#made this last night as the first set from my project to gif those we are scenes i loved but didn't gif while it was airing

[sherrymagic]

WE ARE | EPISODE 16

[starlightsuffered]

Be Professional (The End)

Warning - Smut, oral (male and female receiving), unprotected sex, breaking machinery, no more cocky timo

I had been avoiding Timothée like the plague since his little confession. I was trying desperately to work out my feelings. I missed the sex, a lot, however, I also found, I missed him.

I missed his stupid guffaw of a laugh. I missed the way he actually said interesting things in interviews. I missed his jokes, even if most of them annoyed me. Why did I feel like this? I was supposed to hate him. He was a rival, a rival that was good at fucking, but I wasn't supposed to fall. Arg the stupid idiot had confused me so much ! didn't know what made sense anymore.

My friend was unhelpful as shit. She suggested giving him an apology blow job and just start dating him. I couldn't do that.

Timothée had been different since that night. He was no longer jovial and cheeky, he was solemn and serious.

He used to be so social, almost over the top social. He now preferred to eat in his trailer instead of with us. He was gone the moment he was allowed to be. He didn't talk unless directly spoken to, and he only smiled if he knew it would be a bad look to frown. He was......Professional.

How had I had such an affect on him? After all, I was some nobody. He'd literally asked why I was on this project at all.

It was one of the last days of our press tour, and we were walking in silence back to the hotel. These were the times I hated the most. The director always sent us back to the hotel together, hoping to ramp up excitement for the movie by our picture being taken together. It was always an awkward and silent journey. He never even looked my way.

We got into the elevator, and he pressed the number for our floor. The elevator ran smoothly for a second then it shuddered. I grabbed out to Timothée without thinking as lights flickered. We came to a slamming halt. The doors opened an inch, but there was solid wall peeking between them. A red emergency light was all that lit the area, washing us in scarlet. The elevator was stuck.

"What the hell," I said worriedly as I pressed the button for our floor over and over.

"I don't think that's going to work," Timothée said.

"Would you shut up," I ground out. I looked at my phone, of course, no signal.

"We'll probably have to wait it out. I pressed the emergency button," he said calmly. I gave him a look of wonderment.

"Why aren't you freaking out?" I demanded, and he shrugged.

"Urrrg you are so irritating," | snapped.

"

"Maybe I am, but this time you can't fuck me about it, so maybe we should talk like adults," Timothée retorted.

"Adults?" I demanded. "Now you want to be adults? You were the one always acting like a goof ball on set, you were the one always touching me and winding me up, and you're the one who initiated the whole sex thing in the first place. So don't tell me I need to act like an adult!"

"Did you ever consider why I did those things?" He asked, running a hand through his curls in frustration.

"Because you're an asshole celebrity who can get away with anything?"

"Because I fucking liked you," he said as though it were obvious.

"You what?" I asked softly.

"I was yours from the second you walked up to me and yelled at me," he confessed, and my back thudded against the wall as I took in the information. "I wasn't even asking the director what you thought | was. I was asking if you had any history in the industry because I know your first movie can be scary. I was trying to see how I could help you."

"You were?" | asked.

"Yes, but then you thought was a jerk and you weren't backing down. The only way I could get your attention was to rile you up."

"Timothée, stop," | said, feeling too much pressure building in me.

卩

"No, I won't, I want to be with you y/n, I want to spoil you, and fuck you, nicely, and kiss you, and not worry about who sees hickeys on our necks because they know we're crazy about each other. Why are you so afraid of this?"

"Because you're you," I whispered, eyes squeezed shut.

"What does that mean?" He asked.

"You are the Timothée Chalamet. You were in Dune, Willy Wonka, Little Women, Call Me By Your Name, fucking game changing movies!"

"So you do know some of my movies," he chuckled. I opened my eyes and looked at him. His eyes were large and pleading, his curls awry from his fidgety hands. He was so beautiful it nearly hurt.

"I don't want people to say I fucked my way to the top. I've worked too hard for this. That's why you always annoyed me so much. One wrong move and I could lose my dream forever. You could do anything you wanted and they wouldn't care. Even if you had been telling the director that he made a bad casting decision, it wouldn't matter, you'd still be there the next day."

I couldn't look at his fallen expression anymore so I sunk to the floor and talked to it instead.

"You piss me off because I wasn't supposed to like you this much. I was also being unprofessional because I knew I wanted you. I've never had feelings this strong, good or bad, in my entire life, and they're all attached to you. It scares the shit out of me."

He was sliding down to the floor too. He took my hands in his and my lip trembled. He was holding me so gently.

He had never held me gently like this before.

"I have crazy strong feelings for you too, and I really don't want to ignore them. However, I one hundred percent get where you're coming from. It'll be hard, but I'll back off if you say this isn't a sacrifice you can make for me."

I looked up into his eyes. They were mixed with equal parts hope and dread. I wanted to give him hope, but could I?

Just then the doors shut. The lights flickered back on and we were moving. He helped me up as we finally got to our floor. We were greeted by a team of workers who were all apologies. I could barely take it all in, it was sensory overload after what had just happened. Timothée turned on the charm and led us through the crowd.

Finally, we were at our doors. Timothée turned to me, I still hadn't given him an answer. Would I be okay leaving things here? I pictured my life after this moment. I'd cry myself to sleep, wake up the next day and try not to look at or think about Timothée. Then we'd go out separate ways. I wouldn't see him again. I wouldn't hold him again, wouldn't hear one of his cheesy jokes again, wouldn't kiss him again, would never have him inside me again. Could I do it?

"Do you have your room key?" he said.

"Yes," | replied, turning towards him.

"Well are you going to go into your room?" He asked.

"No."

"Why?" He breathed.

"I'll tell you why Chalamet," | said with a wild grin. I saw his eyes sparkle with hope.

"Why?" He asked again.

"Because you," I said, walking to him and placing my hands on his chest. "Are the best l've ever had, and also, totally worth it."

His smile nearly split his face in two as he grabbed my face to kiss me. I was beaming into the kiss. He broke it off with a joyous laugh, and picked me up and spun me around. I was laughing now too, heart full and content.

He struggled with the door because he wouldn't stop kissing me for even a moment. When we got in the room he carried me to the bed. His lips must have connected with every part of my bare skin. I was sighing with happiness as I felt my boys lips. MY boy.

"Come here you," I said pulling his face to mine for a long kiss.

"I'm obsessed with you," he said earnestly.

"Same here," | beamed back.

"First things first," he said and his lips went to my neck. He sucked the skin into his mouth. His hands went under my shirt to brush as my nipples as he suckled. I moaned.

"There we go," he said smiling at his work.

"Does it look good?" I asked, pretending to pose with my neck exposed.

"Almost as beautiful as you" he said, and my stomach flipped at the words. I bit my lip, and he leaned down to kiss me. The kiss was slow and passionate. I did take his lip between my teeth, but it was a gentle nibble, opposed to the harsh teeth I'd used to use on him.

He sat up and took off his shirt. I let my hands lovingly caress his abdomen. His eyes fluttered shut.

"Do you know how long l've wanted you to touch me like this," he asked in a near whisper.

"Too long," | answered, and he nodded. He began to unbutton my shirt. He was moving carefully, as if scared I'd run away from him. I wasn't going anywhere. He got my shirt off and kissed my stomach.

"You have got to be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he said. He unlatched my bra and threw it to the ground. He took a second to look at me before he was flattening his tongue against my nipples.

"Oh, Timothée," I sighed.

"That's it," he said. "That's how I wanted to hear you say my name this whole time."

"My Timothée," | breathed, as he began to work on my nipples again.

I felt him undo the button of my pants. I helped him get them off me. He kissed his way down my body, and took my underwear in his mouth. He dragged them down as I watched him avidly.

"I'm going to worship your pussy," he promised as he dove in. He lapped between my folds. I grabbed his curls, and he moaned into me. I didn't pull as hard as I normally did, just enough to please him.

"Fuck, right there, so good," | moaned as his tongue circled my clit before landing on it. His licks were long and loving, and the way he gripped my thighs with a gentle strength made me weak. Sure I liked being marked up, but l liked this better.

"I'm so close," | admitted. He switched up the direction of his tongue and I curled my toes. I panted as he continued. Finally, I was calling his name as I came undone.

Timothée's head emerged, face shiny with my juices, and a smile on his face.

"I always wanted to ask if you really feel as good as you sound?" He said.

"Yes, absolutely, you are a God with that tongue of yours," I said.

"Well, it's only for you," he winked.

"Better be," I said. "Now please take off your pants."

"Eager are we?" He chuckled.

"Yes, I'm addicted to your cock," I said, it was my turn to wink as I brought up his old words.

"That whole cocky thing was an act. My heart was going a mile a minute hoping you wouldn't think I was repulsive. It seemed like it was the only way you'd interact with me, so I put it on."

"That is adorable," | said truthfully. "But I wasn't lying, I am addicted."

"Fuck," Timothée said with a shudder.

He quickly took off his pants, his cock springing from his boxers. I knew he hadn't intended for me to help him, but I moved fast. My mouth was around his length in seconds.

"Ugh, baby," he groaned, and the pet name spurred me on. I bobbed my head, taking all of him I could into my throat.

"Fuck, so good, so good," he panted.

"Stop," he said, pulling me off. "I need to cum inside you, please."

"Absolutely," | agreed, and pulled him down on me. He kissed me long and hard before lining himself up with

me.

"You ready?" He asked, I bit my lip and nodded. He pushed into me.

"Merde," Timothée cursed, head dipping into my neck as pleasure over took him.

"You feel so good," I told him. He began to thrust. It wasn't fast, but it was deep and powerful, each movement hitting me in my sweet spot.

"Ah, ah," I moaned. "Fuck, Timothée, you're so good, you're so pretty, you fuck me so well."

I was whining, making the sounds l'd always wanted to make for him before. He seemed to be loving my vocalness. He was kissing me heatedly, as he swallowed my whimpers.

He reached down to knead my breasts as he fucked me. He was hitting me so deep it seemed impossible.

"I'm so close," He told me.

"Me too," I whined.

"Look at me when you come please," he begged. I could only nod, completely lost to pleasure as he his hips snapped forward. I locked my legs around his waist, wanting him deeper. I wanted to be one with him.

"Oh, Timothée, I'm gonna come," I moaned and I looked into his eyes as the best orgasm l'd ever experienced washed over me. Wave after wave of bliss was hitting me, so that I was nearly convulsing as I called his name. He came soon after me, cumming ropes of cum inside me, keeping his eyes on mine.

"I think I'm falling in love with you," he confessed as he pressed his forehead against mine.

"You're not the only one Chalamet," I teased.

After hours of talking, I fell asleep in Timothée's arms. I was awoken by the ring of my phone. It was our director.

Timmy's eyes opened groggily as I answered. He smiled sweetly at me.

"Hello?" | croaked.

"You guys did it haha, the story about you two getting stuck in an elevator is everywhere!" He cheered.

"Yes, well, we make quite the team," I said smiling at Timothée. Then I hung up so I could kiss my boyfriend.

[r0ttenhearts]

Friends? Part III

Scaramouche x Best Friend! Reader

the summer passed by in the blink of an eye and scaramouche couldn’t dread it more. haypasia had gone back to her university in sumeru while he stayed in inazuma, wishing to be anywhere but there. and with the first few days of the new school year he found himself utterly alone. your usual seat next to him was empty as you had decided to sit as far away from him as possible in the few classes the both of you shared.

he stared at the back of your head longingly as class trudged on. a part of him wished he had never said those words to you that day. he missed the way the both of you would walk to campus together, cracking jokes during class and sharing notes. when you were with him it hadn’t been as.. unbearable.

his tough demeanor was cracking and he detested himself for it.

he hated the way he would see you laugh with xiao, the way you’d banter with childe. he hated it, wishing it could’ve been him instead.

but luckily for him, you two had gotten paired together for the group project. he could feel your glare as you explained to him how the work would be divided, treating it as individual projects but put together as the two of you would have to present it.

“do you want to come over so we can work on it together?” he could see you tense as you bit your lip, feeling relief as you slowly nodded.

walking side by side, the both of you made it to his house. you could feel your stomach churning with anxiety as you remembered your last time being here. scaramouche set up your papers and laptop in his living room, passing you a bottle of your favorite drink as he sat next to you on the floor. soft typing and scribbling on paper was all he could hear as you focused on your research.

“so, uhm, what do you think about irminsul? do you think it’s real?”

you scoffed, closing your laptop shut as you faced him. “of course it’s real. the stories of the lesser god and former god of Sumeru have to be real. there’s no way it isn’t.. if i had the power to see it, i think i’d erase my existence from the memories of those i’ve met.” you smile sadly to yourself as you recount those endless nights you spent alone, beating your fist into your mattress as you screamed until your throat was raw.

“i think i’d wish for that too.”

you looked at him and noticed a sad expression across his, as much as you hated to admit it, flawless features. he felt the same pain you felt? but what about his so called lover haypasia?

“that’s not true scara, i’m sure you would want miss haypasia to forget you.”

scaramouche shook his head, suddenly taking your hands in his as he spoke. “no.. i wouldn’t mind being forgotten by her. but i would mind if you forgot me.”

your eyes widened as his hands tightened his grip on yours. his almost quiet, shy demeanor was unrecognizable to the boy who had shouted how much he didn���t care for you only a few feet away, just a few months ago.

“do you mean that?” you asked quietly. he nodded as he pulled you close to him, holding you against his chest.

“i mean it y/n.. i’ve missed you so much it felt like i couldn’t breathe. i know i was a dick to you and i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.”

he holds you closer to him as you slowly wrap your arms around him. you stay like that in his embrace for a few moments before he pulls away, gently kissing your forehead. “i didn’t mean to push you away. it should’ve always been you.”

you nodded slowly. “don’t do that to me again. you don’t know how hard it was to be apart. it felt like a part of me was missing.”

“then let’s never be apart y/n.”

“promise?”

“i promise.”

taglist: @swivy123 @mochiyux @angelofdarkness2 @pwisoned @magica-ren @dr8amy @goodsoup101

[prettyyoungandbored]

Christmas - Johnny Knoxville

Pairing: Johnny Knoxville x Fem!Reader (goes by “Babydoll”)

Author’s Note: I almost didn’t write this so happy holidays!

NOT MY GIF

The first Christmas in Johnny and Y/N’s relationship was celebrated the weekend before the couple went to their respective families.

The year after that, Johnny and Y/N decided to do Christmas in LA as Johnny was in the middle of filming another project and only had a couple weeks off.

Y/N sipped her coffee while curled up on the couch. She admired the small-ish Christmas tree in the corner of their living room. The two took advantage of one of the nights Johnny had off to decorate it.

“I’m actually glad we went with the red and green ornaments,” Y/N said, as she hung another round ornament on a stem. “They go well with the lights.”

Johnny cracked a smile. “Those goddamn lights were gonna be the end of me.”

She peeked over at him from the other side of the tree. “My love, you did a fantastic job with the lights.”

He made a face. “You’re just lucky I love you.”

He took a step back, setting down the empty box that the ornaments had been in. “Now this is a Christmas tree.”

Y/N walked over to him, standing right beside him. He was right. Between the lights and the ornaments, their Christmas tree was perfect. The only thing missing were presents underneath that were just begging to be unwrapped.

“I love it,” Y/N said. “It’s perfect.”

Johnny swung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in for a kiss on the lips. “It’s our family tree.”

Our family tree. Three words that made her look at the tree differently than before.

Every time she looked at the tree she began to imagine decorating the tree with their future kids while they all drank hot chocolate.

She imagined wrapping presents with Johnny on Christmas Eve night while the kids slept. It’s that very fantasy playing over her head as she stared at it on this Christmas Eve.

“Babydoll, what’re you doing up?”

She glanced over to see Johnny walking toward her, rubbing his sleepy face.

“I just like admiring our tree,” she responded.

Johnny plopped on the couch beside her, reaching behind him to grab the folded blanket on top of the couch. He laid it out between the two of them.

“It’s the Clapp-L/N Family Tree,” he said. “Eventually, it’s gonna be the Clapp Family Tree.”

Her eyebrows shot up playfully. “It is, huh?”

“Oh yeah,” he nodded, throwing an arm around her. “Just you wait.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder as he kissed the top of her head.

=====================================

8 YEARS LATER….

“And that was the last of them,” Y/N exhaled as she pushed the final wrapped present toward the slightly overwhelming pile of presents.

“One last step, Babydoll,” Johnny said, holding a plate of the cookies left for “Santa” two hours earlier.

“Ooh, my favorite part,” Y/N said, plopping down on the couch.

He plopped on the couch beside her. They each grabbed a chocolate chip cookie and clinked them like champagne glasses before taking a bite.

“We did good this year,” Johnny said, throwing an arm around Y/N. “The kids are gonna flip.”

“Wyat absolutely will,” Y/N chuckled. “June may be slightly overwhelmed at first, but she’ll get into it.”

She paused eyeing the presents. “We may have gone a little overboard.”

“They were really good this year,” Johnny shrugged. “They deserve it.”

Y/N smiled at him. “We do have some pretty awesome kids.”

“That’s cause their parents are pretty awesome themselves,” he reminded her, kissing her forehead.

She snuggled into him some more as she admired the Clapp Family Tree, decorated the same as they first did all those years ago.

[amity-moonrise]

Really important announcement, please read.

Contents: last formal post about our ex and also stuff regarding the future of this blog, brief mentions of abuse but nothing descriptive, mentions of grooming

had a flashback get triggered because of a name that someone used online that just happened to be a name that I associated with the drama with my shitty ex and my actions

I only now realized that he groomed us. He manipulated us and kept us in the dark and we took in his toxicity and his behaviors and unknowingly projected those same behaviors to other people and hurt them.

I thought maybe I could find closure after he was exposed but after realizing that he’s left so much of himself and his actions behind onto us, I started to feel like I was a part of him instead of a separate human being. I felt sick, I felt alone, I couldn’t really talk to anyone because of the consequences of our ex deliberately alienating us from everyone. I thought that I was just as bad as him after I unknowingly went too far with an old friend of mine.

It didn’t help that this happened right after I got rejected hard from my previous fp weeks before. I was in such a low during the summer it was horrible.

But I realize that if I really want to move on I need to acknowledge the fact that I am not him. I am not Stylus. I am not this abusive, manipulative, sadistic man that hurts people. I am not someone who enjoys watching people suffer or watch disturbing graphic content like him. I am not someone who physically abuses people. I am not my abuser.

I have to acknowledge that and unlearn everything I ever learned from him. I had to unlearn and untrust everything he said about DID to me and what it is and listen to survivors and research and make my own decisions and opinions about what I believe in. I have to eradicate or grow distant to the things he left behind with me, gifts he gave me, the name of our system (we came up with a system name because of him), the memories of the system server i first ever joined and soon left after feeling extremely uncomfortable in there, the polaroid photo of him in it, his face, his abandoned tumblr, childhood memories of him and I, anything he gave or pushed onto us knowingly or unknowingly.

