#working all night and staggering on his feet but of course hes going to help anyone he can

[martyrbat]

batman #222

(ID in alt!)

[kbwrites]

Collision Course

synopsis: Ryomen Sukuna, heavyweight champion and your ex-boyfriend gets a wake up call when he is injured for the first time during a fight.

⚝content: boxer!Sukuna x f!reader, reader is a physiotherapist, slight angst, nsfw, choking, Toji beating Sukuna's ass bc I said so

⚝wc: 2.4k

⚝a/n: working on the requests I've gotten in the past month. This one was fun!

Ryomen Sukuna, the heavyweight champion of the world, stood in the center of the ring, his piercing gaze locked onto his opponent his focus was razor-sharp, body coiled like a spring. The crowd’s roar surged around him, but his eyes were fixed on one man—Toji Fushiguro, his gaze dark and unreadable. This wasn’t just a match—it was a reckoning, a confrontation years in the making.

The bell rang, and the arena erupted. Ryomen moved like a predator, his punches fast and lethal. But Toji met every strike with equal force, counters precise, his movements a dance of calculated power. Each round was a brutal display of skill, neither willing to back down, the anticipation in the crowd building with every punch.

Then, in the eighth round, it happened. Sukuna, sensing victory within reach, unleashed a devastating hook aimed at Toji’s jaw. His muscles coiled with the familiar rush of adrenaline, a primal drive to end the fight. But Toji, with an unsettling calm, sidestepped the attack with almost supernatural precision. In that split second of realization, Sukuna's heart pounded, the moment feeling like slow motion. With a swift sidestep, he avoided the blow and delivered a crushing punch directly to Sukuna’s shoulder. The sound of the impact was sickening—a sharp crack that seemed to echo through the arena. Pain flared instantly, his arm falling limp as he staggered back, the once unbreakable champion now vulnerable.

The crowd’s roar turned into a collective gasp. He gritted his teeth, the realization dawning that he was injured—seriously so.

The world spun, a dizzying blur of lights and colors. The roar of the crowd was a distant murmur. His mind struggled to make sense of the situation, the sharp sting of defeat sinking in as he replayed the moment Toji’s punch landed.  That scar-faced grin, a haunting image in the corner of his mind, lingered as he was wheeled through the narrow corridor.

This wasn’t happening. It had to be some nightmare. But it wasn’t… Ryomen, the undefeated champion–had been defeated.

The doors to the medical suite swing open, and your eyes see something they'd never dreamed of. Ryomen Sukuna on a stretcher, holding his shoulder as his face contorted in pain. You walked over to him, helping the medic team move him to a table.

As Sukuna settled onto the table, his gaze met yours you glanced at him with a wry smile and said, “I thought you said you don’t lose.”

He grins through the pain, his normal confidence shining through. 

“You know I can’t stay away from you for too long.”

𖥔 ִ ་  ، ˖ ࣪  ་  ˖  ʿ𖥔 ִ ་  ، ˖ ࣪  ་  ˖  ʿ𖥔 ִ ་  ، ˖ ࣪  ་  ˖  ʿ

It was never going to work. That’s what you told yourself. He was in a different world from you completely, one full of glitz and glory, a realm of raw power and relentless ambition. You had tried to convince yourself that the divide was too vast, that his world and yours were irreconcilable. But every night, as you laid next to him, it all seemed to blur, if only for a moment.

The clock ticked past midnight, you sat on the counter of your apartment’s kitchen. Eating the cup noodles as you swung your feet lazily. He had sworn he would be home early, that tonight would be different, that he’d finally make time for you amidst his whirlwind schedule.

And yet here you were. Waiting for him. Again.

The sudden clatter of keys and the turn of the doorknob sliced through the silence of your apartment. You rolled your eyes, finishing the last of your ramen with a resigned sigh.

The door swung open, and Sukuna walked in, his presence as commanding as ever. Without missing a beat, he headed straight for the kitchen where you sat. His gaze softened slightly as he approached, a smirk playing on his lips. Without hesitation, he reached for you, his lips descending toward yours in a kiss that was supposed to bridge the gap his absence had created. But as his lips neared, you caught the sharp tang of alcohol on his breath.

You pulled back just slightly, a flicker of irritation crossing your face. “You’re late,” you said, your tone a mixture of frustration and fatigue.

Ryomen, still maintaining his confident demeanor, shrugged as if it were no big deal. “Had a long night,” he said bluntly, his voice laced with a casual charm that only made your blood boil.

Without a word, you slipped off the counter and turned away, heading towards the living room. The anger you had tried to suppress now surged to the surface, and you could feel your pulse quickening with every step.

The pink-haired boxer followed, his irritation rising as he caught up to you. “What’s the problem now?” he demanded, his voice sharp.

You keep walking, refusing to face him “There’s no problem.”

He stepped in front of you, blocking your path. “Don’t play games with me.” He warns.

You met his gaze, the space between you crackling with tension. “I’m not playing games.” you shot back, your voice tight.

Sukuna’s jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with anger. “What do you want from me, woman? You think I can just drop everything and cater to your every whim?”

His crimson eyes bore into yours, you felt the beat of your heart in your chest. He closed the gap, your chest pressing against his broad one.

“I’m tired.” You grit your teeth, glaring up at your boyfriend.

“If you’re so tired of this, then why the hell are you still here waiting for me?”

His proximity and the rawness of his gaze made your heart pound even harder. The tension between you was palpable, the argument morphing. Without thinking, you closed the gap between you, your lips crashing into his with a fervor born of frustration and longing.

Sukuna responded with equal passion, his grip on you tightening as he deepened the kiss. The fight in his touch gave way to an urgent need, the argument transforming into a fierce, all-consuming embrace. The anger, the pain, and the desire all melded together, creating a storm of emotion that swept over both of you.

You walk backward to your bed, the back of your knees hitting the bed frame. Ryomen’s larger frame pushed you onto the bed, trapping you between his arms. He was rough in the ring—even rougher in bed.

His lips left your now bruised ones, moving immediately to your neck. His teeth leaving small bites along your pulse point—tongue darting out to soothe the pain. Your soft moans and whimpers echo in his ears. He rolls his hips into yours, his erection grinding against the growing wet spot in your panties.

“F-fuck… Ryo” You breathe as he unclasped your bra. His mouth latches to your nipple, expert tongue swirling around the swollen bud. His eyes flutter shut as he loses himself in your chest.

Rough hands roam your body, touch setting your skin ablaze.

Ryomen tugs your panties to the side, thick finger gathering your slick before plunging into your sopping wet cunt. He pumps in and out, mouth switching to your other nipple as his digits explore your gummy walls.

“S-shitshitshit Ryomennn~” You whine as your back arches into him. He picks up the pace, fingers scissoring inside of you as your hole clenched around him. He releases your nipple, burying his head into the crook of your neck.

“Heh… thought you were tired.” His voice rumbles against your skin. If you weren’t so close to cumming you would’ve cussed his ass out but–

With an expert curl of his finger your vision goes hazy as you cum on his fingers. Not even giving you a minute to recover, he replaces his thick digits with the fat head of his cock.

He slides his throbbing length up and down your folds, tip kissing your clit before pushing into your tight entrance.

“Oh fuucckkk.” You whine as the stretch causes tears to prick your eyes. Ryomen hooks your legs over his broad shoulders. He reaches between your bodies to rub your clit, slow deliberate circles as his thick member is swallowed by your walls. He lets out a low groan as he bottoms out.

“Think you can… keep this fuckin’ pussy from me?” He mumbles slamming into your cunt, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he moves your legs from his shoulders to your ears. He loved folding you in half. You loved it too.

His pace was relentless, you felt every vein of his cock brush against your gummy walls. He always made you feel deliciously full. His large hand wraps around your neck, pressing gently on the sides.

“C-close Ryo–” You choke out.

“Oh yeah?” He smirks, feeling you flutter around him. He fucks you through your orgasm, reveling in the way your body writhed and shook underneath him. He felt the tightening in his balls as he pulled out. He removed his hand from your neck, wrapping it tightly around his cock.

He pumped a few times, thick ropes of hot cum decorated your stomach. His now sensitive tip smearing it around your tummy. Your chest heaves as your try to catch your breath, his crimson eyes raking over you. How delicious you looked out of breath–covered in his seed.

After wiping you down he lays next to you, resting his back against the headboard.  You turned onto your side, gaze tracing the lines of your boyfriend's face. His gaze fixed on you with tired eyes. Even now, in the quiet aftermath, that world tugged at him, pulling him away from you, bit by bit. You could feel it in the way he looked at you, a mix of weariness and resignation as if he knew this moment was fleeting, a brief respite before he had to dive back into the chaos that always seemed to follow him.

You reached out, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. For a brief moment, his gaze softened. His hand covered yours, warm and reassuring.

“You checkin’ my vitals doc?” he teased, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. But even that couldn’t mask the exhaustion in his voice.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You question softly, he would never tell you the truth–you knew this. But all the late nights, the endless grind—it would catch up to him eventually. He didn’t answer, just closed his eyes, his larger hand tightening over yours.

And as if on cue, the buzz of his phone shattered the fragile peace, pulling him away from you once more. He let out a sigh, grabbing the phone from the nightstand.

“I’ve got to go,” he muttered, voice flat as he moved to the edge of the bed.

You blinked, the sudden shift jarring. “What? Why? It’s the middle of the night.”

He sighed, grabbing his jacket. “Uraume needs me to make an appearance. Some sponsor event they couldn’t reschedule.”

You wanted to argue, to tell him to stay, but the words caught in your throat, weighed down by exhaustion. You were so tired—tired of fighting, tired of being second to everything else in his life. Instead, you just watched him get dressed, the silence between you stretching thin.

“Go, do what you have to do.” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. ”

Sukuna paused, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual, as if he wanted to say something. But he didn’t. Instead, he nodded and turned away, leaving you alone with the cold emptiness that settled in his absence.

It was never going to work. That’s what you kept telling yourself.

𖥔 ִ ་  ، ˖ ࣪  ་  ˖  ʿ𖥔 ִ ་  ، ˖ ࣪  ་  ˖  ʿ𖥔 ִ ་  ، ˖ ࣪  ་  ˖  ʿ

The memory faded, leaving behind a dull ache in your chest. You blinked, pulling yourself back to the present. Ryomen looked up at you from the examination table, his crimson eyes still holding that same piercing intensity.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself as you focused on his injury, your hands moving with practiced precision. Despite your efforts to detach, to keep things strictly professional, you couldn’t ignore the way his gaze followed your every move or the subtle tension in his jaw.

“You must be loving this, huh? Seeing me like this.” His tone was harsh, almost daring you to pity him, his arrogance a brittle shield against the humiliation gnawing at him.

“I know you better than those people out there–you’re gonna be fine.” You say calmly.

He chuckles dryly. “You might be the only one that thinks that right now.”

A moment of quiet settled over the medical suite as you continued your examination. The soft hum of the lights overhead and the occasional shuffle of your movements were the only sounds breaking the tense silence. You carefully touched his shoulder, feeling for the extent of the damage.

Sukuna winced, his face momentarily contorting with the sharp flare of pain. His breathing grew shallow, and he looked away, clearly trying to mask his discomfort behind a mask of indifference.

“You've torn your rotator cuff,” you said, your voice steady despite the weight of the news. You could see the frustration in his eyes, the pride that struggled to keep his embarrassment at bay.

“Rotator cuff?” he repeated, his tone a mix of irritation and disbelief.

