallways without end. We seemed to get into another testing facility. As it still dragged me, we passed embryos of various types of unrecognisable creatures kept in large tubes.

I didn't fully understand, couldn't grasp on it that quickly. Until we reached a empty room. It wasn't large. Maybe 10 feet in every direction. "Are you going to kill me?" I asked. The alien looked at me. It shook its head no. It could understand me. "What will you do then?" It tilted its head to the side. A deep voice, growling animalistic, started to speak. "Experiment." "Experiment?", I looked at it shocked. It could speak. But what does it mean? "What were you planning with my group?" It took a while until it could form another sentence, like as if it was trying to make sure it was using the right words. "Ooman social Experiment. But now they dead." It said in broken English.

I looked at it wide eyed. "You just wanted to observe our behaviour?" It nodded. "When ooman is entrapped, yes." "And then?"

"Let ooman free again, but oomans tried escape, now dead." My eyes widened even more. "You would have let us go??" A tear ran down my face, knowing we would have made it out alive anyways. "They're dead? I saw them run out!" "We killed." It said almost confident. I looked at it now with confusion. "So why not kill me, huh!?"

"Other experiment. I decide." I tilted my head now too. "Other experiment?" "Yes, but ooman will not get out of this." It said stepping closer to me. I took a step back, trying to create distance, it tried to grab my arms but I quickly turned and tried to get to the door. It did reach it, but I didn't know which button to press, neither did pressing all of them help. Or all of them at the same time, before it grabbed me by the waist, to slam me onto his frontal body. "No escape, ooman", it growled above my head. Not long after it placed its hands on my pants colar. I placed my hands on its arms, trying to get these arms away from there, knowing where this will go. My pants buttons were ripped right off, didn't matter how much I tried to get it away. It then pulled down all of that I wore underneath my waist. Now my bare ass and vagina were exposed to the cold air. One hand was placed right between my legs, cupping my vagina, while it's middle finger started working on my clit. It send out signals to my brain I didn't want. I yelped like a puppy. I saw how it threw a cloth to the side of us. I remember it, it was the cloth between its legs. That was seemingly worn as a type of pants.

I grabbed its arms, that was still cupping and working on my vagina, still trying to push it away, I clenched my legs together, making the feeling and every movement even more intense unwillingly. My yelps have turned into small gasps of air. I leaned back on its chest, looking up on it. "Please stop" I begged. It leaned down, so much so that I was made to bend over in the process. Its hand stopped cupping me. And the other was on my neck, its pressure on my neck and now waist made me arch my back. "Stay." It demanded. I whimpered, but I obeyed. Pleased that I stood still, I felt it part my fold with its fingers. If I wasn't sure if this alien was male before I was sure enough now.

Before I knew he placed the tip of his cock into my vagina, before grabbing my hips and slamming his length into me. A scream left my mouth. A pained one. It was something I never felt before. A girth what felt like almost 4 fingers wide and a length that hit my cervix on the first slam. And from what I could feel, he still had more, that just couldn't fit in. He leaned down back to me, so my back and his chest weren't ever to part. "Mate." He said. He started with a slow pace, i could feel more of his cocks texture. It seemed to have some kind of small knobs on it, on its shaft. My face felt hot. Almost burning. I didn't know where to place my hands, so i placed them on top of his. Almost grabbing him. "My mate." He growled even more as his breath seemed to picked up with his pace. Him hitting my cervix now harder made me squirm in pain, but at the same time it felt good. His pace got even more faster. My right hand traveled to his right side of his hip, trying to push him away, or at least to make him slow down. It was too much for me, as I let my head drop, my eyes roll back and soft moans now escaping my mouth, his pace dropped but his thrusts became more violent, as well as his grunts. Not long after he buried his cock as deep as he could, standing up straight and letting me feel his warm cum fill me, as he still held me in place with his hands on my hips.

I saw it drip down along my thighs, it was a glowing greenish substance. "My mate." It repeatedly muttered. My heart pace calmed down after a while. As well as my body seemed to as well. So he pulled out. "Ah'kun", he said, pointing to himself, before he put back on his cloth covering his dick. He left the room without a word.

I stood there trembling, unsure what to do now. How to even process what just happened or throughout the whole day to be exact. Ah'kun did come back after a while. Bringing another cloth, almost looking like fancy panties, with sumo like cloth in the front and back. He held it infrong of my feet. He wanted me to step in so he could make me wear it? I guess so. So i did. He pulled it up. It was almost a bit too tight. But it should do for now. In the same motion as he pulled up my new panties or pants, he undid my shirt and bra. Of course I tried to go against it, but he just didn't bother. He was still stronger. He disposed all of my clothes with a trashcan that came out by pressing something on an empty wall. Right after he dragged me out. I was now wearing nothing but these weird panties. "Forgot..." He said. Taking a necklace of his neck and binding it around mine. "What is that?" I asked, looking at the necklace seemingly made out of bones. "Shows everyone your mate. My mate."

I look at him. At this point, I wasn't a experiment to him anymore, wasn't I? He took my silence for an answer, that was good enough for him. As we stepped outside into the daylight, we were right. We were on a planet. A tropical one. With what almost looked like aztec pyramids. And it seemed to be normal that these aliens wore only these panties. Even the female ones. Only few wore armor. "Why don't they all have armor?" I looked at him, as he held my hand. "No hunters or warrior" he pointed at the majority that didn't wear armor. "And you?" I said, I looked back and forth at them and him. "I, elite hunter. You have luck, my mate." He started to get confident again.

"Why luck?" "Elite hunter, high status." He said even more confident. His ego definitely stroked. He dragged me down the stairs of the pyramid we were in. The lab pyramid I'm taking. As we stepped out of the shadow, it was even a smart idea of him to remove my warm clothing. Because the sun here was brutally hot.

We were walking for a bit, the other aliens looked at us, specifically me. Some talked with Ah'kun, in their native tongue of course. Giving him proud pats on the back. Was a human mate an achievement? A trophy? Who knows. I don't. We finally reached another pyramid, one of those many. "My home, you live now too, here."

He closed the door behind me. In here, the air was cool again. The decorations and furniture style felt similar to several antique human civilisations, but yet held their advanced alien touch. I looked everywhere. There was even an armor room. Where his helmets and other armor were displayed. A trophy room with several heads of all kinds of creatures.

I kept looking. I found everything you'd expect from an house. Bathroom, bedroom, kitchen, living room. And empty or barely filled rooms. "What's all the empty rooms for?" "Storage. And little ones." I tilted my head. "Little ones?" He nodded. Did he mean kids? Was I even able to give that to him? What was I thinking. When did I start to be okay with this? This isn't my planet. In that moment it dawned on me. Was this my life now? I started crying. Not just because of the fact that I was here, but because of all of this.

Ah'kun patted me caringly on the back. "You will be good mom, no worry."

[kimberly-spirits13]

Break Ups and Make Ups

Jason Todd x reader

Synopsis: Jason breaks up with you to keep you safe only to get saved by you a few weeks later.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, Jason being angsty

Word Count: 3233

Jason couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in a bed that felt too large and dreamed of futures he lost from his grasp. Every night was the same. He’d spend his energy patrolling to forget you, drag himself through his apartment, and then come to the realization that he was entirely alone the second the AC hit in the face. What made him even angrier was that it wasn’t even your fault, not entirely at least. To Jason, you were the epitome of perfection and had done nothing wrong. You were meant to be protected at all costs and Jason was sure that he could never protect you when you were with him. Every body he saw, every victim of Gotham he encountered had your face. Maybe it was a fragment of his delusion that caused him to worry so intensely, but to him, it came out of a place of real possibility. 

That’s why he broke it off with you when things started getting serious. All he really remembers from that day was you screaming something he doesn’t remember (or tries to forget) at him and telling him to leave. It was the worst day of his life, and he would have died a thousand times over again to avoid it ever happening. He’d never seen you so upset before and hated that it was because of him. Every night, this was what he saw before he fell asleep, and once sleep had finally taken over there was no rest from his regret. He’d dream of all the futures you could have had together, bringing newborns home from the hospital, you, walking down the aisle with tears flowing from everyone’s eyes, and the endless possibilities of bliss that he threw away that night. 

                  That was what was keeping Jason up last night. He was exhausted, struggling to stay awake as the cycle of regret repeated every time he shut his eyes. 

                  “You alright Jaybird?” Dick asked, standing in the mirror adjusting his tie.

                  “Fine.” Jason gruffed in response.

                  Jason was sitting in one of the many armchairs in the manor staring at the window, brooding. Usually, he’d hear your laughter with the girls from down the hallway, joking about whatever appealed to them at the time. Tonight was different and all he heard were the voices of his sisters, sometimes bringing you up, lamenting the loss of your presence. 

                  “Do you think she’ll show up eventually?” Steph asked, “I mean she kind of has to for press.”

                  “I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t” Jason heard Barbra reply, causing him to cringe.

                  He was in the wrong for breaking it off with you. Jason saw that now, regretting the pride that came in with thinking it was only up to him to keep you safe, or that you couldn’t play some part in it. To your credit, you’d survived Gotham for so many years before meeting him, even as a socialite. Why did he think it would be any different? 

                  “You know, it would be worth just talking to her.” Dick said, “If that’s what you’re brooding over. I mean, I’m pretty sure that’s what you’re brooding over.” Dick said.

                  “It’s none of your business.” 

                  “Yea, not really, but you’re acting like you’ve been tossing up the idea of swan diving off Gotham Bridge.” Dick chided, “So maybe you should talk to her. Sounds like she didn’t want to break up anyways, so you’d probably have a chance.”

                  “She’d kill me.” Jason replied coldly.

                  Dick didn’t say anything in response, but Jason knew what he was thinking, “Yeah, and right now, you’d deserve it.” 

                  When the car pulled up to the carpet at the front of the gala, it was all Jason could do to not sink and melt into the floor. There would be plenty of questions from reporters asking where you were. It had been three weeks since he dumped you and the internet had been stirring. 

                  “Just walk past them.” Dick said, “And don’t beat anyone”

                  “No promises.” Jason answered, stepping out of the car, and giving his hand to Cassandra to help her out.

                  Cass nodded at him giving him enough signal of, “I’ll walk with you.” 

                  Reporters and fans shouted at the family. Jason wished that anyone else was the center of attention, but instead all the questions were centered around his relationship with you. 

                  “Where’s Y/N?” 

                  “Are you and Y/N still dating?”

                  “Why haven’t we seen you together?”                   Bruce managed to shove in front of Vikki Vale to protect Jason from her invasive questions and everyone else made their way inside. The lights of the flashing cameras faded through the crowd inside the gala. Jason felt like all eyes were on him. It was one of the first times that he felt like hiding in a corner, wrapped up in a ball at one of these events. Women with hair overdone and plunging V-neck dresses approached him, assuming that he was no longer off the table. It’s not like they cared when we still dating you whether it was appropriate to hit on him. 

                  If you were here, you two would be making fun of everyone here acting like they were on top of the world instead of the true trash of Gotham, but you weren’t, and now he was awkwardly standing next to Dick ignoring the conversation he was engaged in. Jason was pretty sure they were talking about something related to Wayne Enterprises, but he focused on the bitter cold at his side where you were meant to be on his arm. You’d be making some comment about an increase in recent sales for some company WE were working with, and he’d be staring at you wondering how he got so lucky. Now he stares at the floor wondering how he got so stupid.

                  “Dude, you look like a dog that just got its favorite toy taken.” Dick said once the person he was talking to left.

                  Jason left out a gruff in response. He didn’t have a response to that. Instead, Jason was counting down the minutes until he could leave and go crash in his apartment, though, he wasn’t sure that would be any better. Twirling a toothpick from some fancy snack he just endured, he thought about what he’d do if he tried to make it up with you.

                  “Seriously, go home, take a shower, and call her.” Dick urged, “We all know she liked you; you’re just going to have to explain a few things.”

                  “She probably hates me.” Jason answered, running his hand across his face, “I can’t blame her though.”

                  “Maybe she hates you, but maybe she’s just waiting for you to get your head out of your butt.”

                  Before Jason could respond to that, he heard glass shattering in the building and gun shots echoing. He looked towards Bruce, trying to gage whether they would spring into action. Bruce was busy ushering guests out of the building and not paying too much attention to where everyone else was. Dick and Jason ducked for cover, trying to see where the shots were being fired from. As they scanned the room, they saw a dark gas creeping towards the table where they were situated and there was nowhere to run.

                  “Tim’s still on the mission with his team.” Dick said

                  “Can’t blow our cover.” Jason responded, “Isn’t there that new vigilante running around town that Bruce has been trying to pretend he isn’t working with?”

                  “And you think that will help?” Dick snorted,

                  “You’re right. We’re screwed.” 

                  You were currently speeding through the streets of Gotham, riding at full speed towards the hotel where the gala was tonight. Bruce had asked you to avoid it since all the others were on a mission or at the gala. It was a precaution he had in place just in case something happened. You were still bitter about what happened with Jason. He was an idiot. Jason thought you had no idea of his persona as Red Hood. He had no idea that you were the recent vigilante in Gotham, Batman took in for your skills. Here you thought Jason would be a better detective. 

                  Flying towards the police lights, you pulled your bike near Gordon’s patrol car and jumped off, helmet in hand. 

                  “What do you have?” You asked.

                  “We’re waiting for Batman.” Gordon replied, “Hostages have been released other than the Waynes.”                   “Batman’s not coming.” You countered, “He’s on a mission with the League.”

                  “He never told me about that.” 

                  “You think he’d tell you about a classified mission with the League?” You lied, “I’m all you have, so get over it.” 

                  “You really are with the Bat.” Gordon sighed, “Bane sent his men to capture the Waynes and is demanding a ransom of $1 billion.”

                  “He does realize that most of that is kept in separate investments, right?” You mumbled.

                  “Apparently he doesn’t” “He’s got them in an east river warehouse and will begin executions at 12am. First one to go is Jason Todd.” 

                  You looked at the time blaring on his phone, beads of sweat starting to form on your forehead, “Two hours.” 

                  “Surely he doesn’t think we could retrieve $1 billion in two hours.” Gordon responded.

                  “I don’t care what he thinks as long as you convince him that the money is coming.” You said, “I’ll recover the Waynes.” “Keep him ignorant, it’s our best option.” 

                  The drive felt like hours even though it was thirty minutes through the traffic. All the while you were thinking about what Gordon said, “First to go is Jason Todd.” You were still upset with him, but that didn’t negate the fac that you loved him. Jason breaking it off with you felt like someone tore your soul out of you. You were pretty sure once you explained everything to him, he’d understand, but you didn’t have the energy to track him down and convince him to listen to you. Serving around a slower driver, you sped onto the side road that led straight into the warehouses. Bane has a usual point of operation here that you were sure he was staking out in. He wasn’t the most intelligent guy on the block, but it was too risky for the special ops team to come flying into the building with such a threat. 

                  You haphazardly parked your bike and sprinted towards the warehouse you knew they’d be in. The comm in your ear began buzzing and you clicked the button to turn on the feed. 

                  “He’s about to start executing.” Gordon said.

                  “What? There’s still an hour and a half left?” You whisper yelled, “Did your men screw it up?” 

                  “Haven’t found out yet, Bane has demanded that the time be dropped.” “Are you in there?”

                  “Almost, how much time do I have?” 

                  “Fifteen minutes.” Gordon replied. 

                  “When I knock him out, I expect that you put him in the most uncomfortable cell in Black Gate.” 

                  “Without a second thought.” Gordon said, confidence lacing his voice.

                  There were 10 guards outside the warehouse heavily armed. Bane must have been juiced up which meant he was more confident in not needing security, just someone to collect the money and bring it inside. If you were on your own, you’d probably kill them all and let GCPD handle it, but you were in Batman’s turf and had to respect his bounds. Instead, you opted to tranquilize them and leave the clean-up to GCPD to save time.

                  “I’ve got 10 unconscious out front, make sure they’re in cars before they wake up.” You said, “Don’t come in with sirens and lights on.” “I’m going in”

                  “Understood.” Gordon responded quickly. 

                  Going to the roof, you looked a window down to see Bane dragging Jason with a bag over his head, to the front of a room where a camera was. There was one other man with a mask on holding a rifle pointed to where Jason was now kneeling. He ripped the bag off Jason’s head to show reveal him with a busted lip and a fresh bruise appearing on his jaw. He must have said something that rubbed one of the recruits the wrong way. Your heart began to race as you watched in horror. With your boot, you kicked the glass once and watched as the shards fell to the ground. From below, Jason heard the crashing of the glass and didn’t look up in case it was falling on him. A loud pop echoed through the building and the sound of metal hitting the floor sounded in his ears. Another shot was fired and after a few seconds, the man standing behind him stumbled backwards and finally fell. 

                  With the immediate threat to Jason neutralized, you jumped down, landing on Bane’s shoulders. 

                  “You picked the wrong day Bane. I’m not in the mood” you said.

                  “I’ll kill you all!” He screamed, reaching his arms around his back, trying to grab you off him. 

                  “Is that the most intelligent thing you can think of right now, big guy?” You laughed.    

                  Reaching into your utility belt, you pulled out a large knife and positioned to cut into the tubes that pumped his venom. Before you could do that, Bane reached around and grabbed your leg. With a grunt you were thrown to the ground but recovered quickly. Jumping back up, you ran towards him, launching yourself in the air to kick his jaw. A tooth flew past you and blood began to run out of his mouth. These were the moments you were grateful for steel-toed boots. Bane stumbled for a moment before regaining his strength and barreling towards you. You ran back from him, giving yourself space and leading him to a place where you could get back on top of him. He started reaching his arms back again causing you to glide your knife over his arm. Blood was drawn again, and he recoiled in pain. Taking this opportunity, you ran the knife through the pipes, venom spewing out everywhere. He fell back right as you flung yourself off him and out of his reach. Quickly, his muscles started constricting and falling back into their regular form. It was a disgusting sight to and you found yourself grimacing at the sight. 

                  In the commotion of it all, you weren’t aware that the camera had knocked over. Bruce and Dick were still sitting patiently, waiting for you to uncuff them. 

                  “Target neutralized, I’ll bring out the Waynes and Bane.” You said into the comm.

                  “Got it, ETA five minutes.” Gordon answered 

                  You grabbed the keys that were hanging on the wall next to where Bane had been standing and began to uncuff Bruce and Dick. 

                  “You always manage to get yourself into trouble, don’t you?” You asked, a smirk evident in your voice despite your mask.

                  “You know it.” Dick said.

                  “Thanks for the rescue.” Bruce stood up as you helped Dick off the floor, “We can drag Bane out. It seems you’ve got some explaining to do.” 

                  Jason was sitting and staring at the wall, contemplating his life. You weren’t sure what he was thinking, but you could bet it was something about being glad he broke it off with you after something like this happening. You watched for a minute as Bruce and Dick dragged Bane out of the room, giving you two a moment.

                  “Jason.” You said, trying to get him to turn around.

                  “You gonna uncuff me?” He asked.

                  “I was getting there.” You knelt behind him and unlocked the cuff.

                  The clank of metal quietly rang out. An awkward silence fell, and you weren’t sure what to do so instead you started assessing injuries. You moved to kneel in front of him and examined his lip and the bruise that was getting darker by the second.

                  “Anything feel broken?” you asked.

                  “No.” He moved away from your touch, something that hurt your heart, “Who even are you? Batman’s new recruit?” 

                  “Jason- do you?” You huffed and began to pull off your mask, “You’re an idiot.” 

                  Once you had your mask off, he started at you, lost for words. So many emotions ran through his eyes, confusion and then realization being the two most prominent ones.

                  “Y/N?” He asked bewildered, “How did you keep this from me?”

                  “I figured you knew, Red Hood.” You said, tucking your mask under your arm.

                  “You knew about that?” 

                  “You’re not very inconspicuous about it, Jason.” You laughed, “I mean every time patrol ended, Red Hood would head in the direction of your apartment and then you’d drop by thirty minutes later after taken a shower and typically with some sort of wound dressing. Plus, it helps that I went to the cave a few times.”                   “Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked, hurt lingering in his voice.

                  “I realized you probably didn’t know anything about it and planned to talk to you about it but you kind of dumped me before I got the chance.” Your smile faded and was instead replaced with a stoic look. Jason knew you were upset, “What do you think I was yelling at you for?” 

                  “I thought you were just yelling because you were mad.” He answered, shame now replacing his look of hurt.

                  “Yeah, I’m pissed with you. I feel like you thought I can’t handle myself, even if you didn’t mean to come across that way. I was trying to get you to stop so we could talk about it. You were bound to get in and get out.” Tears began swelling in your eyes and you quickly wiped them away. 

                  “Y/N I’m so sorry.” He said.

                  “Yea, so am I.” Your head hung low for a second before you picked yourself back up, not wanting to break down in front of Jason right now.

                  “No, it’s not your fault.” Jason grabbed your hands, “This has been the worst few weeks of my entire life. I can’t live without you. Day and night, you’re the only thing I think of. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t do anything right now. I’d rather die a thousand times over than not have you.” 

                  At this point you started crying and Jason grabbed you, pulling you into his chest. You cried into his suit that was already ruined by the dirt and tears from tonight. He was crying to, no matter how much he didn’t want to be.

                  “I’m so, so sorry Y/N. I never meant to hurt you. I just thought this was best for you. I didn’t want you ending up hurt or dead or- I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.”                   “Jason” You laughed through tears, “I’m a Gotham CEO, I was already unsafe by myself.” 

                  “I didn’t think about that.” He said, making you laugh more. 

                  “Do you think you’d have me back?” Jason asked, a now solemn look coming across his face.

                  “Yes, absolutely.” 

                  Jason pulled you into a kiss that felt like it lasted forever and once it was over, he rested his head in the crook of your neck and inhaled deeply.

                  “I missed you so much.” He said. 

                  “I did too.” 

                  Jason’s family was going to be ecstatic about this. They probably weren’t going to let him live down you realizing he was Red Hood before he realized you were a vigilante.

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

  Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

 Chapter Word Count: 1762

—-MDNI—-

A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.

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I'm Not Your F*cking Maid

Please read Prologue before starting.

Chapter 1

I sat in the window booth at the typical sleepy diner, tapping my fingers on the sticky wooden table and checking the time on my phone every minute. She was late. She was never late. And now I’m getting worried. I’m sure she’s fine, I had convinced myself as I reached for my backpack and pulled out an old tome on burial rights over various different cultures. I might as well read to distract myself whilst I wait for her to arrive. I try to relax into the monotone ambience of the room, and just as I get settled into the scrawling text on the ancient pages, a growling engine pulling up outside draws my gaze away from the long paragraph on ‘Cremation’. I return my attention back to the book after a second as the engine ticks over outside for a few more beats before being turned off. The waitress returns to my table to collect the empty beer bottle I’d drained when I first arrived; she smiled and asked if she could get me anything.

“Just another one of those please,” I smiled back, hearing the bell ring as the front door opened and my gaze jumped from the waitress to Charlie as she came skipping towards where I was sitting, sliding into the booth opposite me.

“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I’m late, I had an errand to run and it took waaaayyy longer than expected.”

“It’s ok, I was starting to get a little worried so I’m just glad you’re alright….” I felt my voice trail off as I felt the booth cushion dip as someone sat next to me. I whipped my head around and came nose-to-nose with a man I’d never met before; with the most enticing green eyes I’d ever gazed into and annoyingly kissable lips pulling into a devilish smirk. Just as those lips parted to speak, I blurted out without thinking:

“Who the fuck are you?”

He blinked in slight shock, and paused like he was rethinking what he was going to say. He opened his mouth to speak again but was interrupted a second time.

“Dean, don’t sit so close,” another man, who I didn’t even realise was there, had sat down next to Charlie. He was taller, with impressive hair and softer features than this Dean guy, who was practically sitting in my lap and eyeing me up and down. Dean gave this other man a look as if to say ‘shut up’, before turning to me once more, devilish grin back in place. He opened his mouth to speak a third time right as the waitress returned with my beer.

“Here you are,” she said sweetly, not knowing she was interrupting as Dean threw his hands up in defeat at not being able to get a word in, slumping back in the chair. The waitress put the bottle down in front of me.

“Can I get anything for your friends?” She looked around the table and before either of the men could answer, Charlie jumped in;

“Three very strong coffees please.”

Dean huffed, “Oh so I can’t even order a beer?”

“You two boys have been living on pizza and beer for God knows how long. At least drink something that contains some water,” Charlie quipped, looking at them both like they were naughty children. She sighed when she realised they looked slightly ashamed of themselves. “Anyway, (Y/n), this is Sam and Dean. I know you’ve been looking for work and these two might be able to help. They’re good friends of mine and they’re-“

“Hunters,” I interrupted, feeling my blood start to run cold, “yeah I know who they are. Winchesters,” the name felt bitter on my tongue, like poison.

They must have noticed the change of tone in my voice because the table went quiet, even the mischievous glint seemed to have gone from Deans gaze as he looked at me with intrigue. Annoyed at myself for not realising who they were sooner, I grabbed my backpack and unzipped it, packing away my book. I stood up and glared down at Dean, about to bark at him to move when Charlie grabbed my wrist.

“(Y/n) what’s wrong? What are you doing? Please don’t go, we…they could really use your help right now.”

“And why should I? They’re the reason I’m struggling in the first place,” I paused, staring down at the two men who now had dark, ashamed expressions cloaking their features, almost like this wasn’t the first time they’d heard this side of the story where they weren’t always the hero’s. “They’re the reason my family is dead, and I’m all alone.” More silence hung over the booth like a dark cloud. It was Sam who spoke up after a minute or so, genuine sorrow in his eyes.

“(Y/n) I’m so, so sorry. Who-”

“Bobby Singer.”

The Winchester brothers shot each other a stunned look.

“B-Bobby?” Sam stuttered whilst Deans eyes widened. He looked like he’d taken a blow to the chest and had the air knocked from his lungs, “We didn’t know he had any living relatives…”

“He was my uncle,” Deans jaw clenched, “And you guys didn’t know because he knew I’d end up being used against him. I collected books for him to help you guys on all your bullshit missions, so haven’t I already helped you enough? Don’t you owe me some peace?” I threw my bag on the floor and picked up my beer, taking several gulps before slamming it back onto the table before continuing, the words just spilling out. “He was my only living relative for as long as I can remember. So fuck you guys for taking him away from me.”

“We loved Bobby,” Dean spoke suddenly in a grave tone and his gaze went dark as he stood up to face me. His tall form with strong, broad shoulders loomed over my much smaller stature, one of his fingers jabbing into my chest.

“Dean-” Sam started but was silenced by a wave of Deans other hand.

“You can get down off your high fucking horse if you think that you’re the only family that he had. You weren’t. He raised us more than our own father did, and I’ll be damned if I don’t think about him every day and wish he was here. You’re not the only one grieving him so stop acting like a precious little bitch and grow up,” Deans voice grew louder and more pissed as he spoke, and with every word he spoke he got closer and closer until he was right in my face, our noses almost touching. My heart rate was starting to pick up and I could feel the anger start to boil in my veins. Without missing a beat I threw my fist out and punched him in the face, making him stumble out of the booth and into the aisle in the diner. I heard gasps around me but didn’t look up. When the anger in my veins didn’t fade with the single punch, I didn’t give him a chance to gain his composure as I tackled him, making him fall on his back as I straddled him, my knees gripping his hips as I began punching him again and again right in that stupid face of his. Charlie and Sam seemed to sit there in disbelief for a few seconds before springing into action and lifting me off the older Winchester brother. Sam held me back gently but firmly as Charlie helped Dean to his feet, handing him a napkin from the table for the blood pouring from his nose and lip.

“You crazy bitch!” Dean spat.

“Fuck you!” I tried to break free so I could slap him but Sam held me tight.

The whole diner had gone silent as they watched me lose my shit, some amused but most were horrified. It took a few more moments of silence before they all went back to what they were doing and Sam let go of me, watching me like I was a time bomb. I heard Charlie giggle quietly.

“Holy crap (Y/n) I had no idea you had that in you. I’m actually a little impressed, you were always so quiet.”

“What can I say,” I turned to glare at Dean “I learnt from the best,” as I turned away I heard him mutter under his breath.

“Yeah you aren’t the only one.”

For a second time I saw red, and before Sam could grab me I spun on my heel and threw my fist out. CRACK.

*

The car doors slammed closed next to me after I was crammed into the back of Deans car. It wouldn’t have been that bad - the seats were oh so plush - if it wasn’t for the handcuffs tight round my wrists and duct tape across my lips. Oh, and that my thigh was rubbing up against the man that I had just assaulted. Dean was in the same situation with the handcuffs and the tape, his long legs having to spread wide so he can fit in the back of his own car. I could feel his gaze burning into the side of my face as I watched Sam and Charlie apologising to the diner staff through the front window. I was trying to find any sort of distraction right now, as Deans body temperature was hot and I could feel it through both his jeans and mine as he pressed into me. He was starting to make me sweat a little. Luckily it wasn’t long before Charlie and Sam hopped into the car, Sam in the drivers seat. They both turned to face us, smiles of bewilderment on their faces as if they were still processing what had just happened. Sam spoke first.

“(Y/n) is now officially barred from that diner, and honestly they wanted to call the cops. Charlie managed to save your ass as she still had her FBI badge on her,” he shot her a look and she grinned.

“So because now, you technically owe me a debt of gratitude, you will be staying in the bunker with the boys and helping them with their research.” She chimed, like she had won a game. In the end they got what they wanted.