I now realize truly the extent of my own trauma from him. Though his grooming wasn’t sexual, he set us up for disaster and isolation. He made sure that I would ultimately be left alone had I gone against him. That I only went to him and him only.

I reached out to an old friend of mine (the person who even called out our ex publicly with the full truth) and I wont lie, I was scared to even send that text saying hi. I had already made mistakes and hurt people because my actions reminded those people of Stylus and I was terrified that this friend wouldn’t want to talk to me again. I was worried that my mere existence to everyone who was involved in this drama is just “Stylus’ childhood friend”, a creation he later abandoned and let loose to cause havoc.

But I was replied with a nice response, leading to a peaceful conversation (though it was short because I sent the text late at night 😭). I wasn’t unfriended, I wasn’t blocked, I wasn’t yelled at or told to never speak to them again, none of that. It made me realize that all that fear I still carried was for nothing. Sure it still will bug me for a while in the back of my head but ultimately, I am free. I am just me, and this friend is just a friend, who is super nice and super talented and is very awesome imo. Sure we may have met through the same shitty person but I don’t have to let that define how I want my friendships to work.

I have made mistakes and lost friendships, obviously I can’t take that back, but the least I can do is separate myself from Stylus all together and focus on the friendships that I can maintain now.

This may be the last time I talk about my ex formally (might mention him here and there, maybe roast the shit out of him even, idk stuff happens), and this also means that I am going to have to rebrand. I came to Tumblr because of Stylus, but leaving it is not the option. I formed such a wonderful community here and made so many system friends who are actually caring and supportive of us. The best I can do is a rebrand. We have been wanting to rebrand but didnt think it was necessary till now. We will keep the post format the same (i love yellow and space and stars but will change up the profile stuff), but we will definitely change our system name to something different, something that is us and not him.

But we need your help, the community. We have been trying to think of name ideas and we are at a loss rn. If anyone has any ideas, anything, please share. We would prefer if the name had SOME relevance to our profile aesthetic (or even just related to stuff we like such as yellow, witchcraft, astronomy, fantasy, faries, stars, etc), but we are open to suggestions.

When the rebrand here is complete we will update our sideblogs with the accurate information and slowly change our online identity into something of our own.

That’s really all we have to say right now, everything is now out there. If you haven’t read the call out posts about my ex, you can read them, theres info on my pinned about it, but I will warn you that there is triggering content due to the nature of the situation (it’s why I am not recommending you to read it, just saying you can since its out there)

Anyway, other than that, thats all we have to say.. I am really tired and should sleep now. But thanks a lot for sticking around and we hope you stick around longer for more tomfoolery and sillies in the future!

Yours truly,

Silas and the rest of formally Starfall System ✨🌟💫

[ask-missparker]

I Remember It All Too Well..