“Yes,” you confirmed, examining the area with a practiced touch. “It’s a significant injury, but with proper treatment and rehabilitation, you’ll recover. It’ll take some time and effort, but it’s manageable.”

Sukuna’s jaw tightened, and he clenched his teeth, trying to hide the strain. “Great,” he muttered, his voice taut with frustration. “Just what I needed.”

He looked at you with a mixture of exasperation and reluctant admiration.

“I was… an ass to you.” He mumbles.

“You were.” your tone matter-of-fact.

“Alright...” He warned, taking a deep breath.

“If I’m going to be stuck with this damn injury, I might as well have someone who knows what they’re doing handling it.”

He gave you a sideways glance, a mix of challenge and an unspoken request in his eyes. Despite his bravado, there was a trace of acknowledgment in his words, an unspoken plea for your help.

As you nodded, accepting his challenge with a wry smile, a familiar ache settled in your chest. You knew, deep down, that no matter how many times you tried to distance yourself, you could never really be done with him. The stubborn part of you that cared too much, that felt the pull of his presence like gravity, couldn’t quite let go.

“Let’s get you back in the ring.”

[sashaisready]

Starting Over: Chapter 4 - Build

Mob!Bucky x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

When Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending.

Me again! We’re back. Sorry I know I keep adding new parts but I’ve broken up the final chapter into two as it just keep going and this is a huge bumper one (sorry). I promise there genuinely will only be one more looool. Thanks again for all of your reblogs/comments/love for this story, it means a lot!!

💔

Lou had welcomed you back with open arms, fixing you up with a waitress job at the diner. Of course he had. Lou was like the father you’d never had. His love was one of the few constants in your life.

Mercifully, he didn’t ask you much about Bucky, didn’t chastise you for making a bad choice and getting involved with a mob boss. That wasn’t what Lou was about. He knew that ‘I told you so’ served no purpose, he knew that you were a big girl and there was nothing he could tell you that you didn’t already know yourself. So why bother? All that mattered was that you were here, and you needed him. He would always catch you when you fell.

Going back to waitressing didn’t feel like you’d taken a step back or that you’d somehow failed, if anything it was quite nice to see this former version of your life once more. And you’d missed chatting with the regulars, helping Lou with the accounts, occasionally fighting small fires (both metaphorical and very occasionally, literal). With Bucky you didn’t need to work, which was nice in one way, but you’d missed the structure and purpose your old job had given you. You previously had no interest in daily gossipy lunches with the other mob wives, and there was only so much shopping you could do.

“How did we ever cope without you?” Lou had asked one morning after you’d successfully chased and caught a dine and dasher, and saved hundreds of dollars on the power bill after negotiating a new contract. All before 10am.

You grinned, “I feel the same way about this place”.

You had moved in with Wanda, she had insisted - despite your protests. She and her boyfriend, Vis, gave you the spare room and said you could stay until you got back on your feet. It was small and full of all the extra stuff they couldn’t fit elsewhere in their apartment, but you didn’t care. You would’ve been happy with the couch, or a sleeping bag on the floor.

Nat was equally helpful, sorting you out by buying new clothes and shoes in your size and giving you some of the toiletries and make-up she didn’t use. She even cut and restyled your hair (‘because hair holds memories’, she told you) and took on whichever role you needed. Sometimes that was nights on her couch crying as she held you, other times it was hitting up the bars and trying to forget. She did it all. She had come and got you that morning at the hotel, after you sent her a frantic message from the rickety computer explaining what had happened. She told you she’d be there in 30 minutes…but ended up doing the trip in 20.

One afternoon a week or so later, Bucky’s men radioed him to let them know that there was a redhead in a Mercedes at the front gates demanding to speak to him. She wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’d sighed as he saw her familiar face on the security monitor and told them to let her in. He knew this day would come. He dismissed them, they didn’t need to be here for this.

Nat had parked up and casually exited the car, strolling across the patio as Bucky stood in the doorway and waited for the inevitable. She didn’t keep him waiting long, slugging him across the jaw with a sharp ‘thwack’ causing him to stagger back against the doorframe.

“Got it. Anything else to say?” he groaned.

She nodded and then kneed him hard in the groin, turning on her heel as she left him in a crumpled heap and ambled back to her car.

“I warned you this would happen if you hurt her”, she called out calmly without looking back.

“Always good to see you, Nat”, Bucky managed to eke out as she slammed the car door.

The generosity of them all was overwhelming, you knew how lucky you were. It’s often said that you don’t know who your true friends are until you fall on hard times, and your friends had proved themselves tenfold. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to repay their kindness.

💔

It had been about six weeks since the night at the hotel when he started coming to the diner. No goons or hangers-on, just him. Which was almost unheard of, given his position.

The first time was a Friday morning, around 9am. He sat in the corner booth, head buried in the menu.

“I can kick him out, hon’, I’m not scared of him”, Lou had snarled as he glared over at the man in the booth.

“It’s okay, Lou. I can handle him,” you told him gently, giving his arm a reassuring stroke.

You took a deep breath as you approached his table. You couldn’t see his face, just his hands, an eerie mirror of the first time you’d met.

“What can I get you?” you asked as you readied your pad and pen, your voice surprisingly even, in spite your stomach’s somersaults.

He lowered the menu slowly and you couldn’t deny it was good to see him again. His blue eyes shone, the former dusting of stubble over his chin and jawline now a fuller beard - just as tantalising as it had always been. A few strands of his hair had come away from the carefully styled gel, framing his face perfectly. Some of your former anger towards him bubbled away beneath the surface, but you couldn’t deny you had also missed him. You had loved him, after all.

The two of you shared a knowing smile.

“You know there are like…hundreds of other breakfast places in this city, right?” you teased, but half-serious.

“I do…but this is the only one that gets my eggs just right,” he grinned back.

“Mmm. I’ll pass your compliments onto the chef. You still want the usual?”

“Please”.

You scribbled down the familiar order onto the page. It felt strange to write it down again, it had been a long time since you’d done that for him.

“Are you going to behave?” you questioned, arms folded.

“Mostly”.

“You’d better. Lou will have your ass if you don’t” you scoffed.

“I don’t doubt it”.

“And Bucky, if you’re here to-” you began, your face betraying the pain that still lurked within you.

“I’m not”, he cut you off. “Just breakfast. I promise”.

You nodded, pressing your lips together with trepidation. The two of you watched the other for a few seconds.

“Well, okay, that’ll be right out”.

You turned and put his order into the kitchen. You didn’t have to look back to know he was watching.

“Here you go”.

You returned to the booth a little later, laying out the plates and re-filling his coffee, he thanked you and pulled a napkin from the dispenser.

“I like your new hair”, he said as he began to cut up his food, his eyes not leaving the table.

“Thanks. I like your new beard”.

“Thanks. Business going okay here?”

“Doing well. Yours?”

“Same old, same old…”

“And…Rumlow?” you asked, your throat catching a little as you said his name.

“Terminated” he replied coldly as he took a sip of coffee.

“Yes…I presumed so. HYDRA?”

“I finally cut off all of those heads”.

“I hope you mean metaphorically”.

“Mostly. The girls good? Vis?”

“All good. Steve? Sam?”

“Also good”.

“Good”.

“Good”.

“Well…good to catch up. Let me know if you need anything else. Enjoy”.

“Thanks”.

You waited for some big trick or reveal, but it never came. He ate his meal, drank another coffee refill, paid the bill, tipped, and left within the hour. Like any other customer. Lou was sceptical, and so were you – but there nothing to suggest it was anything else but breakfast…like he said.

And that’s how it was every Friday after that. He’d come in at 9am on the dot, sit in the same booth. Order the usual. You were always his waitress. Everything was the same, every week. The other regulars knew to avoid sitting at his table at that time. The other servers would barely bat an eyelid as he strolled in, taking for granted that you’d be along shortly to put his order in – even if he wasn’t in your section that morning. And it was…fine. He didn’t try and do anything more, didn’t ask you to meet anywhere or for a chance to talk. You initially thought it would be hard to see him again, but it was okay. Maybe a future where the two of you just pleasantly co-existed was possible.

The two of you would chat. Just small talk at first. Occasionally a joke. Even Lou would chat to him sometimes, he was still wary of Bucky but more open to him than he was previously. He certainly didn’t mind him spending money in his restaurant.

Weeks soon became months. Seasons changed. Still, he came in every week, rain or shine. Plates and plates of eggs eaten; endless coffee mugs refilled. He didn’t ever skip it, he was never sick, never seemed to take vacations. He showed up every time. Even if you weren’t there.

The small talk eventually evolved, so slowly you barely noticed it happen. You chatted more about the old times, memories started to feel fonder rather than sad reminders of what was lost. He told you anecdotes about Steve and Sam. You told him about Wanda and Vis, about Nat. You laughed uproariously one morning over the story of Sam’s disastrous vacation involving a mistaken suitcase and an overzealous TSA agent. It was nice to just sit and talk with him, just be with him. No expectations or obligations. You hadn’t forgiven him. You weren’t sure you ever could. But you had missed him. And seeing him for an hour every week, on your turf, just shooting the breeze – that was nice.

“So, you seeing anyone?” you asked one morning as you sat across from him in the booth and sipped your drink, your break coinciding with the end of his meal. You weren’t sure where it came from, but it popped out of your mouth before you had a chance to stop it. The curiosity was eating you alive. You seemed to talk about everything apart from his love life.

He firmly shook his head, “nope”.

You frowned. “Really? When was the last time you went on a date?”

“With you,” he replied in that no-nonsense tone of his.

You cocked your head, peering over at him in disbelief.

“But Bucky…”

“What? I’m not interested in anyone else”.

“But we’re not together. And it’s been months”.

“I know”, he replied stoically as he sipped his coffee. His eyes seemed to be studying you.

“And we’re not getting back together…”

“I know”.

“But…”

“But what?”

“I don’t know, but I-I don’t like this. It feels like a ploy, somehow. To push me into taking you back” you stammered, your finger dancing on the rim of your mug.

“It’s not. It’s just a fact. I didn’t even bring it up, you did”.

He was frustratingly calm and unperturbed, finishing his breakfast like this was just some casual conversation about the weather or a movie he’d seen.

“So…what, you’re never gonna date anyone again? Is that it?” you scowled.

He shrugged, “I never said that. It’s just not something I’m looking to do right now. Work is taking up most of my time. Plus, I’m in therapy, working through a few things. I’d rather be in a better place before I start dating again. Learn from my past mistakes”.

“Oh…” you responded in surprise, “well…that’s very mature of you. And is it…helpful?”

“Mmm, pretty eye opening,” he nodded as he took another sip of his coffee, “I’d recommend it to anyone,” he looked at you pointedly.

You felt the heat at your cheeks, perfectly aware that he was suggesting you do the same. And he was probably right. But you didn’t like the potential to appear vulnerable in front of him, so you merely shrugged and went back to rubbing your coffee cup. You were genuinely pleased for him…it was just unfortunate that your break-up was the catalyst. You felt a wave of grief roll through you.

You paused for just a beat, again unable to stop your word vomit.

“Are you gonna ask if I’m seeing anyone?”

“No”.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s none of my business. You can date whoever you want”, he shrugged, keeping his attention on his plate.

You frowned. “And you’re okay with that?”

“Yes. I just want you to be happy, doll”.