I groaned and rolled my eyes. Of course. I heard Dean huff next to me, and he sounded just as displeased as I did. To be honest at this point, that’s fair.

Although he had it coming.

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Up Next

Chapter 2

[diejager]

More crow! Reader please for 141. I just love the idea of an eldritch being choosing and staying deliberately with a pack of monsters below their caliber for the sake of fondness

Crow Pt. 2

Pairing: Monster COD x Eldritch horror!reader

Cw: cannibalism, human meat, weird Eldritch horror thing, hive mind, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 3.7k Note: I wrote this over a few months, and I haven’t proofread it so a few parts might not connect.

With the knowledge they now held in their hands, they didn’t know how to react. You were, for all they knew, an ancient being, primordial even, and you were dangerous, much more than the unpredictability of König’s ire or the wildness of Ghost’s darkness. They didn’t know how to deal with the weight on their shoulder when your eyes landed on them, or how to react when they heard you speak to them with that low and raspy voice that you so rarely used. 

After that day in Russia, the saw you more often, rather than finding you at night around your murder of crows, in the darkness of your room or standing beside Price, they would find you in their rec room, sitting beside the open window while petting the body of a bird; you’d meet them in the gym, watching them train and sometimes join them; or you would occasionally sit beside them. You opened up to them, letting the men see what laid under your mask. Price encouraged them to reach out, to ask you questions and to quell their curiosity by speaking to you.

Soap and Gaz were the first to jump to the occasion, their wide eyes gleaming with innocent curiosity threatening to spill over the edge. In the privacy of their personal space, they swarmed you with enthusiasm, Gaz standing to your left and Soap to your right. Ghost was fortunate to be in the room that day, drinking tea from the table while Alejandro and Rudy shared the couch. König and Horangi were deployed off to some remote village to help another company detain their target, and Price was slaving off in his office signing off paperwork. 

While the two threw question after question at you, Soap being oblivious of his wagging tail and Gaz literally glowing with how much you spoke, the three men listened in, as interested in you as the two were. They learned a lot, their minds filled with everything they were given, clinging onto the sound of your voice, that soft rasp from under your mask.

When Soap, the ever-hungry pup he was, asked what you ate, a question that clouded everyone’s mind. They never saw you eat nor had they seen you at the mess hall. Your answer was soft and blunt, empty of fear and hesitance.

“Meat, human.”

You weren’t so different from Ghost and König after all, consuming humans as your means of subsistence. Yet none of them had ever caught a whiff of human blood or meat from your scent, only the strange and sterile musk from your body. Perhaps that explained why you sometimes went dark during deployments, Price only sent you out alone, believing you invulnerable (you somewhat were, old and powerful), you closed off all and any signal to gorge on human flesh. 

What did your mouth look like? Could your mouth open up like those alien-like creatures, where your lower jaw was separated in the middle, breaking open into a terrifying maw filled with rows of teeth? Or were you more human looking, with a small mouth like theirs and sharp teeth like the shifters of their TF? It was a nagging thought that one would have to ask one day, or see if they were fortunate enough to catch you eating. 

Gaz was mostly interested about the birds that swarmed you, the hundreds of corvid that followed you whether it knew you or not, from country to country you always had a feathery companion by your side. Mostly crows and ravens, the black feathers glistening under the light and squawking at him, a hybrid of the same genus as it. 

“I can feel and see through their eyes.”

It was similar to a hive mind, a connection between you and every bird from the same family as crows. You closed your eyes and had the magpie in your hand fly around, its eye moving from one hybrid to the other with an intelligent gleam, a dark and monstrous haze that came from you. You were looking at them from the magpie’s dark orbs. It landed on Gazwho - with a joyful grin - brushed its luscious feathers. You could reach out to corvidae birds, seeking help from them through their sight and ears, using their senses to navigate the world. 

“I can see, hear and feel every bird,” you drawled, hand reaching out of the window for a landing rook. “I feel them as much as they feel me.”

“An extension of ye, aye?”

“An extension of my being.”

Alejandro and Rudy would sometimes chime in, throwing a question from their seat, mostly about your hobbies and preferences. What did you do when you were free? You just sat outside, admiring the weather with a few cooing birds being fed from the seeds in your hands, little round pebbles that you offered from your palm. You also liked reading, dabbing into human and hybrid literature in an attempt to familiarise yourself with their culture and behaviours or watching people conduct themselves through the eyes of your little companions. 

That’s how you came to join the army, the odd behaviour and unusual attitude of most soldiers were excused by their harrowing experience and near-death meetings. You could blend in easier while keeping a slight uncanniness to your being, not necessarily perfect or impossibly broken. You were knowledgeable of military tactics and human suspicion, you were - essentially - a being of madness and chaos, you could sense the swirling tornadoes of malicious suspicion and the violent storms that promised a chaotic end. 

“What did you do then?” This was Ghost’s first question, his slow, yet intrigued tone rising in tone as was his want to know you won over his contained curiosity. 

Faking your deaths every time and laying low for the next decade or so had assured your safety from human cults and pagenistic beliefs who wanted to believe in something greater and deranged. Under different names - none were your true name - you enrolled in the British military and other countries, rotating between the Navy, the Army and the Air Force. Your last enrolment was the British Air Force, under another alias for the past decade until the UN made it mandatory to accept any demands from hybrids and monsters to join their ranks.

When Soap asked how you met Price, you grew pensive, blinking at the question he shot. Then you stared at him, telling him that you couldn’t tell him that story without Price’s consent. You only mentioned him working under you before without divulging to the five men any more information. They’d have to bring it up with the dragon if they wanted to know anything. Gaz and Soap groaned, pouting and whining at the limit you put down on the amount of information they could get from you. 

Then they wanted to know if you dreamed, if Eldritch creatures dreamed in their slumber. If you did, would your dreams be stalked by madness? That dark and dangerous madness that loomed over any person. A creation of human and hybrid minds when they couldn’t understand anything, when reality was outside of their reach. Or, if you did, would they be filled with memories? As often as people re-lived their memories in their sleep, replaying the what ifs that the mind concocted during stressful moments in their lives.

You shook your head, you could neither dream, nor need sleep. Although it wasn’t a need like mortal beings, you enjoyed sleeping from time to time, on days where the night seemed to stretch so far into time that it seemed unending from your seat on the roof. When you slept, you confessed to them that you couldn’t see, feel or ear, it was an endless plane of darkness who reached into the farthest point of your long life, the watery floor reflected back your human - or sometimes monstrous - appearance and the place would be eerily silent except for the echoing drip from an unknown source; perhaps the ticking seconds of your eternity. 

They’d all seen the good and bad in humanity, the horrors that greed and corruption could lead to, but they had less than half a century of experience while you had a millennia of living. Rather than seeing the disgust of their current time, you’d seen the world rise as fast as it crumbled, burned to ash by greed, corruption and selfishness. How could you even stand living around humans? How could you stay so patient towards humans? How could you work and dedicate your last century to them?

“It was easier,” you hummed, staring off at the setting sun, the warm caress of the sun smoothing the darkness in your eyes. “Time changed, it made humans less susceptible to hysteria and superstition. Eating, hunting and catching became harder, scientific advancement made them less… naive, so I adapted. Inherently, I am a creation of humanity’s fear of death and madness. I cannot die without the other disappearing.”

Soap managed to coax you into joining them, sitting between him and Horangi while Ghost and König sparred, their strength and prowess usually better suited to fight something of similar capabilities. Ghost was deadly if he let himself go too far, his vitriol taking away his ability to see and think clearly, making his powers lash out. It could eat and corrode, break things down to the bones without consuming anything, it felt like a curse at times and a blessing at others. It was a reason why he kept himself covered, from letting a piece of himself wander too far, to let himself grow too comfortable that he might suddenly crack and hurt the people he cared for. 

Ghost guessed it was the same for König, married to his sniper veil - or a big t-shirt at times - and his form-covering clothes, it stopped him from doing something irreparable. He had anxiety, a product of his life-long social reclusivenessfrom bullying. Maybe he would’ve turned worse if his mother hadn’t been so supportive of him, a caring and loving figure in his life when his father was never in the picture. König was a lumbering beast in humans clothes, but an impulsive and instinctual monster when shifted, following his needs and instincts. 

Rare monsters on their own, they spared together only, afraid of accidentally hurting one of theirs. You’d seen them fight, the bloodlust-leading adrenaline that coursed through their bodies while they terre through the field, not only these two but the whole Task Force, beasts within beasts. The power, the accuracy, the teamwork and the trust between them was mesmerising, even to you, a creature who lived to seam discord into the world; it was breathtaking. 

You watched them exchange blows, König pouncing on Ghost, pressing his whole weight on the block the wraith had built up against him. König was tall and broad, but Ghost was broader, his body in a shape of undying and unchanging physique, at its peak with human strength. He could withstand the force of König’s hits, blocking them with his forearms and palms, and returning them with a hit when he broke the Austrian’s stand. 

Horangi was counting their matches, voicing the scores when one of them tapped three times, forfeiting the match. Soap piped up left, right and centre, a flurry of words in Scottish that others would usually ignore or not understand, but with you, he liked going off in Scott. Thank the lucky star you understood him, he practically beamed the day he swore at the sky with jargons that everyone but you asked for a translation. 

It was comfortable, Soap spoke enough for the three of you, Horangi was purring softly beside you and you were simply taking everything in, finding comfort between two of your teammates. You nod and shake your head at most questions, words slipping through your lips on rare occasions where Soap asked something that simple motions couldn’t answer. You liked listening to them talk, it filled the silence you were used to with joyful laughter. You were content with simply listening without talking, yet Soap was an enthusiastic wolf, eyes narrowing with a sly gleam.

“Ye spar, Crow?”

You shook your head, gazing at him from the corner of your eyes, blinking owlishly. You had your reservations as well, more so for the safety of others than yours. Granted, you had a milenia to learn and draw a limit for yourself, to restrain your powers to a tenth of your strength to protect those you grew to care about.

“Aw, why naw?”

“Too dangerous, Soap.”

That caught Horangi’s attention, his eyes and ears straying from the spar to listen to your conversation, not that it bothered you. 

“Can’t be that bad, can it?”

At this point, König and Ghost were brought out of their haze, shoulders raising and skin coated in a sheen of sweat, they breathed heavily as they strained an ear to Soap’s encouragement. Limbs untangling from one another, they leaned on the flexible cords of the ring, amused eyes staring at you three. 

“It can be.”

“Why not give it a shot, yeah?” Ghost piped up, head tilted with his nose pointing up, an amusingly smug grin stretching his scarred lips.

“If not Soap, Ghost or I could fight you, nh?” König continued, who - unlike Ghost - had his head down, blinking lazily at you with squinted eyes, a smile hidden under the shirt he used as a veil.

You were hesitant, staring at them while you mulled over your choices: to either fold and appease their curiosity or to hold strong and reject the offer. But where was the fun in that? They looked giddy and excited, like pups finding out that they were getting treats. Soap was riddled with enthusiasm, leg jumping as fast as his wagging tail, the repetitive soft thuds from his tail hitting against the bench showed how much he expected you to say yes, how much he wanted to see you fight one of theirs. 

You truly wanted to decline, to tell them that you wouldn’t want to accidentally hurt them, knowing that your restraint was practised with ease, but they didn’t know that. You truly did, but with Horangi’s swaying and thrilled tail, König’swide and happy eyes, and Ghost’s soft rumble, groundingly affirmative, adding to Soap’s eagerness, you found it difficult to brush off by their wishes. 

Soap burst with joy when you nodded, pushing himself and Horangi closer to the ring. You jumped over the big cables and into the ring as Ghost moved out, it seemed that the two decided the order even before you agreed. You shrugged off your jacket, you tight shirt riding up your stomach, the soft fabric the same shade as your dark blue jacket. Hanging it on a pole, you turned to face a thrilled König, his body vibrating as he peered down at you. 

It was almost ridiculous how different you were to him. You were neither board nor tall as König and Ghost, you weren’t insanely big and buff like any of them either. You were normal, an average person surrounded with big hybrids. You wouldn’t fault anyone for believing that you were the weakest out of the bunch, seemingly too small and human like to be the strongest, but they knew, most monsters and hybrids had this instinctual fear - ingrained into them for as long as they existed - for monsters that looked too human. 

Horangi was once again nominated as the referee, he repeated the rules, anything went as long as the opposite party’s aware of the three taps for yielding. Hybrids were tougher and more resilient than human bodies, so most restrictions put in place for humans were lifted in hybrid spars, especially in this Task Force. 

At the end of the count, König charged you, his big body pouncing on your smaller and nimbler one. You moved and bowed when he lunged, feet dancing around his loud stomps. He growled, jabbing at you with his right hand and lunging with a left hook when you blocked his hit with your forearm. It was a back and forth motion, he took the offensive position while you stayed on the defensive, taking hits leg and right. After a right hook, you expected a jab, but Königbowed down and kicked out his leg, aiming at sweeping you off your feet. It was a great change in tactic, surprising you with his quick movement. 

You kicked up, hands firmly placed on his shoulder as you flipped over him. Soap whooped at your acrobatic move, moving and jumping around like a dancer - a gymnastic chorus - while König rushed frenziedly, strong hits and wide kicks, his body giving him a wider range than your shorter one. König growled, twisting in a crouch to tackle you down, his body was a weapon by itself. You landed with a grunt, wrapping your legs around him, one under his arm and the other around his neck. His hand latched to the arm you used to guard your throat while wrestling with his other one. 

He cackled in your guard, voice rumbling out his chest as you choked him, lean legs hooking by the ankle to hold his chest down. His legs kicked, kneeling down uncomfortably, choking down a loud snarl. König tried breaking your hold, but you held strongly, using your monstrous strength to keep him down. He tapped your thigh, three soft taps that made you loosen your lock. König rose first, panting loudly with a satisfied purr as he sat, arched forward. Standing before him, you waved your hand to him, giving him help to stand on his feet. 

Ghost had already joined you when you pulled König up, patting the giant’s back as he chuckled lowly, eyes squinted in amazement. 

“Yer awright, König?” Soap asked, still standing beside a clapping Horangi, both tails moving excitedly. 

“Yes, I’m all right.”

Unlike König, you were as winded or tired as he was, your metabolism working slowly and efficiently to survive for so long. It was a good show of power for König, to see what fought on his side rather than against him, but he doubted that you were the only Eldritch being working in the forefront, killing, consuming and hide in plain sight of other human and hybrids. 

“That was Brazilian Jiu-jitsus, wasn’t it,” it was more of an affirmation than a question, Horangi knew well the technique you used against König. 

He’d mentioned it in passing within the few drunken nights where you joined them at the bar, spewing his history of gambling on boxer in the ring, betting who would win for a few pennies to fill his pockets. You rarely used your hive mind on them i their leisure time, respecting their need for privacy and secrecy when you were away —they’d won your trust after a few Ops and proud and boisterous praises from Price. You shook away any lingering thoughts as you watched Ghost slip under the highest cord, entering the ring with tight fists and a mean stare, determined to get you once before he forfeited. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad that Soap forced you to watch with both him and Horangi, you - despite your tendency for your quiet corner and solace in darkness - enjoyed this team activity. 

You were regretting letting Gaz and Rudy pull you to the Mess Hall, insisting that you’d be left alone in their corner of the cafeteria. People rarely engaged them when they all sat together, whispers of them being too menacing, too dangerous, or too scary for human minds. You weren’t fond of cold and stored meat, the cold destroying any semblance of freshness that recently killed meat brought. It tasted stagnant, blank of any fulfilling aspect your kills had : from the lack of warm blood still leaking from every veins and arteries, to the suppleness of the flesh, it’s soft and flexible texture cutting easily under your teeth. 

You nearly gagged at the first whiff of it, locked under expectant eyes of both your teammates and curious eyes of others who’ve never seen you step a foot in the room. Your first bite was horrendous, your mouth washed with the revolting flavour of cold and stale meat. It was levels under your usual meal —not that you needed to eat, you’d recently eaten a few days ago on a shorter run in Argentina, but where was the harm in tasting military-provided meat when König and Ghost ate it without a second thought. Or so you thought, they’d simply gone numb, not having the luxury to be picky with the taste of their meal. Unlike you, they hadn’t spent centuries hunting for themselves, born into a restrictive world when monsters and creatures ran wild but hidden. 

But you still hunted, it was a ritual that even the world’s government couldn’t stop you, no one would fight one of the personalisation of chaos and madness, many having decided to abide by your word simply out of fear while very few respected your history and culture. 

“How is it?” Alejandro finally join your table, sweat still glistening from his brows as he cut into his steak with gentle and skillful slices.

“Stale,” you blinked, tongue lolling out of your mouth to lick the red stains on your face, long and serpentine, another aspect of your more reptilian body.

They snickered, knowing full well how repulsive it was, sharing their little quips and jabs about the quality of food everyone on base got. A few lines about the chefs being lazy, others of them being awful and some about them being talentless, followed by shared laughter around you, shaking shoulders and bright smiles before the table exploded in chatter, guilefully ignoring the world outside the safety of their bubble. 

Maybe… just maybe sitting - you’d never lay a single finger on these provided meals - with them when they ate would lighten up your world slightly, bring some flavourful warmth if it made them happy that you joined them. You refrained from saying anything, simply nodding at them and giving a small smile that seemed to brighten up their faces, restraining your interaction to a few gesture to stop yourself from feeling overwhelmed with the suddenness of emotions. Th last one who’d stirred your hearts so vividly was years ago, watching over a still learning John Price.

Taglist: @warenai @capricorn-anon @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @haven-1307 @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @mxblobby @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

[jjkfemimagine]

moments early in the relationship that made you fall in love with them

“I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends…”

moments early in the relationship that made you fall in love with them | fem! jjk x reader

Gojo: When Gojo asked you to go on a trip with her, you were excited but slightly nervous. She didn’t tell you exactly where the two of you were going, just that it was out of the country and to pack at least two nice pieces of clothing. 

You had been stressed, looking through every item you owned, trying to decide what was considered nice, and your room had become a mess as you threw clothes everywhere, frustrated that nothing seemed good enough. You were practically in tears. The two of you left in two days, and it wasn’t enough time to buy something and then have it tailored if it needed to be. 

You hear a knock at your door, and thinking it was your neighbor bringing back a pan that they used, headed to greet them. 

What greeted you instead was your girlfriend, standing tall and excitedly in front of you. She was somehow balancing a bag and two to-go cups of boba. “Baby!” she exclaimed happily. “Can I come in? I brought your favorite!” 

You stare up at her beautiful face, sunglasses covering her magnificent eyes, and are struck once again by how perfect she was. Her pearly white teeth, her grin, her long white hair, her body — and how she always seemed to pop up with something for you at the exact timing you need it without even knowing. 

She makes herself at home, placing down the bag and two drinks on your coffee table, and you head in her direction after closing the door and locking it in place. As soon as you get close enough, she reaches out, making grabby hands and pulling you into a huge hug where she rocks the two of you back and forth. The scent of her perfume made all your anxiety fly out the window. In this moment there was only you, and the most kindhearted woman you had ever met. 

She pulls back and gives you a quick kiss, before taking in your expression. Gojo was very hard to fool, especially when it came to how you were truly feeling. “What’s wrong, baby?” 

“Nothing,” you say, holding onto her still. She runs one of her hands soothingly up and down your back. 

“It doesn’t seem like nothing, love.” 

You fall silent, and Gojo doesn’t press again, though you can tell she’s waiting for you to continue. The two of you had only been dating for three months, but she never failed to decode how you were truly feeling. She gave you time to process things, but had always circled back to asking about what bothered you.

“It’s just…this trip.” 

Her eyebrows furrow, but she doesn’t interrupt you. 

“You said to pack at least two pieces of nice clothing, and I’ve been stressed with packing. I have no idea what the plans are, and nothing seems right, if you know what I mean. Also, please don’t go into my room; clothes are everywhere and it looks as though my bed has been hit by a tornado.” 

There’s silence for a minute before Gojo begins to laugh at you. You look at her as she does, wondering what’s going on inside her head, when she clasps her hands together, and says, “Let’s play dress up then!”

You continue to stare at her, dumbfounded as you say, “Huh?” 

“Yeah, like Project Runway! I’ll sit here on this couch, and you can change into the different ideas you have, and I can rate them like a judge! It’ll be really fun, and I think it'll make you feel better.” 

Your face breaks out into a soft smile at her idea. “Not a bad idea,” you tell her, and drag her into a quick kiss by tugging her towards you. 

“I never have bad ideas, baby! But first, let’s eat!” 

Geto: I’m so sorry, I think I’ll have to reschedule for tonight, is what greets your eyes when you look down at your phone near the end of your workday. 

You were finishing up the paperwork required after a mission, and had been excited to see your girlfriend after a long day. 

It wasn’t like Geto to cancel a hangout, so you’re immediately worried. You quickly type back, Is everything okay? 

Nanako and Mimiko are sick. They’re both sniffling and running slight fevers and have the chills. I want to stay with them and make sure they’re okay. I’m so sorry, baby. 

No reason to be sorry, you respond. Can I bring you anything? 

It takes Geto a minute to respond, and you’re strangely anxious. You two had only been going out for two months, despite knowing each other for much longer. You didn’t want to be pushy, or overstep, especially since the girls are Geto’s pride and joy. 

Actually, if you can get some cold medicine at the store and drop it off, that would be great. Are you sure? 

You snort before responding, Of course I’m sure. I’ll be there with medicine in less than an hour!

As soon as you get off work, you head to the store and pick up some medicine for the girls (the kind that doesn’t taste bad costs more, but you would literally kill someone for them, so it was very miniscule to you) and then head to Geto’s. 

When you arrive at her home, you knock on the door and it opens to reveal your girlfriend, her hair tied up opposed to her typical half-up half-down style. She wore sweatpants rather than her robes, and a bit of the stress on her face alleviates when she sees you. She steps back and allows you in before wrapping you in a huge hug. 

The two of you rock side to side, and immediately, when her familiar scent comes to you, you relax into her even more. “Thank you for getting medicine,” she says, pulling back and giving you a quick fix. “How much do I owe you?”

You arch an eyebrow, “‘How much do I owe you?’ You owe me nothing, Suguru. I would do anything for you and the girls.” 

A soft smile that she only allows you to see settles on her face, and your heart feels so warm. “Thank you, baby,” she says before giving you another kiss. “Let me take some to the girls.” 

You help your girlfriend carry glasses of water and two small measuring cups of medicine to the girls. They were staying in the same room, as they grew quite adorably clingy to one another when the other was ill. 

What you didn’t expect, however, was the way your very soul exploded as Geto squats next to Mimiko, brushing her hand gently across the girl’s forehead to wake her up. When Mimiko stirs, letting out a groan, Ghetto gently shushes her and tells her to take some medicine. She repeats the very same action with Nanako, and the thought hits you like a hundred bricks: I am falling so, so deeply in love with Geto Suguru. 

Nanami: You had gone for a night out with Shoko and Utahime to a bar, pounding back drink after drink. It had been extremely fun, and you were drunk by the time the night was called for. Utahime and Shoko were staying the night in Shoko’s place, and they offered for you to stay with them, but you shook your head stubbornly, the world spinning. 

“I wan’ my g-girlfriend,” you slur out. Hiccuping, you add, “I need…to call…Kento. She’s so, so p-pretty.” 

Shoko burst out with laughter, Utahime joining her as they shared a look. 

“Alright, alright, let’s call your girlfriend to come pick you up. We’ll stay here with you until she comes.” 

You hadn’t even talked to Nanami about picking you up or being a designated driver, but you squinted down at your phone as you tried to scroll through your contacts. All the names blurred together, and you’re swaying side to side from how fucked up you were. The realization hits you, though it doesn’t necessarily sober you. “W-wait! I, I didn’t ask her to pick me up. She…asleep…” 

“Wow, you’re really drunk,” observes Utahime, steadying you with her arm around your shoulders. “And you don’t need to worry about that. Nanami would drop anything for you.” 

“Don’t want to interrupt her sleep,” you slur. Shoko was smoking, and she snorted at your words. 

“Trust me, you’re her first priority. I’ll call her right now for you. No doubt she stayed up to pick you up and make sure you got home safely.” 

“Noooo, don’t bother herrrrr.” 

“Too late,” Shoko says, phone pressed against her ear. “Nanami? Yeah. Can you come pick her up? We’re at that one small bar in Shinjuku.” She pauses, then snickers. “I knew you’d be up and waiting. You’ll be here in 5 minutes? Alright. We’re standing outside.” 

You let out a whine, “Is’ only,” you stare at the screen on your phone with all your concentration to make out the blurry numbers. “Is’ only 1:24 A.M. We can still dance! Dance with me, Utahimeee!” You grab your friend and begin jumping up and down. You were still convinced you could keep going, and your friends silently sent out a prayer for the blonde sorcerer who was going to be taking care of you. 

You were making Utahime rock back and forth with you until a car pulled up next to your group. You turn to look and see the foggy form of your girlfriend. By now, you had completely forgotten that you were worried about Nanami staying up this late, too focused on the warmth in your body and the electric shock that went through your system at seeing your lover. 

“Nanami!” you cried out, stumbling in your heels in her direction. “My baby! You’re here!” 

Nanami had walked quickly to where you were swaying on your feet and wrapped her arm protectively around your waist, supporting your weight easily. You lean against her, laughing. 

“Nanami, have I ever told you,” you hiccup again, “how beautiful you are. Ahh, I have the best girlfriend ever, so tall, so strong, so beautiful, s-so p-perfect, and kind, and soooo pretty.”

Nanami shakes her head at you, and though she seems exasperated anyone sober could see her lovesick gaze. “I think you’ve mentioned it before, sweetheart. Now, come, we should get you home to lay down, hm? I’ll help you get ready for bed.” 

“Fine,” you pout, before turning around and attempting to run away when Nanami lets her guard down. “Nooo! I wanna dance!” 

Nanami had chased after you, and easily caught up. 

And then she does something that sobers you up: She grabs you easily and picks you up. You immediately grab onto her out of instinct, and she begins walking back to the car. Onlookers are giggling at the scene, but Nanami effortlessly opens the passenger door and gently places you inside. 

(Shoko had definitely been recording the whole thing secretly.) 

Nanami gets into the driver seat, and begins the ride home. It’s quiet until you begin to whine. “My feet huuuurrttt.” 

“I can massage them when we get back, how about that?” Nanami says, leaning over, and places her warm, calloused hand on your thigh. “If you’re a good girl for me, and listen to me, I’ll get you a treat tomorrow while you’re hungover, hm?”

Oh. 

Shoko: Many would assume you would realize you loved Shoko while she was treating your injury. And while this was a good guess, it was not reality. 

You realized you loved Shoko after you had sex for the first time. 

You had never been with anyone before, man or woman, but Shoko had surprisingly had many sexual partners to the point she knew what to do. 

So after she had fingered your pussy so well you had cum around her fingers, gotten eaten out for the first time ever, and gotten fucked with her strap, you knew it was love. You wouldn’t have allowed anyone to go that far if you didn’t love them. 

The thought, I think I’m truly head over heels, came when she cleaned you both up and had started a warm bath for the both of you. She sat behind you, and you were in a blissful haze as she used her nails to scrape into your scalp lovingly as her chest was pressed against your back, her long legs bracketing yours. 

Her touches were so gentle. She had been gentle earlier too as it had been your first time and she didn’t want to make you more nervous. And now, here you were, taking a bath with the most beautiful doctor in the world, as she softly says, “You were so good, honey, so perfect for me. Thank you for allowing me to touch you like that. I adore you, pretty. My good girl.” 

Safe to your heart melted. 

Yuki: The thought came, much like many things with Yuki, as a sudden one. 

You had planned to go out on a nighttime ride on her motorcycle, and as she fixes your helmet for you, she leans forward and kisses the visor right in front of your lips, and you can’t help the grin that comes to your face. 

She coos, “You’re so cute in this helmet. I promise you’ll be safe with me, honey. If you get scared at all, and it’s too much, just tap on my waist three times. Are you ready?” 

Despite your anxiety, you were excited for this experience with your girlfriend, especially knowing how much she loves her motorcycle. You wanted desperately to share this with her, so you say confidently, “I’ll be fine, Yuki. I promise. Let’s go!” 

“That’s what I like to hear!” she says excitedly, sliding onto the motorcycle. You slip on behind her, and wrap your arms around her waist as she takes off. 

It was beautiful, truly, watching the city lights fly away. It was as if the two of you were flying, the beautiful countryside lit by street lamps going past you. You let out a laugh as the night air thrilled you, and you didn’t have to look at Yuki’s face to know she was smiling. 

She made a turn down a dirt path, and you were a bit concerned as she kept going until she entered what is the most magnificent flower field in the world. The moonlight reflected off all the bright colors, the rows of tulips and sunflowers and chrysanthemums all lined up in perfect rows. She parks her bike at the end of a row in the middle of the field, shutting it off and taking off her helmet before turning to you. She helps you take your helmet off, and then gently guides you off the motorcycle. 

You looked around in awe, taking in all the beautiful flowers. It truly looked like something out of a dream — a beautiful field, on a beautiful night, with a beautiful woman. You never would have guessed you would be so lucky to experience something like this or experience having someone like Yuki as a lover. 

“How did you find this place?” you ask Yuki, turning to look at the taller woman. 

She grins, winking at you. “That’s a secret, baby. I come here when I want to clear my thoughts. It’s pretty, isn’t it?” 