SpiderMan Far From Home

Setting: Phase 3– Post Endgame

Continuing this post

~

Pairing: Quinten Beck x Amelia M. Parker

~~~

Take a break she says, it’ll be fun she says..

Nothing on the schedule said anything about being dragged into SHIELD work, taking care of a bunch of teenagers and seeing in person you haven’t talked to in years…

It was late at night.

Most of the students and teachers were at the hotel probably asleep, and here stood Amelia taking a walk, scouting the sights for the trip. As well as snapping pictures for Fury.

She wasn’t even technically working for Fury anymore and yet, she was still be given orders by her old boss. Hill wasn’t even far behind.

And what made it worse than Fury’s orders, was the man that was supposedly working with them on this new project.

Beck.

She swear that moment she heard his name and saw his face, she froze. His hair was longer than she thought, his built was carved out within a green silk suit, and the polished attuned ways of talking to them.

Every word he uttered could’ve easily been a lie.

But then again, she wasn’t seen him in years. Hell, they didn’t really know too much about one another, as their relationship only lasted a few short months.

She wish she could just—

“Didn’t expect to see you here at this timely hour?”

She whipped her head around to notice him floating down from the steps and catching up to her feet quickly enough. He took that moment to study her features, her hair was darker, her facial expression were more angular than her softer appearance years before, and her eyes still spoke the same tone of the day they first held hands.

Beck couldn’t resist the sudden thought of the moment he stupidly broke her heart. He broke up with the girl over a text message and kept her scarf from the very first week, as it seemed like innocence, but smelled like her.

Everything felt like a blur now.

Each bad moment seemed like a thousand words different from the good.

Blurry lines and blurry images came into play as he watched her eyes scan his very own.

“Is this the part where you tell me that you were wrong and I was right? That you shouldn’t have stood there clueless when I walked in.” Amelia responded ever so softly and shrugged.

He sighed as a small scoff came under his lips, “I had no clue you were coming here. I didn’t even want you to get in involved with any of this.”

“A little too late…”

“Yeah, right, I didn’t want anyone in there to suspect that we had something going on beforehand. So I had to act stupid, sorry.”

“Alright. I guess that’s fair…you look, good.”

“I feel good…you um, you look like you haven’t aged a day. Still the same pretty face I met all those years ago.”

She scoffed as a light smile brushed against her face, “Flattery will get you nowhere, Beck.”

“Eh, had to try to make up for earlier.” He replied, smiling, as he declared that he’ll follow beside on this walk.

“…you don’t have to walk with me. I can handle myself.”

“I know. But I want to. I want to…apologize for everything.”

“Hmm how so?”

“I wasn’t sure what I had until I lost you twice..I wished that I was good enough to realize it.”

“Tell me more, tell me something I don’t know…”

“I was upset, confused and frustrated…I wasn’t appreciative of you, how you treated me so well…”

“We both had issues..I’m sorry if I offended you any further than I did, especially when we fought..”

“And I forgive you for it.”

The two smiled and nodded.

“You remember how much you would waste my time?” He said softly chuckled.

She looked at him lightly chuckling, “We wasted it right. I would take you out for coffee and you would cuddle with me at the cafe.”

“Then I would take us to my place for computer sessions, securing models for my new ideas…and I would’ve ordered us some burgers…I miss those days..I wished I told you that before..”

“Then time went on, we got busy, we would fight..I thought…I just wished you cared a little more, where you could stayed longer...I got tired waiting for us to move forward or do something else..”

“But you liked it…coming over to my place when nobody was home, find me coding or working on a new invention..we would just stay a while on the floor working…”

“Yeah..”

“You know, I did want us to eventually move forward, do something bigger…I wanted to buy us a bigger space..i had a gift for you too..”

That struck a chord with Amelia.

“A gift?” She asked, looking over her shoulder at his tall frame.

He half smiled, “I had a bracelet...I was planning on giving to you some time that summer..but I broke it off..”

“Why did you?”

“Hm?”

“Why did you break off with me? Over text? I tried calling but you never answered.”

“I just wasn’t in the right place at the time…work was hard, we were both very busy…I just wasn’t thinking straight.”

“And you weren’t even honest enough to tell me more about you..”

“The being from another earth thing..yeah, I was gonna tell you soon. But it never came up.”

“Which I don’t believe is fully true and neither is the power thing. But I will go along with whatever it is that you’re saying.”

The two just looked at each other, staring into one another’s eyes as if searching for answers…

—

———

Ahh that’s all folks! Let me know what you think 💭

TAGS: @blueboirick @rickb-chaos @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre @ask-starrk @meiramel @gcthvile @cherrysft @wizzzardofoz @luna-d-marsh

[mythgrippa-blog]

Another morning

Alright, where do I start. Perhaps with the app I've been working on with my team. Alright, where do I start with that... think think think...

I'm the technical lead for university year long project (its actually 6 months, so I don't know why they would call it a year project) and its essentially a capstone project for my computer science degree.

My team is composed of 5 people, including myself and 4 of those members I've been in another terminal war simulator C++ project with last year and the other member I've met and teamed up with this year.

When we first decided to team up, I didn't want to be group leader again because I'm simply not a leader! Its way too much pressure having to manage people and making sure everyone is doing their work, and in hindsight I still think someone else in my group should have been a leader because I don't like these responsibilities! I'm a techie, an introvert! PICKING ME TO BE A LEADER?!?!? ARE YOU INSANE??

But nobody else wanted and I hate how everyone thought I was just playing hard to get, bro I'm simply not like that! But alas I gave in since no one bothered to step up, the only leadership quality I think I have is my refusal to fail and my clear sight to a goal. And also my ability to go beyond my limits even if detrimental to my mental health

So, what was the project that I've someone ended up as a leader for? Well, the project was an event photo sharing app and our client was a software engineer from a popular tech company in my country.

We met up with them, discussed ideas for the project, tried my best to encourage my team for the most grueling 5-6 months of their lives and got to work!

Being a project manager/leader is super hard like oh my goodness, I had to make sure there were constant meetings and that we followed scrum agile framework, it was really hard managing because getting people to do work is not one of my skill sets, I've always been a solo leveler but now I have to tell others what to do. Its hard to enforce accountability for work not done when your members are also friends.

What I wanted for my team is for them to have fun, learn something that can make them more valuable in the long run and ultimately build something they're proud of. Those are the values I tried for but its very hard if nobody listens to me and it feels like a chore to them.

My role was mostly technical leading as in most of the technical decisions were made by me, and also technical support as in if you ran into an issue come to me and I'll help or lead you to someone who can help, and I was also DevOps as in I built the whole CI/CD pipeline for our project with automatic builds, tests and deployments (I've never done this before so I had to learn and learn a lot of github actions), I was also sort of doing full stack (backend/service engineer and integration engineer and ui engineer) and also involved in training an AI model which in the end didn't work but we found a nice python solution. As you can imagine, I was having a lot on my plate? more like table and all had to be done

The team focused towards the 4 demos we had, each demo was a sort of deliverable where we had to have a certain percentage of the app requirements done. It was exhausting work, I had to work so many nights and give up weeks of holidays and recess to get it done, I started eating more and sleeping less, moving less, always on my computer, coding and designing, day in day out, sacrificing family time to make progress for the sake of the project, why? because I don't want to fail, it was no longer for sake of making the best app in the world, somewhere down the line of development it was no longer for the fun of it, it was for survival. This felt like a Herculean challenge, as if I was Sisyphus or something, it was all I could think about. I thought this project would finally be the time I enjoy myself but it ended with me having to rush to meet deadlines. Pushing myself to the very limit.

I won't lie, I was starting to feel hate inside my heart because I was burning myself out. Before the project began, one of the assistant lecturers mentioned that the projects will be tough and that it may ruin friendships, I didn't think much of it but now I'm just shook at my team. Not because deadlines weren't being met but because I was being ignored, I felt like I was being an inconvenience, like I was just taking time away from them and when the demo was getting closer and then all so suddenly they look at me like why things weren't finished. I'm sorry but we have deadlines for a reason!!! And now we have to do crunch time and I look like a bad guy.

But those feelings so mostly dissipated in our 4th demo because that was it, our supposed final demo, at least where the app is supposed to be at 100% complete. We finished all of the required features and tried adding extra, and what was the result? Well you can go and see for yourself

This is what we were presenting, the presentation went alright, better than the first 3 but I wasn't satisfied because there were some features I wanted to add but couldn't since we had to make sure the parts we did have were working. We were presenting to our lecturers, not the module lecturers but lecturers for the whole computer science degree, so we were a bit shaky.

The presentation went alright, two of my members have a dynamic, one of my engineers had a Steve Jobs like talent and the other was a quick learner and were very good at hiding their fears. The lecturers asked us questions, there's something I noticed about these questions... they were ignited by our presentation, but thats something for later. The questions were essentially based on what they taught us in the last couple of years since the degree began in first year and as final years were we able to apply what they taught us.

We were able to answer most of the questions with confidence, however one of my lecturers wasn't happy with our implementation of microservices. But other than that, it wasn't anything major, we did our best. And now we can stop working on the project.

There's a fifth demo in case our 4th demo didn't go well, meaning that we have to make improvements to the app, but we haven't got the results yet. In the mean time, we are focusing on our other modules.

Well I think I've said enough about the project. I'll write more later on what I'm going to do with this new free time because its crazy how much free time we have without this project. I am happy my team was able to push themselves, I've always wanted to be part of a development team where we all code and eat pizza together while working on the app. Discussing ideas with each member and how they should be implemented. This experience was valuable and I don't believe it would have been possible if I wasn't the group leader or with these lovable goof balls.

I do have anger issues, but the normal amount of anger, you know when your buttons get pressed so much, I was the only technical support! I felt like an overworked gateway service! Oh my goosh I was just mad. But hey, there's a good and bad to this, all you need to know I won't be doing any more group leaderly stuff hopefully and I'm not going to be involved in software development for a while and I'm retiring. Its off to cybersecurity now.

I'll let you know how the results are, but my next post will come out shortly

[joe--avila]

.

"I had a friend who got a camera when we were kids, as a Christmas gift. He became the neighborhood photographer for all the weddings, baptisms, communions, confirmations, birthdays and quinceañeras," Joe said, chin resting on his hand, thinking back to that time. "It's an important job, being a photographer. They document things, they make sure history can be revisited..." He had some coffee and thought about it. A friend of Reba, the last one she had left, had given her a little Polaroid when they were packing to leave New York. The photos they had taken during that long trip were still saved in a shoebox in the wardrobe, gathering dust.

"Their movies? Of course, they're good. I'm not a particularly big movie fan, but everything they do –and they do everything –it has so much care and effort..." Joe smiled. He knew Boris had always been very creative, and each time they brought a new tape with their latest finished project to the living room to show it off, it made him and Reba hugely proud. They hadn't been that happy at first, though, when their kid was just starting out and it was all very much trial and error, with piles of garbage brought from the junkyard for set design and long hours of repetitive sound editing going on deep into the night.

"Jesus... You were lucky if you didn't know how evil kids could get," Joe said with a sigh. He hadn't had trouble with others when he was a child –he had known, even back then, how to make the best to blend in –but his younger brothers and cousins didn't always know the right things to say, or their interests weren't like those of the other boys... If he hadn't been reasonably popular, and tall enough to intimidate a couple of the more notable bullies, Joe had a feeling some of the Ávila boys might have been the target of a lot more aggressions, the type that he used to witness other children being often subjected to. "I'm sorry. About those nasty kids, and about her mom," he said quietly. "Being a single parent is no easy task... My mother had the help of her family to raise me and my brothers, when my father left. If she hadn't had that... I really don't know how she might have managed." She had always taught her boys the importance of community and gratitude. These were lessons that would never leave him, as long as he lived.

Joe had a sip of his coffee and gave Dimi a short look. It rather surprised him, how easy it was to talk to him. He tried not to talk too much about himself –but when the other man asked questions, and when he told him details of his own life, the words just seemed to pour out freely. "Cardinal Hill's no heaven on Earth, but there's definitely a reason we set roots here. We saw a lot of places –none were as welcoming and warm as this one. It just, you know, it seemed like the best place to build a home." He shot him a small smile. "Hope you and your kid can get used to calling it home, too."

As he listened to Joe talk about Boris, Dimi smiled because yeah, it seemed like the youngster had been a bit of trouble, but in a mostly harmless way apart from the fights. "Oh my God, I'd be so terrified of them starting a fire or something while experimenting with special effects," Dimi replied, laughing a little; he could imagine Joe had gone through some stress at that time. "That's really cool that they make movies though. I experimented with that, but photography is more my thing it turns out. That's what I do, I'm a photographer. I always respected people who had more of an eye for that kind of thing. Were the movies any good?" He wondered if Boris had ever let Joe see any of their work; Dimi himself hadn't shown anyone some of his early photography. Joe continued to tell Dimi about Boris's youth, and Dimi laughed again. "Really? I mean, at least their heart was in the right place," he remarked when Joe talked about the opossum incident. But he wasn't laughing when Joe got to the part about the fights. "Isn't that one of the worst parts of parenting?" Dimi replied somberly. "You want to protect them from everything, to fight their battles for them, but realistically you just can't always protect them, and that's a hard pill to swallow. And besides, if you do everything for them, they'll never learn to do things for themselves."

Dimi thought about how he was with Ozma, sighing. "I'm still working on that myself though." He'd moved them all the way from Minnesota to protect her, after all. Dimi told Joe, "Ozma was having a hard time at school. These girls found out her mom left, and they were making fun of her, really cruel things, like how she wasn't enough for her mom to stay. I didn't know kids could be so heartless." As he spoke about this, Dimi clenched his fist; the thought still infuriated him. "And she was always coming home from school upset. We didn't really have anything keeping us there, and this was a better place for us, so here we are." At least Dimi hoped it would be better; so far it had been.

[queers-gambit]

High Noon

prompt: the tournament begins, and plans for a funeral looms

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 10k+

warnings: cursing, more non-specific smut, author projecting her loneliness, violence, more but wonky brain shut down!

previous: part one: Midnight Calls

next: part three: Darkening Hour

The morning was still, quiet, rigid with tension after the previous night's fiasco. Mary had come to your door early, finding you already sat before your vanity, pulling a hair brush through your locks. Your handmaiden kept quiet and selected a gorgeous gown from your chest, but then paused, and pulled a different one out.

The colors of the first dress was that akin to your husband's House, but the new dress was the darkest of coal in color with red threading along the bodice. Mary turned to show you the dress, cocking her head, "You've not worn this one before, Lady... Perhaps today is a good day to wear it?"

Your lips quirked in amusement, head cocking some as you focused on the mirror before you. "Those are interesting colors, Mary," you mentioned casually, "surely, that is pure coincidence?"

Mary looked to your chamber door and darted towards it, only pausing to toss the dress onto your freshly made bed, and shut the door firmly. She turned with her back to the wood, finding you twisting in your seat to face her, "Surely, you must have something to tell me of last night, my Lady?"

"What makes you think that?" You wondered.

"You met with the Prince," she rolled her eyes lightly, moving towards your body to turn you again towards the mirror. "What happened? Oh, please, Lady, you know the gossip in the castle is only half-truth, and I would never get to experience something like this."

You sighed gently, "Nothing happened, Mary, we only met and..."

"And?"

Your shoulders shrugged meekly, "And he told me of his Lady-wife's passing, I offered my condolences, and he wondered if I would support him in the tournament. I told him that it would be a great scandal in the court if I supported him, and not my husband."

Mary rolled her eyes, "Your husband's always been a pig, Lady, I am sorry." You nodded in agreement before silence befell the two of you, then, an idea came across your mind.

"Mary?" You prompted.

"Hmm?"

"In a perfect world, who would you choose?" You wondered, watching her through the mirror as she started to intricately braid your hair.

"From the courts?"

"Sure," you sighed.

"Hmm, well, Ser Harwin Strong is... Mhmmm," She hummed, nodding, making you both giggle. "And of course, there's a few others..." She went on to name a few names, before rolling her eyes, "Yes, yes... And I do suppose Prince Daemon is handsome, and brave... And strong, and handsome, and talented, and rebellious, yet so very charming, and cunning with a reputation that precedes him, and he's handsome, too..."

You laughed, "Think he's handsome, do you?"

"Perhaps a bit," she teased, winking back at you. "Though... I do know who I would marry if the Gods permitted it."

"Oh?" You perked up, grinning at her in wonder. "Are you going to tell me who it is, my friend, or let me be the only one sharing secrets?"

She sighed lightly, "His name's Edwin."

"Where did you meet?"

"He's a stablehand," she admitted, shrugging some. "Met through work, if you will. He's handsome... The third son of one of the blacksmiths, and doesn't truly keep up with his family, I suppose."

"Hmm," you considered. "And how does he feel of your family?"

She was one of ten siblings. Oh, her mother was a saint.

"Yes, well, in truth, he loves them," Mary breathed, "and my parents adore him."

"Then what's the issue?" You asked gently. "Why not court him properly?"

She shrugged, "He is... Courting another... Well - it is complicated, my Lady, and I am unsure of how it makes me feel."

"Who else is he courting?"

"The Lady Deena."

"No!" You gasped.

"I know!" She whined. "Their father's set it up, but Edwin does not wish to enter service, for he is talented as a smith, but he loves horses more and likes what he does now. He's truly a humble man - but it's put delay on their betrothal."

"And now you've fallen in love with him, oh, Mary," You sighed. "Would you point him out to me? I wish to put a face with the name."

"Of course," she nodded, already dressed for the tournament after agreeing to be your escort as your husband was competing. "And Lady Deena has been boasting about her seats for the tournament. Edwin's going to compete..."

"We need to make you a token, so you can give it to him! Oh the look on the Lady Deena's face!" you gasped lightly as you shook your head, looking around your room. "Okay, I'll make you one if you do those braids I like?"

"The thick ones?"

"Please," you nodded, your maid agreeing; and leaving you sat in the chair for another hour (or longer) with a woven favor in your lap as Mary tucked, twisted, and braided your hair.

Your make-up was perfected after, and then, you decided to wear the beautiful black dress. Just as Mary was lacing the corset, there was a knock at the door. "Enter," You called, revealing another maid. "Yes?"

"From the Prince, my Lady," she presented a sheet of suede; laying it on the table, and bowing out of the room as if in fear. Her eyes had never lifted from the floor, and you wondered what abuse the servants in the castle usually endured.

You made a mental note to ask Daemon about it later.

"What's that?" Mary wondered as your heels clicked over the floors to reach the small table holding a pitcher of wine and a few books; pulling the suede flap up to reveal the most beautiful sight.

A strand of thick rubies that were posed as a choker necklace, making it look like the jewels would drip off your neck. There was a pair of matching ruby earrings, with another matching ruby ring; complimenting your choice of dress perfectly.

"Gods," Mary swore when she saw the jewels. "Those are a pretty thing, hey?"

"Beautiful, I'd say," you complimented, petting the sparkling gems intimately. "Would it add insult to wear? I would be wearing Targaryen colors, Mary..."

"No, you look ravishing in this," she assured, gesturing to your dress, "that I do not think anyone would interpret this as betrayal. And the jewels?" She tutted lightly, "I would think the Prince be offended to find you not wearing them, Lady."

"I fear you might be right," you admitted, trying to fight your smile. "Would you put it on?"

"Of course," she agreed, taking up the necklace with gentle hands. She latched it on as you fixed the earrings into your piercings, slipping the ring on you right ring ringer; opposite the wedding band you wore for your husband. "Gods be good," Mary nodded, stepping back to admire you. "You look incredible, my Lady. Honestly - I am finding the words hard, you look... Just wow," she nodded, clasping her hands together. "How you have grown into a stunning young woman. No wonder the Prince is so smitten."

You sighed lightly, "Oh, Mary - "

"No, my Lady, you just look breathtaking," she nodded, waving her hands frantically. "Oh, enough of that from me, you don't need an old woman telling you how beautiful you are." She sighed almost sadly, nodding, "Just wish your mother could see you now."

Your smile faded slowly, "Might I be honest a moment?"

"Of course."

"Since I left home and came here, you've been more mother than I've known before," you admitted. "And your praise means everything to me, so, please, don't hold back," you both giggled lightly.

"Come," she nodded, fixing a portion of your necklace. "The joust is to start soon, and I do believe our men are competing - both of yours, I do mean."

"Hush," You nodded with a smile, and took one last look at yourself in the mirror, the jewelry making you look and feel powerful - as if cloaked in Daemon's sigil, and his protection. Mary's arm looped around yours as you departed down the halls of the Red Keep; pushing out of the doors, and joining a stream of other royals heading for the tournament grounds.

You both held your woven favors in your hands and found your seats easily; giggling lightly and pointing to different things. Ser Harwin Strong passed by and paused to bid you both a good day, kissing the back of your hand, and even taking the seat beside you to mumble to you and Mary about the happenings in the sandy arena.

In an interesting turn of events, your husband was announced against the Rogue Prince - and your heart stalled in your chest as your hand blindly slapped Mary's thigh. Concern spiked as your husband boisterously rode into the arena on a brown horse, the crowds weakly cheering for the fattening knight, but then muttering in confusion when he approached the side of the stands you were not on, and accepted the favor of another Lady.

"Oh," Mary whispered, eyes wide; glancing at you with nervousness.

Harwin cleared his throat, "A simple curtesy, I'm sure."

"Hmm," You hummed, nodded as if it did not sting to witness. The Lady across the stand was Lady Regina - who had a renowned reputation of wrecking homes. She bit her lip and stood at the railing, watching your husband like he was prey, and you understood why. The only appeal of your husband was the location of his home as it was strategic, and a great host to farmlands.

He also commanded some 3,000 soldiers that he had pledged to the crown...

Your marriage was great in the sense that he left you alone, but all of his wives had died... And for the first time, you questioned how. "Ser Strong?" You mumbled, making the knight lean in some. "Might I ask you something?"

Prince Daemon was announced, the crowds cheering harder as Harwin agreed.

"How did my husband's first three wives come to pass?"

Mary leaned in to listen as the knight cleared his throat nervously. "Naturally, my Lady," he nodded, Daemon galloping around the arena in his dragon-suited armor.

"Do not lie, Ser," you demanded. "Tell me truthfully."

"Truthfully - it was all presented as natural," he lowered his voice. "But there are those who like to whisper that your husband... Might've tampered with their fate. There was never any proof, and once he married you, he has had no reason to be rid of you..."

Your lungs shuddered, "How, my good Ser?"

Harwin nodded, Daemon's horse pulling into a high-stepping trot while the high noon's sun beamed over you all. "The first turned septic after their second daughter was born. The second was lost on a hunt to freezing temperatures..."

"And the third?" You asked, lifting your chin to feign passiveness; eyes scanning the arena.

"Birthed two sons, and then fell headfirst into the river," Harwin answered, your eyes finding his. "He found them all, and there were never any witnesses."

"My Lady," A new voice called, making all three of you look up to discover Daemon Targaryen keeping his horse in a halt at the fence, but his eyes were drinking you in with a knowing smirk on his lips.

Not waiting to be told twice, you stood dutifully, and descended the wooden steps to the fence. "My Prince," you greeted softly, eyes raking over him in his dark armor.

"Would you honor me, my Lady? As your husband foolishly hasn't?" He smirked deeper, presenting his lance forward towards you.

Your lungs exhaled as you dropped your favor through the pole, his smirk never dimming in radiance. "Good luck, my Dragon," you whispered in Valyrian, sending him a soft smile as his smirk turned into a full-on grin. "And thank you," your hand shot up to pet over the rubies decorating your neck, flashing the ruby ring you wore.

He nodded, "They look ravishing on you - better than I imagined."

Worried for his public compliments, you nodded, "It's an honor to wear such a gift. I'll pray for a swift victory, my Prince."

He nodded, "My Lady."

Daemon backed his horse up two steps before turning and spurring him forward to reach the Targaryen side of the arena. You turned for your seat and the moment your bottom landed, the flag was waving, and both men were charging at one another at full speed. Each strike of their lances made you flinch as your husband's husk made him heavier, and a lot harder to unhorse; yet Prince Daemon's blows continued to land without yield.

Understanding he would face difficulty trying to unhorse his opponent, Daemon changed tactics; and the next lance was jolted into the ground before your husband's horse, sending them both careening into the sand. You gasped, standing in alarm with Mary and Ser Harwin as Daemon whipped his horse around with a menacing glare.