“Bullshit!” you scoffed, “you once picked a man up by his ankles and dipped his head in the toilet because he grabbed my ass at that party…”

“Well, that was deserved. And I didn’t flush it on him, so he got off easy…”

You pointed an accusatory finger at him across the table. “Buck…I know you. What’s your game, here?”

He sighed heavily, taking a long sip of his coffee before he spoke. His eyes finally moved up from his plate to meet yours. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I just like being with you? In whatever form I can? That maybe I’m happy just getting this time with you every week, no matter what happens between us?”

“And that’s enough for you?” you asked incredulously.

He shifted in his seat, his tone suddenly very serious.

“Look, doll. I’m always going to love you. And I’m always going to be honest with you. If you turned around tomorrow and you told me you wanted to give things another shot – sure, I’d bite your hand off to accept. But I live in the real world. And I know you aren’t likely to forgive me for what I did, and that’s fine. I’ve accepted that. I’m just happy to have you in my life in some way, even if that’s just talking to you every Friday while I have my breakfast”.

You blinked back at him, unsure whether to take him at his word or if this was some manipulation tactic. The word ‘love’ echoed in your ears, and you had to shake it off that he said he still felt that way about you. Maybe this was all some trick. You knew you couldn’t trust him anymore.

But as you looked into his eyes, for a moment his sentiment felt…genuine. Real. Maybe he was telling the truth.

“Fine”, you sighed as you took a sip from your cup, “I get paid to be here either way…”

💔

A few more months passed, it had been nearly a year since the break-up. Bucky remained a weekly customer but nothing else. You’d finally moved out of Wanda’s into your own place – a shitty, cramped studio apartment was the best you could do on a waitress wage and tips – but it was yours. It had been such a long time since you’d had your own space, you loved every meagre inch.

You'd also started therapy, to help get your head around your childhood and abandonment issues - to help understand why you were always ready to run and expect everything to collapse. Bucky was right, it was valuable - if not hard going. But you knew it was helping, even though nothing could be 'fixed' overnight.

You still visited Wanda and Vis regularly. In fact, you were over there laughing with Wanda and making an early dinner when you got the call that Friday evening. She knew something terrible had happened from the way your face fell, your eyes widening with shock as you listened to the voice on the other end telling you whatever horror story it was. Seconds later you were rushing out of the front door and trying to wrangle on your coat and grab your bag, as she called out to you in a panic just steps behind.

“It was a massive heart attack,” the doctor had said as she eyed the clipboard in front of her. “He was lucky that a passerby on the street called an ambulance, if he’d been alone…he may not have been able to call himself, and if it had been too late…”

You had not been at the hospital long, sweating and panting in your rush to get down there. Your head fuzzy, unable to fully take in what you’d been told. The doctor was still talking, her voice an unidentifiable drone in your ears as you concentrated all your efforts on staying upright. You tugged off your coat, suddenly far too hot. The hospital felt like a furnace, suffocating and stifling. You were dizzy, everything felt blurred.

A couple of chairs sat a few feet away along the sterile-looking hallway, you plopped down into one and put your head in your hands.

“Can she see him?” Wanda asked the doctor, her hands patting your shoulders supportively.

“He’s stable, but the team are just doing some observations on him. Plus, he needs to rest, and might be feeling groggy after the meds. He’ll be out for a good while. It might take some time to be conscious and lucid again, so-”

“I’ll wait,” you said defiantly, the first time you’d spoken since you got there. “However long it takes”.

“Yes, I understand. And you’re his…friend?”

“Daughter,” you corrected. “I’m Lou’s daughter. Well…good as. He doesn’t have any other family. Neither of us do…”

The doctor nodded kindly, pointing out the coffee machine across the hall and leaving you to it.

💔

Wanda waited with you for a while, but she had a work event that night. She insisted she’d stay but you waved her off, telling her you’d check in with her later. She’d been planning that event for months. Lou would be mad at her for missing it, let alone over him. And you meant it, you didn’t want her missing it because of you.

So, she left. Leaving you by yourself in the hard chair with the plastic cup of lukewarm motor oil masquerading as coffee. Nat was out in the Bahamas with some hottie for the week, and you didn’t really want to bother Vis, so you sat quietly alone. You kept sane by reminding yourself that Lou was stable, and his prognosis looked good. He would be okay. He would. He’s made of strong stuff.

Another hour went by, and you couldn’t help your tears from falling as you began to work yourself up worrying, exacerbated by the fact you hadn’t eaten and had nobody around to stop you from spiralling. Wanda had sent a few texts, but you knew she was busy and didn’t need you distracting her. You just wished you had someone to talk to. Or not even talk to, just be with. You squeezed your phone in your hands as if willing the idea that someone would suddenly call you out of the blue. A friend you’d forgotten, a long-lost family member. But there was nobody.

Well, almost nobody.

You pulled your purse onto your lap and dug through, retrieving your wallet at the bottom. You opened it up and checked each card holder until you found what you were searching for, slightly worn and torn tucked behind the library card you barely used, but the details still clear as day.

JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES

Director of 107 Inc.

You had scooped up the card after he left it in the hotel room. It was a bit of a split decision, you’d nearly tossed it in the trash but changed your mind at the last second and jammed it into your wallet, not really thinking about why. You hadn’t looked at it since, you’d never transferred his number into your phone, or even spoken to him outside of Fridays at the diner. But he had become something of a friend over the last few months, and you were surprised to find yourself looking forward to seeing him every week. It was as if you’d gotten to know each other again from scratch, a slow-burn friendship grown over time – the complete opposite of your initial whirlwind relationship, where heat had won out over foundations. But now, you felt you knew him differently. It was funny how you get to know somebody without the chemistry and physical attraction fogging up your brain.

Was this stupid? Were you asking for trouble? But…it would be nice to talk to someone. Just a phone call, nothing more. You took a deep breath and punched the numbers into the keypad before you could talk yourself out of it.

“Hello?” came his gruff voice in your year after two rings.

You sat upright, surprised he had even answered at all – let alone so fast. You hadn’t really thought about what you were going to say.

“Hey, Buck, I…” you squeaked, unable to mask the emotion in your voice.

“Doll?” his voice immediately softened, “what is it? Are you okay?”

“Yeah…well, no, actually. I’m at Mount Sinai…uh…Lou-uh, Lou had a big heart attack and I’m at the hospital and hesreallysickandI-I…”

You sobbed, your words melting into one as the pain of saying them out loud hit home, “I’m sorry I…”

“Hey. It’s okay. Take a moment for me, alright? Take a deep breath doll…”

You closed your eyes, inhaling and exhaling, blowing the air out of your lips like he said. You did it a few times, feeling slightly better afterwards,

“Good, that’s good,” Bucky told you. “Are you by yourself? Are Wanda and Nat there with you?”

“No…Wanda is working, Nat’s away. It’s fine…I just…”

“I’m so sorry about Lou, doll”, he said tenderly. “Do you want me to come down there?”

“No…no…it’s okay…I just. I just wanna talk,” you replied, wiping your eyes with the palm of your hand.

“Yeah…yeah, we can do that. What shall we talk about?”

You sighed, “I don’t know. Anything. Anything that isn’t hospitals or heart attacks…or food. Because I haven’t eaten and I’m starving.”

“Alright. Hmm. Well…I had to break up a fight between Thor and Scott today, if that helps distract you…”

“What? But Thor is twice Scott’s size. That was mean of him…”

“No…Scott started it. Said Thor was mouthing off about something or other and it all blew up. Scott swung for him”.

“What?? Is he insane?” you practically shrieked, the beginnings of a giggle forming in your throat as you tried to imagine Scott trying to land a punch as Thor towered above him.

“I guess so. But they worked it out. Last time I saw them they were laughing, and Thor was swinging him from his shoulders”.

You laughed. A proper, deep belly laugh. It felt good. Cathartic. You could practically see some of the tension leave your body.

“Well, I’m glad they figured it out. What else did you do today, Buck?”

“Hm. Not a lot. Mostly work. I went to the park. Just to get some air. Went to that duck pond you like and sat on the bench for a while”.

You smiled, “I love that pond”.

“I know. Remember that time you nearly fell in trying to help that duckling trapped in the weeds?”

“I do. I remember that you had to catch me and I accidentally splashed pondwater on your suit as I stumbled…” you laughed fondly.

“Not the worst thing I’ve had my dry cleaner remove for me. And we got the duckling back to its mom, even if she was furious at us”.

“She tried to bite you…”

“She succeeded”.

You both chuckled for a moment as you reminisced, then it suddenly went quiet between you both. You held the phone tightly to your ear, unsure and a little lost for words. It felt odd to feel tongue-tied around Bucky, it had always been so easy to know what to say to him. Despite how easy it was to slip back into nostalgia just now, and your newfound friendship, there was still something of a gulf between the two of you. You had been apart for so long now.

“…thanks, Buck,” you whispered.

“Anytime, doll”.

💔

After you hung up with Bucky, a nurse came over and you shot up out of your chair with anticipation. She told you that Lou was doing well but was slowly coming around after a heavy sedative. He should be ready for visitors in another hour or so. You sighed heavily but nodded grimly, as long as Lou was alright – that was all that mattered.

You sank back into your faithful chair, pulling out your rapidly dying phone again and wishing you had the foresight to bring a charger when you left Wanda’s. Or some food, at least.

You continued your vigil in the unfeeling hospital hallway, a place that seemed to exist outside of time. But you had to admit, speaking to Bucky had raised your spirits a little. It reminded you of the old days, when he was an anchor in a storm, a calming presence when things were tough. Part of you had missed that.

You’d just closed your eyes a little while later when you heard someone call your name.

“Still hungry?”

Your eyes filled with tears as your head snapped to see who it was.

There stood Bucky dressed in his off-duty grey sweats, his unstyled hair flopping across his forehead. In his hand was a brown bag, you instantly recognised the brand of your favourite take-out place printed across the front. It smelled heavenly.

“Buck…?” you mumbled in shock, not quite believing he was there, “what…what are you doing here?”

He shrugged, “you said you were alone and hadn’t eaten. I know how you get when you’re anxious. Figured you could use this”.

It wasn’t clear if he meant the food or the company, but in that moment, you were grateful for both.

He sat in the chair next to yours and began to methodically remove the food tubs, placing them on your lap and opening the lids as he pulled out a fork and napkins.

“Hope you still like this one,” he said as he revealed your usual order.

“I do”, you replied, your voice small.

“Good. Dig in.”

You began to eat slowly, feeling strangely self-conscious about your audience. Fortunately, he pulled out a tub of his own which took the focus off you. The two of you sat side by side and ate in silence.

“Thanks for this, Bucky,” you mumbled between mouthfuls.

“Anytime. Any news on Lou?”

“Should be ready for visitors soon”.

“Well, that’s good. He’s a tough old bastard.”

You both finished your meals and Bucky got to work tidying up the empty containers and old napkins and depositing them in the trash. You thanked him as he sat back down.

“Hey…thanks again, that was really thoughtful - but really, you don’t have to stay,” you shrugged, “you probably have a busy night”.

He shook his head, “nope. I’m wide open”.

He stared straight ahead and leaned back, his bulk squeezing up against the armrests of the chair. He wasn’t going anywhere.

“What do you mean when you said, ‘I know how you get when you’re anxious?’” you asked him tentatively.

“Just…I know how you can spiral when you’re stressed. Figured you could use some company is all,” he casually as he moved his hair away from his face.

“T-thanks,” you responded, your throat dry, “I’m not really up to chatting much right now, though”.

He was nonchalant, “that’s fine”.

The two of you sat side by side, nothing said.