You stare up at the moon, hanging brightly in the late summer sky. “Yes, it’s beautiful.” 

(You were unaware of Yuki watching you like a hawk. She was tempted to say something cheesy like Not as beautiful as you, but decided not to for once.) 

“Stay here, I’ll be right back and we can continue our date!” Yuki cries loudly, and after blowing you a kiss, she walks into the part of the field with the sunflowers. She’s a tall woman, but they were so tall they hid her frame once she was engulfed in them. 

You stay there, taking in the ethereal nighttime all around you, though you were curious about where Yuki was going. The two of you usually walked hand in hand, so you wonder why she took off without you. Maybe she’s planning to jump out and scare me…? 

You hear a rustle, and see Yuki running back to you with a big grin on her face, a whole bunch of flowers in one hand. She stops a foot in front of you before getting down on one knee. 

Your heart skips a beat as she exclaims, “A handmade bouquet by yours truly for my one and only type! My one and only girl!” She holds out the flowers, and you dumbly reach out to take them, successfully turned to mush. You were sure you would have melted into a puddle if it was physically possible. 

Just as you open your mouth to respond, you hear shouting in the distance. You both turn your heads at the same time to see a figure in the distance, and a voice that sounded like an old man screaming out, “You again?! How many times do I have to tell you to stay the hell out of my field?!” 

You and Yuki turn to one another, share one glance, and then immediately run to her motorcycle, hurrying to put on your helmets. She takes the flowers from you as you finish putting yours on, and you take it back and jump on the bike as the old man gets closer, still shouting. 

“Hold on, babygirl! Off we go!” She reeves the engine, and turns her head back as she shouts to the farmer, “Sorry!” 

You can’t help but burst out laughing, and she joins you. You’re both breathless and in tears from how hard you were guffawing at the situation. Hearing her giggle lit up the night, gripping onto the bouquet she haphazardly made you, you feel an unexplainable feeling settle over you. The scent of the flowers tickles your nose, blown by the wind cutting around the motorcycle. 

Oh, I’m falling in love. 

Sukuna: Kills a man for you.

[wizard-on-whales]

Snowed in

I'm not sure if I qualify for the contest, and it's completely fine if I don't, but I wanted to include a fic anyway :)

I've actually had an idea like this in my head for a while now so I finally have an excuse to write it

Warnings: Mentions of hunting, injury, cursing, mentions of blood and needles, smut, slight angst, slow burn?, older reader (I know.. again.. sorry)

This one's a long one so buckle up... 8.1k words

✭-----------------------------✭

Every year James would take a trip up to a small hunting cabin he owned in the middle of nowhere in the mountains of Washington state. This year his plans were no different, besides with his recent struggles after getting out of rehab he didn't want to go alone. So that's how you ended up tagging along with him. You and James had been close friends all of your life, your band and his band getting along and touring for years. So it was no surprise to you when he asked if you wanted to take the trip with him. So now here you were on the back of a snowmobile, arms wrapped around James’ waist and he navigated through the thick snow and overgrowth to the old cabin.

Despite its rough for wear shape on the outside, with its dirty, old glass windows, and the roof sagging slightly, the inside was spotless. And much to your surprise, knowing how James can be, everything seemed to have a place and was well organized. You had never been up here with him before as it had always been some kind of safe haven for him to get away from everyone for a few weeks. You kicked the snow off of your boots, placing them on the mat by the front door as you stepped inside. The cabin had running water but no electricity which meant the only heat source you could get from the bitter cold was from the old iron wood stove in the corner. James wasted no time as he threw several logs into it, lighting them up. The small room was quickly engulfed in the warmth it put off.

You continued to study the cabin, looking over the old drawings James had done and pinned to the walls. You smiled as you studied them, always loving the strange doodles he would sketch.

“You're the first person I've brought here,” He spoke, sniffing slightly as his nose ran from the cold. You turn to look back at him huddled in his oversized winter coat, his red nose pressed against the scarf he had on.

“Really? I'm honored to be the first,” You give him a genuine smile that he returns before continuing to look around. He has a few photos of his family hung up, a few with his kids, some with his band mates, and even a few with you. You laugh softly as you pull one off the wall. It was a photo from yours and James’ senior prom. Neither of you wanted to go but his older brother and your mom insisted on it and made you go anyway.

“That dress was hideous,” You exclaim, staring at the very 70s looking prom dress your mom had picked out for you. The bottom was ruffled and billowed out, the sleeves three times too big. And your hair was teased to the max. James laughs as he looks over your shoulder to get a glimpse of the photo.

“At least you looked decent,” You giggle, looking at a young James wearing his little tux and bowtie. His hair wasn't much different from how he wore it for several years after, fluffed out, bangs in his face, and as blonde as ever.

“You don't look that bad,” James says, trying not to laugh. You turn and hit him in the chest, letting out a snort as he teases you. James takes the photo from your hand, admiring it for a few seconds longer before putting it back with the others. His smile quickly turns into a frown as he takes in a few of the other photos. Several being him and his now ex wife. You knew the divorce had hit him hard and you had tried your best to offer him comfort the past few years after he had told you about it. James takes the photos down, stacking them into a pile and covering them. You give him a soft smile, resting your hand on his back and rubbing it through the thick fabric of his coat.

“It'll get better,” You say quietly, trying to offer some condolence. James nods his head, letting out a sigh.

“Yeah, I know,” He says sadly, stepping away from the photos and turning his attention back to the fire. He doesn't speak any longer as he opens the small door on the stove and pokes at the hot coals with a metal rod.

“If you're hungry I can probably fix us something,” You speak, breaking the sullen silence that had fallen over the cabin. You glance out the small window next to the door as you wait for his answer. The snowmobile sat just outside, a small sled attached to the back holding all of the gear you would need for the next few weeks.

“Yeah I could use a bite of something,” He speaks as he closes the door and sets the rod down. You answer by nodding your head before slipping your boots back on and stepping back into the cold. The wind nips at your face, instantly turning your cheeks red. You couldn't lie to yourself that you felt alone as you looked around. Despite James' company, the rural area and the jagged mountains around you made you feel a little uneasy. The trees that surrounded the cabin were tall, bushy pine trees that seemed to blend perfectly into the sky. The heavy white snow clung to their branches causing them to creak and groan with every gust of wind. You shivered, not being able to comprehend how James could spend days up here by himself.

You tread through the thick snow, following the same footsteps you made as you came in. James follows you out to help you unload the gear and drag it all into the cabin. He helped you carry the canvas and leather bags, grabbing the ones he knew would be too heavy for you to lift. He threw them over his shoulders with no problem as he walked back inside. You grabbed your own bag and one of the coolers full of food before following him. The snow that had clung to your shoes and the bags melted into the floor, creating small pools of water that sat on the old, polished wood floors. You stare at the puddles, looking around to see if there was anything you could clean them up with so that neither of you slip or get wet. James tosses you a towel, giving you no time to react as it hits you in the face and falls to the floor. He lets out a hearty laugh, watching as you give him an annoyed pout.

“I thought you'd catch it,” He tries to defend himself, his voice still holding back a laugh. You roll your eyes, bending over to grab the towel off of the floor.

“You didn't warn me,” You huff, kneeling down to clean up some of the water and swipe the excess snow back out the door. James closes the door for good once you've finished.

“It's too late in the afternoon to really do anything so we'll just stay in here for the rest of the night,” He explains, kneeling down to organize some of the bags. He finds one of the coolers, pushing it over towards the stove before grabbing one of his own bags. As you finish wiping the floor, you toss the towel on the rubber mat next to the door, knowing you'll need it again. You slip your boots off and place them on the mat as well before sliding your thick coat off and hanging it in the coat rack. You were still bundled in plenty of layers, your sweatshirt warming you enough. You pad over to the cooler James had slid across the floor, the zipper making a loud sound as you pulled on it to open the lid.

“What do you want me to fix? There's plenty in here,” You ask him, watching as he pulls some candles out of his bag to add to the collection of the old, half melted ones he had placed everywhere.

“Uhmm…let's save the more filling things for when we've actually done some stuff. Something light is fine,” He doesn't give you a direct answer as he lights the candles. You take this as your sign to just choose whatever you were in the mood for. You pulled out a box of hamburger helper, deciding that would be plenty for the night.

“Where are the pans?” You ask him, standing up from your spot and looking around the room. James pointed to the small kitchen before speaking up.

“Under the sink.” He replied, going back to lighting the candles. You nod, walking over to the sink and pulling back the small curtain that was fastened underneath. A small stack of pans sat under it. You grab a heavy cast iron skillet, wiping some of the dust off with your hand before walking back to the stove and setting it down on top. You had never cooked on a wood stove before so you didn't know how well it could end but you proceeded on anyway.

As you prepared dinner, James pulled out the sleeping bags and mats, rolling them out on the floor in the corner. The cabin was only the single room, plus the dingy bathroom that had been added who knows how long ago. There wasn't any room for a couch or bed so sleeping on the floor was the only option. You wanted to laugh at him as he unrolled your own sleeping bag right next to his but you knew it would be warmer that way so you bit your tongue. Plus, after years of touring with him and being forced to share a hotel room, privacy didn't exist between the two of you anymore.

“Is that almost done?” He questions, his voice sounding desperate. You roll your eyes at his impatience, glancing back at him.

“Almost…does that clock work?” You reply before asking him a question. You look at the clock above him, seeing the second hand tick as every minute passes. It read 4:30 PM but you glanced outside the window, seeing nothing but darkness. Your heart sped up as you looked out, wondering what could possibly be staring back at you.

“Yeah, it's the same time on my watch,” He answers, looking from the clock, to his watch, back to you. You scoop dinner into a few camp cups, sliding a spoon into each before you join him on the floor.

“Huh, I guess I didn't realize it was getting dark so early already,” You say, knowing it usually gets dark early this time of year, but not realizing just how dark it gets since you're typically near the city lights. James takes his cup from your hand as you hold it out for him, the hot food inside warming up your hands. You both sit on your sleeping bag, backs against the wall as you eat, talking about nothing in particular. It had been so long since you had been able to sit down and have a proper conversation like this with James, you didn't realize just how much you had missed his company. With covid locking you in your house the past year and the general chaos that surrounds touring schedules it was hard to have genuine one on one time. He always had a way of making you laugh until you couldn't breath, even if it was something simple.

As the two of you finished your dinner, scraping the last bits out of the cups the conversation died down to a comfortable silence. The wind howled loudly outside as a small storm moved in from the surrounding mountains. You listen as a lone wolf starts to yelp in the distance, quickly being followed by a whole pack. You can't help but feel anxiety pool in your stomach at the thought of a group of wolves being somewhere close by. The only thing keeping them from you was the thin walls of the cabin. James seemed calm enough as he listened quietly to their howling.

“How do you stand being all the way out here by yourself?” You ask quietly, glancing over at him. He smiled, fiddling with the empty cup in his hands as he thought of an answer.

“It's scary sometimes, but being in the city scares me too. I'd rather be out here like God intended, nothing but trees and animals,” You nod your head at his response, his words being no surprise to you. You reach over and grab his cup from his hand, standing up to take them over to the sink. There was a second window that sat above it, this one slightly bigger. As you rinsed the cups out, you watched the snow fall heavily outside. You had always loved the snow, winter being your favorite since a child. It was magical to watch it fall from the sky, the white powder seeming to stop time and making the world feel quiet and empty.

“Do you remember back in, what, ‘85 I think, when we were driving to your dad's house for Christmas and our car got stuck in the snow and we walked the rest of the way?” James’ voice is quiet as he speaks but you were able to hear it clearly from across the room. You walk back towards him, taking your place next to him as you smile fondly at the memory.

“I thought I was gonna freeze to death, we were idiots for not waiting for someone to pull us out,” James laughs as he remembers the almost 2 hour trek through the thick snow and your complaints the entire way. By the time the two of you had gotten to the house you swore your fingers were going to fall off.

“I remember the way your dad yelled at us for not doing that. I swear I thought he was gonna kill us,” James smiles, shaking his head at the thought. You had always been close with your family and since James had a strained relationship with his, they welcomed him with open arms. Your parents had been second parents to him, inviting him to every holiday and on every vacation. And because of that, your dad didn't hesitate to scold him like his own child.

The two of you continue to talk about old memories, reminding each other of things the other one had long forgotten about. After a while your eyes start to droop as exhaustion starts to set in. You glance up at the clock seeing that it's nearing midnight. You let out a small yawn, stretching your arms.

“It's getting late, we should probably go to bed,” James agrees, looking at the clock himself before shuffling around the cabin to get ready for bed. You both change out of your thick winter gear and into some warm pajamas, not caring about privacy as you had seen it all before. You crawl into your sleeping bag before James, watching as he blows out the candles. Your sleeping bag was in the corner, where James assumed you would have wanted it. His was next to yours so you were trapped between the wall and him as he crawled into his. Despite blowing out all of the candles the cabin was still illuminated by the fire in the stove. He had thrown a few extra logs in before laying down so that it would continue to bring through the night and well into the morning, keeping you as warm as it could. Despite that, you still shivered. The mats underneath the sleeping bags did little to keep your body off of the cold floor and even though you had a few blankets wrapped around you, there was still a lack of warmth. James lay still, his eyes closed as he seemed content, he was always hot so you assumed he wasn't as cold as you were. You curled up further, bringing your legs to your chest as you tossed and turned, trying to fight the cold and fall asleep.

“Are you cold?” James whispered, his voice already laced with sleep.

“Freezing,” you huff, rubbing your hands up and down your legs in an attempt to get rid of some of the goose bumps. James pulled his hand out, unzipping his sleeping bag and holding it open.

“Come here then,” He says casually. It wasn't the first time the two of you had cuddled, it was a frequent thing when the two of you were younger. Several lonely nights were spent in eachothers arms as you looked for comfort in one another. Although sharing a sleeping bag seemed like a new level of close proximity. You hesitate for a second but the idea of his warmth pressed against you made you give in. You crawled out of your sleeping bag, dragging one of the blankets with you before scooting into his. He zips it back up as you press your back to his chest and rest your head on his pillow. He puts his arm back into the sleeping bag, wrapping it around your waist before dropping his head back onto the pillow, his face in your hair.

With him pressed against you, your goosebumps quickly faded and sleep began to overtake you. The comfort of his arms and the warmth of his body seemed to rock you to sleep instantly. But maybe it was just an instinct from the many times he had practically rocked you to sleep when you've cried over something and confided in him. He knew how to calm you down quickly, as did you with him. For years, you were the only person he would cry in front of, the only person he felt he could be vulnerable with, to be his true self with. And because of that, you in his arms felt right, it always had.

The sound of James snoring loudly in your ear is what woke you up the next morning. You shifted in his arms, looking at him. His silver hair was tousled all over the place and his mouth hung open slightly as he snores, drool pooling onto the pillow and onto your hair. You scrunch your face in disgust, pulling your hair away and wiping some of his saliva off of it. You quietly and slowly unzipped the sleeping bag, crawling out of James grasp without waking him. He stirred slightly, closing his mouth but continued to snore.

You slip on a hoodie over your long sleeve shirt, hoping to stay warmer as you start to prepare breakfast. The logs that James had thrown into the stove the night before had burned down to small coals so you threw a few more on, poking at them to get a fire started. You open up the cold foods cooler and pull a pack of sausage out along with a bag of frozen potatoes to make for breakfast. The cast iron skillet from last night was still on the stove top so you quickly take it to the sink to rinse it out before setting it back down, dumping the food into it. James stirs again, turning on to his back and rubbing his eyes.

“Good morning,” you speak quietly, your voice still groggily. He opens his eyes and looks at you, giving you a small smile before returning your words.

“You sure you don't wanna go with me today?” James asks as he sits up. When he invited you on the trip you gladly accepted but you told him you didn't want to be involved in the actual hunting process. Your soft spot for animals would make it difficult to watch if he found something to shoot. So, instead of going out into the woods with him and tracking a deer or elk, you told him you would stay back at the cabin.

“I'm sure, I'll probably just get in your way anyway,” You tell him, stirring the food in the pan so that it doesn't burn or stick. He nods his head, slipping out of his sleeping bag and getting dressed for the day. The kitchen had a small island with two wooden chairs pushed under it so he pulled one out and sat down as you finished up breakfast. You scoop the potato and sausage mixture onto two separate plates, handing one to him and sitting down next to him.

“So when you're out there do you walk around the whole time or do you find a place to stop and stay there for the day?” You question his hunting tactics, taking a bite of your food. He explains them to you as the two of you eat.

“I usually find some tracks to follow for a little while and once I feel like I've gotten close I'll hunker down and stay quiet,” James quickly scarfed down his food before he started to rummage through his gear, getting his things ready. He throws a backpack on, slinging his gun over his shoulder before looking back at you as you finish the last bites of breakfast.

“You gonna be okay here by yourself?” He asks, his face trying to hide its concern. He knew you could handle yourself but that didn't stop him from worrying.

“I'll be okay, I brought a few books so I'll probably just read. Please be safe,” You tell him, worrying about him as well. James nods his head and tells you his goodbyes before he steps outside and disappears for the day. You hear the snowmobile start up and drive off, the noise from it fading as he leaves. The cabin was even quieter without him, the only noise coming from the crackling of the fire and the ticking of the clock. You glance over at it, seeing the time reads 8 am. You let out a small sigh, wondering how to pass the time before you decide to organize some of your things better. All of the gear was still thrown into a pile in the middle of the cabin from when you arrived yesterday afternoon. It doesn't take you long to organize the bags, placing the food coolers onto the kitchen counters, your clothing bags next to your sleeping bags, and everything else piled near the door. You grab a book from your bag, sitting back down on your sleeping bag deciding that's how you would pass time until James came back.

As the hours went by a storm started to pick up outside. You set your book down, getting up to look out the window. The wind blows harshly, snow flying every which way which makes it hard for you to see anything. The dark storm clouds overhead cast a shadow over the forest, darkening it more than you liked. Your heart speeds up, thinking about James being trapped somewhere in this. You stay planted by the window, watching the storm get worse minute by minute, praying James is safe. The wind howls loudly, causing the cabin to creak with each harsh gust it blows. The trees outside twist and turn, throwing heavy piles of snow off of them. Any one of them could fall at any minute, crashing through the cabin or trapping James under one while he's out there. Finally after what seems like forever, you hear the snowmobiles engine off in the distance. You rip the door open, keeping a heavy hold on It so that it doesn't get blown off of its hinges. You scream his name over the wind, hoping he can hear you. The cold chill pierces through your clothes like a thousand needles, the snow blows against your face, causing you to bring your arm up to cover it. James pulls up, quickly turning the snowmobile off before stumbling inside, grabbing your arm to pull you in. You slam the door behind you, locking it so that the wind can't enter.

“Are you okay?” You sat frantically, keeping a hold on him. You couldn't see his face since he had his hood pulled tightly over him, his snow blinds were fastened over his eyes and a scarf pulled up over his nose. He drops his bag and gun by the door, pulling his gear off of his face.

“Yeah…yeah kind of,” he says out of breath. He has a small cut on his cheek, which catches your attention, you grab his arm to pull him closer but he winces harshly as you do, ripping his arm away. You give him a look before gently grabbing his arm, pulling up his jacket sleeve. Underneath he wore a long sleeve shirt which was soaked in a sticky red liquid.

“James,” You scold him, seeing that he is in fact not okay. He shrugs his coat off before pulling his sleeve up to reveal a heavy gash on his arm, blood still dripping out of it. Your eyes widen at the sight as you grab his shoulders, making him take a seat at the island in the kitchen.

“I panicked when the storm started to hit. Slipped and fell right against my knife,” James winces as he tries to laugh and lighten the situation. You were in no mood though as you tried to think about how to stop the bleeding.

“This is deep James…it's gonna need stitches,” you gently took his arm in your hands, inspecting the wound.

“We can't go out there in that storm…we'll get lost on our way back…there's a first aid kit in the bathroom, some fishing line and a sewing kit in my pack,” James tells you casually. Your eyes went wide as you realized what he's suggesting.

“No..there's no way in hell I'm doing that,” You panic, thinking about trying to stitch James up yourself. He takes a deep breath, trying to control the pain as he looks at you with desperation. You look back at him, thinking for a few moments before looking towards his bleeding arm and letting out a heavy sigh. You march towards the bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit that sat on the sink before coming back out and setting it down. You open it up, taking some gauze out and pressing it to his arm, applying a firm amount of pressure. He winces again, sucking in a breath, his hand flexing a bit as you did.

“The fishing line and sewing kit should be in the front pocket of the bag I left with,” James moves your hand, applying pressure himself as you get up to grab the other items. Your hands shake as you walk back towards him, sitting down in the other chair. You flinch as another loud gust of wind blows against the cabin.

“I trust you,” James says quietly, looking at your face. You look up at him with concern before you pull a needle out, bending it so that it's curved.

“This is gonna hurt like a bitch ya know,” You speak, trying to make yourself feel better about the situation. James removed the blood soaked gauze, grabbing some more to press against his arm. As he tries to get the bleeding to die down you prepare everything you think you'd need. You sterilize the needle over a candle flame before dipping it in rubbing alcohol. You cut a section of fishing line off, letting it soak in the rubbing alcohol for a few minutes with the needle. You gently remove James' hand from his arm, taking a small rag and cleaning the wound the best you could. James sucks in another harsh breath, a strand of curses coming out of his mouth as the alcohol burns the open flesh.

“Sorry,” you say quietly, continuing to clean the wound. The bleeding has almost stopped which means you can attempt to sew him up. You grab the needle, threading the alcohol soaked fishing line through it before grabbing James arm. You hesitate, looking towards him, he gives you a nod and clenches his eyes shut. Slowly, you bring the needle to his skin, hands shaking as you piece the flesh. He flinches, swallowing thickly as he tries to hold back a scream. You stand up from the chair to try and get a better angle as you focus all of your attention on his arm, trying your hardest to stitch him up. With each agonizing minute, James continues to let out curses and the storm rages on outside. His other arm comes up to your waist, gripping it as he drops his head against your side.

“I'm almost done,” You try to reassure him, finishing the last stitch. You set the needle down, wiping the small drops of blood that escaped away. You grab some more of the gauze, securing it tightly around his forearm as you finish up. You run your hand through his hair, causing him to look up at you and towards his arm.

“I don't think I would have been able to do that myself, it's good you were here,” He says quietly, his voice tired and strained.

“Please don't ever make me do that again,” You try to smile, scolding him. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for James to injure himself in one way or another and for you to have to care for his minor injuries. This however was the worst thing he's made you do. He laughs slightly at your words, flexing his hand again as he stares at his covered arm. He keeps his other hand firmly on your waist, his thumb subconsciously rubbing your skin through your sweatshirt.

“My left arm has been through some shit,” James jokes, thinking about the few times he's broken it, the countless stitches he's gotten, and the pyro accident from ‘92. You take his hand in yours, playing with his fingers lightly, the scars from the burn still visible.

“I had to baby you for months after your burn,” You giggle, remembering all the times James was whining about his arm. You were in charge of applying the burn cream and helping him change his clothes for a while. James laughs as he remembers the memories, knowing he was probably over dramatic about it at times, especially if it meant he got attention from you.

He squeezes your side, bringing your attention from his arm back to his face. He had a soft smile, looking over you before bringing his hand up and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Thank you,” He speaks quietly, his hand lingers near your face for a second before he pulls it away, setting it in his lap.

“Of course, I wasn't gonna let you bleed out on the floor,” You smile, taking a seat next to him. The blood that had dripped from his arm onto the table and floor had now soaked into the wood, the vibrant red darkening as it dried. You turn your attention to the window above the sink, seeing that the storm was still raging on. You had almost forgotten about it, too focused on trying to help James.

“I wasn't talking about my arm...just…thank you, for everything you've done for me…being by my side all these years,” He spoke softly, his gaze still lingering on you, watching as you looked out the window. He takes his good hand and grabs one of yours you had resting in your lap, giving it a squeeze. You loop your fingers with his, returning the motion.

“You don't have to thank me for that James, I'll always be here for you.” A silence falls over the cabin as James continues to look at you. You could have sworn you felt your cheeks heat up as he smiled softly at you, his warm hand still looped in yours. You look away, shyly, trying to find something you can turn your attention towards.

“Are you hungry,” You ask him, standing up from your spot and taking your hand away from him. You heard him let out a small sigh, a frown covering his face for a second before he answers and stands up.

“Yeah, I probably need to eat something,” James stumbles slightly as he stands, grabbing the counter for support before he regains his balance. You wondered for a second just how much blood he lost, concern filling you again. You walk over to him, helping him over to the sleeping bags. He slides down against the wall, closing his eyes as he leans his head back against it.

“Are you sure you won't throw up if you eat?” You question, knowing he's probably dizzy and not wanting to make him sick. He doesn't open his eyes but he nods his head.

“I won't throw up,” he gives you a reassuring smile. You turn back towards the kitchen, rummaging through the coolers and bags as you look for something to fix. You pull out a few things, deciding on steak knowing it's his favorite. You wash the cast iron skillet yet again before setting the steaks in the pan with some butter. You took out a knife, being careful as you pry open a can of corn and green beans to pour into a pot to go along with the steak. You set everything on the stove top, throwing another log in, the steak sizzling immediately. James opens his eyes as the smell of it quickly fills the cabin. You had your back turned to him as you stood at the stove, watching the food cook. He watched you as you cooked, loving the way you are always so focused on whatever task you're doing. You occasionally stir the pot with the corn and green beans in it and flip the steak when needed. It only took a few minutes to cook, the high heat from the stove cooking it quickly. Plus James liked his steaks bloody anyway. You plate dinner, and turn around to see him watching you. You step towards him, handing him his plate before sitting down next to him.

James mumbles a small thank you as he takes the plate from your hand and sets it on his lap. James grabs his knife with his left hand, attempting to grasp it so he could cut his steak, but the pain from his arm was still too strong for him to fully grip the knife. You notice his struggles, setting your own plate on your lap before reaching over and taking the knife from him, cutting his steak up into bites for him.

“You're gonna have to be careful to not break any of those stitches until we can leave. I don't want you to start bleeding again,” You tell him as you finish cutting his steak. You turn your attention to your own, cutting it into bite sized bits as well.

“I'll try not to but you know me, I'll end up breaking one by tonight,” He jokes, letting out a small snort as he stabs a piece of steak with his fork and pops it in his mouth.

“You aren't planning on still hunting are you? I'm not letting you go back out there with your arm like that. We'll have to leave in the morning if the storm passes,” James nods his head as he listens to your words but you could tell his mind was in a different place. You assumed he was trying to think of something different to take his mind off of the pain.

“We might get snowed in. I left the snowmobile out in the open so it'll probably get buried tonight,” You think about the snowmobile that sat just outside the cabin. There was a small lean-to over to the side that held chopped wood and had just enough space to park something underneath it. But with the wind blowing so wildly, even if he had parked it under there it would have still been covered. Your heart speeds up as you think about potentially being trapped out here, especially with James’ arm. It was at high risk of infection even if you cleaned everything as thoroughly as you could.

You don't respond to his words, deciding to just quietly eat your food as you think about how you're supposed to get back to where James had parked his truck hundreds of miles away. But the sound of forks scraping against the metal camp plates and James’ somewhat annoying open mouth chewing was enough to keep you from fully focusing on your thoughts.

“Hey, I'll be okay,” James spoke as he sensed your fears. He swallowed another bite, his face already less pale than it was just an hour before. You gave him a weak smile, setting down your fork and grabbing his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze so as to not hurt him further.

“You better be,” You say quietly, you couldn't help the voice crack that came when you spoke, a small tear rolling down your face. You go to quickly wipe it away, looking away from James but he gets to it before you. His trembling hand wipes the tear before he rests his palm fully against your cheek. You couldn't lie to yourself that you were incredibly scared of the situation the two of you were in. James, like always though, was handling it well, being a support for you although it should have been the other way around.

James' thumb strokes your cheek, wiping away another tear as it falls. He removes his hand for a second, grabbing the empty plate from your lap, setting it on top of his and then placing them on the floor, sliding them away.

“Come here,” The words ring familiar to your ears as he had spoken them the night before. He lays down on top of the sleeping bags, opening his arms up for you to lay against him. You don't hesitate to crawl against him, making sure you're on his right side before you lean your head on his chest. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, his hand rubbing up and down them slightly. You reach over to his left hand, grazing your fingers over his bandage before you tangle your fingers with his.

The world seems quiet as you lay in his arms, his breathing and heartbeat the only thing you hear. You glance up at him, he had his eyes closed as he relaxed. The warm glow from the fire cast a shadow over his face making his features seem younger, reminding you of when you were kids. He opens his eyes, and they meet yours, the blue from them piercing through you like ice. Without thinking you lean forward and place a kiss against his lips. They were warmer and softer than you had imagined, the taste of him something you'd never want to forget. You pull away, looking at him. Both of you seemed surprised at what just happened but that doesn't stop him from pulling you back into another one. His hand reaches over and grabs your thigh, trying to pull you on top of him. You don't hesitate to swing your leg over his, your body pressed fully against him as you deepen the kiss.

James wraps both of his arms tightly around you, his hand fully splayed against your back as he tries to pull you impossibly close. The thick layers of fabric covering both of you does nothing to hide his growing boner that is pressed between your legs. You move your hips slightly, grinding down against his causing him to let out a groan against your lips. He forces his tongue into your mouth, fighting for some kind of dominance. James holds you close as he changes positions, flipping you onto your back instead. His hands push under your shirt, causing you to jerk slightly as his cold skin touches yours. You both get lost in the kisses, slowly growing desperate as each second passes. James pulls away just long enough to pull your shirt over your head. He pulls his own off, tossing it to the side before leaning back down to connect your lips again. Your pleasure drunk brain seems to snap out of it as you push his shoulder back.