"SWORD!" Your husband roared, making the crowds cheer. "SWORD, NOW!" The three of you rushed for the fence, your hands taking the posts in a bruising grip as Daemon easily swung off his horse.

Two squires rushed into the arena. One presented your husband with his family's sword, the other taking hold of Daemon's horse, and holding the scabbard of Dark Sister.

Daemon revealed the Valyrian Steel blade, and you swore you saw your husband tremble in his armor. But he could not back down now, and took the first lunge with a wild battle cry. Each clang of metal made you flinch, watching with unblinking eyes as the two knights swung fatally at one another.

Their feet danced over the sands, and you heard only a portion of their conversation. The Prince had growled with hacking swings, "You never deserved her!"

Two swords continued to swing and hack at each other, until, the Prince of the City had more than enough of the fat knight before him, and with his teeth bared in a snarl, drove his sword through a weak-spot in your husband's armor. Daemon lowered his mouth to his ear, assuring with a hiss, "When I pull this blade free, you'll die within a minute. But you'll feel every ounce of pain as I flood your lungs, and know, this is all you deserve for what you did to her." He drove the sword an inch deeper, "You'll rot for what you've done, but fear not, for she is mine again, and will never know pain again."

Daemon yanked Dark Sister free, and the man stumbled to his knees; hand desperately trying to hold the spurting wound as the Lady Regina screamed from the other stands, and rushed into the arena to hold your husband as he died. You had firm belief that this was why nobody pitied the dead knight, why nobody reprimanded Daemon. It was a tournament, after all, and men died in all of them - and when your husband's consort rushed to him in your stead, they felt no sympathy for him. You were always viewed as a prize, even after your marriage marked you as 'taken'.

Your breathing slowed as time stilled when your husband hit the ground in the arms of the woman he chose over you. Not like you cared much, but something burned in your gut and left you feeling ashamed and embarrassed. It did not last long as Daemon was nearing where you still stood, nodding in respect.

"My condolences, my Lady," he panted lightly. "I will have his funeral transport arranged."

You swallowed, and with the eyes of the city on you, forced a nod, "That would be... Most gracious, my Prince."

He nodded again and turned to stalk out of the arena, leaving you, Mary, and Ser Harwin to watch Lady Regina sob loudly over your dead husband. Her dress was weighed heavy with his blood, and two more squires rushed out to pulled the body away. Your throat cleared and you felt at a loss, looking at Mary to whisper, "What the hell just happened?"

Her tone matched yours, "Prince Daemon just killed your husband."

Your head nodded, "Hmm... Thought so, means I'm not dreaming."

"Come," she pulled you by the hand. "We should go, get you out of here."

"What of Edwin?"

"It matters not - "

"No, we will watch," you insisted; glancing around as you stoically reclaimed your seats. Two more knights were presented, and it was like everyone forgot they witnessed a man die as the excitement of the tournament trumped any discomfort over the public murder of your husband. Your hands wrung nervously and time passed, your only salvation being that you got to see Mary bestow Edwin with her favor - and not the Lady Deena, who looked far too put out for the public eye.

And Edwin won his match, unhorsing his opponent!

It was a grand affair, and as you left the stands finally, a messenger found you and presented you a scroll. It was an official death certificate signed by the King, citing the natural causality of the tournament as the nature of his death. You nodded and showed Mary, parting ways as you were required to decide what to do with his body.

An hour later, you were stood above his sheeted-body; glaring at his pale, swollen face, and cursing his name under your breath. After you were allowed 'to say goodbye', you signed off on his transport home, where he was to be laid in his family's crypt, and his eldest son would inherit the title 'Lord'.

After deciding to return with the body, still set on playing your part as dutiful widow, you were given rest for the night as you'd embark on your journey 'home' tomorrow. The festivities would continue for the week, and you would miss it, but you were unsure of your standing in court now. Sure, Daemon promised to marry you - but you did not know where you would live now. Your husband's children were not overly fond of you that you did not know how welcomed you'd be, and returning to the Red Keep after the funeral felt wrong.

Worriment weighed your heart to your feet, and for the first time, you let the tears fall. Servants bowed out of your way as your emotion was tangible, pushing into your bedchamber before slamming the door, and panting against it.

No, you were not grieving your lying, cheating husband, but the public did not need to know that you were actually relieved about it. No, you were mourning the idea of Prince Daemon because surely it would be easy for him to go back on his word now.

You were confused, and scared, and while you had dreamt of your husband's demise before, the reality of it felt crushing. Would you return to your parents? Could you stay where your husband was Lord? Did you return to the Red Keep? What were you to do?

Feeling suffocated, you swiftly tore through the room and packed anything your hands touched. You were drowning in panic and sorrow that you missed the knock at your door; Daemon entering to find you shoving dresses into a trunk - rubies still latched around your neck.

"Dove?" He asked slowly, watching you jump in shock. His hands rose in peace, "What're you doing, pretty girl?"

"What am I doing? I'm packing, Daemon, what does it look like!?" You snipped, voice rattling from tears and mucus; hands shaking.

"All right," he nodded, "but why, dove?"

"Because I am to return my husband's body to his family's crypt!"

"Mhm? And then?"

"And then - I have no idea!" You shook your head. "Where I go after, I am not sure - I do not know what I am to do right now, I have never been a widow before."

Daemon's head cocked and his brows furrowed, stepping into your room, and shutting the door for privacy, "What're you talking about? You will return here - "

"Why? So, I might bury my husband, and return to court as a sign of my single hand? So that others might try to court me? That is a desperate look, my Prince - "

"No," he stepped forward, hands still held out calmly, "you would return here as my guest."

"Oh, because that's better!"

"Sweetheart," he spoke patiently, taking the clothing from your hands to set aside, "listen to me, you are thinking too much. You cannot remain anywhere but here - "

"Why?"

"Because I can protect you here," he nodded, reaching for your cheek. "You think I would abandon you?"

"You did once before..."

"And I am not the same man," he promised, leaning in to nuzzle his nose into your cheek. "I am not leaving you in this. I... I have spoken to my brother, my dove."

"What?" You gasped, stepping closer to press into his chest and look up at him. "About what?"

"About what is to happen," he assured gently, petting over your jaw and chin. "He has agreed to invite you back under his name to avoid any gossip, and when the time is right, announce our engagement with his full support and blessing."

"Daemon - "

"You forget, my dove, he is my older brother," he smirked down at you; gently cradling you to him. "He remembers us, and who we were before. He has agreed to give his blessing when the time is right, for none will go against his word."

Your brain felt like it was short circuiting, "Y-You did that for us?"

It made him chuckle, "Yes, dove. I was serious when I said I wanted you for the rest of my life. I know you are scared, I know you are unsure about what is to pass, so, listen to me. I will give you till the end of next month to settle his affairs, and if you are not back by then, I will come retrieve you myself with Caraxes."

"Why don't you come get me at the end of this month?"

He smiled lightly, "Gods, I was hoping you'd say that."

"Yeah?"

His nose nuzzled yours, "Yes, my dove. You will return and burry your husband, settle his estate, and I will come get you. You will be a guest of my brother, King Viserys, and in six months," he teased lightly, "we will announce our engagement - and I will not waste time in marrying you."

You nodded, "I do not need a feast, my love, only you."

He chuckled, "You say that as if I would not spare an expense to celebrate you."

"I know you wouldn't," you breathed, feeling a little more at ease. "You make this sound as if it's easy."

"It will be," he assured. "And when we are saying our vows, I promise, this will be worth it."

Your hand flattened to pet over his chest, "If you are so confident, I will not doubt you, my Dragon."

"So pack, dear, sweet Lady," he mumbled, "because I will have your things moved tomorrow."

"Might I ask where?"

"Wouldn't you rather be surprised?" He teased lightly.

"Or perhaps I would like to ensure you are remaining within respectable bounds," you answered, smiling when his lips finally descended to press against yours. He hummed, hand cradling your jaw and cheek now; letting your tongue sweep across his.

"My Lady is not acting very respectable now," he smirked, pressing his lips against your lips in hurried kisses; but his grin assured you that he was only jesting.

"You do not make me act very respectable, my Prince," you breathed, licking over his lips after. "But I am set for a long day tomorrow. It would take us a week to reach - "

"Sh," Daemon's head shook, resting his forehead on yours. "Worry not, my dove. I am here only to aid you. What might you need? How could I help?"

You smiled lightly and stood still, relishing in his warmth while his hands splayed across your back, and rubbed up and down. "I suppose I could finish packing my things," you finally mumbled, cheek pressed to his breast, and your arms tight around his ribs to anchor him against you.

Daemon nodded and turned to pour you both goblets of wine when you let go (after a few more kisses), making your heart skip a beat when he domestically began to help you pack. He joked lightly and folded clothes messily, letting you show him the 'proper' way; storing your belongings for his easier transport tomorrow. By the end, the pitcher of wine was dry, and you were both left in bed with sleepy eyes and nightwear.

Your hand traced patterns over his bare chest while one of his hands held your waist, and the other held the elbow of your bent arm. "I did not congratulate you on your victory, my Prince," you mentioned quietly, the only sounds of the room being that of a crackling fire from the end of your bed. "A well-fought battle."

He hummed and his lips pressed to your forehead, "Thank you, dove. I must say, it was a sweet victory."

"Oh?" You smiled lightly, and his hand tightened on your waist.

"How could I not? Look at my prize," he praised.

"Might I make a request?" You wondered in a whisper, lifting your gaze to his; lips ghosting over his jaw for you to press a few slow, soft kisses.

"Anything," he agreed, just as soft.

"When we are married, you would still compliment me as you do now. I do not tire hearing it."

Daemon chuckled, "Oh, my sweet princess, you are going to be spoiled in my affection, do not worry over that."

"Promises, promises."

"Hmm," he nodded, "I see - you do not believe words, but action. Very well, my dove, you will see," his eyes fluttered tiredly as his lips found your forehead again. "Might grow tired of the way I worship you."

"Never," You promised, just as tired. He sighed sleepily against your forehead, and the pair of you drifted off to sleep; finally content with the person sharing your bed and body heat.

At some point in the night, you both had shifted so that you faced the open window and Daemon's chest was snug against your back with his one arm stretched out under your head, and his other, coiled tightly around your waist. His nose had burrowed into the junction of your neck and shoulder, and it's where he woke up.

Well, you both woke due to a midnight, drunken duel taking place nosily in the courtyard beneath your window; his arm subtly constricting to alert you he was awake.

"Do you want me to close the window?" You asked in a hoarse whisper, eyes still closed.

Daemon's breathing shifted some, a kiss being pressed to the skin of your neck, "'S all right, dove. Air feels nice."

You nodded and settled again, subtly smirking when his hand pulled up your stomach and palmed your bare breast under the tunic you wore - one that smelled of his sweat and blood and overall natural scent. He felt your breathing deepen, licking the shell of your ear in a slow, upward motion, and humming, "Sorry, cold hands."

"Mhm," you mumbled, reaching a hand back and up to pet over his neck and cheek; then lowering it again. But your breathing shifted again when his thumb and pointer finger gently pinched and rolled your nipple, almost forcing your back to arch lightly as you whined. "Daemon," you breathed, sleep slowly escaping your body. "'S late, my love - uh!" You moaned when he pinched sharper, mouth opening against your shoulder while pushing his hips up into yours.

"Shh, my darling girl," he spoke quietly in your ear, palming your breast again as his new focus became thrusting his hardening cock into the swell of your ass. "You are leaving me for the rest of the month," he groaned, "and I will be without you, unjustly. You can lay there if you desire, I just need to feel you, my dove."

You chuckled lowly, grinding back against him, "You have gone this long without me, my Dragon."

"Which was too long to start with, and now that I've had a taste," he groaned, "I do not wish to go without. But I promise you," he shifted so the arm under you was curled at an angel to toy with your tit, and the other dropped to your hip to help guide your motions, "this will be the only time we are apart, my love. I will never be without you again - and you will not know my absence."

Tears prickled your eyes, "Do you swear it?"

His tongue flattened against your neck, making your head jut to the side for his better access; grinding sharply into you, "I swear it, my love. Fuck," he moaned, sniffing into your neck, "my wife."

"Not yet," you teased breathlessly, the hand on your hip moving to gather the long tunic and pull up to free your bare bottom.

"Soon," he promised, snaking his hand along your hips to push between your legs. You gasp and let your leg move back to hook over his hips, his groan of approval assuring you it was the right move as his hand curled to push his fingers into you deeply.

"Daemon," you moaned as if in heat.

"I will not taste you yet," he purred, biting the tip of your ear and making you jolt. "But I will fill your cunt with my seed," his finger increased, "and leave you with my memory. I would spend tonight in you, my dove."

"Please," you whined, a hand over his to encourage the grip he had on your tit, as the other reached back to keep his face and mouth close to your flushing flesh. Your hand contracted over his, making it roughly paw at your breast; voice breathless, "My Dragon, do not tease me longer."

Daemon panted from behind you, both hands dropping to free his hips of trousers; stroking his throbbing member only a few times while lifting your leg. "Remember, dove..."

"You've got me," you finished, nodding as one hand lined himself up and the other held your leg; plunging into you at this new angle, and making you both cry out with unfiltered ecstasy. "Daemon, oh, my Gods," you praised, head tossed back to his shoulder as he grunted against your ear; settling himself in position.

One arm shot under your body to hold you in place; hand able to twist to rub at your clit, as his other hand coiled around you, laid between your breasts, to clamp around your throat in a hold.

You had heard other ladies mumbling about being 'fucked into bliss', and didn't understand until now. Daemon kept your body in position to allow his hips to piston into your own, balls slapping noisily, and teeth bared to let a few mangled grunts escape.

Your mouth felt like it was broken and could only hang open, turned slightly into the pillows beneath you both. Daemon was flooded with pleasure, muttering sweet, dirty nothings in your ear; warning you he was close, and fingering your clit. As you released around him, his praise was voiced like a sure stream - just as sure as his cum filled you to the brim, slightly leaking from around him and wetting the crack of your ass.

"Fuck," you begged with a pant, his breath fanning over the skin of your shoulders. When you shifted, he grunted lightly but seized your hips to anchor you in place.

"No, dove," he whispered, still behind you, "let me stay."

"I was not disinviting you from my bed, Daemon," you jested.

"Hmm, that is good," he smirked, landing a single kiss to your shoulder. "But I meant let my cock stay - buried in this sweet cunt. Just for the night, my dove."

His vulgar words made you shudder some, "Daemon..."

"I will leave you in the morning," he promised, "and have the tea sent. But for now," he stifled another groan, "let me stay, my pretty princess."

"How could I say no?" You smirked.

"That was the point," he grinned, chuckling lightly as you both shifted some for comfort. "Sleep, my love," he whispered, letting you twitch a little before settling. As you drifted off, your mind conjured would-be situations you might find yourself in with Daemon once you marry, pending if you could keep this affair hidden for a respectable amount of time.

Three weeks after your arrival to your husband's estate, you were finally done aiding in settling the estate and bringing his eldest son into his Lordship, and you were so fucking ready to head back to Kings Landing.

Lucky for you, as you had finished breakfast that morning, someone was shouting from the outside, "DRAGON!"

You gasped and nearly tripped over your own feet to rush for the windows, catching just a glimpse of Caraxes gliding through the air to land outside the stronghold's territory. You had dressed in black as a symbol of mourning, but something in your gut stirred with the idea of wearing the color to represent your new married name.

With as much calmness as you could muster, you met your step-son (who was only a few years younger than you) in the court room, and waited. Being as you were 'Lady' of the estate, he had trusted you to help him learn the ropes, and while he was technically on his own now, he still liked having your ear.

The doors of the court room opened, and the Prince Daemon surged through the doors with a (familiar) knowing smirk.

"Lord," your step-son greeted.

You leaned towards his ear, "That's Prince Daemon, love, he's addressed as 'Your Grace'."

"Oh," he nodded, eyes widening in embarrassment; but Daemon only smirked and clasped his hands in front of him as he came to a halt before the new Lord. "My most sincere apologies, my Prince, I uh... I have never met Royalty, I did not know."

"No apologies necessary, my Lord, you have offended no one on your quest for knowledge," Daemon smoothly assured.

"To what might we owe this unexpected pleasure?" You had taught the new Lord to be dutiful and polite, to always ask how he might offer aid before making any assumptions for anyone's arrival.

Daemon lifted his chin, "Much like she has done here, my brother requests the Lady of the House to return to King's Landing, where she might aid in tutoring the King's son."

"Oh," your step-son's eyes widened, and your hand laid over his clutching the arm rest of his seat. "Yo-You are being summoned, step-mother."

You internally cringed at the term. "Yes... So it would appear."

"We cannot reject the King, no matter how I wish for you to stay," he sighed, nodding. "Right, we will offer the dragon three sheep for his long journey," he nodded to a guard, "and tonight, we will feast. On the morrow, we will see you off," he nodded to you now.

"With respect?" Daemon took a step forward. "The King has sent me on my dragon to ensure the lady's swift and safe arrival back into the city. The sheep are appreciated, but not necessary," his hands waved your step-son's offering off.

You lifted your chin and spoke the lad's name. He turned to you, eyes almost hopeful - but you would not be offering any now. "Come to court this season, and I will sponsor you," you spoke quietly. "Only for the season, and if you do not find a wife, come for the next. The dynasty of your family now lies on your shoulders, love, and you will be expected to produce heirs."

He nodded, "Father mentioned it before..."

"He wasn't wrong," you nodded softly. "So, I will go with the Prince now and report to the King, and in three months, you will be a guest of the city and partake in the courts."

"My first time," he mumbled nervously.

"Ah," you sighed, "think not of it, for you will be with me."

"Thank you," he smiled with gratefulness. "Who would watch here?"

You smiled, "Who would you trust?"

Your step-son paused, "Maester Arwyn?"

"A good choice, love," your lips pulled with pride. "And court is only a season long, you will return soon."

"Hopefully married."

"Hopefully," you teased, standing from your seat. "With your leave, Lord?"

He nodded, "Of course, yes. Yes, you should pack - come, Prince Daemon, let me show you the grounds while the Lady makes herself ready."

"A splendid idea," you praised as Daemon smirked.

"I agree, I've never seen what your town's to offer," Daemon smirked, turning to follow your step-son; shooting you a smirk and wink over his shoulder, and leaving you alone.

The moment the doors clanged shut, you took a sobering breath, and tried to remind yourself it was real - and in five months, you'd call that man husband.

You were shameless in your rapid packing, most of your desired objects already in the Red Keep. Daemon was lead on a total tour of the stronghold, and you met the pair where Caraxes was waiting - Daemon making introductions, as your step-son nearly quivered in fear of the scaly beast.

You were quiet as you approached, not daring to interrupt the moment. Daemon beamed in mischief as he caught sight of you, backing up to wrap his arm around you, and after an assuring glance to make sure your step-son's eyes were still 100% on Caraxes, leaned in to press a searing kiss to your lips.

In his native tongue, Daemon whispered, "I've missed you, my sweet princess."

"I've missed you more," you whispered in reply, words drowned out by Caraxes' deep breathing. "Making friends?" you asked a little louder, in the common tongue, directing it at your step-son's back; pushing Daemon's hands away with a teasing smirk.

"He's incredible..."

"Isn't he?" You agreed, coming to his side; spying his hand still flat on the reddish scales. "You all right?" You whispered, spying the tears shining.

"Just... Mesmerized, I'm okay, promise," He assured you. "This is incredible."

"When you come to court, I will show you the Dragon Pit," Daemon nodded, clapping the lad on the shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"Course."

"Thank you, Your Grace," the lad nodded, beaming in glee and excitement. "Oh, you are packed already," he noticed your rucksacks. "I suppose you are ready to depart, then?"

You sighed, "I will write - and you can write me."

"And I'll see you in three months..."

"You will," you sighed, pulling him in for a tight hug. Smoothing over his hair, you paused to give him an affection squeeze - press a quick kiss to his forehead - and release him. "You're gonna be fine," you whispered.

He nodded and turned to Daemon, bidding the Prince a goodbye, safe travels, and promising to take him up on his offers. Daemon smirked and watched him walk away before leading you to the other side of his dragon. "Nice lad," he complimented, pushing your rucksacks from your shoulders. "Bit young, no?"

"He'll learn," you panted, reaching up to hook your hand around his neck and yank him into you - lips colliding in a frenzied mess. "Missed you - so fucking much."

He huffed through his nose, meshing your lips together messily before pulling back, "Missed you more, my dove. More than you know."

"I think I know," you winked, kissing him again, and then straightening up off of Caraxes hide. "So? How does... This all work?" You asked, glancing to the dragon providing you with limited privacy.

"Come," he spoke steadily, grabbing your bags, hoisting them up his shoulder; then climbing into the saddle, storing the bags, and reaching for you.

In Valyrian, you asked Caraxes, "Am I allowed to mount you? Not gonna eat me, right?"

The dragon snorted and shifted his weight, turning his head forward, and seemingly giving the O-K. Daemon reached for you, guiding you up to the saddle, and let you settle behind him. "Go easy on me, yes?" You whispered in his ear, aware of the eyes still lingering from the stronghold.

"Course, dove," he smirked - and everyone heard from the ground how you screamed in fright as Caraxes took off in a (clumsy) sprint, spread his wings, and took flight.

"DAEMON!" You scolded once in the air, clinging to him as if your life depended on it.

"Get used to this, my love," he laughed.

"Oh, my Gods," you whimpered. "Listen! If the Gods wanted us to fly, they would've given us wings, Daemon, oh, my fuck! Please! Please!"

"You're safe, my love," he assured, a hand over your tense ones that held the front of his tunic in a vice grip. "I would never let anything happen to you, you know that. And Caraxes is bonded to me - he would not let anything happen to you, either."

"Okay, that's reassuring, love, but we're still hundreds of feet in the air," you worried, tightening your hold on him.

"Sweetheart," he spoke softly, caressing your arms around his middle, "just open your eyes a moment. I promise it's worth it."

With mustered bravery, you wrenched your clamped eyes open, and the breath was knocked from your lungs. You were higher than the clouds, and by the Gods, you could see all land and clouds; the sun streaming between gaps; and providing a view you could never of imagined unless on dragon-back.

"See?" he smirked. "Not too terrible, is it?"

You breathed against the back of his neck, "No - it's beautiful, even, my love, do not mistake that. Doesn't make this any more safe."

"You are with me - how much more safe can you be, my love?"

"On the ground!" You groaned, burying your face into his shoulder blades. "Being on the ground is safest."

"Debatable. On dragonback, we can make a quick getaway. Safety is paramount up here, and Caraxes is a firece companion who has saved my life more often than not."

You hummed, wondering in a quiet voice, "Would I ever have to ride without you?"

"Never, my love."

You sighed with relief, "Then I suppose I could try to get used to this. But... Not right now."

"I understand," he chuckled, patting your hands again. "But I will need you to do one thing for me, my sweet."

"Hmm?"

"Come here."

"I'm right behind you, Daemon."

"No, come to the front," he smirked, twisting in the saddle to lean to the side. "Trust me, please," he nodded, guiding you around his body to settle in front of him; facing, and koala hugging him. "See?" He mused, hands smoothing over your back and waist, "Not too terrible."

"No," you shuddered lightly. "But we are not doing that again."

"In truth, it was a test," he admitted, gently curling a strand of wild, loose hair behind your ear.

"For what?"

"To see the extent of your trust," he sighed lightly. "I know you have not spent a lot of time around dragons, but for you to then climb around me? Tells me more than you'll know."

You hummed lightly, snuggled against his pectoral, "Did I pass your test then, my Prince?"

Daemon nodded, pecking your forehead, "Yes, my dove."

The rest of the ride wasn't as exciting as the start, but you did feel safer than before; might've even stretched your hands back some to support your upper body. With your legs hooked around his hips, and his hands casually sweeping up and down your thighs, it was otherworldly to just gaze at the man you were set to marry.

"What is it?" He wondered after an hour, the dragon gliding lower as you surged towards the capital of the country.

"Nothing," you assured, biting back your smile. "You just look so handsome."

"Oh?"

"Mhm," you nodded, elaborating, "this is where you belong, my Prince. Not on an Iron Throne, but here, on your dragon's back."

Daemon's eyes slitted some, "Careful, dove. We are nearly home."

"That matters?"

"Considering if another compliment such as that one passes through your lips, I might not wait until we're back to fuck you," he purred, hands tight over your thighs and slightly prying them open more.

"I'm surprised you've waited this long, truthfully," you smirked, his bare hands then slipping under your skirts to hold your calves. "How has it been without me?"

"Miserable, my love," he groaned lightly, letting his hands slide up to grasp the backs of your knees. "You were dearly missed, I almost stopped showing up to court, but figured it'd be suspicious if I returned when you did."

"My poor Prince," You eased, letting your knees widen. "Worry not, for I am back. And this coming season won't be like the others, hmm?"

"I imagine not," he admitted, raking his eyes over you. "Black suits you, my dove."

"Not for the reasons I wear it now," you cocked your head. "But in a few months, I'll wear this color to represent my husband."

Daemon smirked, dragging you forward gently as he leaned forward until his lips hovered over your own, "How I cannot wait to hear that."

"Hmm?"