It was awkward at first, sharing this cold and sterile space with your ex, worries about Lou weighing you down. But then after some time…it was sort of…okay? He didn’t try to initiate any conversation; he didn’t show any signs of boredom – even though he must’ve been feeling it. Didn’t complain. Didn’t check his watch. He just sat and waited with you, his arms propped up casually on the armrests and his eyes trained on the wall in front of him. You were grateful that he’d heeded your request not to speak as you didn’t have the brain power to labour a conversation. You didn’t fully understand why, but him just physically being there was strangely comforting - as odd as that was to admit to yourself.

Eventually the nurse returned, her smile warm as she greeted you.

“Oh, you have a friend. Right on time, Lou is ready to see you now”.

You quickly got to your feet and dashed after her as she led you to Lou’s room. Bucky followed close behind.

Your heart sank when you finally saw him, covered in wires and tubes, his face suddenly much older than his years. You gasped, rushing over to his bedside.

“Hey, kiddo” he wheezed, a smile creeping over his face despite the obvious effort it required, “aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

“Oh God, Lou, I was so scared…I thought you’d…” you took his hand in yours, unable to say the words out loud as the tears started again.

You felt like you’d cave in on yourself from the anguish, but a steadying hand found its way to your shoulder from behind you. Bucky squeezed once, a small reminder of his presence, then pulled his hand away. It was grounding, helpful.

“Hey there hon, I’m doin’ okay”, Lou rasped as he weakly tried to grip your hand in return. “But I guess this is a good reminder to lay off the bacon, huh?” he chuckled before the effort caused him to wheeze.

You smiled faintly and patted his hand, careful to mind the IV by his fingers, “you gotta start taking better care of yourself, okay? No more greasy breakfasts at work…”

He nodded slowly, his eyes flickering over to Bucky behind you, “you brought company…”

“Oh, yeah”, you turned to gesture to Bucky, “he sat with me and brought me dinner while I waited”.

Lou nodded, a flash of something in his eyes you couldn’t place. “You takin’ care of her?”

Bucky nodded in return, “of course”.

Lou inhaled deeply, “well…alright, I’m glad she’s not been by herself”, he begrudgingly offered. “I wouldn’t want her out in the cold…so to speak” he said pointedly, a clear reference to that awful night one year before.

“Rest assured…that would never happen,” Bucky responded coolly. “But I understand your concern”.

You watched as the two men stared at each other, something resembling an understanding seemed to lay between them.

💔

You sat with Lou for as long as you could before the doctor shooed you and Bucky out, explaining Lou needed to rest. You promised you’d be back tomorrow.

“Oh hon…no. Don’t waste your time on an old man like me,” he teased playfully.

“Oh, stop that. You know I’m going to be here with balloons and grapes, the whole shebang…” you grinned, putting your coat on.

“Good to see you, Lou” Bucky chimed in as he shook Lou’s hand, “you’ll be fighting fit in no time”.

Unbeknownst to you as you were busy with your bag and coat, Lou used a finger to beckon Bucky to move closer. Bucky obliged, leaning forward so that Lou could speak to him. His words were hushed but clear.

“Hurt her again and I’ll beat the living shit out of you. Bad ticker or not. And I don’t care how many of your goons you set on me…”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, but his expression betrayed no emotion, “understood”.

You turned, smiling obliviously at Lou just as Bucky stood back up to full height and cleared his throat. They both smiled back.

“See you tomorrow, Lou”.

“See you, kiddo”.

You left the room with Bucky trailing behind. As a small sob escaped your throat, his hand pressed firmly against your back. A small reminder that he’d shown up for you. He was there.

💔

[revelboo]

Gah, the swindle fic was so, so good!!! I feel so bad for saying it, but I was talkin’ about Swerve, the lil dork that runs the bar in Lost Light!!! I’m so sorry!!! 😭

This little bozo!!! :)

Yes, you were xD I was working on the next Scavengers when I saw it and my brain just went: Swindle. Ignore me, it’s cold and I’m struggling

Lose Control

IDW Swerve x Reader

• Placing a clean glass back where it goes, Swerve surveys his kingdom. Aside from Trailbreaker sprawled across the bar top making a low rumbling sound as he recharges, the bar is empty and quiet. It’s something he never thought he’d have, a space to call his own. Where he’s in charge and listened to. “Third last call, big guy,” he says, reaching out to nudge Trailbreaker with a servo. “You know you can’t keep sleeping in here.” Mostly because when he wakes up, he’ll start drinking again and he can’t open if Breaker drinks all the inventory. Again.

• “Seriously? Don’t make me drag you,” he groans, knowing it’s an empty threat. Trailbreaker is as big as two of him and then some. There’s no budging him short of going and asking Magnus for help. And listening to the complaints about his bar and Magnus’s love language- rule violations. No, he’d rather take his chances with one very over energized mech. Which means babysitting all night to protect the bar. Frag.

• After kicking Trailbreaker’s stool again, he wanders around the bar. Bored and tired. “I don’t care if you’re my best customer,” he mutters, dragging a table slightly away from a wall. And there’s a sharp cry and a tiny shape darting from the shadows. Somehow that manages to wake up Breaker. Everything seems to slow as he sees the small form running alongside the bottom of the bar, sees Breaker shift and slide out of his stool, a ped coming down. And he’s running, diving with his hands outstretched. Feels that soft body hit his palms as Breaker steps on him instead and comes down on him.

• Flung off balance, you roll end over end and go sliding. Realizing that the big monster had almost stepped on you without even noticing and the smaller one had pushed you out of the way to take the brunt of the impact himself. Your confused brain is screaming at you to run, but as your rescuer groans, you can’t. “What happened?” The bigger one complains as the red one hits him, flailing to get free.

• “You’re crushing me,” Swerve snarls, venting raggedly as he gets loose, head turning to find the human still there, eyes wide as you stare up at him. Tensed to bolt, but waiting instead. “Hey, tiny.” Wiggling his fingers at you only makes you back up a step, expression uncertain. “I wouldn’t run. I at least see you,” he tries, as Trailbreaker gets to his feet and staggers away, gawking. Of course he’d heard the rumors of Brainstorm’s screwup, but the machine was destroyed. Right? And you glance from him to Breaker and back, and take a tentative step forward. A human that shouldn’t be here, doesn’t belong. Too small to survive, and he gets being smaller than every other bot except maybe Tailgate. He’s short, but you can be stepped on. “Little things need to stick together.”

Next

[rikosseen]

Gun Park x Reader: Creep

Anon ask | fighter fem reader

Jonggun Park has plenty on his plate already. He’s a busy man with a list to tick off. A busy man whose time is precious and not easily given out.

Though, as he continues to mindlessly carve the wood in his hands, said man can’t help but feel neurotic and excited when recalling what happened a few nights ago. His skin pricks, and a ticklish shiver runs through his body. What’s got him feeling so giddy? Must be the nicotine crashing his system. But no, the cause for his malfunction is an individual. One that momentarily captured both his time, and pride. An individual who Jonggun Park could not keep his mind off.

After all, Park Jonggun doesn’t get his ass whooped. He’s the one whooping ass. Park Jonggun doesn’t miss his calculated attacks. Definitely not to some no name rando. Park Jonggun is quite literally built too different to be thrown off. This makes you a threat, right? You were a threat, right? It’s worth finding out more about you, right? Right. This was all for a bigger cause. For the greater good of…everything. Yes, that’s right. The greater good of everything. So away Jonggun goes to scour you.

.

.

After turning the city of Seoul upside down (and making unneeded threats), he suddenly and coincidentally (as coincidental as this can get) lands his eyes on the person he’s been searching for.

Found you.

Junggoo pokes his head out from behind Gun, lowers his shades, and squints to take a better look. Of course Goo kim was in on finding out who piqued the pervert’s interest.

“You got beat by her? Embarrassing!” The blonde snickers, looking over at Jonggun to see his reaction. Gun, attention still on your moving figure, punches him in the face and tells him to fuck off. To which Goo scowls as he staggers back. Jonggun quickly jogs after you, and steps on Goo’s foot on the way.

“It’s illegal to stalk people! Fucking weirdo!” Goo squawks, rubbing his bruised cheek.

How hypocritical. Jonggun brushes him off as he eagerly paces behind you.

Found you, found you, found you.

The weather was great for a run. It was early in the morning, and- huh? Footsteps? This early? Johan! You snap your head around to acknowledge who you think is your bestie boo, Johan Seong running beside you. Only, it’s not your bestie boo. It’s a more repulsive sight. A familiar face. A face you encountered once, but obviously didn’t quite forget, because well, this man hit you. Punched your nose for having relations with bestie boo Johan. How dare he hit a lady. What’s his deal with being a Johan hater anyway? You scowl, and he grins. You speed up, and he matches your pace. You turn and try to ankle break him, but he does the same. So you stop running completely and stare up at him. Jonggun looks down, and before he’s even aware, the man is sweeped off his feet. He grabs your foot, and you land on the ground next to him with an oof.

“What is wrong with you?!”

He grins that ugly grin again.

“Fucking creep,” you spit out.

Oh, and this man is indeed a creep. Jonngun Park stands up, and proceeds to take off his shirt. You look at him, bewildered. What in the world?-

“Let’s go again,” he says.

Again? Oh.

.

.

Classes are done, and you mentally groan at all the work you have to finish off for school. Home sweet home, here I come- Is that? It’s him. Your stomach drops.

Jonggun Park is standing right infront of your school gate, eyes darting from student to student until they land on yours. Is this a police worthy report? Again, the man grins his ugly grin and walks toward you.

“Let’s go again-” you don’t even let him finish, scampering away in hopes to lose him in the crowd of students.

.

.

Today’s sparring session went extremely well, and-

“Let’s go again,” the creep is in front of your gym, shirt off, and that stupid, stupid grin plastered on his face. “You know, ever since since that night-”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” you throw a combination of punches that send him tumbleweeding across the street before running away in frustration.

.

.

Slowly, you poke your head out the door, looking left and right. There’s no way he knows where you work. Once the coast seems clear enough, you walk out, and keep your head down. Footsteps follow you. Oh God, please no.

“Let’s go again-”

You start sprinting away, and want to scream. Screw Johan for being friends with you, and screw this guy.