“James we shouldn't,” You mumble against his lips before pushing him away. His face drops, disappointment covering his features as he sits up. You sit up with him, grabbing his injured arm.

“I want to, but I don't want to hurt you,” You tell him quietly, your own disappointment visible. He watches intently as you run your finger over the gauze again, bringing it up his arm as you trace his tattoos.

“You won't hurt me, you can't hurt me,” he says quietly, goosebumps rising over his skin from your touch and the cold air of the cabin that nips at him. Despite that, he felt hot, his eyes trailing over your exposed torso, your hard nipples poking through the thin bra you wore. You look at him, before looking back at his arm, the gears turning in your head. You push him back so that he's leaning against the wall. He lets you puppet him, watching as your fingers make their way to his belt. His heart rate picks up as you unbuckle it, pulling it out of the loops and tossing it to the side. His boner pressed prominently against the fabric of his jeans, desperate to escape. You graze your hand over it through the fabric, causing his hips to raise. You unbuttoned his pants, slowly dragging them down his legs to expose him fully. You swallow thickly at the sight of him, anxiety and excitement pooling in your stomach as you had never been with someone as large as him. James sticks his fingers through the loops on your jeans pulling you into his lap, desperate to taste you again. You smile at the action, feeling his fingers trail up your back and unclip your bra. You slide it off and before you've even had time to drop it to the floor, James’ mouth is on your breasts. His tongue swipes over your nipples causing you to let out a soft moan. You dig your fingers into his hair, cradling his head as he gives your breast attention. You grind your hips down onto his again making him groan against your chest. He leaves small love bites before looking back at you.

“Take these off,” He says, his eyes never leaving yours as he unbuttons your jeans. You get off of his lap for a second, sliding them off before he immediately pulls you close again. You let out a surprised gasp when you feel his erection rub against your swollen lips. You grip his shoulders, hovering over him slightly before slowly pushing yourself down onto him. He throws his head back against the wall, his eyes squeezing shut from the pleasure. You bite your lip, the stretch was painful but you don't stop.

“Fuck you feel good,” He strains, opening his eyes to look down and watch himself disappear as you sit fully on top of him. You rest your forehead against his, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. One hand plays with the small gray curls that rest at the nape of his neck. His hands grip your hips as he holds himself back from pounding into you. Slowly, you start to rock your hips back and forth, letting yourself get used to his size. James continues to groan with each motion, being more vocal than you imagined.

Admittedly, you were being louder than normal yourself. His cock was thick and long, filling you up more than you had ever been before. The veins from it dragging against your walls, pulsing with each moan he let out. The pressure from the angle was more than you could bear as you cried out, bouncing on his lap. James still had a firm grasp on your hips, helping lift you up before roughly pushing you back down. The smell of sex and the squelching between your legs filled the cabin, making you forget everything else. It hasn't even registered in your brain yet that you were desperately riding your best friend. Years of both of you denying rumors that you were dating being thrown down the drain this very second.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum, Birdie,” James groans, the nickname he gave you years ago rolled out of his mouth with ease but the sound of it on his tongue caused you to clench around him. He quickly wrapped his arms around you, trapping you on top of him as he let out another loud moan, burying his face into your chest. You felt him fill you up, his dick twitching eagerly inside. You brought your hand between your bodies, desperately chasing your own release as your fingers quickly worked themselves against your clit. The feeling of his seed overflowing from your filled walls quickly brought you to your release. You clenched desperately around him again, making him groan from the sensitivity. You drop your head to his shoulder, moaning in his ear as you cum on top of him. You both stay unmoving, gripping each other tightly as you try to catch your breath.

James leans his head back against the wall, causing you to look at him. He gives you a fucked out smile, laughing softly at what just happened. You return the smile, leaning forward to place a kiss on his lips.

“Is this a bad time to tell you I'm bleeding again,” He jokes, looking down at his arm which was smearing blood onto your exposed side. You follow his gaze, watching as the white gauze slowly becomes a vibrant red. Panic sets through you like a deer in headlights, not knowing what to do. You still sat on top of him, his soft dick still being warmed inside your walls. You glance from his arm back to him, seeing the shit eating grin he had on his face.

“I told you I'd break one before the night was over,” He laughs, recalling his earlier words. You give him a stern look, hitting his chest slightly before finally peeling yourself away from him. You both let out one last sigh. You sit down next to him, leaning your side against his as you set his arm in your lap, peeling the bandage away. Only one stitch had broken but it was enough for the bleeding to start again. As you watched it drip down his arm, you felt his cum dripping out of you, causing your face to turn red as the reality of what just happened sets in.

“You're insane,” You tell him quietly, grabbing a blanket to cover your exposed body before you grab the first aid kit again. You didn't think you'd have to put another stitch in since only one had broken. James watched you closely, his eyes lingering over what skin was exposed under the blanket. You sit back down next to him, grabbing more gauze to clean the blood up with before taking a small tube of glue and rubbing it into the exposed part of the wound. You rewrap his arm, setting the first aid kit back by your side.

“I love you,” James speaks softly, his words causing your cheeks to flush. He rests his hand on your thigh, rubbing the skin gently. It wasn't the first time he had spoken those words, but this time they had a different meaning.

“I love you too,” Your voice was hush like his as you rested your head against his bare shoulder and grabbed his hand with yours. He gives your leg a squeeze, kissing your forehead.

“This is going to make Lars happy,” James snorts as he thinks about the situation. Lars had been trying to hook you two up, very unsuccessfully, for years. You laugh as you think about the look the small Danish man will have on his face when he hears about what happened.

You look up at James, a smile still plastered on your face as he meets your gaze, he leans down and connects his lips with yours yet again. The storm outside has died down by now but the wind still blows harshly. The group of wolves from the night before started their duets again, causing you to shiver, but the warmth of James' skin against yours was all you needed to forget your worries.

✭-----------------------------✭

whewh...that was...a lot. I didn't double check spelling or grammar so sorry for any mistakes

[whereforarthur]

Wedding Day Bliss~

Request: I had this idea if a wedding day. Like the whole wedding day leading up to the end of the night. Like the saying their vows and it being really emotional and George tearing up when she is walking down the aisle and the reception and all their friends and family watching them be so in love. Also their first dance as husband and wife I think would be so cute then sharing kisses and just being in their own bubble with George’s friends making speeches.

Pairing: George Clarkey x reader

Rating: PG-13

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 3.3k

*****

"The best thing you can do is find a person who loves you for exactly who you are: good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you. The right person is still going to think the sun shines out of your ass. That's the kind of person that's worth sticking with." —Juno

"You okay, mate?" Arthur's voice cut through the early morning chill as George stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His hand hovered over the shaving cream, his eyes bloodshot from last night's festivities.

"Yeah, just trying to remember what year it is," George joked, rubbing his hand over his unshaven face. The wedding was in a few hours, and the nerves were starting to set in. He had never felt so alive, so ready to embark on a new chapter with the love of his life. Yet, the gravity of the promise he was about to make weighed on him like the hangover he was pretending not to have.

The house was buzzing with activity, the air thick with excitement and anticipation. The smell of fresh flowers wafted in from the open windows, mingling with the faint scent of his mother's famous breakfast spread. He could hear the distant chatter of the bridesmaids, the occasional burst of laughter, and the clinking of champagne flutes as they toasted to the soon-to-be newlyweds. George took a deep breath and turned to face the day ahead.

When she reached him, George's hand trembled slightly as he took hers. The priest's words were a gentle hum in the background as they exchanged vows, their eyes never leaving each other's.

"Y/N," George began, his voice clear and steady despite the tumult of emotions churning within him. "Thank you for loving me, for understanding me, and for putting up with my friends. They're a wild bunch, but they're mine, and you've welcomed them into your heart without question." He paused, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he thought of the countless nights spent cleaning up after their drunken escapades. "I promise to stand by you, to cherish you, and to laugh with you, even when they're singing off-key karaoke at three in the morning."

Each word felt like a promise etched into their very souls, a declaration that no matter what life threw at them, they would face it together. And as he slipped the ring onto her finger, he knew that he had made the right choice.

The congregation chuckled softly, and George felt a warmth spread through him. He took a deep breath and continued, "I vow to support you in your dreams, even if it means watching every cooking show on Netflix with you." He winked, remembering her passion for culinary mastery, which often resulted in kitchen disasters that only she found amusing. "To be your partner, your confidant, and your rock, as you are mine."

"And now," the priest announced, turning to Y/N, "it is your turn to speak your vows." She took a deep breath, her hand tightening around George's. Her voice was steady and sure as she began, "George, my love, from the moment I met you, I knew you were different. Your kindness, your humor, your unwavering loyalty—these are the traits that have made me fall in love with you over and over again."

The room grew still, captivated by her every word. "I promise to be your home, a place where you can always find comfort and peace. I vow to stand by your side, through every challenge and every victory, holding your hand through it all. I will laugh with you, cry with you, and maybe even dance with you when you're feeling particularly courageous."

Her eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief, and George felt his cheeks warm at the thought of their many dance floor disasters. She went on, "I will cherish every moment we share, from the mundane to the magnificent, because each one is a gift that I never knew I needed until you gave it to me. I will love you fiercely, George, because you have shown me what it means to truly be loved."

The room was silent as the gravity of her words settled over the guests. The emotion in her voice was palpable, and George felt his heart swell with love for this incredible woman. He couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life making her as happy as she made him.

"You may now kiss the bride," the priest announced, breaking the spell. George leaned in, his heart racing, and kissed her softly. It was a kiss that spoke of their future together, a gentle promise of love and protection. The congregation erupted in applause and cheers, and the organist began to play the wedding march.

They walked back down the aisle, hand in hand, smiling at their friends and family. The warmth of their union seemed to radiate outwards, wrapping everyone in a blanket of joy. The light from the stained glass windows painted them in a rainbow of colors, as if the very walls of the church were celebrating with them.

*****

The reception was held in the manor's lush gardens, under a grand marquee that had been set up especially for the occasion. The air was filled with the sweet scent of roses and the sound of laughter. The guests were already mingling, eager to congratulate the newlyweds. As they stepped outside, George and Y/N were greeted by a shower of confetti, thrown by their exuberant friends and relatives. It was like stepping into a whirlwind of love and good wishes.

Throughout the evening, George couldn't help but steal glances at his bride, her smile never fading, her eyes always sparkling. They danced, they talked, they laughed, and with every shared moment, he felt his heart swell with love. The speeches from his friends were equal parts embarrassing and endearing, each one reminding him of the incredible journey that had led them here.

But it was Arthur's speech that truly stole the show. He took the microphone with a grin that was a mix of mischief and affection, his eyes twinkling as he began to recount their escapades from over the years. The room grew quieter, anticipating the tales that were about to unfold.

"Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends," Arthur started, his voice carrying over the clinking of silverware and the gentle hum of conversation. "I stand before you today, not just as George's best man, but as his confidant, his wingman, and occasionally his designated driver." The crowd chuckled, setting the tone for the heartfelt roast that was to come.

"Now, I've known George for what feels like an eternity," Arthur continued, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "We've been through it all—the good, the bad, and the questionably legal. And through it all, he's remained the same lovable, slightly disaster-prone man we all know and love."

The crowd chuckled, and George felt a warmth spread through him as Arthur winked at him. "But today, we're not just celebrating George and Y/N's love story," he said, his tone growing serious. "We're also saying goodbye to the bachelor days, the nights out that ended with pizza on the floor and George's head in the toilet." A collective groan echoed through the room, followed by laughter. "And Y/N, let me just say, you're a brave soul for taking him on. You're not just gaining a husband; you're inheriting a lifetime subscription to 'What the hell was I thinking?' magazine."

Arthur raised his glass, and the room fell silent. "But in all seriousness, George, I couldn't be happier for you. You've found someone who not only puts up with your terrible taste in music and your obsession with superheroes but also makes you a better man. And Y/N, you're not just stealing him from us; you're giving us back a George we haven't seen in a long time—one who's more at peace, more content, and dare I say it, more responsible."

The room erupted in laughter, and George couldn't help but feel a twinge of truth in Arthur's words. Y/N had indeed changed him for the better, bringing order to the chaos that was his life and filling his days with a warmth he hadn't realized he was missing. He looked over at her, her cheeks flushed with a blush that made her look even more radiant, and knew that every second of this new journey with her would be worth it.

As Arthur wrapped up his speech, the DJ took over. The air was electric with joy, and George found himself drawn to Y/N, ready for their first dance as husband and wife. The first dance was a slow, sweet melody that had been playing on the radio the first time they had kissed. As George held her in his arms, their bodies moving in perfect sync, he whispered into her ear, "Thank you for choosing me." Her eyes searched his, filled with a love so deep it seemed to hold the secrets of the universe. "I've always chosen you," she murmured back, her voice filled with a gentle certainty that washed over him like a warm summer rain.

*****

The evening passed in a blur of shared glances, whispered promises, and stolen kisses. The air was electric with love and happiness, and every moment felt like a precious memory in the making. As the night grew darker, the stars began to twinkle outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, echoing the sparkle in their eyes.

Their friends and family watched with smiles, some with misty eyes, as the couple moved in perfect harmony. The lyrics of the song spoke of a love that had withstood the test of time, a promise of forever, and George felt it resonate deep within him. He whispered sweet nothings into Y/N's ear, her cheek pressed against his chest, and she giggled, her happiness infectious.

He couldn't stop thinking about how lucky he was to have her, to call her his wife. Every few seconds, he'd lean down and press a gentle kiss to her forehead, her cheek, her lips—any part of her he could reach without breaking the rhythm of their dance. Her eyes would flutter closed with each touch, a soft sigh escaping her lips, and he knew she felt the same overwhelming love that he did.

A silent conversation of love and adoration that didn't need words to convey the depth of their feelings. The music swelled around them, a cocoon of sound that blocked out the world and left only the two of them, spinning and swaying to the beat of their hearts. The warmth of her body against his was a reassurance that she was real, that this wasn't just some beautiful dream he would wake up from.

From the sidelines, George's friends couldn't help but tease him. They had never seen him so lost in a moment, so utterly consumed by happiness. "Look at him," Chris murmured to Arthur Hill, his own partner in crime at past escapades. "He's gone soft."

Arthur Hill chuckled, raising his glass. "It's about time," he said, a hint of sentimentality in his voice. "He's been chasing that love bug for years. It's good to see him finally catch it."

Their banter grew louder, a playful jab here and there, but the affection behind their words was unmistakable. "You know, I never thought I'd see the day when George Clarkey would be this whipped," Arthur quipped, earning a playful glare from George.

Chris, Max, Arthur, and Arthur Hill had been the life of the party, charming the guests with their wit and camaraderie. They had been an integral part of George's life for years, and seeing them interact with Y/N and her friends was a delightful reminder of how intertwined their worlds had become. Their banter was light-hearted, their laughter infectious, and their love for the couple palpable.

As the night grew later and the music grew softer, the four friends—now bonded by more than just friendship—gathered around George and Y/N, raising their glasses in a toast. "To new beginnings," Arthur said, his voice a blend of joviality and sincerity. "May your love be as wild and unpredictable as our adventures, yet as steadfast as the foundation of this ancient city we call home."

Chris leaned in, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "And may you never run out of patience for each other," he added with a knowing smile, "because with us around, you're going to need it." The group erupted in laughter, the tension of the day giving way to the easy camaraderie that had carried them through so much.

"To Y/N," Max said, raising his glass higher, "for saving us from ever having to listen to George's dreadful dating stories again." The room buzzed with knowing chuckles, and George couldn't help but laugh along. The group's laughter grew as they reminisced about his infamous Hinge dates—stories of catfishing, awkward silences, and that one girl who had stood him up a record eight times.

Y/N leaned into George, her eyes shining with mirth. "But I'm the one who finally caught you," she whispered, her voice a gentle caress against his ear. "And I'm so happy I could be the one to save you from a life of swiping and ghosting."

Their friends' laughter grew, but George's gaze never left hers. "You didn't just save me," he murmured, his voice low enough that only she could hear. "You gave me a reason to stop looking." He placed a tender kiss on her cheek, the warmth of his lips leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

As the music played on, George watched his wife dance with her father, her smile never fading, her eyes shimmering with happiness. The moment was so perfect it hurt. He felt a gentle pat on his shoulder and turned to see Arthur, a solemn look on his face. "You know, George," Arthur said, his voice barely above a whisper, "you're the luckiest man here."

George nodded, the weight of Arthur's words sinking in. "I know," he replied, his voice thick with emotion. "I never thought I'd find someone who could handle all of this—me, us, the fans, the chaos. But she does. She's my sanity in a world gone mad."

*****

The night grew later, the music slower, and the room more intimate. The air was thick with the scent of happiness and the warmth of a love that had conquered all. As the final notes of their first dance played out, George leaned in to kiss his wife, the sweetness of their union echoing in the silence that followed. Their friends and family cheered, but the couple remained lost in their own little world, oblivious to the applause.

The reception wound down, and the photographer captured their love in a series of candid shots, the flashes of the camera a stark contrast to the soft glow of the candlelit room. They mingled with their guests, thanking them for their presence, sharing laughs, and receiving well-wishes that felt like warm embraces. Each moment was a treasure, a memory to hold onto forever.

The rest of the night passed in a whirlwind of dance, laughter, and love. Each moment with Y/N felt like a gift, a precious memory to be stored away and cherished for the rest of their lives. They shared dances with their parents, the joy in their faces reflecting the happiness of their children. They watched as their friends paired off, spinning and laughing, the music weaving a tapestry of memories that would bind them all together for years to come.

Y/N leaned into George, her arms wrapped around his neck. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for choosing me, for loving me, for saving me too."

George pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers. "Saving you?" He cocked his head, a question in his eyes.

Y/N nodded, her smile softening. "From a life of questionable life choices and questionable haircuts," she teased, her thumb gently tracing the line of his freshly trimmed hair. "But mostly, from the loneliness that comes from not knowing your soulmate is out there waiting for you."

George's heart swelled with gratitude, his eyes never leaving hers. "You've done more than that," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "You've made me whole, Y/N. You've given me a purpose, a reason to wake up every morning with a smile."

Their friends had cleared the dance floor, giving them space to continue their intimate moment. The soft glow of the fairy lights above them cast a warm, romantic hue over the two of them, as if the universe itself was bending to highlight their love. Y/N's hand found its way to his cheek, her thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped his eye. "And you've done the same for me," she murmured. "You've shown me that love isn't just a word in a book or a scene in a movie. It's real, it's messy, and it's beautiful."

Her words hit him like a tidal wave, the depth of her feelings resonating through his very being. He leaned into her touch, feeling the warmth of her skin, the gentle beat of her heart. "I never knew I could love someone like this," he confessed, his voice a whisper in the stillness of the night. "But here we are, and I can't imagine a single day without you by my side."

*****

The moon had risen high in the sky by the time the party began to wind down. The guests slowly started to say their goodbyes, each one offering congratulations and well wishes for a long and happy life together. As the last of the cars pulled away, George and Y/N stood on the porch, hand in hand, watching the taillights fade into the distance. The cool evening breeze danced around them, carrying with it the promise of a future filled with love and adventure.

Turning to face him, Y/N looked up into George's eyes, her own sparkling with a hint of mischief. "Ready for our grand finale?" she asked, a playful smile playing on her lips.

George raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Grand finale?"

"Mm-hmm," she nodded, her smile growing wider. "The part where we finally get to be alone."

"Alone?" George echoed, feigning innocence. "What could possibly happen when we're alone?"

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh, I'm sure we can think of something," she teased, her voice dropping to a seductive whisper.

The banter between them was light, a playful dance of words that had become a hallmark of their relationship. George's cheeks flushed slightly, the humor in his eyes betraying his excitement. "First time as husband and wife, you mean," he clarified with a grin, squeezing her hand.

"Ah, yes," Y/N giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "But you know what they say, practice makes perfect."

Without a moment's hesitation, George bent down, wrapping one arm under her knees and the other around her waist, and scooped her up into his arms. She squealed with delight, her gown fluttering around them as he spun her in a circle. "Let's get to it then, Mrs. Clarkey," he said, his grin growing wider with each passing second.

Her laughter was like music to his ears, a sweet symphony that had played on repeat in his mind since the moment they first met. "I can't wait," she exclaimed, her cheeks flushed with excitement. The night was still young, and the possibilities stretched out before them like a never-ending horizon.

Carrying her over the threshold, George felt his heart swell with a love so profound, it was almost painful. This was it—the start of their forever, a journey they would navigate together, hand in hand.

He kicked the door shut with his foot, the sound echoing through the now empty house. The quiet was a stark contrast to the buzz of the wedding, but it was a welcome one. The world outside could wait—this moment was theirs, and theirs alone.

[killuasghost]

SLICES OF LIFE # ！︎

↠︎ plot + warnings: hcs on college!jjk men with f!reader roommate and their many adventures with one another!

↠︎ featuring: nanami, toji, choso, gojo, and geto

↠︎ continuing my college!jjk series and we're starting with this! i love the idea of reader having her own relationship with the boys and vice versa!

➞︎ it isn't often that you guys get to go on adventures together.

➞︎ most of the time its a bunch of mini side quests with one another at different times.

➞︎ when you have afternoon classes, gojo and geto are usually finishing up their day as well.

➞︎ which turns into the three of you taking the train into tokyo, blowing gojo's money on sweets and food.

➞︎ sometimes you guys catch a car meet on the off chance y'all end up on that side of town when its happening (a/n: i hc the group to be into cars but geto, toji, and choso are the biggest gear heads)

➞︎ some days, you and nanami spend mornings together.

➞︎ mostly spent in the nooks and crannies of libraries or by the window in a bakery/cafe.

➞︎ sometimes, when you guys have book club, he'll put together a picnic for the two of you.

➞︎ there's a garden with a bunch of Japanese maple trees that the two of you found once.

➞︎ it's y'all's secret third spot. 🤫

➞︎ surprisingly, choso started tagging along with you to toji's practices/matches after a couple months of you doing it.

➞︎ while you were focused on the 'pr' side of things for the boxer, choso took on the role of sparring partner.

➞︎ so now, you had not one, but two gym bros on your hands as choso started hitting the gym srsly.

➞︎ don't worry, it's not always a fist fight with those guys.

➞︎ choso is always finding some new spot to try, mostly art or herbal shops, and toji drives while you tag along for the ride.

➞︎ meanwhile, toji's always finding some mountain to hike! gd its exhausting keeping up with him sometimes!

➞︎ but they're the only two to stick around for when you have your 'bring it on' marathon, so you endure :)

➞︎ geto is in the tattoo shop late at night some weekends and whenever you're available, you pop a squat on the comfy futon he has in his space and chill.

➞︎ he appreciates the company whenever he's working on a client after hours or working hard on designing a new piece.

➞︎ he uses you as a gauge for when he's been working too long. if you've been silent for more than an hour, he knows it's time to wrap it up.

➞︎ gojo is a slut for his monthly massages. he got you one as a birthday gift one year and y'all have been going together ever since.

➞︎ he's always the one you're trying bazaar shit with. cos why tf did he fire up the private jet just so the two of you could visit the blue lagoon.

➞︎ in ICELAND btw

➞︎ toji secretly likes to cook.

➞︎ like loves to cook actually.

➞︎ you only found out when it was just the two of you at home one weekend (nanami on a business retreat with geto, gojo visiting his family (begrudgingly he says), and choso went camping with his brother's) and toji threw down after the joint sesh y'all had.

➞︎ i mean the spread was spreadin'

➞︎ he swore you to secrecy, cooking was smth he didn't want the other's taking advantage of (he's just scared of rejection ((that wouldn't happen)) 🙄).

➞︎ one time y'all took a dessert class and learned to make matcha swiss rolls 🤤

➞︎ toji looked cute in his lil apron and hat ;)

➞︎ choso invites you to art exhibits with him and drags you along to the newest infrastructure being built in the city

➞︎ there's a local pottery/glass blowing shop in downtown Sendai, that the two of you frequent to make clay pottery.

➞︎ at some point, choso designs the most beautiful sculpture out of clay and all of you show up for he showcases it at his first art show!

➞︎ you were the sculpture

➞︎ every once in awhile you guys link up for a group activity.

➞︎ its usually toji's fights but most recently you guys went to the opera!!!

➞︎ geto somehow ended up on stage for a brief moment but that's a story for another time cause 😅

FREE PALESTINE, CONGO, SUDAN, EVERYWHERE !!!!

[its-autumn]

i really need to get this short idea out of my head 😭

call my name, and i'll find you

The hospital rung. Leo had woken up and they weren't fucking there.

It was a mad dash. The doctors had said that he wouldn't wake up for another two weeks, so they had all gone out on a mission because the amount of zombie-krang people still roaming around in NYC was kind of terrifying. Mikey was on one shoulder, Donnie perched on the other, and Raph running faster than he had since the whole ordeal happened.

The doctors said that he wasn't moving or talking, or doing anything, really. Raph knew why. Leo hated being forgotten and left out, and what else is a scared, hurt kid supposed to believe when his family aren't there to welcome him back to the land of the living?

Raph also had no clue why they'd call after visiting hours were done. Yokai hospitals were weird and different to the ones in New York. Poor Leo probably had no clue where he was or who the people around him were. The snapping turtle could feel Donnie drumming his fingers impatiently and the way that Mikey was gripping one of his spikes like a lifeline. It hurt.

Not even four steps though the doors and "Sorry, guys, visiting time is over". As fucking if. What did they expect? An 'oh, okay, we'll come see our brother who has been asleep for nearly a month and now that he's awake is refusing food tomorrow'? All three of them ignored it. Mikey jumped off of his shoulder and jogged alongside the speed walking. Little legs, after all.

There were nurses trying to stop them and Raph felt Donnie starting to tense up, he knew he must've been pissed off too. And then they started nearing where Leo's room was.

The oldest could already see him through the window. Dully staring at his feet, pale and barely even breathing. He still looked dead even though he was actually awake this time. The nurses were getting closer. Raph almost threw open the door, all of them entering and stopping.

"Hey, Lee-Lee!!" Mikey beamed. And Leo's face lit up.

[just-jordie-things]

something missing - okkotsu yuuta

word count: 2.4k warnings: swearing summary: just two lovers missing one another more info: aged up characters! established relationship!

Trips were fun, seeing new places, trying new foods, meeting new people, there was always fun to be had going somewhere new.

Yuuta learned quickly that field missions were nothing like a vacation.  Besides the fact that there was barely any extra time to explore new cities, with any downtime he had, he spent resting.

New York City was no different.  It had been a few weeks, almost a full month.  The sights from his hotel window were all the more exploring he got to enjoy.  Tonight was the same old thing.

His toothbrush hung lazily between Yuuta’s teeth as he stood before the window.  The whole city was lit up, and it was a beautiful sight, but tonight it just wasn’t doing it for him.

His phone beeped in his pocket, and it was in his hand in a second.

[(y/n)]: goodnight love. i’m off to training w Toge.

Not a second later a photo came through, a selfie of his two favorite people in the world, his girlfriend and his best friend, both with their tongues out and wide smiles.

Despite the overload of cuteness, he found himself frowning, his stomach tied up in knots.

He’d been gone for too long.  He missed everyone, he missed his routines.  He missed being in the same time zone.  

[yuuta]: have a great day :) can’t wait till i’m home with you

With that he tossed his phone onto the bed- which was still covered in the mess from his open suitcase- and sighed into the empty room.

Three weeks of being alone in these four walls and trying to track down a curse that he was convinced was just some crazed New Yorker was starting to drain him of all energy.  He hadn’t even felt bothered to organize his clothes.

If (y/n) were here, she would have established a whole system for unpacking and organizing everything in the hotel dresser.  She’d scold him had she known he was living out of his suitcase and couldn’t even kick it off the bed at night.

As he wandered back over to the bathroom sink, spitting out his toothpaste and turning on the faucet so it’d wash down the drain, his mind ran wild with thoughts of another life.  A normal life.  As important as his work was…

“You’re a hero Yuu,” (y/n’s) words rang in his ear as if she’d been standing right beside him.  “And people need you”

More than I need you? He’d never told her, but that thought had been on his mind ever since.

All he wanted was her.  She had his heart, body, mind, soul- he was completely hers and she knew it too.  She wasn’t the only one who knew it, anyone with eyes could see the pair’s infatuation with one another.  And if they had been born non-curse users, he thinks he would have put a ring on her finger by now.  

A smile graces his lips at the thought, his first smile all day.

The idea of settling down, moving their things into an apartment together, doing chores together, laughing over a juice stain on his shirt and not his own blood.  Images of spending every free moment together, whether it be eating meals, watching tv, reading together in silence… every sweet thought that passed his mind made him wonder if all of this trouble was worth it.

There wasn’t time tonight to measure the weight of his work, but he would make time to re-evaluate this mission in particular. ___

(y/n) tossed and turned in bed, and then tossed some more.

To say she wasn’t tired enough to go to sleep was an understatement.  She’d been awake for hours now, waiting for her phone to ring, or beep with a new text, but it remained blank.