"Being called your husband," he purred, smirking lightly before letting his lips descend upon yours. His hands pushed to grip at your thighs now, pawing at the meat of your inner thighs to hoist you into his lap, and keep you spread for him.

You let out a shuddering breath when his fingers danced down either side of your crotch; Daemon smirking when you whimpered as he pet to the sides of your sopping hole. "Daemon," you whispered, stomach knotting in anticipation, "if you do not stop now, we will not anytime soon."

He sighed, letting his face fall into the crook of your neck as his fingertips danced down your glistening slit. "I know you are right, but fuck, dove, you smell divine."

"Wait until we're home," you whispered, licking the shell of his ear after to save yourself from releasing a desperate cry as he added slightly more pressure. "I don't want us seen for the rest of the night, my Prince."

"'S still early," he pointed out.

"Exactly," you panted, cunt contracting as he simply toyed with your lower lips; spreading your arousal as you resisted the urge to hump into him. "Daemon," you warned now.

"Too much, my love?" he teased.

"Do not make us land with me bouncing on your cock, hmm?" You returned, hearing him chuckle lowly. His fingers retracted and you almost whined in disappointment.

"Fine," he relented, readjusting to hold your hips over your black dress. "I will resist this sweet cunt, but when we get in, we are not leaving the bed. Hmm?"

You smirked, "I would not want to. Might we be interrupted?"

"I might have, possibly, alleged... Told Viserys not to bother us," he admitted, shrugging some as his eyes casted down. "Hmm, speaking of home," he nodded, your head twisting to gaze down at the approaching city. "C'mere, dove," he sighed again, twisting you so you were forward in the saddle; straddling the dragon with your Prince's hands tight over your hips. "You're a natural up here, you know?" He mused gently in your ear, hands moving over yours to properly position them on the pommel of the saddle.

"I have a decent teacher," you mused, now eagerly peaking over scaly shoulders.

"Is that right? He take you flying often?"

"Hmm, no," you answered. "Though I think I might be interested in trying it more. Think he'd be willing to lend some time to me?"

"Who could say no to someone like you, princess?" He teased in your ear, Caraxes soaring lower to loom over the city.

"I am not sure," you smirked over your shoulder, "but it's a damn good thing I find it hard to say no to him, too."

"That right?" his teeth scraped over your ear, making you inhale deeply and grind back against him - relishing in the feeling of his hardening cock that would soon be plunging into you. "Easy, my princess - don't need me finishing in my pants and giving us away now, do we?"

You sighed lightly, "Guess not."

He chuckled, pecking your neck before taking control of the dragon's reigns, whispering, "I cannot say no to you, either, my dove."

Your hand rose to pet over his cheek with a hum, his chin resting on your shoulder; the Dragon Pit coming into view, and after circling it, Caraxes was landing with a distinct thud and bellowing roar.

Your lungs had stuttered in nerves but one of Daemon's hands smoothed around your hips to keep you anchored against him as you rocked dangerously upon landing. When the dragon was stable, Daemon loosened his grip to peer around at you, "You all right, dove?"

"Yeah," you sniffled. "Bit rougher than I thought, but all right."

"You will get used to it, my love, promise," he promised, nudging his forehead to your temple for a brief moment. "All right, c'mere," he sobered up, grabbing your few bags, and dismounting first. When standing on the dragon's hide, he tossed your things to a guard on the ground, and reached up for you. "I've got you," he assured, easing you down from the saddle.

You grunted lightly when you landed, sighing with slight relief, and telling Caraxes in Valyrian, "Though that was incredible, it is nice to be on the ground again."

The dragon snorted a bit as if in humor, his master smirking as he shouldered your bags. "Come," he ushered, bags strategically placed in front of the tented fabric of his crotch.

Your hand wrapped around his bicep and had to hustle some to keep up with his strong stride, but then an idea came to mind. You looked around the streets you were passing through to reach the Red Keep, finding the one you were in deserted. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you quickly sidestepped into an alcove and yanked Daemon behind you.

Before he could question you, your hands pushed against his shoulders so he was against the stone wall, and only gave him a moment to breathe before your lips were sucking over his. Daemon's throat released a moan while you pushed the straps of your bags from his shoulders, then sliding up to his short hair to twist your fingers between.

Daemon, like a man starving, kissed you with overwhelming need; tongue instantly lapping with your own as his hands held you tightly by your waist, hips, up to your jaw; raking through your own hair, and doing everything they could to keep you close.

Your hips rolled forward into his, making his lungs inhale sharply, and his fingers to bruise your flesh deliciously. With a low growl, Daemon turned you both, shoving you into the brick as if his resolve was crumbling; moaning into your mouth when you tugged his locks.

"Daemon," you panted lightly, petting your fingertips down his cheek.

"Yes, my love?" He whispered, licking into your mouth again.

You hummed, hand moving to steel around his neck and jaw to force his lips off yours. "Listen to me," you grinned, clinging to him as if a young Lady - new to love. He nodded, nose nuzzling yours. "The estate is settled, and the new Lord reigns. Everything went to plan, my Dragon."

"He's buried?" Daemon checked, switching to his native tongue in case of anyone lingering. "Gone?"

"Gone from us," you promised, caressing his cheek after. "I am yours, my love..."

"Fucking finally," he groaned, surging forward again to capture your lips in a grinning-kiss. "You're all I've ever wanted, my princess. Fuck..."

"The moment it's acceptable, I will marry you," you promised, kissing him again.

"My love," he chuckled, pecking your lips happily, "if you do not control yourself, I will take you right here."

You sighed with a small whine, bottom lip pouted. "Sounds ravishing."

"My dirty girl," he seethed, kissing you once and forcing himself away. "Gods," he paused, breathing through his nose as he tried to force the blood from his engorged cock - but nearly crumpled when your hand palmed over him. "Dove - "

"I will thank your brother for welcoming me back," you promised, giving a squeeze, "and then I will fuck you all night. Three weeks was far too long."

"How we went a decade, I'll never know," he cleared his throat, losing the battle to press into your working hand. "Sweetheart..."

"Do not lose this," you purred against his mouth, "I want you to cum in my mouth first."

Daemon whimpered when you let go, biting your lip with a knowing grin. "Dangerous woman," he cursed, forehead to yours. "And now I must see my brother? Like this? Truly?"

"Or you can wait for me," you whispered in his ear, "and be naked when I return."

Daemon let his teeth gnash across your neck. "We will see the King," he decided, pulling back to inhale deeply, "and then I will show you where we are residing."

"'We'?" you questioned gently.

He smirked, nodding, "I might've bargained for a better set up for us, my dove."

"What does that mean?"

"A bigger, much more private room," he smirked. "For you and I only."

You fought the grin threatening to overtake your face, "I'd like that."

"Good," he whispered, pecking your lips gently. "You deserve it all, my sweet."

This time, you lifted your chin to let your nose brush up his, "So long as I have you, my Prince, I am overly blessed. You're all I need."

"Good," he beamed, caressing your cheek. "Come, the faster this is over, the sooner I can have you in my mouth."

You smiled and took his arm again; bags on his shoulder once more to cover his trousers, and within minutes, you were entering the Red Keep. Perhaps it was a simple stroke of good luck that Ser Strong was seen, Daemon calling his name.

"Ah, my Prince," the Hand greeted, stealing a glance at you. "And my Lady, what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Do you know where my brother is?"

"In his chambers," Strong answered. "He's not in the best of states at the moment, Your Grace."

Daemon only hummed and lead you past the Hand of the King; barely letting you sputter your thanks before you were pulled around a corner. "Where are we going?" You asked as he lead you to a part of the castle you've never been in before.

"To see the King, and give our thanks," he eased. "Do not fret, my dove, you will need to get used to visiting the King in his private residence."

"Seems out of place for me," you mentioned.

"You will be the Princess of the City, my sweet," he smirked, "and you will never be out of place. Come," he soothed, leading you up to a pair of doors.

An hour later, you and Daemon were bowing out of the room, and leaving Viserys to rest. He asked of your husband's funeral, and when you informed him of your step-son coming to court this season, he was most intrigued to meet the new Lord. He was a kindly old man, and Daemon just smirked proudly as he watched the two of you catch up and chat.

By the end, Viserys was tired, and let you and Daemon take your leave. His raging hard-on had soothed some, no longer requiring your bags to be used to strategically hide his crotch. However, when you left the King, Daemon smirked and laced your hands together before leading you towards a separate tower.

"Love?" You wondered, watching him check up and down the hallway before prying a large portrait from the wall; swinging out to reveal a lone hallway.

"Private, just for us," he muttered, leading you through the doorway, and showing the mechanism that would keep the door secure.

"Who'd you have to kill for this, my Prince?" You sighed patiently, the hallway short, and leading to another door.

"It was closed off," he admitted, "but I convinced Viserys it would be good for us until we're publicly married. It's been renovated during your leave."

"Your brother is doing us too many favors," you frowned slightly, entering the new room. "Gods," you breathed, looking all around in wonder. The room was large, circular, and already fully furnished.

"He's happy to help," Daemon answered, watching you soak in the surprise. "Well? Do you like it?"

"Love it, my Prince," you beamed, nodding in reassurance.

"Good," he nodded. "It's ours if we wish to keep it past our wedding night."

"Maybe," you admitted. "The privacy is to die for."

"Thought you might appreciate it, my dove," he whispered, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist to peer out of the balcony doors. "It's ours, then."

"For now," you mused.

"Hey?" He let his lips press to your neck.

"Daemon," you turned in his arms, sighing lightly, "have you not given thought to what we are to do after we marry?"

"Besides have babies?" he mused lightly.

"Besides that, yes," you chuckled. "Where we might live, Daemon. You are second son, and I am but a daughter - set to marry for the second time. There are no lands in my name," you sighed, petting over his chest, "and I cannot offer you anything."

"You are enough for me, my love," he promised. "And we can live where we choose - that I promise you. Worry not," he sighed lightly, leaning in to press his lips to your forehead.

"What of the Stepstones?" You wondered, chin pressed to his sternum as he hummed.

"What of them, my sweet? To live?"

"Are you not King there?" You teased lightly. "Maybe it has the making for a new kingdom... Just needs a bit of man power to ensure it goes to plan, hmm?"

Daemon nodded, "Only problem, my love, is that the Stepstones are temperamental and unpredictable. Hardly a place to raise a family."

"Where would you raise our children?"

He paused a moment to consider your words, asking, "In truth?"

"Please."

He sighed, "Perhaps... On Dragonstone, but with family around. I grew with my brother, mother, father, cousins - aunts, uncles..."

You nodded sadly, "Perhaps we could..." Your shoulders shrugged lightly, "Stay here? Where you are with your brother?"

"No," he spoke with conviction, pulling your face to his so he could see you in full, "for this is not a city to raise a family in. Our children will be free of the burdens this capital brings."

You nodded, "So, where, my Prince?"

He chuckled, "I hear Lys is nice."

"And Pentos," you added.

"And parts of Essos."

"Maybe even Dorne."

"Maybe not," he chuckled lightly. "Wherever we want to go, my sweet, we will. For now, do not fret, we have time to plan our next move."

"Being a wedding," you smirked.

"Hmm," he paused, "no, I believe it would first be to court you - then I'll marry you."

You chuckled and rocked onto your toes, agreeing, "I cannot wait."

"At the end of this season, you will be mine," he beamed, nuzzling his nose with yours. "And I might start actually thanking the Seven."

"Oh," you laughed, watching his lips almost involuntarily spread, "it's that serious, is it? Moved to religion, are you?"

Daemon smirked and leaned in close, slowly kissing you before whispering, "I've finally got the woman of my dreams, yeah... Yeah, I'm moved to religion, my princess. I've waited too long for this."

Your throat felt thicker than before, your toes pushing you up to wrap your arms around his neck; burrowing into his warmth, and feeling his arms tighten around you. "You'll never be without me," you promised him, petting down the back of his head before threading your fingers through his short locks. "I love you, Daemon..."

He breathed a sigh of relief, lips puckering to place a kiss along your shoulder, "I love you more, my sweet dove."

part three: Darkening Hour

Midnight Calls masterlist

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

[hollandorks]

shadows in the night

battinson!bruce wayne x f!reader

chapter fifteen

summary: more than a year after the events of middle of the night, y/n and Bruce are happily engaged and working to lower the amount of crime in Gotham. However, a new killer calling himself the Riddler has other plans for their happiness…set during the events of the movie, mostly canonical, some changes made to fit the story

a/n: so sorry this took extra long to get uploaded! I was really unhappy with my first draft of the chapter and took some extra time to work on it, then the day I planned to post I had to go to the dentist for a gum infection and ended up scheduling to have my wisdom teeth removed. Yikes. The good news is, I’ll be trying to write tons and finish this and at least have the rest of the story written before surgery in about a month! 

word count: 3316

Y/n sank into a crouch, biting back a sob, as she watched the Gotham Project go up in flames.

Within a minute, Ollie was there, and then so was Bryn, and they held her and cried with her as all of their passion and hard work burned.

Y/n watched, numb, as months of hard work turned to ash. 

She was certain the fire had been set on purpose. She’d checked and rechecked everything before they’d opened, had every certification on the planet that deemed the building safe, and even then Bruce had hired someone else for a second opinion. 

There was no way it had burned down by accident, right? Maybe there had been lightning or something but–it was barely raining. 

The numbness spread through the rest of her as she watched the last of the flames disappear into plumes of smoke. 

“Shit,” Ollie said next to her, the first word any of them had spoken in a while. “This sucks.” 

“Yeah,” y/n said, voice rough from the combination of exhaustion and smoke. 

It had been so much work to get it started. Endless planning and paperwork and interviews. She had spent hours working every day as the space had been renovated. Hell, she’d even helped build things wherever the contractors would let her. She’d painted and sanded and hammered and hauled in furniture. She’d spent time doing interviews to get the word out, then interviewing potential staff. She’d spent hours figuring out how to order the things they needed and then ordering again when they inevitably ran out. She’d cooked and cleaned for weeks after they’d opened until she had enough employees.

It had been a passion project she hadn’t known she’d wanted. A project she hadn’t known she needed. Working on it had gotten her through a lot of the residual stress and trauma from almost dying the year before. How many nights had she woken from nightmares and gotten up to do paperwork so she wouldn’t wake Bruce? How many hours had she spent in the abandoned subway station working while he was out in the city? How many times did she go help people when she was feeling particularly small and insignificant? 

The work creating and then running the Gotham Project had given her a purpose when she’d had none. It was even what had started her going out into the city like Bruce did–because she could always be doing more for the city. 

And there it was, all of those hours, her literal blood, sweat, and tears–all just gone. 

Y/n’s phone started ringing sometime around when they finally got the fire put out. She wasn’t sure the smell of smoke would ever come out of her skin. The air was thick with it. 

“Shit,” she said when she saw the number. She wiped her eyes and glanced at Bryn and Ollie as they stared curiously at her. “It’s the hospital.” 

She stood from the curb where the three of them had been seated, and answered the call. 

“Hi, I’m so sorry for the late call. I’m calling on behalf of Mr. Pennyworth. He regained consciousness and was asking for Mr. Wayne, but we couldn’t get ahold of him. Your phone number was listed to call in case we couldn’t reach Mr. Wayne.” The woman’s voice was too perky for it being the middle of the night, y/n thought vaguely. 

Then her words sunk in. Alfred was awake. “No, yeah, thank you for calling. Thanks for letting me know. Can we–can we visit?” She hastily wiped at her eyes again. Finally, some good news. 

“Yes, of course. Visiting hours are technically over, but…since he’s only just now awake…” The woman’s voice softened. “I’m sure it will be fine.” 

Y/n thanked her again and hung up. 

Alfred was awake. 

She cursed again. There was still so much to do with the Gotham Project–or what was left of it. She’d had to fill out an incident report and was informed that, as soon as it was safe, the investigators had to go inside and see if they could find a cause. Then and only then would she be able to go inside and see what was left. 

“What is it?” Bryn asked softly. She pushed one hand on Ollie’s shoulder to help herself stand. Ollie grumbled and yanked on her arm in turn as he stood, too. 

“Alfred’s awake. I–I have to–” 

“Go,” Ollie said as he made a shooing motion with his hand. “We’ll take care of things here and call you if there’s anything else they need. And when they let us in I’ll document everything for you. Go be with your family.” 

“Yeah, we’ve got this,” Bryn said. She squeezed y/n’s hand. “Go.” 

Y/n went, calling Bruce as she did. She had no idea what he was doing, if he’d ever made it home from meeting Falcone. 

He answered almost immediately. “I got the voicemail from the hospital,” he said instead of a hello. “And your voicemail about the Gotham Project. Is everything okay?” 

“No,” she said truthfully. Her voice broke on the word. “It’s…gone. But–I’ll meet you at the hospital, okay?” 

“See you there,” Bruce murmured. He hung up without another word. 

At the hospital, she eagerly grabbed Bruce’s hand when she saw him at the reception desk. She had no idea how he’d beaten her there, but she didn’t care. Something within her settled slightly the moment she felt his fingers lace with hers. His hands were freezing. She wrapped both her hands around one of his for a moment to try and warm it. 

“Mr. Pennyworth is resting again,” the doctor informed them when they made it to Alfred’s room. “Feel free to go in and wait, though. His condition looks much more stable and I think surgery might not be necessary either. We’ll know more tomorrow.” 

Y/n let out a trembling breath, relieved. “That’s great news, thank you, doctor.” 

She and Bruce went and sat beside Alfred’s bed. 

“How’d the…visit with Falcone go?” she asked softly, afraid of waking Alfred up. 

Bruce shrugged. 

“That great, then?” she said, eyebrows raised. There was tension radiating off of him in waves. Her half-hearted joke didn’t seem to even register with him. 

“I…have to talk to Alfred about it first,” Bruce murmured. “I don’t…know what to think.” 

Y/n could see him pulling away from her as easily as if he were actually walking away. He was withdrawing into himself, shoulders curved, jaw tight. It was as if there was an ocean between them all of a sudden, the waters churning in a storm, uncrossable. She didn’t know how to reach him or how to make it better. She wasn’t sure she could make it better, not with the state of her own mind. 

“What happened at the Gotham Project?” Bruce asked after a moment. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of Alfred since the moment they’d stepped inside the room. 

“I’m not sure yet,” she said. She rubbed at her face. Her clothes smelled like smoke. Her body knew it hadn’t slept in much too long. Her muscles ached from the explosion and then sitting for so long on the curb outside the restaurant. She wanted to sleep. She wanted all of this to be over. “They’d just finished putting it out when I left. Then the investigators were going to go in and see what caused it. Bryn and Ollie stayed there, they said they’d call.” 

Finally, Bruce looked at her, but there was a flatness in his eyes that made her unbearably sad. “We’ll rebuild,” he swore softly. “As fast as the city lets us.” 

She gave him a watery smile. “I know,” she said. “But I just–it took so much work to get it started before…” 

She sighed and rubbed at her eyes again. She stood. “I’m going to go get some coffee. Want anything?” 

Bruce shook his head and looked back to Alfred. 

She gently squeezed his shoulder and set off in search of caffeine. 

When she came back, coffee cup clutched in her hands like a lifeline, she heard Bruce say, “You lied to me.” 

Something made her stop outside of the door and wait. This was a private moment between him and Alfred, and she didn’t need to be a part of it. 

But she also didn’t want to walk away. Bruce was drawing away from her, and she might not otherwise be able to hear about what happened with Falcone. She knew he would do his best to keep it to himself, to keep his pain to himself. He always did. Whether it was to protect her or to protect himself, she didn’t know. 

“My whole life,” Bruce continued, voice barely above a whisper. Y/n leaned against the doorframe just out of sight in order to hear better.  “I spoke to Carmine Falcone. He told me what he did for my father. About Salvatore Maroni.” 

Y/n closed her eyes. So the Riddler had been right. 

“He told you Salvatore Maroni…” Alfred started, voice uncertain. 

“Had my father killed,” Bruce said. Y/n had to bite her tongue to hold in the gasp. No wonder Bruce was so withdrawn. “Why didn’t you tell me all this? All these years I’ve spent fighting for him, believing that he was a good man.” Bruce’s voice shook with anger. 

“He was a good man,” Alfred said in a growl. “You listen to me. Your father was a good man. He made a mistake.” 

“A ‘mistake’?” Bruce scoffed. “He had a man killed. Why? To protect his family image? His political aspirations?” 

Y/n didn’t want to hear anymore of the pain in Bruce’s voice, but she couldn’t move away. 

“It wasn’t to protect the family image, and he didn’t have anyone killed. He was protecting your mother. He didn’t care about his image or the campaign, any of that. He cared about her, and you, and in a moment of weakness, he turned to Falcone. But he never thought Falcone would kill that man. Your father should have known that Falcone would do anything to finally have something on him that he could use. That’s who Falcone is. And that was your father’s mistake. But when Falcone told him what he’d done, your father was distraught. He told Falcone he was going to the police, that he would confess everything. And that night, your father and your mother were killed.” 

She fumbled for the seat in the hallway at Alfred’s words. It made a terrible sort of sense, didn’t it? When confronted by Bruce, Falcone blamed Maroni–who was already out of the way–and took the suspicion off of himself. 

“It was Falcone?” Bruce said softly after a beat. She ached to go in and comfort him, but this was between him and Alfred. She hadn’t known the Waynes, she hadn’t been around twenty years ago, so she shouldn’t insert herself into it. But she wished, more than anything, that she could take just a little bit of Bruce’s pain away. 

“Oh, I wish I knew for sure,” Alfred said, voice just as soft. “Or maybe it was some random thug on the street who needed money, got scared, and pulled the trigger too fast. If you don’t think I’ve spent every day searching for that answer–” Alfred stopped, the pain in his voice all too apparent. “It was my job to protect them. Do you understand? I know you always blamed yourself. You were only a boy, Bruce. I could see the fear in your eyes, but I didn’t know how to help. I could teach you how to fight, but I wasn’t equipped to take care of you. You needed a father. And all you had was me. I’m sorry.” The last two words were barely a whisper, almost lost in the noise of the hospital. 

Y/n wiped at the tears that were falling. Alfred and Bruce had both gone through so much. And they were still going through it. Was it better for them to have answers now, after all this time? Or was the Riddler simply stirring up shit that should have been left untouched? Because the pain she knew both of the men inside the room were feeling was too much, on top of everything else, for them to bear. 

And the Riddler had caused it. 

The Riddler, and probably Falcone. 

Y/n wished they were both dead. Hell, maybe they’d kill each other for some reason, and she and Bruce could be left out of it. It was wishful thinking, but it helped her feel better. 

“Don’t be sorry, Alfred,” Bruce was saying as y/n sipped on her coffee to ground herself from her anger and heartache. “God. I never thought I’d feel fear like that again. I thought I’d mastered all that. I mean, I’m not afraid to die.” Y/n couldn’t help the small gasp at the words, chest aching, even as Bruce continued, “I realize now there’s something I haven’t got past. This fear of ever going through any of that again. Of losing somebody I care about. Last year with the gala–” Bruce cleared his throat slightly. “And now, with all of this…” 

There was a rustle, like Alfred shifting. “I–is y/n alright? I never asked.” 

“She’s fine. She went to get a coffee. I…Alfred, I’m sorry.” Bruce’s voice broke, just slightly. 

“Don’t be sorry, I’m just glad you weren’t home. And I’m glad y/n is okay.” 

Bruce sighed, cleared his throat. “I know, but–I need to tell you something. I…when I saw it was you, my first thought was ‘thank God it wasn’t her.’ I–” 

Y/n had to wipe more tears away. 

“My dear boy,” Alfred said softly. “I’m glad it wasn’t her, too. Don’t feel guilty for having that thought. I’m getting to be an old man, and I would gladly die in her place. Or yours. You still have so much of your life ahead of you.” 

“Don’t say that,” Bruce snapped, but there was no real fire in it. “I don’t want to lose either of you, ever.” 

Y/n figured it was time to go inside. She stood, composing herself, and gently pushed open the door. 

“Alfred! You’re awake!” She didn’t have to feign her enthusiasm, even though she knew for a fact he’d been awake for the past several minutes. She paused at the foot of the bed, noticing that he and Bruce were clasping each other’s hands. She almost cried again at the sight. She set her coffee down on the tray to lean over and gently kiss Alfred’s cheek. “I knew your head was hard enough to survive an explosion,” she joked as she straightened, earning her a raspy chuckle. 

“Yes, well, it certainly feels like I’ve been blown up.” 

Y/n stood beside Bruce and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, squeezing gently. Maybe now they could go home and sleep some. Alfred was okay. He was awake. And he’d had a heart-to-heart with Bruce that had sounded much needed. 

“We should–” she said, but stopped when she saw Bruce and Alfred both looking towards the skylight in the room. 

Batman’s signal shone through the dark. 

Y/n’s phone started ringing. 

“Motherfucker,” she muttered, glaring up at the signal, then down at Bruce. “I’m going with you, and you aren’t arguing,” she said as she answered her phone. 

It was Bryn. “Y/n–” 

“Is everything okay?” she asked, because at this point she was assuming it was bad news. 

She wasn’t wrong. 

“They said it was most likely arson. And…” Bryn hesitated. There was a fierce, whispered conversation she couldn’t make out. Ollie, most likely. 

“What aren’t you telling me?” 

“They found something painted on the bricks on the back wall outside. The one thing that didn’t burn.” 

“Just tell her!” Ollie said in the background. 

Bryn sighed. “It said ‘rat’ in red paint.” 

Y/n blew out a breath. “Yeah, well, it was only a matter of time,” she said a bit bitterly. 

“Y/n…” Bryn said. “This is serious. Arson? Vandalism? You–” 

“Did you see the news earlier tonight? What the Riddler told everyone I did? It was only a matter of time. Send me pictures of everything, I’ll have to take care of stuff later.” 

“You can’t just–” Bryn started. 

Y/n interrupted, “I have to go. Thank you. You guys get some sleep, okay?” 

She hung up and found Bruce standing and watching her. Alfred’s eyebrows were raised underneath the bandages on his head. 