I don’t deserve this, you mentally sob

[ignis--fatuus]

I hate hate hate Holmes adaptations that make him invincible Need I remind you:

"His words were cut short by a sudden scream of “Help! Help! Murder!” With a thrill I recognised, I rushed madly from the room on to the landing. The cries, which had sunk down into a hoarse, inarticulate shouting, came from the room which we had first visited. I dashed in, and on into the dressing-room beyond. The two Cunninghams were bending over the prostrate figure of Sherlock Holmes, the younger clutching his throat with both hands, while the elder seemed to be twisting one of his wrists. In an instant the three of us had torn them away from him, and Holmes staggered to his feet, very pale and evidently greatly exhausted." (Reigate Squires) "With this permission I stole into the darkened room. The sufferer was wide awake, and I heard my name in a hoarse whisper. The blind was threequarters down, but one ray of sunlight slanted through and struck the bandaged head of the injured man. A crimson patch had soaked through the white linen compress. I sat beside him and bent my head. “All right, Watson. Don’t look so scared,” he muttered in a very weak voice. “It’s not as bad as it seems."" (Illustrious Client) "Holmes’s quiet day in the country had a singular termination, for he arrived at Baker Street late in the evening with a cut lip and a discoloured lump upon his forehead, besides a general air of dissipation which would have made his own person the f itting object of a Scotland Yard investigation. He was immensely tickled by his own adventures, and laughed heartily as he recounted them." (Solitary Cyclist) "“My collection of M’s is a fine one,” said he. “Moriarty himself is enough to make any letter illustrious, and here is Morgan the poisoner, and Merridew of abominable memory, and Mathews, who knocked out my left canine in the waitingroom at Charing Cross, and, finally, here is our friend of to-night.”" (Empty House) "Well, he has rather more viciousness than I gave him credit for, has Master Joseph. He flew at me with his knife, and I had to grasp him twice, and got a cut over the knuckles, before I had the upper hand of him. He looked murder out of the only eye he could see with when we had finished, but he listened to reason and gave up the papers. Having got them I let my man go, but I wired full particulars to Forbes this morning. If he is quick enough to catch his bird, well and good. But if, as I shrewdly suspect, he finds the nest empty before he gets there, why, all the better for the government. I fancy that Lord Holdhurst for one, and Mr. Percy Phelps for another, would very much rather that the affair never got as far as a police-court" (Naval Treaty) ".... Of course I knew better, but I could prove nothing. I took a cab after that and reached my brother’s rooms in Pall Mall, where I spent the day. Now I have come round to you, and on my way I was attacked by a rough with a bludgeon. I knocked him down, and the police have him in custody; but I can tell you with the most absolute confidence that no possible connection will ever be traced between the gentleman upon whose front teeth I have barked my knuckles and the retiring mathematical coach, who is, I dare say, working out problems upon a black-board ten miles away...." (Final Problem) Plus he fought the boxer McMurdo (prior to the events of the Sign of Four) so he must have gotten hit then too

[slut4thebroken]

Timekeeper Raymond Leon pt. 1

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Raymond Leon x reader

Summary | Raymond becomes obsessive trying to catch a suspect.

Warnings | 18+, canon level violence, smut, I’ll add tags for that in the next part, guns, angst?, idk what else to tag tbh

Words | 3k

Notes | Idk when part 2 is coming because I still have to write it but I’ll do my best to get it out soon.

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

“I’m timekeeper Raymond Leon.” 

You snickered and raised your brows in disbelief— what an introduction. 

“What can I help you with, timekeeper Raymond Leon?” He made no indication that he was affected by your mocking, which wasn’t all that surprising. 

“Someone stole a lot of time and their last known location was with you.” 

“Really? I don’t recall having any visitors recently. Except you of course.” 

“Maybe you just need something to jog your memory.” He reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a somewhat blurry picture of you and the man in question. It was clear enough that you could recognize yourself though. 

“That’s not me.” You shrugged. 

“That’s not you?” He asked, pointing to the mostly clear picture of your face. 

“Nope.” As he stared at you, you studied his face, trying not to get flustered by the fact that— for a timekeeper— he’s fucking hot. After a moment, he sighed in what seemed like annoyance. 

“I tried to do this civilly, but if you won’t cooperate I’m going to have to bring you in and question you officially.” 

“Come back with something other than a blurry photo to prove it was me and I’ll talk to you. Until then, fuck off.” He pursed his lips and nodded as he thought. 

“If I have to come back, things will be a lot worse for you. This is your last chance.” He warned and you had to refrain from rolling your eyes. 

“I think I’ll take my chances. You can see yourself out, timekeeper Raymond Leon.” He only stared at you for another moment before standing up and leaving. The second you saw his car pull away, you rushed to pack a bag, not wanting to stay here and make it easy on him when he inevitably returned. 

You did help that man. In exchange for a place to stay for the night, he gave you one of the time bars he collected. You didn’t ask where or how he got them, honestly you didn’t care. With what he gave you, you can spend your days hiding from the timekeeper rather than working and giving him another easy place to find you. 

That proved to be more difficult than you expected though. Multiple times now, he’s almost caught up to you, almost found you, and every time you always run. But you were getting tired and the worst part is that it doesn’t seem like he is too. If anything he’s only more motivated to catch you after all this time— as if it was personal now. 

You were walking down the street, continuously checking behind you— he’s made you so paranoid that you flinch at the slightest sound. When you rounded a corner, your eyes widened at the black car slowly driving in your direction. You immediately turned around and started walking impossibly faster out of nerves, which only seemed to draw attention to yourself because you heard the siren turn on behind you, making you take off into a sprint. Every once in a while you checked behind yourself, finding the car right on your tail. When you turned down an alley, you heard the door slam shut and then loud footsteps, running after you. 

“Stop!” Fuck. Part of you was hoping it would be literally any other timekeeper besides him. But you’ve never had good luck. 

You rounded another corner, chest starting to burn from the exertion, and when you turned down yet another alley, you slowed to a stop at the sight of a building in front of you, high enough that you wouldn’t be able to climb over it. You cursed under your breath and turned around to go back and keep running, but he just caught up to you, slowing to a stop a few feet away and pointing a gun at you. When you staggered back, he followed you slowly, gun and eyes completely trained on you. 

“No where else to run.” He said, making you look around again just to be sure. He’s right. You were surrounded by three buildings, there was no way out other than behind him. 

“This doesn’t seem like a fair fight.” You said, glancing at the gun. 

“I’m not fighting you.” 

“Well I'm not going with you willingly so your options are shoot me or fight me.” He stared at you a moment, then scoffed a laugh and put the gun away. 

“Fine.” 

Truthfully this decision might’ve been a little stupid. You don’t know how skilled of a fighter he is and you’re not even very good yourself. But you figured having a slight chance was better than having no chance. 

Everytime you attacked, he blocked it easily with a smirk— he wasn’t even fighting back. Wanting to position yourself on the side of the only exit, you started trying to circle him, but he caught on almost instantly and made sure he always stayed between you and the street.  

The first time your fist landed on his cheek, both of you were stunned. He snapped out of it though and grabbed your wrist while you were still off guard, then twisted you around so your arm was bent uncomfortably behind your back. He pushed you forward until you hit the wall and then placed your other arm behind you as well. 

“I didn’t even fucking do anything.” You spat, squirming in his grip. 

“You ran, lied, and interfered with an investigation.” He said lowly, pressing his body against yours to limit your thrashing. 

“No shit I ran. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but people like me usually end up dead because of people like you.” 

“I wouldn’t kill you.” He said simply— as if his words would be enough to make you believe him. 

“No… You’d just take my time because I “have too much” and then I’d die.” 

“I would only take back the time that doesn’t belong to you.” 

“Someone gave it to me. I don’t fucking care where they got it from, you should be punishing them not me.” 

“Trust me, we have. But since you aided a wanted criminal, you need to be punished too.” You felt him lean back a little before continuing. “Only ten hours? Where’s the rest?” 

“I wasn’t about to walk around with too much time and get myself killed.” You scoffed, thrashing again. 

“That’s not what I asked.” 

“Go to hell!” He suddenly turned you around, slamming your back against the wall with a firm hand wrapped around your neck. 

“Where is it?” You clenched your jaw as your gaze hardened, ignoring the way your chest was heaving and your stomach was fluttering from the proximity alone. “It’s not at your place, we already checked. So where did you stash it?” 

“Fuck you.” You muttered, making his grip tighten on your neck. His free hand grabbed your wrist and he looked down at it, making you do the same. “Hey!” You tried yanking your wrist free as the numbers kept going down and down. He left you with 30 seconds, then looked back up at you. 

“I’d talk quickly if I were you.” 

“This is not fucking legal!” Your eyes kept rapidly glancing between his face and your arm— 25 seconds now. 

“Either you tell me where it is and I take it back, or you time out and no one uses it anyway.” 20 seconds. 

“Okay— okay I’ll tell you, just- give me my time back.” You rushed out, chest heaving in fear rather than arousal now. 

“Tell me first.” 

“Fuck!” 15 seconds. Your eyes burned with unshed tears as you watched yourself grow closer and closer to death. Should you just tell him? Give him a fake answer? Maybe he’s bluffing… But you don’t know for sure whether he is or not. Ten seconds. “Please- please, I’ll tell you—” You whimpered, but he just waited. Five seconds. “It’s in my apartment!” Your time was going up now, but only back to 30 seconds. 

“We already searched there.” 

“I- I have somewhere to hide it. Please.” 

“Show me.” He said as he gave you an hour. Pulling away from you, he motioned for you to start walking, so you did. “I doubt I need to remind you, but if you try anything, you’ll be dead in an hour.” 

“Fuck you.” You muttered, bottom lip quivering. You were glad you were at least in front of him so he couldn’t see you wipe your tears. You can’t even remember the last time you’ve been that scared. 

He walked taciturnly behind you, his boots heavy against the pavement compared to your worn down sneakers. 

“Why are you doing this?” You asked, not bothering to try and face him. 

“Why am I enforcing the law? Because it’s my job.” That made you halt suddenly and you couldn’t help yourself when you turned around. 

“Bullshit.” You spat, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’ve been fixated on me for weeks just because it’s your job? It’s only a few years, the other guy had hundreds. Why am I so fucking important?” He stared at you silently, his cheek flexing as he clenched his jaw, and you did your best not to shrink under his gaze. 

“I’m not giving you more time until I have what was stolen so I suggest you hurry up.” You huffed and rolled your eyes at his response, then turned around to keep walking. As you neared your apartment, you tried to think of a way out of this. You weren’t lying when you said you had somewhere to hide it in your place but you couldn’t just give it up that easily. 

You entered the building and walked up the stairs, then down the hall to your door. Fumbling with your keys, you tried to give yourself more time to think, but he caught on quickly. 

“Stall all you want but you have less than an hour before you time out so I wouldn’t recommend it.” 

“How do I know you’re not just going to leave me with this anyway?” You spat, turning around to face him. 

“Because unlike you, I’m not a liar.” He countered and you tried to maintain eye contact— to not give in. But after only a few seconds, you clenched your jaw and turned back around to open the door. 

“I need to go to the bathroom.” You said, setting your keys down on the counter as he scoffed a laugh. 

“Sure. After you give me what I came here for.” 

“I need to go now.” 

“Then you better hurry up.” Your teeth grinded together painfully as you glared at him, but all he did was raise his brows, waiting. 

“Fine.” You opened a drawer in the kitchen and grabbed a screwdriver, then walked to your room as he followed, carefully watching you. You eyed the messy space and gave him an annoyed look. “They could’ve at least put everything back instead of completely trashing my room.” He didn’t respond. Just waited by the door impatiently. 

You walked over to the nightstand and picked up the alarm clock to unscrew the back. You only bought this clock a couple weeks ago for the sole purpose of hiding the time capsule since you knew they’d search your apartment. 

Reluctantly, you took it out and set the clock back on the side table. He walked closer and held his hand out, but you hesitated. Despite the fact that you’ve been obsessively anxious and vigilant for the past couple weeks, they’ve been the most relaxing weeks of your entire adult life. You weren’t always hours from death, you didn’t have to overwork yourself to the point of considering just laying in bed and letting yourself time out. 

“Please.” You said quietly, looking up at him. “Please… Can’t you just- say I got away? Or that someone stole it from me?” You begged, grip tightening on the capsule.  

“No.” Your face fell from just that one word. Even if he gave you back the ten hours, you’d still be dead before you could find work. You looked around the room, gauging how close you were to the door or window and if you’d have a chance. “Don’t do something stupid. You’ll only make this worse for yourself.” You turned back to him, eyes starting to burn with tears once again. 