She checked once more just to be sure, but just like the minute before, her lockscreen was clear.  Leaving only a photo of Yuuta with a wide grin on his face and a messy, small bun on the top of his head.  Usually this photo brought a smile to (y/n’s) face, hence why she chose it for her lockscreen wallpaper, but tonight she frowned as she turned the screen off and threw her phone into her pillow.

It was half past three in the morning, which was usually the perfect time to call Yuuta, since it would be five in the evening New York time.  He usually tried to call a little earlier, but it was never this late.

(y/n) understood he was busy, and with important work, but she couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.  She had barely heard from him all day, and with him being gone weeks…

Was it so awful of her to miss her boyfriend?

She reached for her phone once more, seeing only a minute had passed, and she still hadn’t heard anything.

Reluctantly, she unlocked her screen and went into her chat with Yuta.  She’d already sent him a few messages, but she figured one more couldn’t hurt.

[(y/n)]: hey, we still talking tonight? [(y/n)]: it’s ok if it’s a little later, i’ll wait up for you :) [(y/n)]: i can hear panda’s snoring from down the hall, should i see if toge is up? maybe he’ll put me to sleep. [(y/n)]: hey.. it’s late but i’m wide awake if you still have time for a call. can’t sleep :/ i miss you.  

She left her phone on her chest as she stared up at the blank ceiling.  Panda’s snores from a few rooms down still faintly made it’s way to her ears, but as she zoned out it sounded more and more distant.

Sometimes, she curses Gojo for seeing the potential in Yuuta.  Sometimes, she wishes he were normal, they were both normal, and could do normal people things.

Sometimes she wonders if being a non-curse user is a better life, to be blinded by the evils in the world, to live freely day-to-day.  Sometimes she wonders if she had a chance at that life now, would she choose it?

She doesn’t necessarily like these thoughts, but every once in a while she’ll indulge in a little daydreaming.  Images of her and Yuuta spending each day without training or being scared for their lives flashing behind her eyes.  She has to admit, it would be nice if he didn’t have to go away for such long missions.

But as sweet as the idea, she knows their way of life is the right path for them.  She knows neither one of them would sleep at night knowing they could do something to help squash those evils.  Besides, most of the time, she enjoyed herself when she exorcized curses.

Squeezing her eyes shut tight to rid her gaze of the white ceiling for just a moment, she tried to manifest a message from Yuuta for the umpteenth time tonight.  But hell, at this point she’d try anything to hear from him.

Ding.

Holy shit, did that work?

With lightning speed she had her phone unlocked to read the text message she’d just received.

[yuuta] i’m sorry i haven’t been able to text you my love, been real busy.  Maybe a midnight snack would help you rest?

As happy as she was to hear from him, her heart sunk as he hadn’t mentioned anything about calling her tonight.

[(y/n)]: think you’ll have any time for a phone call tonight ?

Every second that passes with the three dots of his anticipated response made her heart pound a little harder.  Even if he could only talk for a minute, she’d be happy just to hear his voice, she’d take anything she could get, really.

Finally, his text was sent.

[yuuta]: i don’t think it’s going to happen tonight, my love, i’m so sorry.  but it’s late, you should really get some sleep.  perhaps tea?

(y/n) bites her lip, before sighing and admitting defeat.

[(y/n)] it’s okay, i know you’re overworked.  i’ll make some tea and try to sleep, but if you find any spare time, call me, ok? i don’t mind how late it is.  i miss you

When she turns her phone off and sits up in bed, she tries to ignore the familiar burn in her throat that means she’s going to cry soon.  They say distance means the heart grows fonder, but she never realized just how much heartache came along with it.

She rubs her eyes almost violently to make sure they don’t stay watery, and slides her feet into the slippers next to her bed.  Tea was probably the best idea at this point.  Hopefully it would help her sleep and bring some comfort to her lonely heart.

She dragged her feet every step to her door, wiping her eyes once more for good measure before swinging it open.

To her surprise, she wasn’t met with the dark empty hallway she was used to seeing at this time of night.

Instead, one Okkotsu Yuuta stood there, at her door, with his suitcase at his side and his katana slung over his back.

Her eyes blew wide and for a second no words even came out to voice her surprise, but he could see in her dropped jaw and frozen stature that he had shocked her to her core.

“Surprise,” He says softly, before grinning ear to ear.  “My trick to get you to the door worked, I see”

“You’re- you’re home?” She barely gets the words out before reality catches up with her and she’s throwing herself against him.

In one swift motion her arms around his neck and her lips are planted roughly against his, barely taking in a gasp of air before kissing him again.  For such a sudden kiss, Yuuta’s quick to embrace her and keep her body held against his as he returns her kiss with even more fervor.

When they finally break the kiss, he doesn’t let her take a single step away as he speaks, keeping her in place right against him, right where he liked her to be.

“I told Gojo that I was getting nowhere, and I’m pretty sure the killings weren’t curse related.  There weren’t any supernatural leads,”

His words were rushed, like he was dying to get through them so he could move on and spend every second focused on her and only her.  She let out a small, breathless laugh, before shaking her head.

“He said I could come back and the elders would send some more people out to recon just to be sure, but I’m here, and I’m staying,” Yuuta brings a hand to her cheek, his thumb brushing over her soft skin as he gets lost in her (y/e/c) eyes for a moment too long.  “And I’m staying for a while.  No overseas missions for a long time for me”

“Really?” She whispers, her heart filling with hope and joy and all things good at the idea of having him to herself for a while.

“Really,” He confirms, and seals it with a quick kiss.  “I just want to be here with you.  I missed you so much, my love”

“I missed you too,” (y/n) sighs, resting her forehead against his and letting her eyes fall shut as a comforting feeling washes over her.  The relief of having him home was just what she needed to feel whole again.  “I’m so happy you’re home, Yuuta”

He squeezes her shoulders playfully, and gives her a smile that she knows means he’s up to something mischievous.

And before she can question what he’s thinking, his arms are wound around her middle, and she’s being hoisted into the air.

“Yuu-!” She squeals before slapping her hand over her own mouth, forgetting the time of night.

He’s laughing as he folds her over his shoulder and lets himself and his luggage into her room.  He kicks the door shut behind him without a care for how loud it might be and who might be disturbed from their sleep.  He couldn’t possibly care about anything other than having (y/n) all to himself, even just for tonight.

(y/n’s) giggling too, despite her protests for him to put her down and what the hell are you thinking? She can’t keep herself from giggling uncontrollably at the whole thing.  Maybe his laughter was contagious, but maybe she was just in love with him and everything he does to make her feel loved too.

He finally lifts her off of him, and she has to set her palms on his shoulders to keep her steady in the air.  It feels silly, but still, Yuuta’s smiling and so is she.

The sweet moment is quickly followed by him throwing her down onto the bed, and she might have scolded him on another night, but not tonight.  Not the night she finally gets him back.

Besides, he quickly falls on top of her, barely catching himself before completely crashing into her.  Her stomach is starting to hurt from all the laughing.

“So beautiful,” Yuuta murmurs as he pushes her hair away from her face.  “So, so beautiful,” He repeats, before leaning down and leaving feathery kisses all over her face.  “My beautiful girl,” He murmurs as his kisses trail down the bridge of her nose.  “I love you, so much” He says, as his lips hover over hers.

She takes him by surprise as she leans up, taking his jaw in both her hands and pulls his lips against hers.  He smiles into her kiss.

“I love you too, Yuuta” She murmurs into his mouth, before stealing another kiss.

He could melt away and die right here, in her arms, knowing that she loves him.  He thinks he just might if she keeps kissing him this way.

They settle in for bed after a few minutes.  They don’t speak about the repercussions of Yuuta getting caught in her room after hours, and truth be told, the rules weren’t on either one of their minds.  They’d take the consequences later.

(y/n) snuggles into Yuuta’s chest with a bright smile, which he mirrors as he tucked the blanket around the both of them comfortably.  Even as sleep starts to invade her senses, (y/n’s) still smiling.

Finally, they’re able to get a good night’s rest, wrapped in each other’s arms. ___

xoxo - jordie

[bookish-whore]

'Til Death Part II

Rhysand x Reader

Words: 5k

Warnings: I don't think there are any besides Rhys being the most handsome and sexy high lord (jk slight reference to abuse)

A/N: Hello my darlings!! I know it's been awhile I have just been insanely busy and haven't had the time or energy to sit down and write (thank you all for your kind words, understanding, and patience it absolutely means the world to me like you have no idea)

Below is the long-awaited (and promised) second part of this series. I love you guys ❤️

"Til Death Masterlist -> Here

My Masterlist -> Here

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The room looked much different in the daylight.

That was my first thought as I blinked open my eyes and took in my surroundings. The room was still as gorgeous as it was when I walked in last night, but it all suddenly felt more real as the sunlight streamed through the large windows casting the room in a lovely morning glow.

I took some deep breaths as everything from the day prior came flooding back. I got married, and I was living in Rhysands’ townhouse. I was no longer under the control of my parents, I was safe, and I was alone and in my room, in the Night Court. Which was strange considering my entire life I was told scary stories about this place and the people that resided here. But so far it didn’t seem too bad, I didn’t see anything to be afraid of here.

Once my heartbeat slowed back to normal, I threw the covers off my body and made my way to the windows. Last night, in the dark it was hard to make out just how elegant this estate was, from my window I could see a large fountain that stood in the center of a cobblestone courtyard and a vast array of gardens with all kinds of flowers, from my position I could make out roses, wisteria, ivy, lilies, and that there was a pond and a series of walking paths.

Three raps on my door pulled me from my admiration of the estate. I wrapped my arms around myself as I turned to face the door and cleared my throat “c-come in”

The door opened to reveal a young woman. She had curly brown hair which was tied up out of her face and she had the most stunning sapphire eyes, I also noticed her attire, she had on a simple housedress with an apron which made me think she was one of the many fae that I had heard kept up the high lords’ residences.

“Good Morning Lady Y/N” she said in a soft voice as she placed a tray of food on the table by the fireplace.

“Good morning” I said following her to get a look at what kinds of food were common here in the Night Court.

“Shall I begin my duties My Lady?” she asked

“Ummm- your duties? of course, and there is no need for such formalities you can simply call me y/n”

“Of course my lady, whatever you prefer” she said as she opened the curtains before making her way to the bed

“And what shall I call you?” I asked as she made quick work of the bed, fluffing the pillows and putting them in their respective spaces.

“My name is Osha” she said softly with a nod

“Am I always expected to eat here in my chambers?” I asked

“Of course not” she exclaimed “It is just that the high lord thought it would make you more comfortable to have some time to yourself to process the excitement of the last day- and perhaps to prepare for dinner”

“What is so unique about dinner?” I asked her, helping myself to the coffee on the tray.

“Well, I would expect that he will introduce you to his most trusted advisors and friends.”

“Were they at the ceremony yesterday?” I asked as I added cream and sugar to the dark liquid

“Most likely my lady, he rarely makes any large-scale decisions or actions without them.”

“and do you think that they are good people?” I asked.

“Of course, my lady” Osha replied dusting the bookshelves and putting things in order. “they are quite respectable”

“Can I ask you a question Osha?” I asked timidly, unsure if she would simply report my actions back to Rhysand, but I accepted it would just be a risk I had to take.

“Of course, my lady” she said pausing to face me and give me her undivided attention. As though she understood that this was important to me.

“What do you think of him-” I took a shaky breath before clarifying “The high lord I mean”

Her eyes softened as she spoke about him “He is a good male; he cares deeply for his friends who are more like his family, and he is kind to his staff and his citizens. He might seem intimidating my lady, but after everything he has suffered through it is an image he must maintain. I’m sure he would tell you all about it if you asked.”

I nodded along, curious to know more about this man I was connected to, my husband.

“Thank you for being so honest, and please just call me y/n, Osha.”

“of course…m- y/n” she replied, my name sticky in her mouth as though she wasn’t used to such comfortability with members of the household “is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No Osha, I think I’ll be alright.” I said turning my attention to my breakfast.

“There’s a bell here” Osha said signaling the tasseled rope that hung by the fireplace “just give it a pull and I’ll return for the tray and to help you dress for the day” she called as she left, closing the door behind her softly.

My stomach growled in anticipation of the food; it smelled so good and I figured if Rhysand was going to harm me he would have done it before breakfast. I examined the tray deciding I would start with the sausages and before I knew it, I had devoured the entire plate.

I stood from the couch and rang the bell, wondering how quickly Osha would return. For a brief moment I hoped that I wasn’t disturbing her from her other duties.

She rapped her knuckles twice on the door announcing her arrival before stepping into the room. One thing I learned is that Osha does not waste any time, she collected all the dishes and placed them on a rolling cart outside the door before showing me to the bathroom and she promptly walked me through all the oils, salves, and lotions and what they were for before showing me how the tub operated. She even told me where all the spare items were should I ever need them.

I didn’t think I could be more grateful to her until she offered me some privacy by turning around while I undressed and stepped into the warm bubbly water. She helped me wash my hair and told me about growing up in the Night Court, she even told me about some of their annual traditions and spots in needed to visit in the city.

When we finished with the bath, she helped me into a dressing robe which I had to admit was one of the nicest fabrics I had ever put on my body. Osha instructed me to sit on one of the stools while she made work of my hair. Brushing through it gently.

I was really hoping Osha wasn’t reporting my actions back to Rhysand because I found myself answering questions about my childhood and my upbringing, I realized quickly that I could really enjoy it here.

“All finished” Osha said as she pinned the last hairs into place.

She handed me a mirror to look at her work, it was stunning yet simple. She braided my hair and pinned it into a circle around my head, with only my bangs and a few face framing pieces left out. It kind of looked like a crown, I thought to myself. “I love it” I told her as she put away the combs and remaining pins.

“Do you know what you’d like to wear today?” Osha asked as she returned to my side

“I didn’t really bring much with me from home” I said nervously

“Oh you don’t have to worry Y/n, the high lord made sure your closet was stocked so you would have options until your things arrived”  

“Why don’t you pick?” I suggested “since you know the styles here, but please keep it comfortable.”

She smiled wide before retreating to the closet. She emerged a few moments later with her choices. Osha had picked a simple white dress with long sleeves that fell off my shoulders, she had paired it with a simple light green vest-like corset embroidered with cream and pink roses and my comfortable everyday boots. I thanked Osha for her help, and she left to do what I assumed were her other duties around the house.

I took a deep breath, giving myself a once over in the mirror. I knew I wanted to explore this place a little, get to know my new home before I had dinner, before I had to see him again. I checked the clock on the wall and was surprised to find that it was already midday. I put my hand on the doorknob, took a deep breath and stepped into the hall.

It was quieter than I thought. I figured there would be an onslaught of activity, people walking around the house but there was not a soul in sight. I walked down the hall to the grand staircase Rhysand led me up last night. When I got to the bottom, I turned towards a large hall and walked towards the smell of bread.

I ended up in the kitchen, where surprisingly I found the high lord of all people.

He was sitting on top of the counter, his black suit still impeccably clean despite his relaxed posture. So far, he wasn’t at all what I expected. He saw me immediately and jumped off the counter, he waved his hand and the staff made themselves busy clearing out the room until it was just the two of us.

He took a step towards me, straightening his jacket and running a hand through his hair.

“Hello” he said, his voice low and gravelly.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt-” I quickly said, pausing to look around the kitchen “whatever it is you were doing.”

“You didn’t interrupt anything” he chuckled “I like to come in here around this time.”

“Why?” I asked

“I like the fresh bread” he replied, offering me a large piece. It was still warm from the oven, and it smelled divine. I took the piece tentatively from his hand tearing off a bite sized amount before bringing it to my lips.

I couldn’t help but moan at the taste, I wasn’t allowed such fresh helpings back home, and until now I wasn’t even aware of what I was missing. I continued pulling small pieces from the loaf and eating them as did Rhysand.

“So, how was your first night here?” he asked “did you sleep well”

“I did” I replied swallowing down another piece “and you?”

“How did I sleep?” he asked

I nodded.

“Fine, I suppose” he said with a grin

“This is strange, isn’t it?” I asked “you know being- being married yet we hardly know each other, living in the same home- it just feels so peculiar. At least it does for me”

“I think we can make the best of it” he said “like I told you yesterday, everything from here on out is up to you. you can decide what boundaries you need and I will respect them, you have my word”

“But aren’t there some things that- that are- non-negotiable?” I asked tentatively.

“Like what?” he asked, his violet eyes piercing mine as I met his gaze

“Well, you know- our” I cleared my throat bringing my voice to an almost whisper “marital duties”

“Mmmm” he sighed “yes there is that matter” his eyebrows furrowed as he took another piece of bread “What would you have us do?”

“Well are we not supposed to do what married people do?” I asked

“And what is it that married people do?” he said with a grin, his arms casually crossed over his chest.

“Now you’re just teasing me” I said rolling my eyes at the male.

“Are you demanding I perform my marital duties to you?” he asked in feigned seriousness.

“Of course I am not demanding, I am just curious that it would rouse suspicion, or possibly that there would be questions surrounding the legitimacy of our union”

“Well allow me to put your worries to rest. No one would dare ask me whether I bedded my wife, nor would I bed her without her enthusiastic consent”

I simply nodded in response, hoping he didn’t notice the slight reddening of my cheeks at his candidness.

“Like I said y/n, this arrangement benefits us both.”

“And in what ways does it possibly benefit you?”

“Do you want the truth?” he asked

“The complete and honest truth” I said “always”

“Well, it gives me a political advantage, one of my duties is presiding over the court of nightmares in the Hewn City, and to some of the more traditionalist thinkers were adamant I needed a wife, for my image and to settle concerns over the succession of my throne. And secondly, your parents offered an economic advantage; their position in the Autumn court is the perfect excuse to gather intelligence on the goings on in Beron’s lands.”

“Beron? What could you possibly want with my uncle?”

“In all honesty y/n, I can’t trust you with that information yet.” He said firmly “I hope you can understand that.”

“Of course. I mean I am still practically a stranger to you”

“I will tell you… eventually.”

“Rhysand, I-”

“And please call me Rhys”

“…Rhys…I promise I understand- really I do.”

A tense silence passed between us as I thought about my life as his partner.

“You mentioned an heir” I said breaking the tense silence that had settled between us

“I did”

“Is that- do I- am- I just-“

“Calm down y/n I don’t expect you to carry my child. Nor do I expect you to want a child. If you do I’m sure we can figure out an arrangement”

“but is that something that you would want?” I asked tentatively “I just mean that this arrangement seems to be more beneficial to me than it is to you.”

“Your part in this arrangement is crucial y/n, you’ll just have to take my word for it.”

“Okay” I agreed splitting the last of the loaf into two pieces and offering one to the high lord.

“Now” he said wiping the crumbs from his hands “How about a tour. It was late and dark last night so I didn’t want to overwhelm you with all the logistics of your space and the house”

“I would love that” I agreed

“Well then” he said motioning me towards the hall towards the entryway “Shall we?”

He followed me back to the front door and showed me the sitting room and dining room which were both adjacent to the foyer and I followed him back down the hall towards the kitchen where he pointed out a few closets, and bathrooms. Then he led me upstairs, through a series of halls pointing out each bedroom and who it belonged to. I figured it would make more sense once I met these people formally.

We continued the tour by making our way up a small spiral staircase that had been hidden behind an unassuming door until we reached an ornately carved set of double doors. He stopped in front of them, bracing one of his hands on the doorknobs, he turned them but didn’t push open the doors yet.

“Now this- is one of my favorite features in the house” he said with a grin “close your eyes”

I gave him a quizzical look before closing my eyes and putting my hand over them. I heard the soft creak as he pushed open the doors and took my hand leading me into the unknown space.

“okay” he said “open”

I opened my eyes and gasped at the space before me.

It was a library.

It had two levels of massive floor to ceiling shelves that were lined with titles, and large windows that cast the room in an abundance of natural light. There were even tall ladders that reached the very top shelves and tables and loungers strewn around the room. I felt myself get excited over the possibility of spending my time here, unbothered by the world as I disappeared into the pages that lined the walls.

“I think this is going to be my favorite place” I said turning to take in the space.

“it was my sisters favorite place” he said quietly “she would spend hours here with the people from her stories.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister. Is she around? I would love to get to know her”

He was quiet, but as I turned to face him I noticed his eyes looked sad and distant

“she is-” he cleared his throat “she is…gone”

“oh” I said reaching my hand to rest on his arm “Rhys- I am so sorry”

“You didn’t know” he said, his hand covering my own as he took us deeper into the space.

We spent what felt like hours perusing the shelves, I picked out a few titles to be sent to my room for some late-night reading and we continued on our tour. Rhys took me up the remaining flights of stairs until we reached the roof. Which boasted a view of the city, and had a lovely garden and lounge area.

Once we concluded the tour, Rhys walked me back to my room and told me about his dinner plans. He mentioned his “inner circle” and I could only imagine this was what Osha meant this morning. He told me to come down around eight and he would make introductions.

I felt nervous, what if they didn’t like me. Or they thought I was a spy for a rival court. How could I possibly convince them that I was just as desperate to escape my situation and that Rhys offered me salvation, he offered me a life of my own, where I could be free to make my own decisions. I laid in bed thinking of the ways this dinner could go horribly wrong.

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

I jolted awake at the sound of knocking. I looked at the clock atop the fireplace and noticed it was already half past six. I quickly jumped from the bed to get the door as the handle turned and in walked Osha.

“I’m sorry to disturb you y/n, I just thought I would help you get ready for dinner.  I didn’t realize you were nap-”

“It’s really no trouble Osha, thank you for waking me. I- I want to look my best tonight. you know to make a good impression.”

“I think the inner circle will get along with you just fine” she said with a playful smirk.

I nodded and flashed her a nervous smile.

“Come along, I think your hair should be down tonight.” she insisted, I made no objection and sat at the vanity as she meticulously unbraided her previous work, letting my hair fall in loose waves down my back. We chatted casually as she worked pinning pieces into place and making sure it looked presentable.

I picked a black dress for tonight, I thought it was fitting considering this was Rhysand’s inner circle, his closest friends and advisors. I imagined they had spent hundreds of years together and were more like a family than anything else. It was simple, yet elegant and was surprisingly comfortable. It had long sleeves detailed with lace and a tight bodice that widened out at my waist and cascaded to the floor.

“You look perfect” Osha said as she walked around me, taking in all the details of my ensemble for tonight.

“Are you sure it’s not too much?” I asked

“Not at all y/n” she said flashing me an approving smile.

I took one last look at myself in the mirror before heading towards the door, my fae senses already picking up the faint sounds of laughter and the bustling commotion of the house workers downstairs. As I made my way down the winding staircase, I reminded myself to take deep breaths. Except my mother’s warning kept running through my head. Don’t disappoint us, remember what you were bred for.

I shook her voice from my mind as I entered the sitting room and was immediately bombarded by the blonde from the wedding, a large smile plastered across her face as she pulled me into a hug. “Y/n my dear!” she exclaimed “How are you? I do hope my cousin has been treating you well.”

“He has” I managed to say with a smile, making brief eye contact with my husband before he looked away, engaged in his conversation with the large winged males, there were two other women in the room as well seated on a sofa clearly engaged in their own conversation, they didn’t seem to pay me any mind.

“Allow me to make a few introductions, firstly and most importantly I am Morrigan, but you can call me Mor.” The blonde said with a hand to her chest, she looped her other arm through mine as she led me around the room. As we walked, she whispered low in my ear “I think were going to be great friends”. She gave my arm a gentle squeeze of reassurance as we approached the two females who straightened as we stood before them.

“This is Nesta” Mor said gesturing to the brunette female seated on the couch, Nesta looked me over and the corner of her mouth lifted slightly as if in approval. Mor turned to introduce me to the other female seated opposite Nesta but before she could say a word the raven haired woman interrupted.

“and I am Amren” she said, her voice soothing and calm

I gave them both a nod and a soft curtsy, I wasn’t entirely sure of the etiquette in this situation considering I was technically their high lady and outranked them but I figured it was a sign of respect.

“It is wonderful to finally meet you both” I said “I didn’t really have a chance to talk to everyone after the ceremony”

“Yes we made quite a hasty exit” Rhysand said as he approached behind me and Mor, he placed a hand on the small of my back and flashed me a smile as he came into view. The two males he was talking with circled the couch; I could feel their eyes on me as though they were inspecting me as one took the seat beside Nesta and the other leaned against the wall in the corner of the room, his hands resting over his chest.

“Do we not get introductions Rhysie?” the long haired one next to Nesta said with a smirk, the other male simply smiled but remained quiet in the corner of the room.

“How ever could I forget” Rhys said with a laugh as he turned to face me more directly “Y/n, this is Cassian, general of the Night Court armies, and a general pain in my ass.”

“I love you too brother” Cassian said as he moved his arm to rest behind Nesta.

“And this-” Rhys said with a gesture to the male in the corner “Is my spymaster and shadowsinger, Azriel. And it seems that you’ve met the others.”

“I did” I said looking over the group “I just want to say that I really am happy to finally meet you all, I’ve heard how important you are to Rhysand, and I only hope that you’ll give me a chance to prove myself useful here.”

“So long as you remain honest, I don’t think we’ll have a problem girl” Amren said sipping from her embellished glass.

“Well now that introductions have been made, how about we talk over dinner and drink?” Rhysand said gesturing towards the dining room. The inner circle all stood and made their way to the room across the hall, Rhys gripped my hand before I could step away.

“Can I have a word, before we join the others?” he asked

“Of course,” I said as he led me to the back corner of the room, no doubt away from prying fae ears

“I just want to warn you, they are going to ask you questions, they are going to pry but they mean well”

“I would be concerned if they just accepted me without a qualm” I said with a forced smile

“You don’t have to answer anything you aren’t comfortable with, they do understand boundaries they just feel the need to test them.” He grasped my hands in his “they just want to get to know you, and if at any point you feel stuck just ask them questions, especially Mor because once she starts talking it’s hard to get her to stop.”

“noted” I said looking towards the floor

“You have nothing to worry about y/n” Rhys reassured me, I felt his hand grip my chin turning my face to meet his “and I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier tonight y/n but you…you are absolutely breathtaking.”

“Are you two planning on joining us anytime soon” Cassian’s voice boomed

“Always so subtle that one” I said in a whisper as I made my way towards the group. I was hyper-aware of Rhys’ presence behind me as we entered the space and took our seats at the table, his at the head, and mine to his right.

Dinner passed with polite conversation, by the main course of roasted lamb and potatoes I was beginning to relax. They didn’t seem to be too prying; they only asked me questions about where I grew up and what I enjoyed. In the back of my mind, I was slightly concerned they were lulling me into a false sense of security but I doused my fear by the time we came to dessert, which just so happened to be my favorite, chocolate souffle.

“So, what was it like growing up around Eris” Mor asked taking a bite of her dessert

“I wouldn’t know” I said honestly

“But you spent so much time at the Forest House?” Mor retorted

“my parents kept me pretty secluded with my lessons” I said “I would be punished for even looking at the Vanserra boys, let alone speaking to them” I couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory of the lashing I received for merely smiling at Eris when we crossed paths in the hall

The room went silent at my confession, perhaps they had realized just how useless I was. That I didn’t have any of the information they wanted. I could feel myself spiraling, the walls closing in, my breathing speeding up and as if he could sense my panic, Rhys cleared his throat, drawing the attention away from me, which I was overwhelmingly grateful for.

“I think that’s enough for tonight, its quite late and I’m sure y/n is exhausted” he said a clear dismissal of the party, his inner circle slowly dissipated with their goodbyes until it was just the high lord and me remaining.

“Shall we?” he asked holding his hand out to me, I eagerly took it and Rhys walked me to my bedroom, stopping at the door and leaning casually against it his arms crossed over his broad chest. I couldn’t help but notice the strain of fabric at his upper arms. He must have spent decades strengthening his body into a lethal weapon…No, I couldn’t think of him like this

I didn’t realize how close he was until his scent overwhelmed me, rain and cedar. I casually threw my hair over my shoulder as I stood shoulder to shoulder with the male. My hand resting on the doorknob, I gripped it but couldn’t bring myself to open the door. I hesitated, realizing that I didn’t want the night to end.

“Rhys” I said tentatively, soothing my nerves as I let go of the ornate handle and turned fully to face the high lord.

“Yes?” he asked, standing to his full height, his eyes piercing through me as I craned my neck to meet his gaze.

“I just wanted to-” I cleared my throat “to thank you- for introducing me to everyone, and for showing me around today. I-It means a lot to me that you have made me feel at home here”

“it was my pleasure y/n, and they seemed to like you. I’m sure you’ll get more comfortable around them with time.”

“I hope so” I said “because I really want this to work…for the both of us”

“And I have every confidence that it will” he said reassuringly “but you need to get some rest, it has been an exhausting day”

“if you insist” I said twisting the door handle, opening the door of my room.

“Sweet dreams…wife” he teased with a sly smile and a dark look in his violet eyes

“Sweet dreams…husband” I said as I stepped through the threshold into my room, closing the door softly behind me.

I couldn’t help but smile as I prepared myself for bed, and here in my solitude I could convince myself that it had nothing to do with the roguishly handsome high lord and his violet eyes that saw right through all my defenses. Here in the shadows, I could remain in denial because I was in deep shit.

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[luvfy0dor]

"With a Big Cake, Happy Birthday ♡⁠˖" Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; None!

Description; Fyodor celebrates your birthday with you by eating cake for dinner because why not?