“Um. The Gotham Project was burned down earlier,” she said for Alfred’s benefit. She winced. 

“What?” 

“Bryn just called. The investigators said it was arson, and someone painted the word ‘rat’ on the bricks, too.” She sighed and rubbed her tired eyes. “Bruce, we should–” 

When she looked up again, his eyes were hard. He was angry. So was she. But there was nothing they could do about it at that moment. 

“Arson?” Alfred repeated as she and Bruce stared at each other. “They’re sure?” 

“I guess so. After the Riddler’s video…” 

“What video?” Alfred asked. 

“I forgot you’ve been unconscious for a while,” she said, but her joke fell on deaf ears. “The Riddler…outed me as the confidential informant in the case from last year. Within a few hours the Gotham Project burned down.” She shrugged even though there was a hard knot burning in the center of her chest. God, she just wanted to sleep. 

Alfred cursed impressively for a man with a head wound. “We should call–” 

“I have to go,” Bruce interrupted, voice almost a growl. “You two stay here.” 

“Nope,” y/n said, “I’m coming with you. I’m in this shit as much as you are now, if not more.” 

“Be careful,” Alfred said, interrupting whatever argument Bruce had been about to make. “I mean it.” It was his dad voice again. Y/n almost smiled. He really was feeling better if he was using it on them. 

“We’ll be back as soon as we can,” y/n said as she took Bruce’s hand and led him out. 

He waited until they were in the elevator to speak. “Arson?” He spat out the word. 

“The Riddler has a lot to answer for,” she said. “That’s just one thing on the list.” 

“I have to finish this,” Bruce said. He turned a tight circle in the small space, like he was full of too much pent up energy to stay still. 

“We have to finish this,” y/n said. She put a steadying hand on his arm. “And we will.” 

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. When she went to step out, Bruce caught her wrist and tugged her close. Their chests brushed as they breathed in tandem. He leaned down and rested his forehead against hers. 

“What?” she asked softly as the elevator doors slid shut again. Bruce simply stared at her for a long moment. 

“I won’t let him take anything else from us,” Bruce said in a whisper. 

“I won’t either,” she said. 

He kissed her lightly, all of his pain and frustration and anger pouring into the kiss as surely as it was her own. 

“We shouldn’t keep Gordon waiting,” she murmured as he pulled away. “It’s cold as shit outside, he’s probably impatient.” 

Bruce took her hand. 

“I heard, um, your conversation with Alfred,” she told him as he led her to his car. They’d speed home, change, and swap cars as quickly as they could. “I’m sorry about–about your parents. About all of that.” 

She braced herself for Bruce to be angry at her eavesdropping, but he stayed silent as they pulled away from the hospital. 

“The Riddler has a lot to answer for,” Bruce finally said, “But so does Carmine Falcone. And I intend to collect on both accounts.” 

Y/n intended to collect from both of them, too. One way or another, they would pay for what they had done to Bruce, to Alfred, to her, and to the city. She was going to make sure of it.

Next Chapter

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[my-tin-can-mans]

Pretty Nails

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddies insists on tagging along to the nail salon with you.

Notes: So yeah, that little thought I had? Decided to write a four-page sickening fluff to it. Also, if the salon ladies' names seem oddly familiar, I was watching bobs burgers while writing this.

Warnings: Fluff that's all it is. (what no angst? that's surprising for me). some sexual situations and implications to smut so minors DNI.

____

“Alright, Eds, I gotta go. I have a nail appointment in 20,” you said, leaping off his bed from your previous spot. You turned back to look at him for a beat before searching for your shoes that had been haphazardly taken off the moment you stepped into his room earlier today, only to see him with a childish pout against his lips. You giggle in response. 

“That’s not fair,” he said, “I barely got to see you all week between you working at the family video and those projects you’ve been working on. I missed you, and now you're leaving?”

“To be fair, you should've been working on the project too for Ms. O’Donnell’s class, and it's not my fault you were daydreaming about me instead,” he raised his eyebrows at your sass, “and it's also not all my fault that we barely got to see each other, you had a hellfire meeting that lasted two hours over the usual time last night, could've spent all night with me if not.” 

It was Saturday, and every last Saturday of the month was spent at the nail salon. He knew that, but every time throughout the whole year you two have been dating, he put up a fit that you couldn’t spend that time with him. Although he would never really complain because he loved how excited you got when you showed him the new set you had put on, and not that he would ever tell you, but he secretly loved the way you raked the fresh sharp nails down his back while he was pounding into you, it made him hot just thinking about it. He also loved to see whatever pretty color you got wrapped around his cock, your dainty hands barely wrapping all the way around him. So yeah, although Eddie complained about you being gone for a little while during his usually planned time to spend with you, he would never truly be upset that you got your nails done. 

He frowned at your reasonings. Jutting his lower lip out even more in a cartoonish pout now, “baby,” he whined, “can you reschedule till next week? I wanna spend all day with you.” 

You shook your head adorningly at him. “I can't just reschedule; im a regular, and they practically expect me. You know, if you wanna complain about not being with me so much, you can just tag along.” 

His face lit up at the suggestion, and you were almost shocked at that. Sure he was clingy sometimes, but you couldn't imagine him ever wanting to come to a nail salon with you. He'd stick out like a sore thumb. Not only that but there wasn't much for him to do for him there besides sit by you. He was so energetic and bored so quickly that he’d probably start complaining after the first ten minutes. 

“Can I really come?” he asked. 

“Sure,” you shrugged, sitting down on the bed after finding your shoes to put them on. You figured he was just bluffing. He’d drive you there, change his mind and then drop you off. 

So you can imagine your surprise when the bell on the door to the salon rang while you stepped through with the metalhead puppy-dog trailing your heel. The girl who usually did your nails perked up from her spot behind her table. 

“Oh honey, it's so great to see you. Come, sit down,” she spoke, gesturing to you with her hand, not noticing the man attached at your hip yet. That was until you sat down in your chair, and Eddie just stood behind you, not knowing what to do. 

“Lousie, this is Eddie. He wanted to tag along today.” you nodded your head back to him while giving her a knowing smirk. 

Her face lit up. She knew all about Eddie. What else were you supposed to do but gossip for 40 minutes a month with the same girl? Of course, you also talked about her relationships. She had two kids and was in the dating pool, so she always had a crazy story between the two. “Oh, very nice to meet you here,” she said, gesturing to the table beside you that was thankfully empty, “you can sit at Tina’s booth for now. She’s out on lunch and doesn’t have another client coming for an hour.” 

As Eddie went to sit down in the chair beside you, Louise looked at you, mouthing he's cute to you while wiggling her eyebrows. You giggled in response. “Alright, honey, here's the colors. You know the drill. You make up your mind while I get this set filed and ready.” She handed you the ring with the samples of every color on them. 

Before you could pick it up off the desk, though, a ringed hand was snatching it out of your view. You turned your head to see Eddie curiously looking at the swatches. He flipped through them with focused attention you only ever saw when he was planning a DnD campaign or re-reading lord of the rings. When his gaze glanced over at you, though, you raised a brow questioningly. 

He gave you the same look he had earlier when he asked if he actually could tag along, “can I pick?” he asked. Your eyebrows rose in shock. Surely he didn't actually care what color you got put on your nails. 

“Sure, but no black or red  Eds.” you smriked. Those were his favorite colors. There was no way he would want to pick out any other color, “it’s still summer. I wanna bright warm color to match.” It was late September, basically fall already, but it was still a little warm outside, and while you liked his taste in music, and you liked the way he dressed, you had always been a bit more girly girl. That was alright, though. He loved to see the little sundresses you wore when it has hot out. He also loved to find you in a def leopard shirt and ripped jeans. He wasn't picky, really. 

“Okay,” he said, focusing his attention back on the swatches, “I can do that.” 

Your mouth hung open at his response. And when you turned back to Louise, she had a knowing smirk on her face.  You rolled your eyes, just your luck. Here you thought you were gonna get to have some relaxing time and gossip a little, but instead, you're stuck with whatever funky color Eddie decided to choose because you can’t say no to him and no gossiping because said gossip would've been about him and well, he's sitting right beside you, and you couldn’t gossip about anything else because well let’s face it, Eddie didn’t know how to keep a secret so if you told Louise the fact that Steve had practically tripped over himself when you handed him a stack of adult films to start rewinding in the back, you knew that Eddie would never let Steve hear the end of it the next time you all hung out. 

But apparently, this day was just shock after shock from Eddie because when Lousie had finished filing off the old color and filling the gaps, she turned to Eddie to ask for the color he picked, grinning. “Alright, hun, what lovely color have you picked out for your equally lovely girl,” she said teasingly. 

He mirrored her smirk, holding up a single swatch and handing it to her. She looked at it, her smirk growing in size. “Ah, you did good, hun, perfect summer color.” she sat it down, getting up for a moment to grab the color. You snatched the swatch to look at what color he chose, it was going on our nails, and you were the last one to see it. 

It was… a very good choice. A warm peachy pink color. Perfect for summer and also great for going into fall. When you looked back at him, he was wearing the smug smirk still, and it made you want to scoff. How dare he be able to pick out the perfect color? You shook your head at him, and he laughed. 

Somewhere along the line, Tina had come back from grabbing lunch and was now sitting at her desk on the other side of Eddie. While you were busy listening to Louise talk about the date she had recently gone on, Tina and Eddie were chatting off to the side as well. You weren't really paying attention. You were just glad he was occupied enough not to start complaining, also glad that Tina seemed to be enjoying his company too and not annoyed someone was sitting in front of her while she was off the clock. 

“Alright, hun,” Lousie said, pushing your hand back to you, “60 seconds in the lamp, and you’re all good to go.” 

You placed your hand in the LED lamp, waiting for the gel to cure. When you looked over to let Eddie know you were almost done, his hand was in Tina’s, and she was brushing paint onto them. Your jar dropped. It wasn't that Eddie wearing polish was a new thing. He painted them every once in a while with a cheap bottle he got from the drug store. But seeing him with his hand perched up on the table chatting as you did with Lousie was definitely a little different. Not only that, but he was having Tina, who was supposed to be on her break, doing them. 

“Eds,” you said sternly, “she's on break. Why do you have her painting your nails!” 

He frowned at your words, “she offered.” he said, looking like a scolding puppy who just peed on a rug. 

Before you could reprimand him anymore, Tina spoke up, “it's fine, hun, I did offer, and I wouldn’t if I wasn’t okay with it, plus hes nicer than most of my clients and not as picky either.” she giggled, handing him his hand back to put under the lamp. 

Your mouth continued to hang open. Taking your hand out of the lamp after it beeped at you, you shifted focus and stood up, and grabbed your purse to pay. Once again, Eddie snatched it out of your hands from where he was sitting. 

“Nuh uh, princess, don’t even think about it. I’m paying for both of us today.” he winked at you, grabbing his wallet from his pocket with the hand that wasn’t curing under the lamp at the moment. 

“Eds, that’s really sweet, but you don't have to,” you said. He shook his head. 

“Of course I do, gotta spoil my girl somehow.” you gave him a halfhearted eyeroll that he knew you didn't really mean smiling while doing so. 

His hand finished curing, and he popped up, thanking Tina and searching through his wallet while you both walked to the front to pay. 

When you got back to Eddie’s trailer, he insisted on doting over your new nails. “Come on, you gonna show me your new set like you always do,” he said, taking your hand already to inspect them, “wow, princess, such a pretty color. Who picked that out?” he teased. 

He kissed your fingers, murmuring a so pretty again. He kissed up your arm, all the up to your neck. “Think we need to test them out though.” he mumbled into your neck, leaving a wet trailing of kisses all the way up to your mouth as well. 

“What do you mean?” you said, pulling back a bit to see his whole face. At your words a devilish grin appeared on his face. 

“Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean,” he said, pushing you back to lay fully on his bed. It was safe to say that after the night was over, Eddie was welcome to tag along to the nail salon with you anytime. 

[darling-i-read-it]

Good Husbands

Adrian Chase x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: adrian being sad :(, aggressive interviewers being sexist, the end is cut off before any actual nsfw happens but it’s like cut off RIGHt before lol

Author’s Note: Adrian <3 Adrian <3 Adrian <3 Writing interviews is one of my favorite things to do and i never get to do them lol I just love aggressively annoying interviewers in fanfiction I think its so funny. I hope you enjoy darling!

Requested: by anon, hiii! so I have a vigilante/adrian chase request I'd like to share. also, the reader's role in this is kinda inspired by margot robbie's take on sharon tate from "Once Upon a Time in Hollywood." (you'll see what I mean, hopefully)

so I was wondering if you could do a vigilante/adrian chase x fem!reader oneshot in which Y/N's happens to be local famous actress and just so happens to be with THE vigilante. she also, to everyone's surprise, has a child with him. people were quick to be shocked because vigilante's well....vigilante and she's THE Y/N. famous for her own starring roles. she's a bit outgoing, likes to have her fun and loves vinyls 24/7. and yes, she knows of her own partner's "work" and of course identity but that doesnt stop her from loving him any less. when he's not working, he's the adorable and insanely fun stay-at-home dad and is loving towards his girl.

one night, he comes home to them both and has a talk with Y/N about being a bit insecure, not only because of what he does for a living but whenever he's mentioned by people whenever Y/N's out for another role, people are quick to criticize the fact that "oh he kills for a living", "how can he hold a woman like her", and the most bothering, "he's a dad? how could he be? look at him". but she's quick to think that she doesnt care about what they have to say about adrian because that's her adrian, the one she adores. just some good fluff and cute moments between the two, adrian being an adorable father and maybe to top it off....some spice?? but yea! pls? thank you. :)

Summary: the request!

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Interviews were kind of the bane of your existence at this point. After you had married Adrian you gave little to no interviews. It made them harder to get and therefore, more people craved them. It wouldn’t have been a big deal had you not married Vigilante. But you did. Now you have to deal with those consequences.

You smiled pleasantly, hands linked in front of you as you tried to remain civil as this interview started. The reporter this time around was a woman who had prying eyes and long black hair. You were only doing this because it was required for your new movie. At least one.

This was the one.

“Are you ready Mrs…”

“Just Y/L/N please,” you said. This was going to be trouble. She only had half an hour to torture you. You could last that long being polite. “And yes I’m ready.”

“Okay just…” She fixed her tie, looked at the crew and then there was a countdown to the start of the interview. You cleared your throat, adjusted yourself in your seat and started to smile. “Hello everyone, my name is Kiele Turman and I’m here with the infamous Y/N Y/L/N who is starring in a new highly anticipated movie ‘Batman: No Way Home.’ Tell us, did you get to talk to Batman about this upcoming project?” You laughed, happy that the first question was something you could answer easily.

“Yes actually! Funnily enough, they had to get his permission to do this movie. He came to set once and it was hilarious.”

“Oh that’s fantastic! Did you get to talk to him?” “I play the love interest, of course I got to talk to him.” Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad afterall if you just got to talk about the Batman the whole time. “He was actually super nice but he had to leave quickly. Fighting crime and all.” She nodded, joining you in the laughter.

“Speaking of crime, I have to ask.” Here it is. “There have been a lot of rumors about you and your husband, Vigilante. We know you are the mother of a two year old with him, how is that going? Considering his line of work?” You adjusted in your seat. You could already see this being added to compilations on Youtube of the awkwardly few amount of times you had talked about your husband.

“He’s a great dad and a great husband,” you said. “I’m very happy with him.” “Honestly, I’m surprised Batman didn’t ask you for his number, considering his murder wrap.” You scoffed, looking at your manager behind the camera who was giving you no emotions.

“I’m not here to talk about my husband. I’m here to talk about the movie if you don’t mind.”

“Well of course but you do so few interviews that it would be remiss of me not to mention your famous husband who took America's sweetheart for his own. You can’t blame us for being curious!” She had a smile on her face that was so forced it had to be hurting her. You nodded a bit, shaking your head. “At least tell us a bit about your little boy. How is motherhood treating you?”

“Well! I have a supportive co parent who takes Seth when I’m not around and so we’ve been trying to manage that.” You could feel her judgment. Letting your child stay with a murderer. “But he got to meet Batman so I think he’s got his hero down pat. His dad is rather annoyed about that.” That eased you up a bit and clearly she could take that.

“Oh how wonderful! I hear you also got a visit from Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises who is funding the project.”

==

You mostly forgot about the interview until it came out a couple weeks later. You didn’t even notice when it dropped because you were so busy on set you hadn’t been on your phone all day. Now that the day was over you were more than happy to get back to your family and eat ice cream and go to bed.

You unlocked the door and stepped inside, tossing your bag to the side.

“Adrian I’m home!” you called, slipping off your shoes lazily. You ran your hand through your hair and walked into the house, peeking around the walls to find your husband. “Adrian? Seth?!”

Finally you found Adrian in the living room. He was wearing his regular clothes, a bomber jacket and some jeans. Seth was at his feet, playing with blocks in his little ‘Daddy’s Favorite’ shirt.

“Hey boys,” you cooed, walking up behind them. You brushed Adrian's hair out of his face and kissed his forehead before leaning down and kissing Seth’s head. “Are you okay?” you questioned, sitting on the ground beside your son. You put your hand on Adrian’s knee and he looked away from his phone then up at you. He gave you a half smile that was weak and didn’t meet his eyes.

“Yeah, long day.”

“Adrian,” you whispered, putting your chin on his knee. He looked down at you pleasantly.

“Am I a good husband?”

You were so startled you lifted your head back up. Seth was playing with your fingers, very happy his momma was home.

“Adrian you’re the best husband. Why? Baby?” You grabbed his hand, getting on your knees in front of him.

“That’s the baby,” he whispered, pointing to Seth. You giggled, shaking your head.

“Adrian.”

“Your interview came out today.”

Your face fell. You had completely forgotten about it. You had mentioned it to him when it happened but didn’t want to dwell. You knew how much that kind of thing hurt him.

“They don’t think I can be a dad or a husband,” he whispered solemnly. He had the saddest puppy dog look on his face. When he got sad it broke hearts. You put your hands on his cheeks, forcing him to look at you through his thick glasses.

“Adrian they don’t know you like we do. They only know things Vigilante have done. They don’t know that you have matching shirts with our son.” He laughed gently.

“I love the shirts. I think you should get one too.”

“I should.” Seth was going to fall asleep. You could feel him on your side that he was ready for his nap. “Hold on lemme put bubba down,” you whispered, picking up your son.

“Goodnight Seth. I love you,” he weeped quietly. You quickly took him upstairs and put him down where he was already ready to fall asleep. You grabbed the baby monitor and rushed back downstairs to where Adrian was still sitting.

“What if I can’t be a good dad? What if we shouldn’t have gotten married?” You shook your head.

“If I thought we shouldn’t have gotten married I wouldn’t have married you.” You grabbed his cheeks, forcing him to look into your eyes. “You’re the best husband ever. You’re the best dad ever. You’re here for me and Seth always. Not many men can say that Adrian.” You put your forehead on his and looked up into his eyes where he was looking at you dumbly. “I love you. I don’t care what other people have to say about our relationship.”

“Are you sure?” he pouted.

“Positive.” You brought up the baby monitor and pointed at it. “Look. We made that. We’re doing this and we’re doing it well. Who else can say that?”

“An alarming amount of people. There should be a test you have to take before having a baby.” You laughed and nodded, sitting back on your hindlegs. He was still sitting on the couch, a little bit better now. You put the baby monitor down and rubbed his knees, looking up at him.

“Adrian?” you whispered.

“Yeah?” he whispered because you were whispering.

“Do you know how much I love you?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Are you going to show me?”

“Yeah sweetie I’m gonna show you.” He shivered as he felt your hands drag further up his thighs.

“Oh!” You smiled gently and he was too excited to breathe evenly. “I love you.” “I love you more Adrian.”

“I’m gonna unbuckle my pants now.”

“I would advise that yeah.”

DC Tag List: @elisaa-shelby, @alexxavicry, @demigirl-with-problems, @chaotic-fangirl-blog, @caswinchester2000, @gxrlwithluv, @lov3vivian

[tiffanylamps]

I cannot help but think BE scriptwriter is the kindest person. She didn’t end the drama at the arrest scene. She added the NSB anniversary to

1. Confirm that Manyang people are HJW’s family now. (Jihwa mentioned that she tried to contacted Juwon multiple times but he did not respond. She was smiling when she mentioned it. Awww that’s family. ) I have heartache thinking about Juwon. Know that he has manyang people helps somewhat.

2. Juwon’s warm smile. (I guess it is the first time YJG act a little similar to who he actually is even it is still more reserved. 😎) Juwon has been cold, annoying, miserable, painful…throughout the whole drama. Nice to see him as a real and lovable person.

3. The last teasing remark “Don’t drop the formal. Lee Don sik. “ He still has his personality. He still tease/flirt with Donsik in a playful way. I feel that sentence alone inspired many fanfic on post canon. I am grateful to see the liveliness of Juwon.

Just want to share my muse in the middle of the night. Thanks for reading! And thank you for your work in the BE community !

Hello anon, thank you for sending me this lovely message 🤩 I adore everything you just said! You are so right, Kim Su Jin is truly an incredible writer. She created and developed characters with such depth and helped tell a story with real feeling and sincerity. Beyond Evil seems to be a very special project because it was a collaborative experience. Not only did Kim Su Jin create a brilliant foundation but she gave Director Shim Na Yeon* creative freedom to work with her crew and cast (especially Shin Ha Kyun and Yeo Jin Goo) to develop these characters and their story further.

Beyond Evil feels like a project that was made with so much care and a lot of love. I think it really shines through in the final product. * I just want to gush about Shim Na Yeon's directing style. I LOVE the way she conducted her sets. I LOVE that she got her actors to rehearse the scenes before shooting and that these rehearsals weren't rushed but were a collaborative experience, where the actors can discuss their character's actions, emotions, and intentions and give their opinion. I think they even changed and cut lines because the actors didn't feel it suited their characters. THAT is wonderful directing, that's how you get the best out of the experience. I just.... yeah.... the BTS videos are such a treat.

(from circulate900 on Twitter. Just further proof of what a great director Shim Na Yeon is)

I also love the ending of Beyond Evil, my only gripe is that I wish we got to see more of it within the run time of the episode. But I know why they only gave us snippets. At the end of the story, Joo Won gains a family - a real family - that not only loves him but accepts him. Yes and thank you, that is some of the best shit. Joo Won is so purposely icy and guarded. He has conditioned himself to protect himself by pushing others away. Oftentimes, the softest, most sensitive people - those who are really hurting - are the ones who behave like this because they can't stand to have their feelings hurt. I think that's very true of Joo Won.

So, for him to finally have a family that knows this about him and can see the soft gooey centre inside that icy façade and still say "Hey! We like that guy. He's ours. We'll nurture and protect him." GIVE ME 5 SEASONS OF THAT SHIT. I cannot express how much I adore the Manyang family and Joo Won's complicated place there. I will add that I don't believe it's going to be a future of endless happy families. I think Joo Won will distance himself many times, only be brought back in again. I think he'll often be absent for long periods of time (mostly for work) BUT there's always a seat saved for him by Dong Sik's side, and he knows that. Once he's sorted his mind out and has healed, I think he'll stick around and they'll have to spray bug repellent to get of the kid. (I can't find it right now but there is that screenshot of Yeo Jin Goo expressing the same belief) I kinda really like Joo Won's flirting because it's either subtle little teases and hints like the one you pointed out, or it's I'M GOING TO RAM "MY HORNS OF JUSTICE" INTO YOU. There doesn't seem to be a healthy middle ground and I just think that's rather silly and stupid (but charming, in a silly and stupid way).

But what I really love about the jwds dynamic is that Dong Sik can read Joo Won so effortlessly. (they're cut from the same cloth, they're two sides of the same coin, they're waiting for each other at either end of their red thread of fate, they're kindred spirits). He understands Joo Won on a level I don't think anyone ever has. He can read all of Joo Won's micro-expressions:

"Ah, a frown with pursed lips looking off the side? That means Joo Won is hungry"

"A sigh in a-flat minor? I wonder what he's confused about"

"A twitch of the right brow means I'm in trouble and a flick of the left brow.... well.... it means I'm in trouble 😏"

I'm being silly but you get what I'm trying to say. Dong Sik gets Joo Won and Joo Won wants to understand Dong Sik. Also, heelloooo, drop the details of that fanfic so I can live in post-canon flirty jwds bliss. Please and thank you 🙏 Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me. I love post-interlude and new beginnings Beyond Evil. I love on the cusp of spring, jwds looking like they might just love each other and forgive each other and want to grow past their trauma Beyond Evil. Don't get me wrong, I love the angst, sass and tears, I love the pain but I cherish the happy moments. I'm kind of sad that we're probably never going to see future Manyang. But it's a good sad because it means what we got is so beautiful and I want to know more. Thank god for fanfiction haha Thank you for your kind words. I appreciate you!!

[jinxthequeergirl]

Make A Deal With God

Chapter 3: Project Save Eddie

Eddie Munson X Hopper! reader

Summary: You rally the rest of the gang in order to find Eddie and piece together the danger thats approching hawkins

Warning: swearing, typical horror violence

Sorry this took so long motivation is hard 😔✌