Impulsively, you decided to take your chances and go for the window since it was already open. You barely made it a foot away from it before a gun was going off, making you jump and squeeze your eyes shut, waiting for the pain you were sure you’d feel. When you opened your eyes, you saw a new hole in the wall in front of you, only inches to the left of your head. 

“Fine!” You yelled, voice breaking. Turning around, you threw the capsule at him and he caught it effortlessly. “Just fucking leave. I don’t want the time back.” You knew you probably only had half an hour left, but you felt completely and utterly defeated and exhausted.  

“We’re not done yet.” 

“I gave you what you wanted.” 

“You still broke the law. Numerous times.” 

“Seriously?” He just stared at you. “Fine. I’ll time out there instead.” When you walked passed him toward the door, he grabbed your wrist, making you freeze. 

“Not yet.” He said, then after a few seconds, released your arm that now showed two hours. “Let’s go.” Your gaze shifted between his hands, one with the gun and one with the time capsule. You knew you had to try something before you got in the car because after that you’d have no chance. 

“Remember what I said about doing something stupid?” Your eyes snapped up to his. 

“What so I’m just supposed to willingly fucking kill or incarcerate myself by going with you?” 

“Yes.” He all but shrugged, making your gaze harden. Eventually you just huffed and walked out of your room to the front door as he trailed behind you. 

The walk back to his car was silent and while you tried to walk slowly, every once in a while he’d nudge your back with the gun, warning you. When you rounded the corner only a block away from his car, you recognized the man across the street. 

You met him a few days ago. He was on 20 minutes, frantically begging on goers for any type of job they’d be willing to give. So you gave him a day. He seemed to recognize you too, then noticed the timekeeper behind you. He looked the other direction, spotting the black car a little ways down, and seemed to understand what was happening. Pulling his hood up, he started walking in the opposite direction you came from, then crossed the street so he was behind you. 

You heard a loud step, then turned around to find the timekeeper catching his balance before turning around to see who had pushed him. You reached for the gun and since he was distracted by your savior, you managed to take it from his loose grip, making him turn back to face you. His eyes quickly changed from shocked, to completely fucking pissed. You took a couple steps back and pointed it at him, watching the other man run away. 

“Give me the capsule.” You said, gaze shifting to his hand for half a second before looking at his face again. When he took a step forward, you took one back and adjusted your grip on the gun. “Set it on the ground and kick it to me.” You urged. 

“No.” 

“Excuse me?” You asked, brows shooting up. 

“If you want it, you’re going to have to kill me.” 

“Please just give it to me.” You begged, knowing you didn’t have what it takes to do that. Slightly lowering the gun, but still keeping your guard up, you stared into hard, unforgiving eyes. He was suddenly rushing toward you, and it all happened so fast that you don’t even know what you did, but one second he was moving forward, the next he was on the floor. You could see blood pooling in the pavement and you almost gagged at the sight of the hole in his leg. 

“Oh my god— oh my god, I- I didn’t…” You quickly threw the gun as if it had burned you and kneeled down next to him, anxiously looking between his pained expression and the wound that was gushing so much blood it almost made you throw up. “Are you okay?” 

“Are you fucking kidding?” He hissed, making you flinch. 

“Sorry— I’m sorry.” He stared at his leg for a second before growling and discarding the time capsule on the floor so he could put pressure on his leg. “Where’s your phone?” You reached for his coat pocket, making him flinch back. 

“Don’t fucking touch me.” He spat. 

“You need to call someone or you’ll bleed out!” How is it possible that you’re more panicked than he is right now? He seemed to understand his options though. 

“Fine.” You reached in his pocket and took out his phone to call 911, making sure to specify that it was a timekeeper that needed help so that they didn’t take their time. You don’t know why you did that for him though. He was about to arrest you for god's sake. After hanging up, you put it back in his pocket then reached for the time capsule, making sure to stay out of arm's reach. You gave yourself three days, then set it down next to him. 

“I’m sorry for shooting you. I honestly didn’t mean to.” He gave you a look of almost disbelief and irritation at the fact that you’d said something like that. 

“You’re not running?” He asked, breathing getting more and more labored. 

“I’m waiting until I hear the siren.” 

“Why?”

“Because I shot you and I feel bad.” You said sheepishly, making him scoff. 

“After all this time, you care enough to make sure I don’t bleed out?” He snarked. 

“Would you rather I go?” You asked, gaze still nervously moving between his eyes and his leg. He let out a quiet huff and rolled his eyes. “Please don’t try to find me again.” You begged. 

“You shot a timekeeper. You’ll be lucky if the order isn’t to shoot on sight.”

“Please.” You whispered urgently. 

“I don’t have any control over that. But even if I did, I’m not going to stop.”

“Please, Raymond.” Your head snapped up at the sound of sirens quickly growing closer. Before you stood, you grabbed the gun just in case. “Please.”

“Run all you want. I’ll find you eventually.”

Part 2

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Deadly Proposal: Part Seven

Pairing: Vampire!Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.8k

Warnings: angst, parents' death by car accident, loss of both parents

Summary: Your entire life comes to a halt when tragedy strikes your family. You and Dean put aside your drama to take care of your parents who are left for dead after a terrible accident befalls them. The lines between you and Annabeth start to blur and Dean doesn’t know if he’ll survive this relationship a second time.

Deadly Proposal Masterlist

Square Filled: cradling someone in their arms for @badthingshappenbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

“I can’t fall for you again.”

What the hell does that even mean? Again? When did he fall for you the first time? It’s frustrating getting to know Dean because once you peel back the layer on something he keeps hidden, twenty more layers are beneath it. He won’t give you any indication of what’s going on or why you’re so important. Sure, you can dig deeper but you’ll come across something you wish you didn’t and maybe that’s what’s stopping you.

You walk into the kitchen and see Sonja cooking something that smells delicious. You grab a bottle of orange juice and sit at the island. It’s been a few days since the last encounter with Dean. You wanted to give him some space but look how well that turned out last time.

“Hey, has Dean been down yet?”

“No. He went to his office earlier.”

“Of course, he did,” you roll your eyes.

Sonja puts a plate of food in front of you that you immediately dig into. She is probably the best cook you have ever come across, and you’ve tried a lot of food from a lot of people. After breakfast, you leave the kitchen in search of something to do. There are a lot of activities to do in this mansion and it’s better than sitting in your room overthinking about Dean.

You approach the basement door and slow down until you’re right in front of it. You place your hand on the door handle with the intention of going inside but Dean’s words come to your mind.

“Look, there are only two rules I keep here. Bedtime is at nine every night. You don’t have to go to sleep but you do need to be in your bedroom at that time. Second, never go in the basement.”

“Why? What’s in there?”

“Nothing of importance to you.”

It’s nothing new that Dean is secretive but what can he be keeping in the basement that he doesn’t want you to see? Is his entire life down here? Are there prisoners? Humans? Or something worse? Dean might not like having you around all the time but you have his respect. If you go down there now, you will lose that and ruin what you two have. You take your hand off the handle and continue exploring the mansion.

Dean had every intention of working when he entered his office, but all he could do was stare at his laptop in thought. He’s getting too comfortable with you. The last time he let someone into his heart, she not only broke it but crushed it to pieces. He cannot go through what he went through with Annabeth. Not again. He thought those feelings he had for her were long buried deep but you brought them to the surface. He wasn’t always like this. He used to not care for anything but that was over seven hundred years ago.

Dean is shoved into the cell roughly and he falls to the ground in a fit of coughs. Vampires don’t have a lot of weaknesses but if someone were to use vervain on a vampire, it’ll weaken them enough to capture them. Vervain slowly pours out of the vents in small clouds and Dean can’t help but breathe it in. The cell door is shut and locked behind him, and Dean looks at his captor with deadly eyes.

“This is for the best, Dean.”

Dean staggers to his feet and leans against the bars. Sam takes a step back knowing he can’t get out of the reinforced steel cage.

“When I get out, I’m going to rip your throat out.”

Sam looks sad not by Dean’s words but at the state his brother is in. He turns and leaves the basement, and Dean slides to the floor in pain. Seconds later, the door is opened again and Dean watches long legs descend the staircase. Those legs belong to a breathtaking woman. Dean has never seen her before. Such beautiful skin. Delicate hands. Doe eyes. Dean grips the bars and hauls himself to his feet to greet the mysterious woman.

“Sam didn’t want me bringing this but no one should have to go hungry.”

The woman sets a tray of food down by the cage in a place where Dean can reach it. He doesn’t move from his spot, though.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“Annabeth.”

“Well, Annabeth, I don’t eat that human shit. Come closer and let me get a taste of what I’m really craving.”

“Nice try, Mr. Winchester.” Dean growls and slams his body against the bars with his fangs out trying to scare her. Instead, she takes a seat at a table that’s ten feet from the cage. “You’re going to have to try a lot harder than that to scare me.”

Dean didn’t like Annabeth at all at first. All he could think about was draining her blood from her body. If he could do that, he could go after Sam and continue his mean streak across America. However, she appealed to the human part of his brain. She continued to visit him on a regular basis and talked as if they were best friends.

“So, when I got enough money to move out, I picked the farthest place from my parents. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mom and dad. They were and are loving parents, but I wanted to experience life on my own. I wanted to be completely independent from them. You should have seen the look on my mother’s face when she drove me to the airport. Talk about waterworks.”

The vervain has lessened after a while and Dean suspects that Annabeth has something to do with that. He barely eats and drinks what she brings him but she doesn’t complain. Whatever he doesn’t finish, she takes upstairs and returns later with a new tray of food. Dean sits on the ground against the wall just staring at Annabeth as she knits and talks about her life. She’s even more beautiful when she rambles.

“Why are you here?” Dean cuts her off, mid-story.

“I’m Sam’s friend. I’m visiting him.”

“No, why are you here?”

Annabeth doesn’t stop knitting but she does look at him.

“If I were in that cage, I’d want a friend to talk to.” She looks back down at her knitting project and continues where she left off. “So, when I got to my apartment, I called my mom to let her know I’d arrive safe but the damn landlord wouldn’t let me in. There was a mix-up and I had to move in the following week. I never told my mom I spent a week in a homeless shelter. She still doesn’t know.”

The more Annabeth came to visit Dean, the more he fell for her. The murderous urge went away because what replaced it was love. Love for Annabeth. She was sparking a change in Dean’s mind that he didn’t know he wanted. She forced herself into his life and forced him to change everything about him.

Dean watches the basement door with hopeful eyes to see Annabeth. Like clockwork, she opens the door and walks inside this time carrying flowers.

“Who are those for?”

“You.” She slides the flowers through the bars so he can grab them. She trusts him not to hurt her. Like he’d ever want to hurt her. She’s a gift to humanity. Such pure innocence. He grabs them and she smiles kindly at him. “I figure it might bring a bit of happiness to you.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

She walks back to her table and sits down.

“How are you feeling?”

“I don’t want to murder anyone.”

“That’s good. You’re making progress. Sam is impressed.”

“When can I get out of here? It’s been two years.”

“Sam hasn’t said anything--”

“Sam doesn’t know what’s good for me,” he cuts her off. “I’ve learned my lesson. I just want out and start over. I won’t hurt anyone.” Annabeth looks around, unsure about being the one to let him go. “Please, Annabeth.”

She leaves the basement and Dean sighs in defeat. His only chance out of here is through her. Sam has been down here periodically to check on the progress of his brother but he won’t listen to reason. Not until he feels Dean has completely changed. However, Annabeth returns with the key to the cage in her hands. She unlocks and opens the door but Dean doesn’t move just yet.