A/n; happy bday to me and any of my bday twins, I was gonna do an event but I chickened out because I had no ideas tbh so here's this. ALSO BIG THANKS TO MY POOKIE @ilovechuuy4 FOR ALL THE BDAY WISHES AND POSTS THEY MADE ME CRY SO HARD ☹️💜

ೃ⁀➷

Some time ago, you mentioned to your boyfriend the day of your birthday, and you almost thought he had forgotten. That was a rather silly mistake though. Fyodor could never forget such a thing, especially since it's your special day of the year.

The darkness of the early morning did anything but shine through your window as your alarm woke you up. You felt one of Fyodors thin arms drooped over your side, his chest rising and falling against your back. You lifted your head from your pillow, reaching for your phone and preparing yourself for the flashbang you would experience when you pushed the power button. Your eyes squinted as you tried to look at the bright rectangle of light in your hand, immediately turning the brightness down. It really did help, and you swiftly turned your alarm off. Scooching out of bed, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and yawned. You could still hear Fyodors soft breathing as he snoozed in the bed. You smiled a bit before getting up and skittering off to go about your morning routine. Fyodor usually woke up before you, but you wanted him to get some sleep since he didn't really have a designated awakening time.

You threw on some clothing and ate something before returning to your bedroom to find Fyodor still in the same position. Fyodor has always slept like a rock, constantly sleeping in the same position. Quickly leaning down, you peck his forehead and re-adjust the covers over his body. You then exit the room, grabbing your keys with a small sigh and walk out the door, not really enthusiastic to spend your day at your job.

While you were away, Fyodors eyes peeked open, his face halfway covered by the blankets. He stretched underneath the covers and pushed them off of his body. He yawned and blinked the sleep away before calling out for you. "Y/n?" He asks, his soft voice cutting through the silence of the house. The lack of response told him you had already gone off to work. He didn't mind you leaving without waking him, but he did like saying goodbye to you. Especially on your birthday. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, his bony fingers pressing your contact and messaging you. His messages were always short and to the point, and this one was really no different.

"Good morning, Moya Lyubov. Happy birthday."

You smiled when you noticed the notification on your lock screen, happy that he remembered. You continued on with your day at work while Fyodor made the decision of baking you a cake. Fyodor was a great cook, but baking was slightly out of the scope of his talents. However, he didn't mind trying for his lover. He gathered his supplies, pulled his hair back and washed his hands. He googled a recipe and followed one that he thought you would really enjoy. He was limited to ingredients though, so he had to chose between chocolate or vanilla. He added the dry ingredients to one bowl and then added the wet ones, blending it all together to create the cake batter. He poured it into three separate pans after spraying some butter around the sides. While the cakes cooked, he made a caramel filling for in between the layers. It didn't take very long for the cakes to cook, coming out nearly perfect with nothing on the toothpick he penetrated the center with. He hummed I'm approval and set the cakes to the side to cool.

He then created a buttercream frosting, taste testing it on a separate spoon to ensure that it was sweet enough for your liking. He spreads the filling on top of the two bottom cake layers and frosted it, proud of his work upon finishing it. He also found some sprinkles in the cabinet, so he scattered them on top of the cake, sticking it in the refrigerator until you got home. Until then, he would wash his hands once more and head to his little office-like work room.

Hours had passed and he was getting a substantial amount of work done when he hears your soft footsteps throughout the house. He raised an eyebrow, realizing he must've missed the door opening. He got up and walked out into the hallway. "Are you home, my dear?" He calls out. Unlike this morning, he receives a reply. "Yeah, I'm back." You say from the living room. He goes to greet you, pulling you into a gentle hug and kissing your forehead, mumbling against your skin and taking your hand. "Welcome back, did you have a good birthday?" He asked, looking at you through his long, dark eyelashes, the usual microscopic smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You just sighed and slumped your shoulders a little. "I mean, it wasn't necessarily bad but I'm sure it'll be so much better now that I can spend time with you instead."

"Hmm, I'll try to make it as good as possible for you, my love." He says, resting his head stop yours. "While you were gone, I made you a cake." He says, his eyes closed while he just stands with you for a moment. Your eyes light up when he says that, and you can't help but squeeze his hand and press a soft kiss to his collarbone. "Really? You didn't have to do that for me." You humbly say, moving your head from under his chin to look at him. "Well why not? I did it out of my own will, not obligation." He says, his voice smooth and soft as he spoke. "It's your birthday, you deserve something special, no?" He questions you, his own hair falling in front of his face. You grin and nod, accepting his kind gesture. "Yeah, I guess you're right." You say. He gives you a small smile and leads you to the kitchen. He drops your hand in order to take the cake out of the fridge, setting it on the counter. "I'm certainly no chef-" you cut off his accented speech with a peck on his lips. "It doesn't matter, I'm still very grateful." You say, grabbing two forks and handing him one of them.

The both of you start to eat the cake, talking about your day amongst other things. He listened to you talk a lot, he really did love the sound of your voice. Even if you were just yapping to yap, he didn't care in the moment. His head leaned into his fist as he took bites contently, his eyes staring at you while you spoke with both your mouth and hands. Over the course of 15 minutes, you and Fyodor had chipped away about one third of the cake while exchanging sweet words between your conversations. You also inched closer to him, his arm around your waist with your hand cupping his cheek, a bit of frosting on his cheek from your finger. Your conversations continued with the cake sitting further down on the counter from the spot Fyodor was leaned against. You leaned in and kissed him on the corner of his lips before you wiped the frosting off with your ring finger, sucking it off. He smile and guided your chin closer, pulling you in and pressing a gentle, loving kiss to your pretty lips.

You hummed, one hand on his shoulder and the other twirling some of his hair. You pulled away after a moment and he spoke up. "I hope you like the cake, moya lyubov." He softly says, his cheeks tinted red in the slightest. You nodded. "Ofcourse I loved it. The cake made my day, like, a million times better. You being here alone already does that." You say hugging him and resting your head on his shoulder. He rubs your back gently, his cool hands sliding up your shirt as you both stand together. "I'm glad I could do that for you." He confesses truthfully, his thin fingers tracing shapes onto your skin while the both of you just kinda sway together for a moment; starting off your peaceful and sweet night with your lover.

A/n; Thank you guys so much for always enjoying the stuff I put out, it makes me so happy! I hit 5k likes the other day and wanted to cry because of how happy I was lol, so thank you!!! 💜

[gghostwriter]

Yours Truly, Romeo

Epilogue __ Ever After

Spencer Reid x FOC

Summary: Washington, DC - A string of grizzly murders and obsessive love letters causes Olivia and Spencer’s paths to intertwine. With a serial killer proclaiming his undying devotion to her and the thick tension surrounding her and her agent turned bodyguard, Olivia’s life is writing out like a contemporary love story that she, as a successful writer, could see herself publishing.

A/N: And this marks the end of my first spencer reid series. I had a lot of fun writing this and I hoped you as a reader enjoyed it too 💗

previous chapter || series masterlist

“But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.” - Act 2, Scene 1. Romeo & Juliet by William Shakespeare 

Olivia wasn’t one to get so nervous on book events. After all, she’d done it countless of times in numerous states but this one may be the one that mattered most. A year after, she had approached her agent with an autobiographical fiction idea—a re-telling of her harrowing stalking and kidnapping case. From the publication standpoint, it would be a guaranteed hit but that wasn’t the reason she wanted to write it, not for the royalties—which she has pledged to donate to a foundation and not for added fame—which she never craved for herself. 

Rather, she wanted to use her privilege and voice for the other victims. Her boyfriend of three years had wholeheartedly supported her idea. Spencer had become a rock for her during the aftermath. He was there to soothe her back to sleep when she’d find herself screaming awake from nightmares, he was there to stroke her hair when a certain smell would remind her of the gilded cage the unsub had built for her, and he was there to kiss her worries away when the anxiety of being touched by another came and went. 

The same Spencer, who made sure his schedule matched with this event, was also nervous. He could decipher patterns, crack cases, and face the worst humanity has to offer without breaking a sweat but here he was almost sick to his stomach for a completely different reason.

He sat by the sidelines as Olivia answered questions picked by the publication and by participating audiences. His mind helplessly wandering as he looked back on how they got here to this moment. Their relationship had its ups and downs, just like any couple would. It wasn’t smooth sailing, especially when she agreed to move in with him in Virginia. The adjustment was rough. For Olivia, it was the downgrading, from a home to an apartment and for Spencer, it was no longer having the place all to himself. Between the both of them, their book collection was enough to overflow the apartment. It took them months of arguments and compromising before finally throwing in the towel and contacting Morgan for housing properties. A big move. A really big move.

Through it all, he realized how much he loved her. There was no moment where he questioned if what they had was real, if it was all just transference. Being with her felt right, like he was always meant for her—two halves of a perfect whole. The journey, no matter how treacherous, was worth it if it meant she was there at the end to squeeze his hand and kiss his worries away. 

He stood up and clapped, along with a hundred listeners as they wrapped up the event—book signing done during the first half. 

“Hey sweetheart, I’m so proud of you,” Spencer breathed out, pulling Olivia into a hug. “You were amazing out there.”

“Thanks, Spence. It was great to know you were here supporting me,” she bashfully adjusted her shoulder bag. “Amanda says I’m free to leave so I’m yours for the rest of the day.”

Taking her hand into his, he gently pulled her towards the exit. “Well, what does my favorite author want to do? The world is our oyster.” 

“Dr. Reid, I think you may be lying. I can’t be your favorite author, that’s Tolstoy’s spot.”

He watched as she threw her head back with laughter. So beautiful she was and so carefree. He knew the dictionary like the back of his hand but there seemed to be no words accurate enough to describe how enchanted she had made him feel. 

“Well who says I can’t have two favorites?” he quipped back before stopping in front of her side of the car. He needed to do it now before it comes tumbling out of him while on the road.

Spencer reached into his satchel, taking a deep breath as he did and pulled out a new copy of her book titled, Yours Truly. “And since you’re my other favorite author, can you sign my copy?”

Olivia’s eyes sparkled with intrigue. “Sure—” she drawled out. “Y’know you could have lined up during the signing a while ago but sure, anything for my number one supporter.”

He raked his hand through his hair as he watched her flip to the dedication page and freeze.

Right below her dedication that says:

To my own knight in shining armor,

Without you, there would not be this.

I will be eternally grateful and foolishly

in love with you till the end of time.

Was an additional paragraph scrawled in his own handwriting

Olivia, will you do me the great honor and allow me to spend the rest of my life by your side. I love you. I love you. I love you. Will you marry me?

She looked up from the book, tears brimming in her eyes, as he presented a black velvet box and nestled within it was a diamond ring. 

“I-I’m usually not good with speeches and I tend to go off on an tangent but Olivia, my love, I can’t imagine a life without you in it. Will you do me the honors?”

“Yes. Yes, of course. Spencer, yes.”

He laughed, slipping the ring into hers where it would stay forevermore. 

“I love you, Olivia.”

“And I love you, Spencer.”

— THE END —

[elena-mayfair]

Risky decisions

Paring: Paring: Batman/Bruce Wayne x f!reader, Scarecrow/Jonathan Crane x f!reader Genre: Thriller, mystery, with elements of slow-burn romance Warnings: rating T+/M, strong language, violence, themes of depression, depictions of mental illness Summary: Bruce knew he should keep his distance. He knew that any move he made toward her was the worst possible idea. He could picture every feasible, most probable, far-reaching outcome of his actions. He knew the answer to every if and when. Every possible scenario. He could see every worst possible future. Violence, pain, suffering, shock, disappointment, death, blood on his hands. He could see them all and each of them separately as they projected like a movie tape before his open eyes, intercut frame after frame by the image of his hand over hers. And yet, despite all his knowledge, experience and certainty that he knew, he couldn't find within himself the answer to one question. "What if I'm wrong." Word count: 14.3k Note: Some gifs are not mine, credit to the authors.

Series masterlist

***

"Are you free tonight?" Bruce asked casually as if an idea had unexpectedly crossed his mind.

"I'm sorry, but I already have plans," you replied, and to your surprise realized that your heart wanted to give a quite different answer. "Raincheck?"

"Another one," he smirked, "we didn't get a chance to go to the movies as we had planned."

"Bruce, men are divided between those who seek opportunity and those who can create one," you began flirtatiously, feeling a sudden boost of confidence, "I'm sure you are one of the latter."

He answered nothing. He simply smiled with that signature mysterious half-smile of his, leaned toward you and gently brushed his lips against your cheek. For a split second, the exuding aromatic scent of his fragrance surrounded you. Spices, citrus, leather and something sweet that lingered close to his skin. You imagined him in a black cashmere sweater, sitting with a book by the fireplace, sipping on a glass of whiskey delighted by the quietly resounding jazz. It was a good image, warm and comforting, you wanted to save it in your memory to one day relive in reality.

"Thank you," his low, husky voice snapped you out of your daydreams, "I can't remember the last time I had such a wonderful time."

Some part of you wanted to defuse the tension with a witty joke, a snappy retort, a self-deprecating slight, but when you glanced into the ocean depths of his blue eyes all you could do was to respond with the same.

"I thank you," you replied softly, "see you soon?"

"See you soon."

*

"Soon" was about to come earlier than you expected, but at that moment you didn't realize it. A few minutes after noon you closed your apartment door behind you, threw your suitcase into a corner, and sat at the window with a freshly brewed mug of coffee. You longed for the touch of his lips that still lingered on your cheek to last, along with the scent of his perfume that still floated around you. You gazed at the cloudy gray Gotham sky and drifted into dreams. These past three days were like a journey through the most beautiful fairy tale, even if at times the vibrant magic got covered by a shadow of darkness. With him, even the darkness did not appear so dark, taking on a warm enveloping shade instead. Charming and mysterious, full of contradictions, confident, noble, a gentleman in every way, that's what he was, and you wished that "soon" would come as soon as possible.

"I have a date with Jonathan…" your consciousness broke suddenly through the languor. You reached for the phone, fighting the urge to cancel. It didn't feel right, it didn't feel right to Jonathan but especially to Bruce. Perhaps Jonathan did say he liked you, perhaps Bruce never did, but Bruce's behavior conveyed more than any of Jonathan's words. You shifted your gaze to a beautiful black A-line floor-length dress with lace shoulders and a lace insert on the back and sighed with resignation. In your wildest dreams, you never imagined that a weekend in Metropolis would mess with your head like this.

"I can't cancel, it just isn't right," you decided then impulsively opened the Twitter app. The smile disappeared from your face as quickly as the feed refreshed.

"Unfortunately I'm afraid we won't avoid controversial headlines," Bruce's voice sounded in your head as your feed filled with photos from TechX most of which featured smiling faces, his and yours. Photos from the red carpet that captured perfectly his hand on your waist, photos of your smiling and slightly embarrassed face as he leaned toward you whispering words of encouragement in your ear, photos that captured his sparkling eyes directed toward you as he complimented you, your beaming smile as you walked with him proudly with your hand placed on his forearm. It was all there, frozen in frames and shots, cropped with variations of the question, "Who is billionaire Bruce Wayne's new girlfriend?" With a trembling heart, you expanded the comments under one of the posts, there were hundreds of them.

Does anyone know who she is? I need an answer asap #curious #brucewaynegirlfriend #brucewayne #techx They look kinda cute #brucewayneinlove #brucewayne Adorable Stunning I wish to be her He deserves better #brucewayne #wayne #brucewaynegirlfriend Is she wearing a dress from Zara? If H&M and Tom Ford made a collab #brucewaynedesrevesbetter Cheap skunk #brucewaynedesrevesbetter Wish he would have go back with Charlotte. They were perfect together #charlotteandbrcue4ever She's so cute omg I'm dying!!! #brucewayne #wayne #brucewaynegirlfriend Need name now! #brucewayne #wayne #brucewaynegirlfriend I would tap that! I look at this and all I want is to become a new villain in Gotham. He's way out of her league. Mommy please seat on my face #BruceWayne could destroy my body and my life and all I'd say is "does tomorrow work for you too?" I would let her sit on my face until I die from suffocation. It would be beautiful death. Whore! BRING VANESSA BACK!!! #bucenessa4ever Gender swapped beauty and the beast They look so in love!!! I'm loving this!!! He deserves love!!! #brucewayne #wayne #brucewaynegirlfriend You should know better… Is it just me or does she look like Killer Crock did a number on her? Oh my god I am so jealous!!! #brucewayne #wayne #brucewaynegirlfriend He definitely exudes big dick energy #wayne She looks like a girl next door. The kind you want to watch from behind a curtain, in the dark room, with lube nearby.

It was too much. You locked the screen with rage and threw the phone on the bed. Your heart pounded in your chest and blood pulsed in your temples. "Fucking assholes!!! Fucking assholes on fucking Twitter!!!!" you shouted furiously trying to swallow the tears rushing into your eyes. Wonderland was gone. Reality had returned. And you hated it.

*

Bruce hoped to slip into the mansion unnoticed. He had no desire for Dick's quasi-innocent teases, Alfred's controlled curiosity, Tim's knowing glances, or Damian's clearly judgmental stares. All he wanted to do was slip into his bedroom, change his clothes, head to the cave and make up for the past three days. He tried at all costs to maintain a modicum of privacy, and although he usually succeeded now he had a feeling he wouldn't be able to avoid his boys. How was he supposed to maintain privacy in a house full of detectives he himself had trained.

"Father, we need to talk," Damian greeted him with a stern look as he entered the main hall and set down his suitcase. Hands crossed over his chest indicated his determination.

"Not now, Damian. I have work to do," he replied, avoiding his son's scrutiny.

"We did the work, Father. You just have to read the report. I'll admit that in your absence Todd has proved to be an invaluable asset," he didn't take his eyes off him, "I shouldn't be surprised. After all, you trained him."

"Jason was here?"

"You know very well that Jason is always here when you're out of town so don't act surprised," despite his young age and small stature he exuded confidence, "Father, do we have reason for concern?"

"Concern about what?" Bruce played confused.

"Well I probably don't need to remind you that most of the women you've associated with in the past have been on the wrong side of the law," Damian pointed out gruffly, "you told us that this whole affair is driven by the observation and investigation."

"And what makes you think otherwise," Bruce smiled softly, bending down to look his son in the eye.

"The photos that are circulating the Internet reveal a very different story."

"Damian, I assure you that you have nothing to be worried about," he put a hand on his shoulder, "I appreciate your concern, but your suspicions are absurd."

"Father…" Damian began but Bruce did not let him finish.

"Clark and Jon will visit us next Sunday," even though Damian tried to feign indifference Bruce could see a glint of joy in his son's eyes. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he considered Superman's son a friend, "I was hoping it would make you happy."

"It will be a nice change from the company of Grayson and Drake," Damian grunted, "but you're avoiding the subject."

"Because there's nothing to talk about," Bruce denied stubbornly, "and now if you'll excuse me, I really need to get on with my work."

*

With a cigarette in one hand and a phone in the other, you stared at Jonathan's name displayed on the screen. You hadn't heard a word from him in two days, and the evening was approaching fast. You inhaled deeply and let the smoke soothe your nerves. You weren't proud of your returning habit, but you desperately needed to calm down and alcohol wasn't out of the question. You knew it was appropriate to call but anxiety prevented you from making such a bold move. The certainty that he had also seen the photos made your stomach curl and your throat tighten with a strangling choke. Judgment by strangers on social media was one thing, but you weren't ready for judgment from him. With a cigarette hung at your lips, you tapped a simple short message.

Are we still up for tonight?

The answer came a moment later. Equally short and simple, leaving you unable to decrypt his emotions.

Sure we are. I'll pick you up at seven.

The date wasn't looking promising. "A date," as he called it, under your pressure. "It didn't come from him, he invited me there as a friend, I was the one who pushed. Why did I push?" the thoughts piled up in your head. Part of you wanted to move as far away from the idea of a date as possible while the other was pulling toward it with uncontrollable force. After all, it was Jonathan who was always there for you when you needed him, it was Jonathan who answered your calls in the middle of the night, calmed your fears, listened to you, tried to help you, Jonathan not Bruce.

"Bruce busted out the hotel room door because I had a bad dream…"

You lit another cigarette and took a drag.

"Maybe Bruce would have done all this too if he knew? Bruce doesn't push, Bruce understands without words…he is so caring…so understanding…" you stared into space, "Bruce is completely out of my league. Unattainable. Why the fuck am I even thinking about this?" anger stirred within you again, "I wouldn't want to be here with anyone else right now…" you recalled his words and cursed viciously. "Would I even want to be with him? Constantly judged, constantly trending, zero privacy…." and even though your head said one thing your heart strongly disagreed, "oh for fuck sake!!! I have to come down to earth! Jonathan is here, Jonathan is just a regular good guy who likes me and cares about me!"

"Jonathan was in Arkham…" a quiet voice of doubt spoke up from the depths of your consciousness, "Jonathan was in Harleen's hidden office. He was looking for something. Batman was clearly suspicious of him. Batman…"

The thought was now completely unnecessary to you and yet once it appeared in your mind it surrounded all the others with a black cloak drowning them all out. You dimly looked out the window at the darkening sky. You could not help but wonder where he was now? Who was he? What was he doing? Was he chasing criminals? Or was he conducting some kind of investigation?

"Batman would know what to do and who to trust…"

*

Bruce checked his watch nervously, trying to form in his head a schedule for the evening. The gala was starting at eight o'clock in the evening, which would give him four hours of operation time. He could use it to re-analyze the results of the research boys had conducted, meet with Gordon which was well overdue, or take a breather and prepare for the gala. The autumn season provided the benefit of an earlier dusk, and the earlier dusk gave him the cover he needed. Sitting at the kitchen table, in Alfred's quiet company, he swiped mindlessly over the tablet screen while his thoughts kept drifting back to the scent of jasmine and vanilla that surrounded him with soothing warmth as they said their goodbyes.

"Pointless…" he muttered under his breath chastising himself for his indecisiveness.

"Young masters were very pleased with the results of the study and what they were able to achieve," Alfred's attentive ear caught the comment.

"That's not what I'm talking about, Alfred," Bruce corrected himself, "the lab results are truly insightful. They did a remarkable job! We may not know everything but we are one step closer. We have a correlation between the pills and most of the victims. The only thing we're missing is a connection with Juliet Cambell and her daughter…"

"Maybe it's not the same perpetrator after all?

"I'm sure these cases are connected," Bruce mused for a moment, "Damian told me that Jason was in the house. That he was helping with the investigation."

"Master Jason showed up at the house on Saturday morning," Alfred replied softly, "he looked healthy and had everything under control."

"Good…"

"Master Bruce, you are avoiding the problem and therefore its solution," irritation crept into Alfred's controlled voice, "why are you able to talk to each other when you are working and not quietly at home?"

"Al…"

"You raised that boy Bruce! You can't push the conflict aside hoping it will resolve itself! I know you care about him and he cares about you too. "

"I'm not hoping for that…" Bruce interrupted him gently, "Jason has to come to the point where he wants to talk about it himself. If I pressure him he will only lash out and all the progress we have made will be lost. I know something about this…" he smiled faintly remembering his own behavior, "Dick has his eye on him, Jason trusts him. We'll deal with the rest when Jason is ready for it," he locked the tablet screen, finished his coffee and got up from the table.

"I prepared the tuxedo as requested," Alfred stated abandoning his attempt to continue the topic.

"Thank you Al, but the tuxedo will come later."

"What are you planning?"

"I have to see Gordon."

*

The black cloudy sky over Gotham lit up with a bright bat-symbol as if in response to your contemplation. For a moment you couldn't help but feel as if Gotham heard you, listened to your thoughts, listened to your worries, and in response decided to lighten the darkness that surrounded you a bit. Batman was busy which could only mean growing terror. Still, the symbol did not bring fright as it did just a few months ago. It brought a sense of peace, of reassurance. Whatever was happening, Batman was there, whatever would happen next you had the transmitter he handed you. Whatever happened…

"Could I trust him?" the thought came suddenly, "I have to trust someone."

The scattered puzzle pieces you called memories slowly began to come together, and at their center stood Lex Luthor. He had done something to you, of that you were sure. Something that created gaps in your memory, something that created the nightmarish images that haunted you during therapy. Perhaps not by himself, perhaps not with his own hands, but you were convinced that on his orders. You were certain that you were not the only one.

How were you to discover something that had been erased from your memory. How were you supposed to go up against one of the most powerful men in the world? Compared to him, you were a nobody, powerless, hopeless, a mere insignificant voice that could be drowned out at the snap of a finger.

"Bruce is powerful when compared to him…" you quickly pushed that thought away from you. Bruce couldn't know, you couldn't tell him, as a matter of fact, you didn't even quite know what you were supposed to tell him.

The images in your head, the facts from reality slowly pieced together but still were not enough. You continued to be in darkness. You still didn't know. You could only guess. You needed help.

"What about Jonathan?" you wondered for a moment as you slipped the beautiful black gown over your shoulders.

An implacable, infinite blackness enveloped your thoughts and from its depths a quiet, low voice rang out, piercing through your every other thought. A voice that said, "be careful…something is not quite what it seems."

*

Gordon didn't have to wait long to meet his masked friend. Barely a few minutes after he turned on the signal Batman landed softly on the roof of the GCPD building. A stoic, black figure hidden under a black cape that seemed to form a unity with the shadows of the night.

"Did you teleport or what?" Gordon chuckled as he lit a cigarette.

"I was on my way," Batman replied in a low voice.

"Good to see you back in Gotham. Don't get me wrong, working with Nightwing and Robin is definitely more enjoyable than working with you, but still, I'm glad you're back. Honestly, I don't know how you and Nightwing…" he stopped his words in time to refrain from breaking an unwritten rule they had. He pretended not to know who Batman and his team were, and Batman pretended not to know that Gordon knew. "Right, anyways! This morning we apprehended a woman who, unless my hunch is wrong, is another victim of this maniac. Which means we have a living witness."

"She's alive?"

"Yes, but I don't know how useful it will be for us," Gordon sighed heavily and rubbed his tired eyes, "you'd better come with me and see for yourself." He put out his cigarette and headed inside the police station. Batman followed him.

His presence at the police station always generated extremely different reactions. Some sighed loudly in disbelief, smiling, even expressing gratification at his presence, others leaned out from behind their monitors, looked out from their offices to see him, others growled not-so-discreetly calling him a "freak," informing him that "this is a police building." He ignored them all as effectively as Gordon, who only occasionally would send an angry glance or issue a strict order. An order they reluctantly obeyed.

The door to the Holding Cells wing guarded by two heavy-armed police officers was located across from the other one, which Batman knew all too well. Maximum Security in the east wing was a place designated to hold Gotham's most dangerous criminals before their transport to Arkham, Blackgate or, in extreme cases, Belle Reve. Currently unguarded by anyone, it was empty, with a cell prepared for the one whom Batman planned to capture soon. At least that's what he hoped.

The officers wordlessly moved away from the door as soon as Batman and Gordon approached. The young policewoman, far too young, in Batman's opinion, to stand guard in such a place, smiled discreetly as if grateful for his presence.

"What's the status?" Gordon asked dryly.

"It's quiet, commissioner," an older police officer began the report, "the sedatives are still working."

That was all Gordon needed to know. Without a word, he opened the door and he and Batman walked into the wing.

"We had to give her a large dose of sedatives for her own safety," he began the explanation not waiting for Batman's question, "we got a call from civilians, a possible suicide on Penitence Bridge. According to the report, the woman was seen in several different places in Drescher, scared, lost, running away in panic from anyone who tried to approach her. When we arrived at the scene, paramedics tried to calm her down and detain her. Batman…" Gordon stopped in mid-sentence as they approached the cell, "she was petrified."

"Why isn't she in the hospital?"

"She's a witness," Gordon stated, "I'm sure that whatever induced the frightened state is the same substance that caused the death of Juliet Cambell and her daughter."

"Toxicology?"

"We have ruled out the use of drugs," Gordon reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vial of red liquid, "taken thirty minutes ago. I thought you might find it useful."

Batman tucked the vial into his belt pocket and silently opened the cell door to examine the woman more closely. She was lying unconscious, sedated, while her arms and legs were tied to the bed with straps.

"It's for her and our safety," Gordon commented as he followed with his eyes after Batman.

"Scratches, abrasions, tattered clothes on her arm, dirt and moisture on her knees and thighs…" Batman traced his eyes over her body, "she was running away. She must have fallen over more than once." He gently took her arm turning it towards himself, "the only punctures fresh, from the blood draw and sedation…" He ran his eyes over her neck, pushing back her hair in color "…the same as hers."

"History of mental illness? Treatment? Relationship to previous victims?" he asked Gordon not stopping his examination.

"Funny you should ask," Gordon sneered grimly, "our witness here is Sarah Walters, Jeremy Walters' older sister. So I can answer 'yes' to all three questions, the first two of which remain as conjecture. No recorded or documented psychiatric treatment."

Batman did not comment immediately. He gently lifted her eyelid and shone a flashlight into her eyes then took two steps back to examine her whole. Height, body build, hair color, eye color….

"Just like…" he suppressed the surging fear, "I don't believe in coincidences Gordon. Neither do you," he stated quietly, "I have reason to believe that all the victims with the exception of Juliet Cambell and the suicide from the bank robbery had contact with Doctor Jonathan Crane."

"The head of Eliot Memorial psychiatric ward?"

"Conjecture, I have no evidence to back it up. Yet."

"If it's true Sarah Walters may also have had contact with him…" Gordon looked at her unconscious body contemplating, "and if she indeed had it would mean that Juliet Cambell and her daughter…"

"Inform me if you learn anything," Batman instructed, "hopefully when she wakes up she'll be able to talk."