~~~~~~~

   Eddie Munson was a lot of things. A freak? Sure. A loser? Ok fine. Highschool delinquents. Check. Upon many other things. But he was no Hero, in fact the only time he was a Hero was in imaginary situations where even then he only led and controlled the story instead of participating in it. 

Outside of that nothing interesting really happened to him, Of course until last night. He had the chance to Save Chrissy and not only failed but ran. 

Eddie grumbled to himself pulling leaves from his hair as he stumbled out of the woods onto a dirt road as he continued to run. 

He looked at the paper you shoved into his hands before pushing him from your house. "This sure is one way to get a chick's phone number." He mumbled folding it up and stuffing it in his pocket. There were quite a few things eating away at Eddie as he made his way down the path leading to what he was hoping was an abandoned house. 

One of those things being what he saw happen to chrissy and why it happened to her the other thing being you and how you somehow knew what happened before he could tell you and how you were somehow very calm about the situation. 

He pushed the door of the boat house open with a creek and sighed. "Home sweet home." 

He dropped the duffle bag on the ground and flopped beside it and began rummaging through it. 

Blankets, clothes, canned foods, a first aid kit and a lighter and a few small toys and comic books to keep any person occupied. He grabbed the walkie and tuned it to the channel you scribbled down.

But before attempting to call out for you he stopped. This was his mess. Why drag you further into it? You had done enough letting him stay with you overnight and giving him everything he needed to stay hidden for a few days, maybe weeks if he played his cards right. So instead he set the walkie back in the bag and grabbed a comic book. 

You on the other hand bounced your leg up and down nervously as you explained to Dustin only half of the events from last night. 

"Ok, run it back to me again." 

You sighed. "I saw Chrissy Cunningham Frozen in place before she started floating off the ground. That's it, Eddie woke me up at that point.

"And you said it was a past tense thing." 

You nodded curtly. 

"Eddie saw it and came and hid in my room immediately after that." 

"If it helps." Max spoke up. 

"It's probably nothing but a weird coincidence. But I did see the lights going crazy before Eddie ran out." You both turned to Max and Dustin took a deep breath. 

"So crazy lights, you're having strange visions again…and a strange murder…" 

It clicked and you wished it hadn't. "Just a coincidence?" You tried to suggest, hopeful.

You heard Dustin mock your statement and tone and in turn you flicked his bright yellow aura.

"Where is Eddie?We need to find him and figure this out.

"I uhh dunno he was supposed to walkie me once he got to his safe spot." You shrugged feeling around for your walkie. 

"How long has it been?" 

"Uhhh i dunno we left for here at uh-"

"8:30." Max answered. 

"8:30." You confirmed. "And its now-" 

"10." Dustin added 

"10. Great so..an hour and a half…he's not gonna tell me where he is and if he's safe is he?" 

You asked, realization dawned on you. 

"Nope." Dustin grabbed your hands and pulled you up to your feet. "Come on." 

"Where are we going?" Max asked. 

"To Start Project Save Eddie." Dustin responded

You held your head as you tried to explain everything to Robin and Steve After Dustin leapt over the counter to set up base. 

"Wait, Eddie Munson Was in your room?" Steve cut in. 

"Yes steve thats-" 

"So your visions are back mainly but they are like in the past?"

"Kinda? I'm not really sure that means they are visions-" 

"Did he sleep in your bed?" 

"Steve really?" You bounced between the two auras in front of you, Robin's energetic orange practically melting into Steve's melow blue. It made your head hurt, since you really only used your energy to see this way it was hard to focus on that and too much happening at once without losing your vision.

"If this is all happening does that mean-" 

"We don't know!" You hissed still trying to keep your composure.

"Guys! Guys! guys! Can we ask questions later and focus on the problem at hand?" 

Finay the two colors sit still and pull apart from each other making your two friends distinguishable from each other.  You sighed as they moved to help Dustin. 

"So you and Eddie The freak Munson?" 

Steve's voice asked. You huffed. "Be nice Harrington. He was in danger." 

Sometime after Starcourt, you broke it off with Steve on your own accord. Steve just seemed to want something you couldn't offer anymore. He was cool with it. You were cool with it. You both tried really hard to remain friends and nothing more. 

Steve still cared though, it was obvious in most things he did. Not counting breaking your plans multiple times.

"Is there anyone this guy isn't trying to replace me with?" He mumbled. You chuckled at him as he went to help Dustin and the others. 

"Y/n try the walkie to see if Eddie will respond to you." Dustin suggested. You nodded and grabbed it from Max and tested it out. 

"Munster hello? It's been well over 2 hours! You said you would let me know when you were safe, don't bullshit me Munster!"

Radio silence, you groaned and tried again. 

"If her weird visions are back maybe she can use them to find the freak?" Steve suggested. 

You could feel everyone's eyes on you and you gulped. The last time you tried that you were very well and able to see and came out completely opposite. 

"Just a peek while we try to find him our way?" Dustin basically pleaded. 

"Dustin I dunno if it's such a good idea..i mean-"

You could see his color dimming, you hated that you had to go and train yourself to be able to still read people like that. You sighed. 

"Max help me to the back room." 

You sat comfortably in the back room and listened as Max moved around you, setting up your walkie beside you so only static was autabile. 

"Are you sure about this?" Max asked, sitting in front of you. 

You gave a curt nod as she took your hands. "You know the procedure, just yank me out if it starts going south."

You took a deep breath and really focused. 

The first time you had a vision was around halloween, max had moved to town that year and you were picking out a costume to go trick or treating with Will in.

One second you stood in the costume section of the General store the next you weren't too far behind your younger friend as he stared at a darkened red sky above the arcade. 

You wished you could say you understood how your sister did it easily, no dizziness or feeling of whiplash, you wished you could say you mastered it and it got better before it got worse. But it never did and never will. You relished Those moments in between shutting your eyes and opening them to find you where now in a vast dark void where like nothing else. There was peace before The sudden chill and disoriented feeling you get when opening your eyes. 

It was dark but there was still this sort of light that illuminated you. You spun around slowly hoping to find something. Then suddenly you heard someone reading something familiar. 

You turned and saw Eddie sitting with your favorite issue of Batman in his hands reading it aloud in various voices. You passed through the water to him kneeling in front of him. He looked a lot different than you remembered from last time you saw him. 

"God is that really the shirt?" You asked. 

You heard Max laugh at you. "They make them themselves." 

"I can tell." You watched him run his hand along the Braille dustin taped to each page for you as he continued reading. Dustin had done a lot to help you with that stuff, labeling your DnD book, comic books, switches, doors and drawers in the house. You appreciated it, it definitely made the adjustment easier. 

"Can you tell where he is?" Max asked, cutting through your thoughts. You tore your gaze from him looking around the small area that was carved out around Eddie didn't look familiar. You took another deep breath trying to focus more on the surroundings. When you opened your eyes again you found that the room Eddie was in built itself around you. 

"It's…a boat house?" You said. Taking in what you could see. "A boat house?" Max repeated.

"Ok great, get outta there and let's go tell the others." She said, you could feel her tug on your hands letting you know it was time to come out.

You opened your mouth to tell her you were ready to be brought out when something caught your eye. "Hang on there's something else." You said. A large flame raged on, glowing in the darkness a few feet ahead of you. 

"Y/n no c'mon." You ignored her and walked over to the fire. 

Once you stepped in front of it you found yourself outside on the road leaving Hawkins, in front of you a scrawny boy with glasses stood frozen. 

"Hey kid, what are you doing?" He didn't answer, didn't move. 

"Kid?" You stepped forward reaching out to him. 

"Are you alright?" Once you touched his arm you were once again hurdled to a new setting. Being bounced back and forth made you nauseous, the solid impact of your body against the hard ground didn't help. 

You groaned and lifted your head being met with the edge of a deep grave. "Shit." You sat up and scrambled away to a safe distance. Carefully peering over the ledge so you wouldn't fall in. You could see the kid cowering against the walls hiding from something slowly making its way to him. 

"Hey!hey! Up here!" You tried to call him but he wasn't listening. 

"Hey-" your cries were caught in your throat once you saw what came through the otherside. You watched as the humanoid creature stepped towards the boy, reached out and snapped each and every bone in his body.

You gasped as you watched in horror, sitting up and scooting away completely. "I know you are here….y/n…I've been waiting for you." you got up and ran, nowhere in particular you just ran. "Max!! Max get me out of here! Max!" 

You managed to run back to the void. "Y/n!? Y/n!? Can you hear us!? Y/n wake up!" You felt max pull you hard enough you woke up.

Blackness consumed your vision as did the featureless colored figures. 

"Y/n What happened!?" 