“Like you said, Sam doesn’t know what’s good for you.”

Dean didn’t plan on falling for Ananbeth and he certainly didn’t plan on her falling for him. She wanted to go with him even though it was dangerous to bring her along. She told Sam she was moving closer to her parents since they were getting older and needed her attention. He believed her and she ran away with Dean the second she could.

She was the reason why Dean was able to evade capture by his brother again. She was the reason why he changed himself for the better. She was the reason for it all. Now, you’re the reason why he’s changing yet again. You’re the reason why everything he’s fought for over the centuries is crumbling to the ground. You’re the reason his broken heart was able to mend itself back together. He’d give up everything in a heartbeat to be with you, and that thought terrifies him.

He’s been avoiding you for the past couple of days because he’s afraid of letting you in like how he did with Annabeth. She broke his heart to the highest degree and he refuses to go through that again. He shakes all thoughts of you and Annabeth out of his head so he can focus on work, but then he hears you sniffling outside of his office. You’re crying. He immediately gets up and opens the door to see you standing there with your phone in your hands and tears in your eyes.

“What happened?”

“It’s my parents… They’re hurt badly. I have to go see them. The hospital called me ten minutes ago.”

“I’ll drive you.”

“They live in Arizona where I’m from.”

“I’ll fly with you,” Dean says without hesitation.

Dean’s private jet is waiting for him when you two arrive. He doesn’t waste any time in getting the bird into the air and on its way to Arizona. Dean grabs two water bottles and hands one to you but you don’t take it. You’re looking at your phone with a blank stare so he sets it onto the table for you to use later.

“I heard the fight you had with Amber. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” you say. “Please.”

Dean understands not wanting to relive painful memories. You manage to find sleep for the entire duration of the flight and Dean let you. He can tell you’re tired of the shit life is throwing at you. A jet is faster than a commercial plane so they get there faster than you thought. When you get to the hospital, a nurse directs you to the room your parents are in. The doctor is just exiting the room when you approach him.

“I’m Y/N, their daughter. What’s going on? What happened to my parents?”

“Thanks for coming so quickly. Their injuries were worse than what we orignally thought.” The doctor leads you inside the room as he talks but the sight of your mangled parents makes you stop listening to him. They look so… broken. You put a hand to your mouth and let out a strangled cry, and Dean pulls you into him. “At this point, all we can do is make them comfortable, but I don’t think it’ll be long until they pass. I’m sorry.”

The doctor leaves to give you time to grieve alone and you crumble in Dean’s arms. He’s the only thing helping you stay upright at this point.

“You can heal them, right?” you sniffle and look at Dean.

The look in Dean’s eyes tell you everything you need to know. You push him away and sit down right next to their bed with tears streaming down your cheeks.

“My blood can do a lot of things but it won’t heal them when they’re in this state.”

Dean steps out of the room to let you mourn in peace. You hate that Amber isn’t here with you, but you don’t know where she is or if she’s even alive. She left when she wa at a very low point so she could be anywhere. Not that it would matter though, your parents wouldn’t want her here anyway. They gave up on her a long time ago. You should have to, but you believe in the strength in family. Amber just kept taking from you until you had nothing left to give.

The doctor was right. It didn’t take long for your parents to pass away. The next step is deciding on wether you want them cremated or buried but the hospital knows you’re not going to decide that right now. They’ll go tot he morgue and be held there until you have made a decision within a reasonable time. 

With nothing left to do at the hospital, you and Dean leave right as the sun is descending to the horizon. Arizona sunsets are beautiful and you wish you could appreciate them in all their glory right now.

“Where do you want to go now?” Dean asks.

“Home.”

The house your parents lived in is the same one you and Amber grew up in. They never left because they wanted to preserve the memories locked inside the house. Despite it’s clear decay, they refused to move. The hard part of losing a loved one is cleaning up after them, to relive all those memories at such a raw time.

“Why don’t you take a few days to grieve and then we can tackle this house?” Dean asks.

“No one else is going to do it, and I’d rather get it over with now.”

If you wait a week or even a month to do this, the pain will be too great to face. You’re still in a state of shock so you’d rather get this over with now to avoid those worse feelings later. There are a lot of things you want to save such as photo albums, important documents, and things that were important to you and your parents, but the res tof it can be thrown in trash for all you care. You begged your parents to move after Amber had left but they didn’t listen to you. Talking to them about this was like talking to a brick wall.

You’ll pack what you want to keep and the rest will either get thrown away or given to thrift stores. You’ll sell the house as is and use the money as savings for you. You’re not going to tell Amber this but your parents left everything to you in their will. Your mom forced your dad to make one just in case, and thank God they did or else this would have all gone to the State.

Their room is going to be the most painful place to start but no matter how hard you tried, you can’t pick up one piece of thing they owned.

“Lookj, why don’t we do this tomorrow. Just give yourself a day, okay?” Dean asks.

“If I don’t do this now, I won’t do it.”

“Y/N, take care of yourself. Just take a breather and I will help you in the morning.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

You walk outside to the front porch swing but Dean stays inside the house. Your past resides in this house and he’s taking this opportunity to learn more about you. On the wall are pictures of you from your childhood with only a few of them containing Amber. Presumably from before she got into drugs; Back when they thought she was just an innocent angel.

Each picture contains smiles and happiness, evidence of a family who was happy together. When Annabeth’s parents died, he brought her back to her house so she could say goodbye to them. Dean looks out the front window and sees you sitting on the porch swing, swaying lightly. The only difference between you and Annabeth besides the centuries is that she knew her heritage and you don’t. He can’t break it to you now so he won’t… not until the time is right.

He walks outside and joins you on the swing. You two sit in silence for a while, just enjoying each other’s companies. You fiddle with your fingers and look at Dean who is staring at the sunset in front of him.

“I thought vampires weren't allowed in the sun.”

“The sun rumor was to make humans think we only attacked at night. We weren't monsters. We wanted to live normal lives. Well, some of us did. That rumor gave that normalcy to us. For a while, at least.”

You scoot closer to him and sink into his side, and he wraps a comforting arm around you. This is the exact opposite of what Dean should be doing, but he silences that warning voice for the time being.

x

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[every-aj-needs-an-angel]

Happy Birthday to the lovely @estrellami-1 I hope you're feeling better and that you're having a wonderful day ❤️

Eddie wasn't sure who the party was supposed to be for, he wasn't sure Steve knew either to be fair. It was someone's birthday party, he'd seen a sash on one of the girls, couldn't say for sure which one though. And of course it was hosted, as all parties were these days, at the Harrington residence.

He remembers Wayne telling him that no-one had seen Harrington Senior or his wife since just after the Byers kid went missing, so Eddie supposed that made this massive mansion all Steve's.

And it'd been obvious since his massive blow up with Wheeler that he'd just stopped giving a fuck.

So Tommy and his band of merry fuckheads organised parties in Steve's house, and made a fortune out of it too, even though Steve wasn't really even friends with any of them anymore.

Not that Eddie cared. He didn't. The bigger the parties, the more parties they had, the more money he made. It was all the same to him.

Just sometimes, Steve would catch his eye across a classroom or like now across a party and Eddie thought that he looked kinda… lonely. Not that he was sure why Steve would choose to be that way, he might've fallen from grace but the guy was still gorgeous, he could have anyone he wanted; but he just seemed to wander ghostlike around the edges of life these days.

It seemed like forever since Eddie had last seen him smile, not sneer or grimace like he tended to now but a proper eye crinkling, dimple showing smile. Not for a lack of trying on Eddie's part of course, he'd taken to acting like a jester trying to get the fallen king to even so much as smirk, but his attempts haven't worked so far.

He thought he'd managed it earlier, during English when they were discussing male protagonists and he'd said Steve would make a pretty good Mr Darcy and winked exaggeratedly at him but his face had just gone through a multitude of expressions before he'd huffed in annoyance and leaned back in his seat with his arms crossed, staring grumpily out of the window.

Eddie didn't know why he was so determined to fix him. They weren't friends, they were barely even acquaintances, but Wayne always said he had a tendency for strays and even though Steve's house was brimming with people, Eddie knew as well as Steve did that if he didn't have all this, he'd be well and truly alone, which thinking about it was probably why he was letting the dickhead jocks walk all over him.

Tonight was the third party Eddie's worked here in as many weeks and he's made a fortune but Tommy decided to start a fight with the birthday girl's boyfriend, which is one way to kill a party he supposes, so now everyone's starting to make their way home, groups of teens staggering their way down the middle of the road; which is just plain stupid really, they're all going to get caught, not that Eddie gives a fuck, keeping the cops busy on the main roads gives him chance to get away unnoticed.

He knows better than to draw attention to himself like that, he learned a long time ago to only work parties with a good escape route, so he heads straight to the sliding doors, that way he can slip out through the backyard and take his chances with whatever creatures live in the forest.

That's the plan anyway.

Until…

"Eddieeee!!" Steve yells, drunk as a skunk and half dangling out of the sunlounger he's supposed to be sitting in, reaching towards him and making grabby hands.

"Harrington," he greets wearily, he's been surreptitiously watching Steve all night, he knows he's had four too many and knows all too well how unpredictable drunk people can be, if it wasn't for the fact that he and Wayne need the money he wouldn't even be here.

Steve just sulks, sticking his bottom lip out in a pout, all big sad eyes, "Don't call me that," he mutters. Eddie doesn't say anything, just rocks on the balls on his feet and watches as Steve tries and fails to right himself, "Help?" he pleads like a toddler and Eddie can't help feeling endeared, he sighs, shaking his head to himself as he walks over to the sunlounger, picking Steve up under the arms, like the baby he's acting like and gets him settled properly.

"There you go," Eddie mutters, patting him gently on the head.

"Thanks," Steve mumbles, a surprised look on his face and a blush spreading across his cheeks, tapping the space in front of him in invitation for Eddie to sit and as much as part of him thinks it's a terrible idea, he knows if he leaves he'd be leaving him alone in this state and he just can't do that, so he sits.

"Hi," Eddie says, for a lack of anything else to say.

"Hi," Steve greets, a dopey smile on his face blinking owlishly at him, but then his face shifts like he's just remembered he's supposed to be annoyed with him, "Why'd you call me that earlier?" Steve asks petulantly.

Eddie frowns, he hasn't called Steve anything, at least not that he can remember, "Your name?" he clarifies.

Steve shakes his head excessively, "Mr Darcy!" he spits with a snarl, like it's a swear word, "You've been nice to me for weeks and then you went and said that!" he whines.

Suddenly the weariness is back in Eddie's stomach, tries to think why Steve might be insulted and comes up empty, "I don't know, does generous, kind and good looking not suit you?" he babbles before he can really think about how that sounds coming from another guy.

Steve's face does something complicated, he opens his mouth to say something, shuts it, his face changing expression, opens and closes his mouth again before settling on a confused but soft little "oh".

Now that he knows he's not about to get punched, Eddie relaxes a bit, and curiosity killed the cat or whatever because against his better judgement he asks, "What did you think I meant?"

Steve shrugs and looks forlornly at the ground, "What everyone else thinks. That I'm an elitist, condescending wanker. That you'd been being nice to me as a joke so it'd hurt all the more when you were mean. I got drunk because I was sad because I thought we were friends but you were just playing a prank on me," Steve tells him and there's such sincerity and pain in his eyes it hurts to even look at him.