"Don't you want to be around for the interrogation?"

"I don't know if I'll be able to but I'll send someone," Batman stated, "I need to test a sample of her blood and start working on an antidote. I'm sure this won't be the last case like this we see."

***

Johnatan had it all figured out. Every last detail of the approaching evening carefully analyzed and planned including all possible unwanted deviations. He had been preparing for many weeks, working for days and nights, planning every single step, each and every move, carefully and with extreme care. As he put on his shirt and jacket, he ran in his mind through every point of the night ahead, as he tightened his tie he analyzed once again every uncertainty, on the way to his car he methodically ticked off every last checkbox of the plan. He had sacrificed too much, taken too many risks, the plan had to succeed and nothing could stand in his way.

*

At seven fifteen in the evening a black BMW parked on the side of the road in front of your building. You observed it for a while, hidden behind a curtain, waiting for the driver, who should have gotten out of the car, but did not. Instead, a short message popped up on your phone screen.

I'm waiting downstairs.

Anxiety, suspicion, suddenly arose, seemingly without reason. You quickly pushed away the unwanted thoughts, which immediately began to compare this situation with the one from two days ago. This didn't seem right. You took one last glimpse at your reflection in the mirror, brought the most charming smile to your face, and with the intention of enjoying the evening once again left your apartment.

Yet, with each stair down, the positive thoughts seemed to disappear. With each stair, they grew heavier and more anxious. Only three days ago, you were impatient to get an answer to the question that tormented you and brought you no peace. Now, even though your excited heart was beating restlessly, thoughts and instinct seemed to repress it, seemed to take over, to drive out the excitement to replace it with anxiety. Now, you regretted asking the question.

"Nothing happened, though," you tried to explain to yourself, "what am I even thinking about?" you tried to argue. And yet, two and a half days spent in the company of Bruce had changed so much. Just two days were enough for you to see that maybe the world and life didn't always have to be so dark.

*

Jonathan watched her as she left the building. Beautiful, elegant, dressed in black satin and lace that seemed to follow her like a shadow of the night itself. To his eyes she was like a mistress of darkness, powerful without knowing it, tempting without trying, dangerous if she wanted to be, fascinating. He saw it all in her, behind the facade of uncertainty, behind the guise of innocence, with the feigned persona behind which she so carefully tried to hide. He saw it in her eyes when anger ignited her blood, he saw it in her gestures when rage overwhelmed her thoughts, he heard it in her unspoken words when she pushed hard to contain her hatred. He saw it all and wished to get it out of her. But she played her part to perfection. The grace with which she walked down the stairs gently lifting her dress, the look that glanced from under her windswept hair, made a part of him feel like turning back. To take her far away from here, to lock her away from the world, to keep her only to himself. As for the smell with which his car filled as soon as she closed the door behind her, made him eager to rip off her dress and devour her in a rapture of passion. He couldn't. He had given up too much already, risked too much, he couldn't back down.

"Was it for me that you dressed up like that?" he smirked the moment their eyes finally met.

"You said it was a formal gala to which Gotham's scientific elite was invited. I didn't want to stand out from the crowd," sharp as ever, she refused to be embarrassed.

"You chose the wrong dress, then," he swept his eyes over her shamelessly.

"Is it too much?"

"Do you really care?"

"A bit," she smiled that innocent smile of hers, the one he thought didn't quite fit her, then added, "but now it's probably too late to change. So I'll choose to take it as a compliment and bear the consequences of my decisions."

"And rightly so," he smiled slyly and turned on the engine, "I hope you have some energy left after a busy weekend in Metropolis. It's going to be a very interesting evening."

*

In the cool cave below Wayne Manor, everyone had gathered, for it was not often that Bruce called for a briefing before a patrol. Everyone suit up, everyone ready to take on the task that would be given to them. They were a team, they worked as a team, but he had the final word. Bruce was the only one not wearing a suit. Dressed in an elegant black tuxedo, he stood in front of the computer, as if afraid of the creases that sitting in the chair would inevitably cause. He silently stared at the computer screen and waited for the conversations to finally quiet down so he could begin.

"Sarah Walters, the victim restrained this morning," he began quietly, displaying the case file on the computer, "the thirteenth victim, of a psychopath we have so far been unable to identify or apprehend," a long pause brought a silent tension to the team, "thirteen victims. Thirteen unclosed cases, between which the connections are thin."

"We will find him," Dick tried to defuse the tension. To no avail.

"As Dick has surely managed to tell you, I have reason to believe that Doctor Jonathan Crane is involved in this case," Bruce continued, "I don't know to what extent."

"Where did this supposition come from? Crane is a respected psychiatrist, highly regarded in his field," Barbara interjected the question, "I did some research on him. An impressive career, outstanding achievements, numerous scientific publications."

"On what subject?" Bruce asked.

"Phobias, PTSD, panic disorders, substance-induced anxiety disorder…" she stopped listing, "I see your point."

"Even you couldn't link it to the attacks without solid evidence," Jason muttered. He remained at a distance the entire time but listened intently.

"True," Bruce only reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle of green pills, "exactly the same ones Tim found in Marc Jacobs' house. You all know the results of the analysis."

"They found them with the victim?" Tim asked, "the same composition, the same chemical compounds?"

"The same composition. Exactly the same pills," Bruce replied evasively giving himself a chance to avoid answering questions he didn't want to answer, "the pills connect unquestionably to nine of the thirteen victims. But given the nature of the latter, the conclusions are self-evident. The perpetrator is the same. Only his methods are evolving."

"He's just getting started…" Barbara sighed quietly.

"We'll stop him before he starts," Dick's hand twitched as if he wanted to embrace her and provide comfort.

"Batgirl," Bruce turned to her, "the victim is currently being sedated in police custody. You and Red Hood will interview her as soon as she wakes up. Commissioner Gordon will keep us informed."

"Bruce…" Barbara began, trying to back away from a mission that required her to work in close contact with her own father. Both of them pretended to have no idea about her costumed alter ego; she didn't want to deliberately strain their unspoken agreement.

"I need you on this one," Bruce interrupted her, "we don't know what she went through or what happened to her. Your sensitivity and gentle approach is invaluable here."

Barbara only nodded, observing Dick's surprised reaction to unusual paring out of the corner of her eye. Bruce noticed it too but ignored it and continued.

"Red Robin," he turned to Tim, "to you and Damian I entrust the city partol. If anything happens, anything that would require our involvement, don't try to prove something to yourselves."

"You got this," they both nodded.

"I'll take care of Crane."

"What about me?" Dick finally asked, " you want me on computer duty?"

"You need a change of clothes," Bruce smirked mischievously, "I believe you'll find a tuxedo prepared in your bedroom."

"You shitting me?! That is so not fair! Why do I have to go!" a grimace of disappointment twisted his face.

"I believe it is your turn," Tim pointed out with a wicked grin on his face.

"Not true! Now it's Damian's turn!"

"You wish!" Damian snorted, laughing as well, "I was forced to the Charity Ball in July!"

"Hood?!" he looked desperately at his brother.

"Forget it," Jason huffed.

"Barbs?"

"My talents are needed elsewhere," she smiled innocently, "besides, your agreements on public appearances don't apply to me," she rightly pointed out.

"Come on, Bruce!!! I hate this stuff!"

"Navy blue as far as I could see was Alfred's choice."

"But I'm already suited up!"

"You have 30 minutes to change and be ready to go," Bruce's tone ended the discussion, "everyone knows what to do. We have an intense night ahead of us," he turned away from them, took his jacket from the back of his chair getting ready to leave, but an unwanted question stopped him in mid-motion.

"You still haven't told us where you found the pills and what led you to put Crane in connection with the case," Jason pointed out. Everyone thought the same thing, but they knew Bruce well enough to know that if he's not talking about something, questions won't change it.

Bruce only looked at Jason with a stone face, and only his gaze betrayed a shadow of emotion. Conflict fought within him like a storm, an instant analysis of the situation, an immediate conclusion, a firm decision followed by hanging the jacket back on the chair and settling heavily in the armchair.

"I found them in Y/N's possession," he replied in a stern voice measuring himself against Jason's softening gaze, "I'm also convinced that the nightmare she experienced on Friday night was induced by them," perplexed by his sincerity everyone remained silent, only Jason dared to ask further.

"She again," he scoffed quietly, "I'm beginning to think that problems find her on their own. Maybe she told you how she came into their possession?"

"She did," Bruce had no intention of lying. He might sometimes deliberately omit certain things but when asked directly, he never lied. That's not what he taught them. "I don't know the details, and I haven't insisted on them, but it turns out that Doctor Crane has been helping her for some time. She didn't say explicitly that she got it from him, but the conclusion seems logical."

"It makes sense," Jason nodded in agreement, his voice sounding much softer than it did moments ago, "will you tell us what happened in Metropolis? You can skip the details."

And so he did.

***

Long years ago, Bruce established a rule in the family. Once in a while, each of the boys appeared with him in public at formal events. This routine was intended primarily, to maintain their secret identity, but also to maintain the public image of both Bruce and his sons. Over time, the family grew and their public presence rotated, with the exception of two events a year, the Wayne Foundation Christmas Gala and his birthday party at which they all usually appeared. One of the many measures they used to keep their double life a secret, admittedly who would have guessed that the obscenely wealthy CEO of Wayne Enterprises and his sons spent their nights as masked crime fighting vigilantes in Gotham.

Dick understood the established rule very well and over the years had grown accustomed to his role in the spotlight, although that didn't change the fact that he hated it more than a drenched suit on a winter night. Although he retained his family name, Gotham's elite treated him as Wayne and observed him with the expectations and judgment the name carried. Still, years of practice, learned mechanisms that came as easily to him as a quadruple backflip, made him bury his resentment deep in the pocket of his navy blue tuxedo, bringing to his face the charming smile that accompanied polite answers to all unsolicited questions.

"Yes, I graduated law from Hudson University and did an additional major in psychology at GU," he answered politely when asked by someone whose name he should remember.

"Oh I currently live in Blüdhaven but it's hard to stay away from Gotham for long. This is my home. So I divide my time a little here and a little here," he smiled brightly.

"Children! Oh no no no no… maybe one day," he attempted to contain his amusement pretending to sip champagne.

"To be honest, I don't have an opinion on the direction Wayne Tech is taking. These are matters that my younger brother Tim is much more interested in," he retreated from the uncomfortable conversation.

Their presence has always sparked general interest. No matter how many years passed, no matter how many events they appeared at, no matter how many times he answered the same question, wherever Bruce was, interest followed. However, this time, to Dick's undisguised delight, most of the attention was focused entirely on Bruce. Photos from TechX circulated the Internet at lightning speed, and Gotham's high class women didn't wait long to surround him with the intention of extracting information from him. It may have been a scientific society Gala designed to celebrate the most brilliant minds, the most outstanding achievements, and the hardest work, but underneath every Gala was a social event where the elite mingled, exchanged gossip, drank, danced, and enjoyed a rich, privileged life.

"If they keep obsessing over you like this you'll never make it to Crane," Dick grinned when he finally managed to drag Bruce away under a contrived pretext, "I can't remember the last time you made such a social fuss."

"Natascha Patenko," Bruce muttered letting his socialite mask drop for a moment.

"Ah yes! Taking the entire Russian ballet on a cruise the day before a performance has that effect!"

"Do you see Crane anywhere?" Bruce scanned through the guests seated at lavishly set tables shimmering with silverware and crystals, swept his eyes around the bar area where the most expensive spirits poured endlessly, peered through the twirling couples on the dance floor.

"You're worried about her," Dick stated completely ignoring Bruce's question.

"He should be here."

"She gives the impression of a smart woman, she can handle a little heat."

"You said he was on the invite list."

"Besides, the subject will die down soon. The buzz will last two weeks tops, then they'll move on to the new hot gossip."

"Dick!" Bruce finally pulled his gaze away from the crowd and looked at him angrily, "we have work to do."

"Hey, I'm just trying to help!"

"Then focus on Crane," his eyes darkened.

"There he is!" Dick's glance ran over Bruce's shoulder straight toward one of the tables, "holy shit…"

*

Jonathan knew you were sure of it. You could see it in the way he surreptitiously scanned his surroundings, in the tone of his voice, in the way the green of his eyes shone angrily every time you smiled kindly at someone. A mixture of anger and possessiveness simmered beneath the surface of his controlled demeanor.

"Are you looking for someone?" you asked softly when his glance once again traveled past you.

"No, why?"

"You're looking around all the time," you pointed out, "so you're either looking for someone or avoiding me."

"Why would I avoid you?" he scoffed, "we're here together. We have a beautiful evening ahead of us. Maybe not as beautiful as the ones you spent in Metropolis, but beautiful nonetheless."

"If you have something to tell me then tell me," you prompted gently, trying to control the anger that was also rising in you.

"If I had something to tell you, I would tell you."

"I can see that you are angry."

"Angry?" the green eyes blazed angrily, "angry? No. I'm not angry. Disappointed more."

"Jonathan…"

"There is nothing to talk about Y/N," he interrupted you, "you are an adult, a free woman who makes her own decisions. One of them was the decision not to tell me you were going to Metropolis with Bruce Wayne."

"I work for him, that was…" you didn't want to explain yourself but you couldn't leave it at that

"If you're about to tell me it was a business trip then save it," he interrupted you again, "I don't resent the fact that you went with him. As I said, your life, your decisions. However, I do resent the fact that you chose not to tell me. That you concealed this detail."

"And what does it matter!" you chuckled in a loud whisper, blessing the orchestra that drowned your conversation.

"It makes me wonder…" he leaned over the table reducing the distance between you, "how many things have you concealed, thinking they don't matter. How many details you left out, how many threads you considered irrelevant. It seems that lies come so easily to you. You pretend to be open, and you lie incessantly."

"Don't psychoanalyze me," you snarled annoyed.

"Can't help it," he smirked but it wasn't a charming smile, "we're talking about trust, I'm offering you my time, attention, support both professionally and privately, help, and you can't bring yourself to be honest.

"And now you are guilt-tripping me…"

"That's how you perceive it," he replied immediately, "I'm pointing out the facts to you. You perceive them as guilt tripping which only means that your subconscious sees it that way."

"I don't!" you denied, "there is no guilty conscience. I had a wonderful time in Metropolis and I have absolutely nothing to regret. It's not my fault that you suddenly decided to act like a jealous boyfriend!"

"Do not project your desires onto my behavior," green glowed dangerously, "I'm not talking about us just the fact that you lie all the time."

"Bitch please," you scoffed, "two days ago you couldn't give me an answer as to what is between us, and now that you saw me in the company of Bruce you suddenly try to change the whole narrative. Maybe if you had been open with me instead of playing mind games we wouldn't be having this conversation now!"

"I'm not playing mind games with you."

"Maybe my head is fucked but I am not stupid!" you snapped, "what was in those pills that you gave me?!" without thinking you shot the question catching him off guard.

"Where did that came from!" he frowned.

"What was in those pills?" you repeated the question, "I may not be telling you everything but I trusted you. I didn't question anything. So answer me."

"A mixture of herbs to calm your nerves and sleep peacefully," he replied calmly.

"If that's so, then why did I have nightmares because of them?" you quipped, "horrible nightmares from which I couldn't wake up! Nightmares as intense almost as those visions during the last therapy?"

"Side effect," he replied gently placing his hand on yours, "why didn't you tell me earlier? Another thing you withheld from me. Why?" you didn't answer so he continued, "if you had told me earlier that you had such a reaction I would have reacted right away. You chose not to, by doing so you, harming only yourself."

"I'm sorry…"

"Don't apologize to me," he smiled softly, "but promise me please, truly promise that you will stop hiding things from me. Lies and secrets are not a good foundation for building a relationship."

"You meant to say friendship," you smirked.

"I know what I wanted to say."

*

Bruce knew he should keep his distance. He knew that any move he made toward her was the worst possible idea. He could picture every feasible, most probable, far-reaching outcome of his actions. He knew the answer to every if and when. Every possible scenario. He could see every worst possible future. Violence, pain, suffering, shock, disappointment, death, blood on his hands. He could see them all and each of them separately as they projected like a movie tape before his open eyes, intercut frame after frame by the image of his hand over hers. And yet, despite all his knowledge, experience and certainty that he knew, he couldn't find within himself the answer to one question. "What if I'm wrong."

"Stay here," he turned quietly to Dick without taking his eyes off Y/N and Crane. Something didn't sit right with him. Every time Y/N looked away, Crane glanced at his watch or phone screen, discreetly yet nervously, only to return to the conversation a split second later. "Watch him from a distance," he ordered.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm about to find out if I'm wrong."

As he approached them with a calm, confident step, he saw how close they were to each other. Closer than he expected. He saw the heated conversation, the angry glances, the cynical smiles. Crane attacked, subtly, stealthily, while she defended herself, only to boldly attack a moment later, directly, without warning. He saw anger in her eyes and surprise in his. He saw the moment when surprise turned into calculated, measured concern. He saw the movement of his lips and understood the words without having to hear them. He was manipulating her. So skillfully that she succumbed to him unaware of his tactics. Her eyes softened with every lie he uttered, her face brightened with every minute in which his hand rested on hers. Her anger gave way to humility, her attack turned into an apology, as Crane continued to weave his manipulations. With each step toward them, the anger grew stronger within him. Anger at the scene he was observing. Anger at her for not realizing the danger she was in. Anger at the fact that by some miracle she was always in the middle of danger. Anger at himself for not inviting her here sooner, for failing to predict this scenario. The anger burned stronger and stronger, with each passing moment fueled by a new emotion, jealousy.

Fragments of a hushed conversation began to reach his ears. The scent of her perfume reached his senses when she glanced up at him and for a moment their eyes met. For a split second, the world seemed to stop. Her eyes shone brightly caught in his while her face lit up with a sincere smile as she slipped her hand out of Crane's grasp.

"Bruce!" she greeted him brightly and for a brief moment he indulged the idea of her being naturally brilliant at this game which, he called life.

"Y/N! Fancy that!" he greeted her, loudly announcing his presence.

"Fancy that…" she repeated with a hint of disbelief in her voice, "I actually should expect you to be here. After all, the gala is named after your family."

"There's no denying it," he replied with a smile unsure of whether she saw through the mask of socialite he had adopted, "Thomas Wayne was my father."

"A renowned surgeon in scientific circles and to the people of Gotham a philanthropist and benefactor," Crane inserted himself into the conversation, "to this day everyone remembers and appreciates his contributions to the city Mister Wayne."

"Ah Bruce, meet Jonathan Crane," although it wasn't necessary Y/N maintained courtesy, "Jonathan, Bruce Wayne."

"It's hard not to know who you are," Crane joked dryly as he shook his hand, "Y/N has told me all about you."

"I certainly hope not," Bruce replied in a vague tone. "So let's put a couple tables together!" it sounded more like a statement than a suggestion.

"I'm not sure they'll let us," Crane expressed his doubt.

"Oh they should," Bruce smirked confidently, "I own the place."

It took only one hand gesture, one look, and reality once again shifted to match Bruce Wayne's will.

"So, Doctor Crane, Y/N said a lot of good things about you," Bruce began the conversation as he sat down nonchalantly in a chair and accepted a glass of whiskey from the waiter, "and I, for my part, have also heard and read nothing but positives. Your work on fear control was particularly interesting."

"Are you interested in psychiatry Mister Wayne?" Crane asked startled.

"Not particularly, but as a board member granting annual research funds, I have come across your work once or twice," Bruce admitted casually, "besides, my son Richard studied psychology at Gotham University. You studied there too, didn't you?"

"That's true," Crane nodded, "I spent the best years of my youth there."

"And if my memory doesn't fail me you also taught for a short time."

"That's also true."

"Why aren't you teaching anymore? Working with young people and tempering their bright minds was not to your liking?"

"We had differences of opinion with some professors about the direction of the research I was doing," Crane replied dryly, "you know a lot for a man who is not interested in psychiatry," the change in his tone of voice did not escape Bruce's attention.

"The Wayne Foundation provides annual grants to both Gotham University and Mercy General, Eliot Memorial Hospitals and minor clinics," Bruce countered with a touch of well-balanced arrogance, "I like to know where that money is going."

"You are continuing your father's legacy," Crane commented, "your father was friends with Roger Elliot, after whom the hospital was named, wasn't he?"

"Friend is a big word. They were both surgeons and worked together. But that was a long time ago."

"Yes, it's tragic what happened to them," Bruce saw through Crane's artificial sympathy, "to both of them. It's truly terrible what happens to good people in Gotham."

"We all know Gotham is a dangerous city. But let's hope it doesn't stay that way."

"Oh yeah! I read about the WayneTech plans you announced on TechX! Impressive!"

"News travels fast," Bruce chuckled and, pretending to reach for his phone, discreetly glanced at Y/N. She looked upset and her usually sparkling eyes clouded with sadness.

"Why the sudden interest in the city's security?" Crane asked, "I know you do a lot for this city, but as you. And here all of a sudden such a big development for the company."

"Oh, it was Y/N who came up with the whole project!" Bruce replied with his businesslike smile, "but I'm sure you already knew that. I couldn't help but support such a thoughtful and well-planned initiative!"

"If it all looks as beautiful as you presented it perhaps the city will stop relying on freaks in capes."

"Could it be that you have no sympathy for Batman and the rest?"

"With all the supposed good they do for the city I think their place is in Arkham. In the padded cells next to those they fight," Crane replied without hesitation.

"Strong words Doctor. I think many would disagree with your diagnosis."

"Batman is a firefighter and arsonist in one," Crane didn't back down, "his very presence creates the conditions for the rise of criminals like the Joker, the Riddler, Two Face, or the new one who surfaced recently, whoever he is. If I were the head of Arkham Asylum I would forbid him from entering the premises and force the police to apprehend and psychoanalyze him."

"You would psychoanalyze everyone!" Y/N playfully chuckled, "I think that's an occupational deviation."

"Everyone has one," Bruce also laughed, "why aren't you the head of Arkham? With your reputation, that shouldn't be a problem."

"Elliot Memorial had greater needs," Crane replied warily, ignoring the incoming call and tucking the phone into his jacket pocket.

"I may not have lived in Gotham for long but I think your diagnosis is way too harsh Jonathan," Y/N continued, "Batman does so much good for the city."

"You're letting your own feelings overshadow rational thinking," Crane countered gently but with firmness.

"I don't think there's anything surprising about it, since he saved my life," seeing Crane's puzzled look she added, "Bruce knows."

"Yes, Y/N demonstrated immense honesty, respect for the work ethic that governs WayneTech, and trust in the company when she explained the unusual medical bills."

"He is risking his own life to help those who need it," she continued.

"That's what the police and emergency services are for," Crane quipped.

"The police also have their limitations," she continued, "it only took me a few days to see how powerless they are against the Joker."

"If there was no Batman there would be no others like him," the light of the screen broke through the blackness of the fabric.

"If there was no Batman there wouldn't be me either," she threw in a final argument, "this discussion is pointless! It's like debating the origin of the egg and the chicken!" she added wryly after a moment, "besides, your phone is ringing. Why don't you answer it?"

"Yes, sorry. It's so annoying," Crane once again reached into his pocket and glanced at the phone screen, "it's one of my patients. I have to answer it, excuse me for a moment."

With a hastened step, Crane walked away and silence fell around the table, broken only by the sounds of violin, cello and piano. An orchestra stationed at the head of the room was playing a beautiful melody to the many couples who twirled on the marble dance floor.

"I didn't think 'soon' would come so soon," she finally smirked at him, "I thought I wouldn't see you for at least a few days."

"Sorry to disappoint," he murmured with a spark of satisfaction shining in his eyes, "I see you've grown sad, I hope not because of something I said."

"No," she replied in a half whisper and took a sip of champagne, "it's because of what Jonathan said. I don't know why the hell he brought up such a distant past. His comment was unnecessary. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize for words spoken by someone else," she was the only one who had never so far mentioned a story that all of Gotham knew and Bruce couldn't help but wonder why.

"I feel obligated. I am his plus one today."

"Forgive me for being blunt, but I take it Doctor Crane is the friend you mentioned?" Bruce inquired.

"Yes…" she replied quietly, "although I'm increasingly wondering if friend is the right word," she added in reflection and gazed again at the dancing couples.

All shades of gold, silver, maroon and blue swirled in the soft light trickling down from a crystal chandelier hung by the marble ceiling. Couples twirled and swooned to the accompaniment of a beautiful waltz led by talented violinists. Seamlessly and rhythmically as if at a fairy tale ball, the gowns rose and fell, flowing in waves with each turn. He observed her in silence. Her subtle smile wandering on her dreamy face, the gleam of delight in her eyes, her finger gently tapping on the exposed knee that slid out of the high slit. He wondered if she was aware of her beauty, if, seeing herself in the mirror, she could appreciate how brightly her skin shone under the black lace that adorned her shoulders, if she could see the magic he saw. Did she know? His heart ached as she closed her eyes delighting in the music. Could he allow himself to be selfish even if only for a moment?

"Beautiful…" he said in a barely audible whisper unable to tear his eyes away from her.

"Beautiful that's true…" she replied with her eyes still closed, "classical music, especially played live by an orchestra…" she fell silent when the pianist began a slow overture, "there is magic in it."

"I was not talking about music…." her eyes opened in bewilderment while a soft blush came to her cheeks, "although as an obscenely rich snob, I appreciate the beauty of classical music," he added provoking her hearty laughter.

"How long are you going to tease me like this?" she asked, drowning her gaze in his, "what do I have to do to get you to finally forgive me for this embarrassing slip-up."

"Dance with me," his eyes darkened, and although he could see that she wanted to escape with hers, she didn't.

"This?" she chuckled, pointing discreetly toward the dance floor, " Mister Wayne, I don't do waltz. So please forgive me but I'll spare myself another embarrassment."

Bruce only rose from his chair, walked around the table to stand in front of her, and extended his hand.

"Dance with me," he repeated, deepening his gaze.

"I can't…" she whispered but her eyes smirked, "marble and heels don't seem to be safe."

"Take my hand and trust me," he did not lower his hand, "I will not let you fall."

She hesitated. For a moment, for a split second, there was uncertainty in her eyes which disappeared immediately. She smiled brightly, took his hand, and let herself be led towards the dancing floor.

*

Your heart was pounding frantically, threatening to burst out of your chest as Bruce took your hand and, holding it slightly outstretched in the air, led you to the dancing floor. Before your eyes, reality shifted once again to match his presence as the dancing couples moved aside creating space for you. But he seemed not to notice. With his eyes fixed on you, he placed one hand on your back and closed the other on yours.

"You forget to breathe," he whispered pulling you closer to him, "forget about them. They don't matter."

"They stare…" you whispered wandering with your eyes.

"So do I," he pulled you closer as if to eliminate the distance between you and sank his gaze into your eyes. You smiled, put your hand on his shoulder, and flowed.

As if carried by the tangible sounds of music, by the light and the electrifying air that seemed to gather between you, you drifted. Gently and rhythmically to the sound of the music, one-two-three, one-two-three, you spun and the world swirled around you dissolved into a meaningless background as you sank into the ocean of his eyes. They stared at you incessantly, calm and stormy at once, inviting and dangerous, reflecting the brilliance of the crystals like the surface of the water reflects the stars scattered across the night sky. He smiled and you forgot to breathe again. His hand traveled higher on your back as if he longed to feel you whole, to remove the little distance that dancing had created between you, which he would not allow.

"You trust me?" he whispered quietly. You nodded only to break away from him a moment later, twirl in place, and return straight into his arms.

"What are you doing?" you asked feeling his hand back on your bare skin.

"I'm dancing with you," he smirked then pushed you away from him again, spun you in place and drew you back. The world swirled with colors all over again. One-two-three, the piano gave a rhythm when the violin made you twirl.

"Don't tease," you corrected your hand that landed closer to his neck.

"But when teasing with you comes so easily," he moved his hand dangerously low across your back. A shiver ran down your spine.

"Are you having fun Mister Wayne?" you flicked your eyes surprised.

"I do," he replied with shameless satisfaction, "I believe you do too Miss Y/L/N." He turned and the world swirled again in colors and lights only to return with the warmth of his chest against yours, with the touch of his hand firmly on your back, in a captivating smile. With each passing note, all the pretenses he had kept over the weekend disappeared, escaped with each exchanged breath, faded with each deepening glance.

"I have to admit that this is not quite how I imagined this weekend," you moved your hand up over his shoulder toward the back of his neck.

"And how did you imagine it?" the whisper of his words danced over your skin.

"Less magical…" he released you from his embrace again. You twirled and returned to his arms to finally eliminate the remnants of the space that separated you.

"If you were worried before about them staring then you'd better not look around," he whispered in your ear, pressing his cheek against yours. The scent of his perfume swirled through your senses.

"I won't," you whispered closing your eyes, "they won't ruin my princess moment," a low chuckle sounded deep within his chest.

"Princess moment," the touch of a smile imprinted itself on your skin, "damn…you smell incredible."

"Stop…" you didn't open your eyes, "whatever you are doing, stop." The touch disappeared, the world swirled, the closeness returned, along with the ocean in which you wanted to sink.

"Why should I stop?" a new feeling resonated in his deep husky voice as the ocean stormed with desire.

"I'm a big girl, I don't believe in fairy tales," your mind believed it, but your instinct screamed the opposite, "in a second our dance will be over, the moment will disappear, the gala will come to an end and with the rising sun the fairy tale will vanish with the return of reality."

"Since when are princesses so cynical?"