"I...he Someone else is dead…" 

~~~~~~

Tag List:

@totallynotkaibiased

@felicityofbakerstreet

@chrissysgf

@geeksareunique

@sawendel

@just-stumbling-through-life

@slutforprentiss03

@althea-tavalas

@robots-scare-me

@tubble-wubble

@kik51199

[lollypopsx]

Flatmate!Harry: I'll Make It Up To You - Part 2

Please like if it’s not too shabby, reblog for anyone who may enjoy this and follow if you want to see more! Any suggestions are happily taken for future writing! I love you all! be safe and be kind x

Warnings: Hints of depression and anxiety

Part 1 - Part 3

—————————

Days had passed since the audition, and while you were sat on your laptop every hour searching for new jobs, new projects, more auditions and pure hope of some miracle, you couldn't help but starting to feel like you were failing slightly.

You liked to write happy songs and create stories using your music, but you were finding it harder to find the inspiration. Usually you and Harry would sit and talk ideas for hours, but since he made you miss your audition, you were distant from him, it was only the last day or two that you had been getting slowly back to normal.

Every day since the incident when Harry came home after working at the studio, he would open the curtains to make sure you had fresh air and daylight after cooping yourself up on the sofa all day, in the dimly lit living room. Not only that, he would check the cupboards, fridge and the sink to check that you were eating enough. He had seen you stressed and upset before. He had been there through some difficult moments in your life, and had always been your rock throughout the years, especially when your mental health was struggling during these times. But this time was worse. He couldn't help being concerned for someone he loved and cared for.

"Hey pumpkin..." He whispers softly, settling himself down beside you after completing his daily routine "Have you done much today?" he gently combs his fingers through your hair before dropping his arm round your shoulders.

You just sigh softly, looking ahead blankly at the quiet TV, simply shaking your head. If only he could see what was going on in that pretty mind of yours then maybe he could make everything better.

"I see you used the piano and the guitar today though..." he states, although it came out more like a question.

Minutes of silence filled the room until out of the blue, some words left your lips. "...Adam came to get the ring today" you whisper, feeling the tears brim your eyes once again, for what felt like the millionth time today.

"Oh darling" He frowns, pulling you into his chest tightly, just like he did the night you found out your (now ex-) boyfriend, Adam, was cheating on you. Unfortunately, you happened to find out minutes before he proposed to you, in front of all of your friends, including Harry. You didn't know what to do, so you took the ring, said you'd think about it and you left him standing alone. This all happened months ago, and you really thought that you was totally over it.

"Everything that's happened this week...I-I just...I feel like such a failure Haz. It just feels like I...I-I'm falling...falling apart and nothings going right! Why isn’t anything going right! I can’t even write one stupid song that makes sense" you let out hard sobs as your hands fisted his clean white t-shirt.

"No...no, no, no don't say that...please don't ever say that." He frowns, pulling away from you, but still staying close. His warm hands press against your cheeks as he lifts your face gently "hey, hey look at me" he whispers, begging you to look at him.

Your sad wide eyes flickered up into his, gentle tears falling down your face. "I know...I know it's hard at the moment. But everything happens for a reason. And everything will get better...I know it will. Do you trust me?" He whispers, his eyes gazing deep into yours, almost like if he looked hard enough, he could read your mind.

You give a hesitant nod as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before wiping the tears dampening your cheeks. Being affectionate together wasn't anything unusual for the two of you, you really were the best of friends.

"I'll go make some dinner okay? Pasta sound good?" You just nod your head gently at him as he leaves your side. You let out a deep sigh and head over to the living room window, watching the sunrise beginning to set over the busy London town. "So...how's the studio going?" You ask him curiously, your gaze still at the window.

"I erm..." He clutters around in the kitchen. His job was a topic he had been avoiding for the last few days. He didn't want to rub it in that he was busy writing an album for millions of fans, who would be screaming his lyrics back to him all over the world in years to come. "It's...good. I mean, its tiring but I...yeah. It's good" He nods.

"H, you don't have to avoid it. I forgive you for what happened. I know you would never have done it out of spite...and you deserve your life style, you work hard!" You say as you head into the kitchen, re-filling the water in the vase on the table, your vibrant roses and lilies still looking as beautiful as the first day Harry bought them for you.

"You work hard too!" He frowns softly "Harry I don't think moping around on the sofa, drowning in my sorrows, is the definition of working hard" You let out a gentle chuckle.

"So...how's it really going?" You hop up onto the stool beside the kitchen counter.

"Well, we have 4 songs so far...and they are...different to the last album. I mean they reckon three of them will be on the pop charts...maybe even a number one slot there" He sighs softly.

"Oh wow, that does sound different to before...and you...don't want that?" You ask curiously, judging by the lack of excitement. "Well...it's not that. I just...it's hard to write another album when the last one did well, and you have to make sure it's better than the last one." He sighs softly as he cooks. "They want me to write some slower, more emotional songs. I just can't...well the words don't fit right. I'm just not feeling emotional about anything, so I don't know where to get the emotion from"

"Well you can't put a price on emotion Haz, you can't just go and buy it in Gucci. You have to really feel it. Even if you aren't thinking about something specific or direct to you. I used to find that sometimes when I was trying to write, I'd create these characters in my head, and I'd give them all these different stories and personalities. And I...I used that to really help me write music. It's not easy." You explain while getting two of the plates from the cupboard and pouring two drinks for the table.

"You used to? You mean you don't use that method anymore?" He asks curiously, while giving the pasta one final stir.

"I...I think I've decided that I'm not going to write music anymore" You shrug softly, your eyes unable to life to his. "I need a proper job. And things aren't going well with auditions lately and I make a total fool out of myself every time I go into a meeting. It's time I looked for a proper job. Besides, the price of bills in this house keeps going up and up."

"What?! Y/N you're so good at writing songs and music! You can't throw it all away now! That is your proper job. And I love hearing what you write, it inspires my own stuff!" He frowns, his brow furrowing, trying to understand you. "Think of all the songs no one will get to hear"

"No one hears them anyway...It's different now. The entertainment industry is changing more and more by the day. Maybe the stuff I write just isn't as trendy anymore." It was difficult for you to admit, but you knew you had to accept it.

"There's a fine line between us Styles, because the difference is, you're already there. You have the whole world in your hands Haz, you can go anywhere and do anything. You could sing a song to a fish and the whole world would be adored by you still! If I did something like that...I'd be laughed out of every interview, audition and meeting for the rest of my life. But we’ll be alright" You smile and shrug, your mood had certainly been hit and miss the last few days, but you knew you had to carry on with your life.

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“Hey Y/N come here!” Harry calls from the living room. You were currently in your room, scrolling through your Instagram, while in a pasta coma after dinner. You rush over to the living room “What’s up?” You ask, seeing him sat at the gleaming white piano, which as always was sat under the window.

“What do you think?” He starts to play a few notes on the piano, looking between the scruffy paper notes cluttering the top of the piano and his hands. 

“Can’t put a price on emotion...it’s something that you just can’t buy...you...you’ve got my devotion...but....but” He sighs softly, playing around with the notes and the wording on his notes. 

You smile softly as you recognise his acknowledgment of your earlier conversation “...but man, I can hate you sometimes” you sing gently, testing to see how it could fit.

“Hey that’s mean! Why would you say that!” He fakes a pout up at you “I thought we- hey actually...you’re right! That really fits!” He chuckles, pulling you onto the stool beside him. “Can you try a G chord, B chord and....lets try a C...” You nod and smile as your fingers gloss over the keys effortlessly, while Harry fits the verse together and tries to find the right tempo.

“Wait...it doesn’t sound right. Maybe lets try a D instead of C?” You suggest as you re-try, playing those three chords over and over again.

“You...are...a genius!” He grins and wraps his arms around your waist. ”Keep going!” He smirks, pushing more lyrics in front of you. Sometimes having a fresh pair of eyes really helped...or perhaps he just wanted to prove that you had talent.

You peer down at the pages upon pages of words flooding your view. “...I don’t want to fight with you....and I...and I don’t like to sleep in the dark...we’ll get the drinks in...I...I can’t stop thinking of her...” 

Harrys fingers join yours at the piano “We’ll be a fine line....We’ll be a fine line...”He smiles softly as he taps on a few random keys. 

You pull your fingers away gently “It...your song sounds...really good H. It’s beautiful actually.”

 “You mean our song...” He whispers.

“Harry no, it’s your song, all the pieces, I just put your jigsaw together” You smile. “I know how it is writing songs and the first draft is never the same as the final version. You might decide to change it all completely” You whisper.

“Not with your lyrical genius ability and words of wisdom...your name will be all over this track” You felt a shock of electricity ripple through your veins as you felt his eyes burning into yours. His lips pressed gently against your forehead, lingering against your skin longer than usual. That sort of affection was normal from your best friend...so why did it just feel like something completely different? And what did he mean about my name being all over the track?

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Tag List: @harryhoney-bee - @sunandherflores - @sad-capuccino

[imagines-hoarder]

House Warming - Bucky Barnes

Summary: Hopping through some standout moments in making Bucky's apartment a place worth coming home to. (This definitely could have been a headcanon but I refuse to do headcanons at this time.)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 2.6 k

Warnings: fluff with a lil angst

A/N: I have finished all the assignments left for my degree and decided to sit down and write today. This is probably trash but idc because it has been written and therefore I may as well release it. It's been a while since I've written and years since I've truly tried dipping my foot into a different fandom, but I figured I'd give it ago. Please don't forget to leave comments, I love interacting with y'all. Thank you @bwbatta​ for the dividers! xoxox

Masterlist

It all started with a damn candle. A ‘sandalwood & vanilla orchid’ candle tucked away in a reused cyan jar.

“I found it at the art market down the street last weekend,” you said as you placed it in the corner of the living room window. “You know we have to support local business.”

“And I shouldn’t assume this is your way of telling me my place smells, right?” Bucky quipped from the kitchen island, a cup of coffee in his hand and a lazy smile on his face. He’d just gotten back from a 12-day mission with Sam, and the last thing he had on his to-do list was to buy candles.

The smile grew firmer as you put yourself into his arms. “Complete opposite, actually. I bought it cause I thought it smelled just like you.” You hid your face within his chest, and he thanked the stars that you couldn’t see the warmth rising in his cheeks. His barren apartment felt a little bigger with a candle in the windowsill.

From there it became decorative pillows… and a couch to hold them. The small living room had quickly become a mess by the time you both had brought it up to his fourth-floor apartment, furniture wrap and packing peanuts strewn everywhere.

“I still don’t know why you needed to buy a sofa this big,” Bucky grumbled as he leaned over the back of the beige three-seater, looking down at your splayed out across its cushions.

“Don’t get me wrong, babe. I love the transient bachelor look you’ve got going on here, but you need more furniture than an armchair,” you mumbled between heavy breaths as you tried to regain control from maneuvering the couch into the apartment.

“And the pillows?” A laugh fell from your lips as you watched him look at the indigo cushions with a remarkable amount of disdain. Who buys pillows made just to look nice on a couch?

“They add character.”

“I didn’t think character was an area we were lacking in. Transient bachelor, remember?” He walked around the couch and shifted you over so he could lay beside you. You instinctively curled into him as you both closed your eyes. For a second the place felt like home. “I also don't know how you plan for us both to fit on this couch every day along with the pillows.”

“Don’t worry about it,” You looked up from his chest with a mischievous glint that made his heart skip. “It’s a pullout bed too. I’m sure it’ll be firm enough even for you.”

The home improvements didn’t stop there, but Bucky refused to admit how much he enjoyed them.

He liked having a place and person to come home to. After you had bought neutral bedding for his room, you’d spent an evening putting together ‘his and hers’ trestle bookcases for either side of the bed. He’d try to keep up his crabbish demeanor as you argued that ‘you needed a place to set your books for when you slept over,’ and a side table could no longer contain the small collection you had spilling over. Even still, he couldn’t find it in himself to banter much about the minor changes you made to make the place feel lived in.

And God, did he love living with you around. Between missions, his continued therapy, and trying to find his place in a world that had tripled in opportunity since his youth, he knew that he never had to question who he was and where he fit in when he walked through that door. You still occasionally slept at your own apartment when he was away, but he could always count on you being asleep in his bed by the time he came home.

One toothbrush in a glass became two, and from there, hand creams, face masks, and cotton pads cluttered the bathroom counter, packed away in their clear containers. You had made sure to keep lavender bath salts on hand for the late-night baths you took together when he woke up in a panic, unable to close his eyes again for fear of falling back into a nightmare.

It took time and working through plenty of hesitation before Bucky could progress from sleeping on the pull-out sofa to the bed, but ever since, you found your nights attended by restlessness whenever you weren’t wrapped in his arms.

Once your lease was up and you had a lengthy conversation about your inability to rest without him, you quickly filled the apartment with brown boxes. Bucky had been no less than astounded by how much you fit into them. From then on, no nook or cranny was without a vase or shelf.

“How many mugs does one house need,” Bucky asked skeptically while he continued to carefully pull them from their paper wrappings.

“Oh, come on! They’re fun!” You exclaimed, wrapping an arm around his waist as you took the Charlie Brown mug from his metal palm. “Plus, we go through enough coffee around here to justify some extra mugs.”

After you put the mug into the lowest shelf of the cabinet, you busied yourself with filing away the spices one cabinet over. No matter how much he tried, Bucky couldn’t pull his eyes away from you, lost in your own world as you chipped away at unpacking your belongings, making yours his, and vice versa. The domesticity in the little things you did was something he could get used to, and he wanted to return the feeling of normalcy as much as he could. He was far from the average boyfriend, but you remind him that could be a good thing. You never wanted to be average, but in these small moments, as you both did what normal couples do, he felt that he could create a new normal with you.

“So your Christmas gift came in already, and it’s too big to hide.” Your awkward tone carried over the phone as he exited a station ten minutes away from the apartment. Even though his neck ached and the cold nipped at the top of his ears, he couldn’t stop himself from releasing a breathy laugh.

“I thought you said you were good at this gift-giving thing, doll,” he teased you as he maneuvered his way to your shared apartment.

“Oh, don’t you fret, baby. I am the best gift-giver in all of New York City. I just slightly miscalculated how big this thing was and have realized it won’t fit into our closet.”

He tsked with a smirk on his face. “If you say so.”

“Hey, you gave me my Christmas gift a week ago.”

“Yeah, that’s because I didn’t know if I’d be back before Christmas.”

“Well, you will be, and I’m glad you are,” your voice softened lovingly as he pulled out his keys to the front of the building.

Bucky had gotten used to your love, but he’d vow to never take it for granted. All the pain he’d endured had somehow led him to you, the person who didn’t see his broken pieces as a burden or a project but as a potential to be whatever he desired.

When he hung up the call and unlocked the apartment, his brows furrowed into one; the apartment was pitch black. It was only when he heard your soft footstep walking towards the entrance that his face relaxed.

Before he could even kiss you, you had your palms firmly placed over his eyes. “No peeking; your gift is in the living room.”

The uncertainty in what you could have got him made his stomach clench. “Is it an animal?”

You slowly dragged him through the front hallway, making sure to avoid crashing into the entryway storage table. “I’m sorry to say it’s not alive.”

“Is it a nice welcome-home spread with candles, fruit, and the pullout bed all set up?”

He could feel your eyes roll to completion. “Easy there, sergeant. That’s for later.” You pulled him down to sit on the couch, and he kept his eyes closed as you pulled your palms away, moving to turn on a lamp. “Okay, Buck. open up.”

When he opened his eyes, it took him a moment to understand what he was seeing nestled against the wall; when he did recognize it, he could only form two words “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit indeed.”

He was quick to stand up and cross the room, eager to get a good look at the walnut centerpiece. “Does it work?”

You scoffed as you moved to kiss his cheek. “What kind of girlfriend would get her ancient boyfriend a broken phonograph console?”

He didn’t even attempt to answer as he bent down to wrap his arms around you, his lips eager to find yours. “A fucking Magnavox radio and phonograph,” he mumbled against your lips.

“A working Magnavox radio and phonograph, you mean.” When you pulled away and saw that his face held a glow reserved only for special occasions, you knew you had made the right choice. “I’ve got some records wrapped up if you want to open those now too.”

You yelped in surprise as he picked you up and made his way towards your bedroom. “I’ve got something else I’d like to unwrap first.”

Bucky Barnes had grown up in a period when the average family could seldom afford nice things or much of anything at all. The Great Depression has resulted in the slogan ‘Make it do or Do without,” being ingrained into what memories he still had, and 'doing without' had become commonplace for the Barnes household.

That’s why every gadget and gizmo you added to your household left him in awe. For much of his life, including the decades he spent as a weapon for Hydra, he hadn’t been allowed to call anything his own; he was still getting used to living so plentifully, both in love and in life. But now, he could barely move and he thought it had all been taken away from him.

The attack was supposed to have been contained, at least three miles away from the apartment. Anything less, and he would have made you visit your family upstate instead of just suggesting it. By the time Sam had told him that there’d been some confirmed damage within a block of the apartment, Bucky was already on his way home. He couldn’t think of anything but the worse: you trapped in a collapsing apartment building or pulling up to find no building there at all.

He felt his lungs fill with air again as he pulled up to your building, completely intact regardless of the severe damage less than a five-minute walk away. It felt like both seconds and hours between when he parked his outside and unlocked the front door.

“He doesn’t have his phone on him, mom. How am I supposed to…” you trailed off from your call as he walked into the living room, turning your head away from the Breaking News report you’d been glued to for the last hour. “Wait, I’ll call you back. Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll call you back.” Your eyes never left his as he walked over to you, hanging up the phone with worry in your eyes. “Buck, are you oka-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before he pulled you off of the couch and into his arms. His grip was less reserved than he usually kept, but he made sure not to hurt you, eager to keep you in his arms, where he knew you were safe. A single tear fell from the corner of his eyes as he realized the real possibility that he could have lost you if you lived even 5 minutes closer to the attack. You stayed like that for a while, gathered tightly in his arms as you both settled onto the floor You didn’t push him to verbalize his fear; you already understood it. And it took this occurrence for him to realize he never wanted to experience this feeling again.

Bucky was quiet for the rest of the evening, and while it worried you, his fear had been evident enough not to require questioning. The city-wide cleanup had lasted all hours of the night; for the first time in all the years you had lived in the city, the sounds of the whirring of vehicles clearing debris off the street had been too close to ignore. The sun was rising before a single word was said between you and Bucky, tangled together on the sofa as the first ray of light made itself known.

“You’ve spent so much time piecing this place together, doll.” His voice was raspy. You know he hates when you see him cry, but his pain was always evident in his voice. “And it could have been all wiped away in seconds.” You let a heavy silence settle between you as you traced a pattern into his shoulder. He couldn’t bear to say it, but you knew what he meant: You could have been gone within seconds. “I just… I don’t ever want to feel like this again.”

You’d both gone through so much to make your relationship work. Nearly normal was as close as you would ever attain to being an average couple. The distance, the days without contact, and the ever-present fear that anything could pull you away from one another was something that had taken time to work through.

You looked around the living room and saw the place you had built together. There were photos and books scattered on any flat surface, a leftover mug half-filled with cold tea, and a record left out on the phonograph. The apartment looked like what love felt like; a messy combination of everything you and Bucky. But this apartment could not contain everything that ‘home’ was; only Bucky could do that.

The words fell from your mouth before you could restrain them. “Maybe we should move.”

Your eyes found each other, and you both sat in silence, though it felt lighter, invigorated with the new proposition.

Before he even responded, you could see tension dissolve from his shoulders. “Where do you want to move?”

You hadn’t thought that far ahead, only being able to provide him with a shrug. “I don’t know… maybe upstate, maybe somewhere else.”

“Your mom would like you being Upstate.”

“My mom would love us living next door too, but I don’t see that in the cards anytime soon.” You got a ghost of a smile for that.

“We could probably afford a house if we moved out there,” he said as he moved his lips to meet your forehead.

“Buck, I’d move anywhere with you. As long as we have each other, then we have all we need to rebuild this place.”

He pressed soft kisses to the crown of your head, and you swore you felt his chest flutter. “Tomorrow, I’m gonna look for some places, bigger ones too.” He tilted your head up to find your eyes, and you were sure that all of the love you carried for each other was incredibly visible at that moment. “You have made this apartment something worth coming home to. Now let me give you a house to make a home.” Your skin tingled with adoration as you pulled him as close as possible, burying your face into his neck.

You didn’t want to let go. You wanted to lay in this room, in this bed, and in this moment until the end of time, but you knew that something bigger and better was on the horizon for you and Bucky.

“All I heard is that you’re buying me a house.” His laugh was music to your ears.