"Realistic," you corrected him, "and I'm not a princess."

"Cynical," he repeated as his hand wandered up your back again, "what if…"

"What if what?" you asked almost feeling the touch of his lips on yours.

"What if we took that risk…" his words danced on your lips, "what would happen if we…" he didn't finish. The unspoken words died in your breath, faded into touch, turned into a dance of craving lips as the last space separating you disappeared. His kiss deep, yearning, passionate took away the remnants of doubts that only moments ago spoke uncertain words. Beneath your closed eyes, the world ignited with desire as your hand found its place on the back of his neck drawing him closer. Your lips danced on his, your breaths became one as you lost yourself in a magical moment. The world stopped. Reality once again yielded to his will.

*

In the middle of the ballroom, a feeling blossomed in the glimmer of silvery light diffused by hundreds of crystals. He, dressed in a black tuxedo, tall, handsome, charming, known by all. She, dressed in a beautiful black gown, shorter by a head, elegant, graceful, enchanting, known by no one. They, joined in a kiss, suspended in a half-step, between a twirl and a turn, paused in a dance that just a moment ago everyone admired. A feeling they did not want to hide. Desire culminated in a passionate kiss. They indulged in the moment while others watched them intently.

Some, with a heartfelt smile, recalled a time when they themselves were in the same place.

Others with undisguised envy, wishing they could be them.

Others with indignation or amusement, shaking their heads in disbelief at the sight of a scene like this in an elegant society.

Someone muttered words of disdain.

Someone else sighed in delight.

Someone else followed their example.

Dick only took out his phone and discreetly took a picture. Warmth spread through him, a beaming smile lit up his face as he tapped the message in a quick motion. "Capture THIS!" two words, one picture, sent only to two people, Barbara and Alfred. A quickly calculated move directed at the best possible outcome. For one needed a bit of joy, and the other needed a warning of impending chaos in the family. Both, on the other hand, were necessary for him to protect Bruce from self-sabotage.

Dick was happy. For a moment, he too forgot the task, forgot the mission. He lost sight of the goal only for a moment however the moment was enough.

On the opposite side of the room among the guests, Jonathan Crane was also observing the fairytale scene, but there was no jealousy, contempt or mockery in his eyes. There was nothing. Without breaking his dead stare, he took his phone out of his pocket, dialed a number and, after just one beep, gave the command.

"Do it."

Two words, one decision, that's all it took to unleash chaos.

*

Scream. A terrifying female scream tore through the music paralyzing all the guests. But the paralysis didn't last long. A loud thud followed by the sound of shattering glass, cracking wood, the rumble of tumbling tables and chairs, the sounds of panic. People backing away in fear deeper into the room, grasping each other's hands, trying to hide in the crowd. It only took a few seconds for all the magic of the charming evening to shatter into pieces. Bruce instinctively grabbed Y/N's by the hand and, taking a step in front of her, hid it behind him. He scanned the crowd instantly, swept his eyes over the terrified faces, eyes filling with tears, looking for Dick and the source of the danger. One glance, a discreet nod, and Dick disappeared from his sight. The danger did not keep him waiting for long. A mocking, maniacal laughter echoed around the room freezing people's blood in their veins.

"No, no please, don't interrupt yourselves! Musicians play!" with a dancing step Joker entered between the crowd wielding a knife in his hand. Amused Harley Quinn followed him.

"I wanna dance puddin! Let's dance!" she asked playfully jumping from one foot to another.

"Now now, pumpkin, remember what we came here for," Joker waved the knife in Harley's direction in a gesture bordering on threatening, "but we could definitely use some music! Orchestra play!!!" he exclaimed towards the band but none of the musicians picked up their instruments, "no one has respect these days," he muttered to himself.

Bruce followed his steps, every little movement, every slightest gesture. He had no possibility of moving away from the crowd, no way out. Every exit was blocked by a shotgun-wielding henchman. His mind ran through all the scenarios, calculated all the possibilities trying to formulate a plan that didn't exist, while Y/N's warm hand clenched tightly in his own made him realize that there was nothing he could do. He had to wait.

"What do you want!" a man shouted from the crowd.

"Finally! I'm glad you asked!" Joker replied theatrically bowing to the man, "I want the music to play!!!" he shouted and when the answer did not come he pulled out his gun and fired a single, precise shot. The cellist fell inertly to the ground into a growing blood stain. "This is how it's going to be! I will ask the questions and all of you will politely answer," he walked closer to the man, grinding the knife toward his throat, "capiche?" the man only nodded. "Fantastic!!!" he exclaimed gleefully, "then now after we've said our good evenings, can someone tell me where my toxins are!?" He circled the crowd, directing the knife to each person one by one, "anyone? Maybe you can tell me?" he pointed the knife at the director of Gotham Mercy Hospital. "I'm taking a short vacation at my favorite resort and when I return my toxins are gone! Maybe you know something?" he waved the knife in front of the Gotham Diagnostic Laboratories representative's face. No one answered. "Someone among you must know something!" everyone remained silent as they measured themselves against the clown one by one, praying that they wouldn't be the next victim. "Someone took them and is unleashing this wonderful terror on the city and I want to know who!" the scientist from S.T.A.R Labs scowled when Joker ran his hand over her face. "As much as I enjoy seeing Batman failing miserably I can't stand outrageous, disgusting theft!" he continued theatrically gesturing. "Would you agree with me that theft is an outrageous crime?" snapped one of the women who only nodded desperately and tears streamed down her cheeks. "A horrible, horrible crime! And do you know what the best part is?" he asked the people around then aimed his gun at the space and fired. A huge flower vase shattered into pieces and a small metal ball rolled on the ground. The Joker picked it up and, with a grin on his face, pretended to inhale the toxin trapped inside. "This stuff is fantastic! Truly makes you go mad!" he laughed and placed the ball into Gotham University professor, "he must really dislike you guys," he added, grinning, "he wanted to gas you all! Can you imagine?! Outrageous! But not as outrageous as the fact that he stole from me! So, now that I have saved your fragile minds from a trip to the crazy side I expect your cooperation. Who stole my toxins!" he grabbed a Strader Pharmaceuticals board member violently by the jacket, "I'm sure you'll know. Where are my toxins?"

"I don't like him, sweetie. His giving you a stinky eye," Harley measured the man with a disdainful glance.

"He does?" Joker pulled the man closer to him, "are you giving me a stinky eye?"

"No, I'm not, I'm not…" the man replied in a pleading tone.

"Harl, I think you are right!!! He does give me a stinky eye!" the blade shone against the man's face.

Bruce watched everything as if in slow motion while his mind desperately searched for a way to protect the guests. However, cool logic kept his nerves under control. Five exits, five shotguns, the Joker had a knife and a .44 Magnum with 8 rounds magazine capacity, Harley had a baseball bat resting on her shoulder and a Chiappa rhino 60ds by her side, which meant another six bullets.

"I don't like it puddin'! He has no respect!

"You are right pumpkin pie!" Joker pulled a man out of the crowd and threw him against the ground right at Harley's feet, "there, he is all yours!"

He had to stay calm for a little longer. Nightwing will fall through the ceiling window in a moment, followed by Robin and Red Robin. He will have to get out of her sight. He will have to quickly order her to run away, order Nightwing to lead her outside. His suit was hidden in the car. She will look for him. He will have to lie.

"Stop that!" Y/N's hand yanked violently as Crane stepped forward from the crowd, "leave him alone!"

"Why? Do you want me to play with you instead?" Harley let go of the man directing her attention to Crane.

"These people don't know anything, can't you see that?"

"But it's so much fun to see them squirm!" facing Crane Harley crooked her fierce head, "but you ain't scared, ain't ya Doctor Crane?" she placed the baseball bat on the ground and looked defiantly at him, "nah, you like good old scares!"

Y/N's hand yanked again in Bruce's grasp, trying to break free. He turned to her, looked at her but there was no fear or apprehension in her eyes. Only anger.

"There's nothing you can do," he whispered looking at her intensely, "on the opposite wall, in the upper right and left corner you'll see a discreet green blinking light," she followed his words with her eyes, "it's a silent alarm. Someone has set it off. The police is on the way."

"She's my friend," she replied quietly, "she'll listen to me."

"Y/N stay calm," he instructed but the hollow sound of a thump shattered his words. Crane lay curled up on the floor, his head shielded by his hands. Y/N's hand slipped from his. A split second, a moment of distraction, and she ran out into the middle of the room.

"Harley!!! Enough!" she shouted. It was enough to distract them. Harley jumped up happily at the sight of her friend and moved immediately in her direction. But the Joker was first.

"Oh hello, beautiful…" a quiet murmur came from his throat as he approached her, "long time no see. You don't visit, you don't call, I'm hurt! We had so much fun together," he circled her straining his words but she stood unfazed, "it is so good to see you!!!" he smiled widely.

A shadow of movement ran across the glass tiles of the roof. One, then another, and moments after that a third. They will fall with a crash and shattering glass. Batarangs will fly toward the two most distant goons. Robin will attack the other three quickly disarming them. Red will attack Harley. Nightwing will deal with the Joker. Haos will be unleashed. People will start fleeing in panic.

"Harley told me that you refused my invitation," Joker continued reducing the distance separating them, "you made her sad. What kind of friend are you?"

"A friend wouldn't let her boyfriend hold her friend at gunpoint," Y/N growled measuring herself against Joker.

Shadows moved swiftly across the roof. Just a moment more. Every muscle in Bruce tensed to fight, but his mind controlled his actions. He couldn't face the Joker and take away his ability to leave to get the suit. He needed a few minutes, but he couldn't stand by passively. He couldn't watch as the Joker closed the distance between him and Y/N.

"Ha, I like you! You have a fight in you!" Joker exclaimed with amusement only to lower his tone again and grab her violently by the arm, "are you close?" he glared at Crane, "oooh you are. You can't deny it, I can see it in those angry eyes of yours."

Out of the corner of his eye, Bruce noticed a window in the ceiling swinging open. Muscles tensed waiting for the right moment. His eyes watched the Joker's hand clenched on Y/N's shoulder, his body subconsciously assumed a fighting position, ready to react at any moment.

"The rage is burning…" she yanked but Joker grabbed tighter, " curiouser and curiouser…" with a quick movement he corrected his grip placing his hand on the back of her head.

"Interesting company you choose my dear…" he lowered his voice so that only she could hear him, "dangerous…. but you like danger don't you," she tried to break free but he grabbed her face tightly forcing her to look at him. The blade flashed dangerously against her cheek, "yes, you like danger. That feeling when adrenaline burns in your veins making the whole world cover itself in red. That crazy waltz on the edge of life and death," he strained his words, "you're as crazy as I am. All you need is a little push."

A silvery rain of broken glass rained loudly from the ceiling to disappear a moment later in a cloud of thick smoke. A swish cut the air as the Batarangs soared toward their targets. The black and red cape danced nearby knocking the weapon out of Harley's hand, that rolled with a clatter on the ground.

"Push that!" Y/N growled while an invisible force pushed the Joker back a few steps. Through the smoke, she couldn't see his amused look. The screams got lost in his maniacal laughter. His vicious words drowned in a throaty growl as the blue emerging from the smoke kicked him in the stomach.

"Run!" Nightwing shouted in her direction dodging the knife gleaming in the midst of the smoke, "run!!!"

*

For a moment, paralysis overwhelmed you completely as your legs refused to move. You stood there frozen, with your eyes wide open observing the scene. The Joker's purple coat danced amidst the smoke with each aggressive swing, the blade gleaming from the left then from the right as Nightwing nimbly blocked and dodged. The deadly dance cut through clouds of gray smoke but only one of the dancers was the harbinger of death. Fury blazed in Joker's eyes as he unsuccessfully dealt blows. Curses of hatred drowned in the sounds of battle. Watchful eyes glared in your direction beneath the mask that covered part of his face in a mixture of surprise and worry. But you couldn't move, you couldn't stop admiring. As if mesmerized, you watched the agile leaps, accurate strikes, painful hits and soft flips, and only one thought filled your entire mind. "I need to help him."

Strong male hands grabbed your shoulders trying to pull you aside. Intense blue filled with dread shone before your eyes. He shook you gently in an attempt to snap you out of your amok. His lips moved but you couldn't hear his words. His hands tightened on your shoulders but the touch seemed distant.

"I need to do something…" you said than snatched from his grasp and began to run through the dense gray.

Instinct seemed to guide your steps when reality as if seeing your determination, matched your will by creating a path for you. Frightened people fled in terror, but you dodged them swiftly. A Batarang swished past your ear, but you slowed your step just in time to avoid the accidental impact. The light from the shattered chandelier shone through the clouds of smoke, revealing the Joker's weapon at your feet. You bent down to pick it up, evading the black and yellow cloak flying over your head. A voice called out from the distance, loud enough to make you stop for a split second to avoid a massive blow from the staff. You tore through the chaos without fear, without doubt, without hesitation, as your body and mind seemed to sense the impending danger before it came. It seemed to sense its surroundings before your eyes had time to register the image and transmit it to your mind. The thick gray smoke blocked your vision and yet you knew perfectly well that the moment your dress got caught between your legs, you should crouch down, chase away the smoke with your hand, and help him get up.

"Jonathan…" your words sounded close and yet so far away, "Jonathan, are you alright?" Still clenching your hand on the gun, you helped him up. Blood ran in a thin trickle down his face.

"What are you doing? Are you crazy?" he looked at you surprised.

"Can you stand up?"

"Y/N, get out of here! Run!" the green lit up intensely.

"Can you stand up?" you repeated stubbornly, and without waiting for his answer you grabbed his hand and lifted him to his feet, "tell me you're okay."

"I'm fine."

"You're bleeding."

"I'll be fine. Let's get out of here," he grabbed your hand but you didn't move, "Y/N?"

"Go!" you ordered, "I can't. Not yet."

Before he had time to react you rushed deeper into the room while reality shifted again, yet this time to match your will. The smoke thinned, revealing overturned tables, broken glassware, scattered food, spilled glistening stains of fresh blood. Red-blue lights flashed outside the window exposing a distant rush of blond hair. Involuntarily, you tightened your hand on the gun and sped up your run. Harley fell out the door and you followed her. She rushed down the stairs in desperation trying to get away, to no avail. Leaping down several stairs at once, you could clearly see the surprise in her eyes as she turned around to see how close you were. With a grunt, she fell through the next door but you were right behind her.

"Harley stop!!!" you yelled falling behind her into the hallway, "stop!!!"

"Forget it!!!" she yelled back without slowing down.

"Stop!!!" you had her almost at arm's length.

"Or what!"

"Harley!!!" you could see the glistening droplets of sweat on her bare arms.

"Catch me if you can!" she laughed mockingly.

"I said stop!!!" you shouted reaching out your hand towards her. She did not stop. An invisible force pushed her forward with a powerful surge sending her flying through the air. With a deafening crash she fell painfully to the ground.

"Hey, how did you? That hurt!" she cried out, trying to pick herself up from the floor, but it was too late. Not thinking much, you jumped to her, knocking her over onto her back, kneeling over her, pressing her to the floor with your whole body, immobilizing her.

"Hey!!! Get of me!!!" she exclaimed trying to break free, "get of me! Get of me! Get of me!"

"Harleen! Calm down! Listen to me!" you tried.

"Let me go! Let me go or I will!!!

"What will you do Harl!" you grabbed her hands and pressed her to the floor, "What will you do! You fucked me once already! You took advantage of me! You left me to drown! You let that maniac threaten me with a gun!!!" the Joker's gun suddenly ignited in your hand, "with this gun!!!" you shouted furiously putting the gun to Harley's temple. "You let him put it to my forehead, he threatened to splatter my brain all over the windshield…" you pressed the gun harder against her temple, "so tell me, what else are you going to do?"

"It's not like that, puddin' was just joking."

"Stop it! For fuck sake, stop it! Stop this madness! Whatever he told you, whatever he promised you, he's crazy! A psycho!"

"You don't know him like I do!"

"Harley! Do you even hear yourself? He's a murderer and a psychopath!"

"Before you start judging me maybe you should first look at the company you choose for yourself and who you seek help from!!!" she shouted furiously, "my puddin' loves me! He loves me! And when he finds out what you did he will be very very angry with you! He will not like it, not a bit!"

"Batman was right…" you sighed with resignation, "I can't help you."

You lifted yourself heavily from your knees and reached out to her. For a moment you thought you were looking at Harleen, your friend from the best years of your life, the one you could rely on, the one who would never betray you. For a moment, Harleen smiled warmly as she used to do. She reached for your extended hand and for a moment you thought that everything will be alright. You couldn't see the knife flashing from behind her back. She swung sharply and blood flowed from your slashed arm. You jumped back a moment too late.

"See ya sucker!!!" she laughed, jumping to her feet and launching herself into a run.

For a moment you watched her move away. For a moment you thought to even let her. But the moment vanished in an instant, replaced by pain and anger. Red shrouded your vision, rage filled your mind, ignited the blood in your veins, filled your will. A deep inhale that seemed to consume the anger and then an exhale that ripped it out of you releasing the accumulated force outward. The red disappeared. Silence followed. Reality took on normal colors and shapes. Reality stopped bending to your will.

*

Nightwing, Red Robin and Bruce watched as an invisible force appeared out of nowhere, pushing Harley forward only to pick her up in mid-air and slam her against the wall. Harley's lifeless body slid down the wall. Y/N stood in the middle of the hallway, clutching a gun in one hand, she breathed heavily. Neither of them needed to see her face to understand the exhaustion her posture betrayed. She lowered the extended hand only to slump against the wall and sank heavily to the floor.

"What the hell…" Nightwing gasped in disbelief. With a nod, he instructed Robin to check on Harley as he himself moved toward Y/N. Calmly and gently so as not to frighten her, so as not to trigger an instinctive defensive reaction in her. The gun glistened in her hand, damp with sweat and blood running down her cut arm. Out of the corner of her eye he glanced at Bruce who had followed, his face betraying a blend of tension and worry.

"I stopped her…" she whispered when Nightwing entered her line of sight, "I had to stop her. It's all my fault. If it wasn't for me, none of this would have happened."

"She's alive," Robin informed, "only unconscious."

Bruce brushed past Nightwing and crouched by her side. Tears shone in her tired eyes.

"Y/N, it wasn't your fault…" he said softly, "it wasn't your fault."

"Bruce…" a confused glance jumped between Nightwing and Bruce.

"Mister Wayne is a very stubborn man," Nightwing explained, "he ran after you first, pointing us in the right direction. He refused to stay behind."

Without a word, Bruce knelt down, took off his jacket, loosened his bow tie, and took out a white silk handkerchief from his pocket.

"I helped her free the Joker from Arkham," she explained quietly as he pressed the handkerchief to the cut on her arm, "I tried to convince Batman that she was innocent," she continued as he used the tie to stop the bleeding, "I let her escape when they tried to stop her…" his eyes stopped on the gun she was still clutching in her hand. His glance asked without words. "Oh…that…" she sighed as if her consciousness had only now registered the weapon in her hand, "it's Jokers'. I found it as I chased Harley. He must have dropped it…" she deftly turned the gun in her hand directing the grip to Bruce as if she had done it many times in the past, "I would never use it…" she continued handing it back to him, "I just didn't want it lying there. I didn't want him to use it."

Bruce did not take the gun from her. He merely looked at Robin, who quickly took the gun from Y/N's hand, pulled a Ziploc bag from his belt pocket and closed it tightly.

"We need to get you to the medics," Bruce finally said, throwing the jacket over her shoulders and gently lifting her to her feet.

"I'm fine, it's just a mild cut.

"It wasn't a question."

"What about Jonathan?" she asked as he put his arm around her waist as if he feared she would fall down any moment.

"He is fine," he replied shortly, "let's go," he ordered motioning her towards the exit but Robin blocked their way.

"Miss…" he began uncertainly trying to ignore Bruce's menacing stare, "Y/N right?" she looked at him and nodded, "how?" he asked glancing at Harley whose unconscious body lay laid in a safe position nearby.

"I don't know…I just did…" she answered weakly, "what's going to happen to her?"

"She will probably be transported to Arkham," Robin replied.

"Please remind Batman that he promised me."

"What did Batman promise?"

"That he would help her."

***

Chapter twelve: Running toward danger

~~***~~ Author note: I got carried with words. Sorry about that. But I had this idea for this scene, you know which one, but it couldn't happen in isolation. The story needed to happen. Speaking of that scene, a few months back I heard this song, Merry Go Round Of Life Cover By Grissini Project. Within minutes that scene was born. Everything, from the initial setup, through the conversation just before, to the final moments. For the last few months that scene lived in my mind waiting for its time. Waiting for the story to lead our characters into this place. Hoping it will lead them there. And as they finally arrived here, I'll be honest, I was giggling like a teenage girl while writing it. I do hope that it worked for you as well as it did for me. But now, I can finally move away from a keyboard (for now) and go watch Good Omens season 2. At the end, as always my Dear Reader, I thank you for reading.

~~***~~ Tag list: @mrsgrahamsdesign @theclassicvinyldragon @blondwhowrites @batgirlspain @hangmanscoming @julesjewelss36 @cherryflavoredcoke @grandstrangerphantom @maripositanoctruna @pluckastarfromthesky @butterfly-lies-chase-them-away @pirate-with-internet-connection

[onyourowndaisymae]

Hello hello! :00 Could I request prompt #15 with Levi, Belphie, + Dia? Preferably with them being the one(s) saying it, if you can :)) I'm a sucker for works where reader is the comfortER rather than the comfortEE, and they are so hard to find, sob. (Ofc, that isn't to say that all three or any of them HAVE to be angsty!! You get the idea, pfft.)

"please don't go."

the earnest declaration startles you, breaking the string of silence that had existed for hours beforehand. you freeze in your spot. you had just stood up, assuming levi was too consumed by his game, and began to make your exit for the evening. this is how it often went-- you were free to come and go as you please, usually entering or departing with little fanfare. hence why his words surprised you.

you turned back over your shoulder and took a look at him. a good look at him. it's easy to miss the signs of levi's distress, seeing as he's always hiding in his room (and usually only illuminated by the glow of his aquarium and the flashing lights of whatever game he's currently playing). but you know him. you know him better than anyone.

his pallid complexion makes his dark undereyes stand out. the way his fingers wrap around the controller doesn't hide the raw skin around his fingers, pink and irritated from the nervous picking he's clearly been doing. and even the dim lighting can't disguise the dullness in his eyes as the avoid yours.

levi is going through something. you're a little ashamed that you didn't notice sooner, but you know you shouldn't blame yourself. he wouldn't want that. pain comes in waves, insecurity in storms-- his emotions can change in a matter of moments, sorrow piling on top of him only noted by a subtle shift in his expression. you're not a mind reader. what you are, though, is someone who cares. and that's what he needs right now.

you make your way back to the spot next to him, carefully slotting yourself in the chair next to him at his desk. he meets your gaze-- uncertain, almost wary-- and you take his face in your hands. your fingers brush away his bangs so you can press a soft kiss to his forehead.

"i'm right here, levi. i'm not going anywhere."

the attic is almost pitch black at this time of morning. the devildom sky barely shifts during "daylight", but usually streetlamps flicker on during waking hours enough to feel a difference. it's dawn now. the sky is a moody dark gray, clouds hanging low from your view out the attic window.

it's cold. even under all the blankets where you lay, a chill catches your skin and refuses to let go. you threw on a sweatshirt before bed, but even that couldn't protect you from the harsh devildom winter sneaking through the cracks of the house of lamentation. your fragile human body was not made to face this weather.

you peel yourself from under the covers and face the biting, stagnant air in your pajamas. belphie remains under the warmth of the covers. his breathing is soothing, like white noise, and just thinking about it makes you sleepy. but, try as you might, you can't fall back asleep when it's this cold. your body staunchly refuses to rest under these conditions. you pad quietly over to the door, careful to not wake the demon you've left behind. you're too late.

"please don't go." he murmurs against a pillow, so quietly that you almost miss it.

you turn around. it's early enough that his disillusioned mask has yet to set, leaving him vulnerable at the first sign of your absence. you haven't even made it out of the room yet.

"it's cold up here," you reply, the words coming out in a raspy whisper-yell. his only response is to lift the blankets at his side in invitation.

you scurry back into bed, this time tucked into belphie's side, drawn in by the promise of a few more hours of peace before your day begins. one of his arms holds you tight against his body-- he's a furnace, cranking out pleasurable heat you hadn't felt before you attempted to leave-- while the other takes care to pack the blankets in an impenetrable wall around you. you silently wonder if it's for comfort or to prevent you from sneaking off again. probably both.

you cuddle into his warm chest, content now with the conditions for your slumber. his quiet, steady breathing lulls you to sleep. a chill creeps over the devildom, but no longer does it keep you awake.

"i'm just distracting you."

"a welcome distraction!"

"don't you have a really big deadline coming up?"

"sure, but..." diavolo puffs and looks at the piles of paperwork in front of him, before shooting you a hopeful look. "it would be wrong of me to neglect a guest."

he's trying to use you to get out of his paperwork. with as responsible as he usually is, it always catches you off guard to see him so desperately try to avoid his duties as future king. it would be cute, of course, if you didn't know how this dance went: soon enough, babratos would be here to see you off, insisting you let lord diavolo get back to work. some days you'd linger around the demon lord's castle, spending the afternoon by the butler's side and sampling his impressive tea selection.

"i should really get home, mammon told me he wanted--"

"please don't go."

his tone is sobering. for once, he's not asking, but begging for you not to go. he doesn't have to be on his knees to get the point across-- one look from those big, earnest, endlessly sincere eyes of his and you understand.

it's not often that he gets to be selfish in this way. as much as diavolo wants you around the castle, lounging your free days away by his side, he knows the demon brothers are just as possessive over your time. he treasures every visit you make to see him. yet, it never feels like enough. today it all spills out from inside his chest, three words and a pleading look conveying a deeper sense of loneliness than you ever thought such a joyous person could hold.

you take another look back at the door before plopping yourself into a chair at the desk, opposite from him, and smiling.

"i'm sure i could play secretary for a few hours," you decide, and the high-beam grin he gives you makes it all worth it.

two angsty-er hurt/comfort scenarios and a fluff coming right up :)

reminder that this event is still open and accepting requests! there are still 12 unused prompts remaining, so feel free to drop a request in my ask box!

[500 follower event masterlist] // [obey me masterlist]

[jungle-angel]

I need 8 with Rhett PLEASE like reader and Rhett take their 7 year old Son truck or treating and Reader is dressed up too or just something like that please

OH MY GOD YES!!!! Honey you have no idea how badly I've been wanting to do a trick-or-treat prompt!! (lol).

Tatum and Tanner Abbott raced ahead of the both of you with Amy and Hannah not far behind, screaming and excited beyond words at finally being able to go trick-or-treating on Halloween night.

"HEY GHOULS!!!! DON'T RUN ACROSS THE STREET!!!!!" Rhett shouted after them before they could run into a crosswalk.

"It's ok there's no cars coming and it's a red light," you told him.

"I-darlin don't even get me started," Rhett warned. "I saw those two little varmits run head first into a mound of cow shit and I'm not gonna spend Halloween scraping them off the road with a spatula."

You laughed a little bit, unable to help yourself even as Kaya, the newest edition to your family, wriggled a little in your arms. Your four month old giggled like crazy, her lopsided smile the same as her father's.

The kids eagerly climbed the stairs to the Wabang Police Precinct where Joy and a few other officers were handing out candy from the buckets. "TRICK OR TREAT!!!" they called out happily.

"Jeez we've got the whole Abbott crew tonight," Joy chuckled.

"Yeah I know, that's what scares me Joy," Rhett told her.

"And look at you and (y/n)," Joy half laughed. "Indiana Jones and Marian Ravenwood. Now I've seen everything."

You laughed as Rhett rolled his eyes and Kaya made a noise. The ghouls managed to get their pick of the bucket before heading off to the next place. The apartment complex was probably the most fun with residence dropping candy into the bags from upstairs balconies and windows and the kids making a game of it.

"You ever remember doing this as a kid?" you asked him.

"Oh hell yeah," Rhett said with a big grin. "Dad used to take me, Wes, Rip, Kayce and Beth all the time and this was the kinda shit we'd see at the apartment buildings."

You watched the sight before you, smiling at how much fun the kids were having before they came running back with their newly claimed hoard.

"I got a popcorn ball!" Amy exclaimed happily.

"I got three cookies!" Hannah chirped.

"I got a fudge bar!" Tanner yelled.

"I got a rock!" Tatum proclaimed.

Rhett couldn't stop laughing. Tatum's Luke Skywalker costume had been one of the best, but he still found it funny that the kid had been grateful for receiving a rock in his trick-or-treat bag.

Off you went again with the kids ahead of you, amazed at how heavy their bags and buckets had become, full of chocolate bars, peanut butter cups, cookies, gum, jawbreakers, jolly ranchers, almond joys, kit-kats, sour patch kids, twix bars, m+ms and a whole hoard of different candies that you and Rhett were sure to have a good time raiding the next day.

Finally it was home for the ghouls, you, Rhett and the kids all pulling up the driveway to the house and getting ready for the Halloween party that Royal and Cecelia threw every year. The kids had all gathered in the living room, well away from the grown-ups, dumping out their bags and buckets on the carpet and trading them amongst themselves while the grown-ups kept to themselves in the other room.

"Happy Halloween darlin," Rhett said, leaning in to kiss you.

"Happy Halloween Grumpy," you laughed, eagerly returning your husband's kiss.