But Eddie can't help it, he's beyond surprised so he can't stop his eyebrows hitting his hairline, "Friends?" The fallen king of Hawkins High wants to be his friend? Was hurt when he thought Eddie wasn't his friend? Cares at all what Eddie thinks about him? That's way beyond his comprehension.

Steve just smiles dopily at him, lifting Eddie's chin with a gentle finger to make Eddie look at him and it's like being gut punched because who'd've thought this sweet, vulnerable guy was hiding inside Steve Harrington this whole time?

"Yes, friends! Do you wanna be my friend, Eddie?" And all Eddie can do is nod because he's been thrown back into a memory long since forgotten, of two little boys playing together in the forest, games of pirates and cowboys and aliens and those same hazel eyes looking deep into his soul and asking that very same question.

Jesus H Christ!

A gust of wind blows through the yard making Steve shiver bodily but given his clumsy movements earlier, Eddie wonders how to get him inside without risking him falling in the pool, because everyone else has definitely already left and Eddie can swim but not well enough to rescue someone who's drunk and not fully in control of all their limbs.

But Steve for all his height and his muscles isn't actually all that heavy, not in comparison to band equipment, he could probably manage…

Eddie twists slightly away from Steve, "Right, hop on," he instructs, tapping his shoulder. Steve just gives him a puzzled look, Eddie smiles encouragingly, "I'm gonna give you a piggyback indoors. I don't want you to drown!"

Steve smiles then, really smiles, and if Eddie knew it was this easy he'd've done it weeks ago, and wraps his arms loosely around Eddie's neck and his legs tightly around his waist.

Eddie tries not to think too closely about it, he's known for a long time that he's queer, knows full well endearing, pretty jocks are his type, knows that tightening in his chest isn't because Steve is heavy but more because their cheeks are smushed together and they're sharing the same breath and Eddie can smell his aftershave and the beer he's been drinking and for some reason when it's coming from Steve it isn't making him want to hurl.

The house is an absolute shittip but whoever was last out at least had the decency to turn off the music and turn out all the lights, so Eddie just slides the door shut behind them and heads straight for the stairs. Steve grips a little tighter, leaning into Eddie making balancing easier but other than that he makes no effort to leave Eddie's grasp.

He's waddling up the stairs but only because Steve's long, long legs are in the way. A secret part of Eddie thinks about doing this regularly, having Steve this close, so pliable and snuggly. Eddie feels a little guilty about it but he can't help himself from filing the memory away for rainy days when he feels sad, it's just such a priceless moment, chances are this is never gonna happen again.

"Which one's yours?" he asks when they reach the landing and he's faced with several closed doors. Steve doesn't say anything, just sighs heavily and points Eddie in the right direction.

Eddie steps forward, twisting the doorknob, the door swinging open, and flicking the light on to reveal his room looks… exactly how Eddie expected it to and suddenly he can't keep the fond smile off his face, because of course Steve has plaid wallpaper and matching curtains, it's so cliche it's adorable.

He walks over to the bed, turns so he's facing the door and drops Steve unceremoniously onto the mattress making him giggle uncontrollably. Eddie turns back to watch him because how can he not? He made Steve giggle! It's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard, even when he breathes in too fast and he snorts, his eyes are all crinkled in the corners, showing off his dimples and his perfectly straight teeth, he really is just perfect.

Eddie tries not to let his affection bleed through onto his face but he must do a pretty poor job because when Steve opens his eyes to look at him, his breath hitches and he stops laughing. And Eddie kicks himself because the house is far too silent without Steve's quiet laughter. He needs to get out of Steve's bedroom but he can't leave without getting him some provisions for the morning. He glances around and spots the ensuite in the corner, nipping inside and grabbing a glass of water and a packet of paracetamol from the medicine cabinet, wandering back out to leave them on the bedside, dragging the wastepaper basket closer to the bed just in case.

Steve is now more settled in bed, head on his pillow, snuggled up under the covers, Eddie smiles, putting on his persona so he can make it out of here alive and hopefully with his heart still intact because if he gets any cuter Eddie isn't sure he'll be able handle it.

"Okay, my liege! Now thou art safely in thy bedchamber, I shall bid thee adieu," Eddie says with a bow, he feels okay about leaving him now he's got him all set up and safely in bed.

Steve grins at his dramatics but frowns when what Eddie said sinks in, "Wait!" he yells unnecessarily given Eddie hadn't really made any attempt to leave, even though that's what he said he was going to do.

Eddie's eyebrows raise all by themselves, reaching new heights when Steve pats the bed beside him, "Stay," he whispers and how is Eddie supposed to deny him? He can't even use Wayne as an excuse because the poor bloke's at work, all Eddie would be going home to would be a cold trailer and crap TV, how could that ever compare?

He tries to think of a reason because this is so far from a good idea but Steve wants to be friends and he so clearly needs a friend and Eddie can do that, he can be here for his friend.

"You sure?" he checks but when Steve nods vigorously in reply all his misgivings leave him, he sits on the edge of the bed as far from Steve as he can get, leaning back on his hands, looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to say whatever it was he wanted to say.

Except Steve doesn't say anything, he just gets a hold of his wrist and pulls knocking Eddie flat onto his back, his head landing in Steve's lap and it happens so quickly all Eddie can do is blink up at him. Steve smiles like he's won the jackpot and starts running his fingers through Eddie's hair like he's petting a cat and Eddie daren't even breathe let alone move but it feels so good his toes are curling in his Docs and when Steve starts to giggle again he realises it's because he's enjoying it so much he's making little noises in the back of his throat.

"Sorry," Eddie mutters but Steve just shakes his head fondly and continues his ministrations, just watching Eddie watching him but it's been a long day, between school and the party and Eddie can feel his eyes drooping no matter how hard he tries to fight it.

He isn't sure how long he lays there for but his legs have been dangling over the edge so long even his shins have pins and needles when Steve rouses him with a gentle tugging of his hand and a whispered "C'mon, get in!"

Eddie does as he's asked, absentmindedly kicking off his Docs and getting settled on top of the blankets, both of them laying on their sides facing one another.

"Night, Stevie," Eddie mumbles, already half asleep, only just feeling Steve place his hand into his own, interlinking their fingers and leaving a kiss on his knuckles with a whispered, "Goodnight, love."

(I hated this fucking ending so much because I did the typical thing of thinking of it without writing it down and not to give tmi but whilst in the shower I just remembered I wanted it to be "Goodnight, Teddy." and now I'm just mentally kicking the crap out of myself because I posted it with the wrong ending 😭😭😭 sorry @estrellami-1)

[ausetkmt]

Ga. islanders vow to keep fighting change favoring rich buyers

DARIEN, Ga. - Descendants of enslaved people living on a Georgia island vowed to keep fighting after county commissioners voted to double the maximum size of homes allowed in their tiny enclave.

Residents fear the move will accelerate the decline of one of the South’s few surviving Gullah-Geechee communities.

An aspect of the ordinance that residents take issue with is the fact that it erases a clause about protecting the island’s indigenous history.

During public meetings leading up to the vote, the zoning board proposed changes to the ordinance of lowering the newly allowed home size and removing talk of golf courses being added to the island.

Black residents of the Hogg Hummock community on Sapelo Island and their supporters packed a meeting of McIntosh County’s elected commissioners to oppose zoning changes that residents say favor wealthy buyers and will lead to tax increases that could pressure them to sell their land.

ISLAND’S HERITAGE

Gullah-Geechee communities like Hogg Hummock are scattered along the Southeast coast from North Carolina to Florida, where they have endured since their enslaved ancestors were freed by the Civil War. Scholars say these people long separated from the mainland retained much of their African heritage, from their unique dialect to skills and crafts such as cast-net fishing and weaving baskets.

Regardless, commissioners voted 3-2 to weaken zoning restrictions the county adopted nearly three decades ago with the stated intent to help Hogg Hummock’s 30 to 50 residents hold on to their land.

Yolanda Grovner, 54, of Atlanta said she has long planned to retire on land her father, an island native, owns in Hogg Hummock. She left the county courthouse Tuesday night wondering if that will ever happen.

“It’s going to be very, very difficult,” Grovner said. She added: “I think this is their way of pushing residents off the island.”

Hogg Hummock is one of just a few surviving communities in the South of people known as Gullah, or Geechee, in Georgia, whose ancestors worked island slave plantations.

MORE | Mom in Grovetown calls cops on U.S. energy secretary’s staff

Fights with the local government are nothing new to residents and landowners. Dozens successfully appealed staggering property tax hikes in 2012, and residents spent years fighting the county in federal court for basic services such as firefighting equipment and trash collection before county officials settled last year.

“We’re still fighting all the time,” said Maurice Bailey, a Hogg Hummock native whose mother, Cornelia Bailey, was a celebrated storyteller and one of Sapelo Island’s most prominent voices before her death in 2017. “They’re not going to stop. The people moving in don’t respect us as people. They love our food, they love our culture. But they don’t love us.”

Merden Hall, who asked not to be on camera, has lived on Sapelo his whole life. He says he’s worried about the sizes of homes now allowed on the island.

“I’m not comfortable with this. They approved the 3,000 square feet, that’s the only thing I disapprove of, because that’s going to raise property taxes,” he said.

Hogg Hummock’s population has been shrinking in recent decades, and some families have sold their land to outsiders who built vacation homes. New construction has caused tension over how large those homes can be.

Commissioners on Tuesday raised the maximum size of a home in Hogg Hummock to 3,000 square feet of total enclosed space. The previous limit was 1,400 square feet of heated and air-conditioned space.

Commissioner Davis Poole, who supported loosening the size restriction, said it would allow “a modest home enabling a whole family to stay under one roof.”

“The commissioners are not out to destroy the Gullah-Geechee culture or erase the history of Sapelo,” Poole said. “We’re not out to make more money for the county.”

Commission Chairman David Stevens, who said he’s been visiting Sapelo Island since the 1980s, blamed Hogg Hummock’s changing landscape on native owners who sold their land.

“I don’t need anybody to lecture me on the culture of Sapelo Island,” Stevens said, adding: “If you don’t want these outsiders, if you don’t want these new homes being built ... don’t sell your land.”

County officials have argued that size restrictions based on heated and cooled spaced proved impossible to enforce. County attorney Adam Poppell said more than a dozen homes in Hogg Hummock appeared to violate the limits, and in some cases homeowners refused to open their doors to inspectors.

Hogg Hummock landowner Richard Banks equated that to the county letting lawbreakers make the rules.

“If everybody wants to exceed the speed limit, should we increase the speed limits for all the speeders?” Banks said.

Hogg Hummock residents said they were blindsided when the county unveiled its proposed zoning changes on Aug. 16. Commissioners in July had approved sweeping zoning changes throughout McIntosh County, but had left Hogg Hummock alone.

Commissioner Roger Lotson, the only Black member of the county commission, voted against the changes and warned his colleagues that he fears they will end up back in court for rushing them.

Two attorneys from the Southern Poverty Law Center sat in the front row. Attorney Anjana Joshi said they had “due process and equal protection concerns” about the way the zoning ordinance was amended.

“In our view, this was not done correctly,” said Joshi, who added: “We’re just getting started.”

Located about 60 miles south of Savannah, Sapelo Island remains separated from the mainland and reachable only by boat. Since 1976, the state of Georgia has owned most of its 30 square miles of largely unspoiled wilderness. Hogg Hummock, also known as Hog Hammock, sits on less than a square mile.

Hogg Hummock earned a place in 1996 on the National Register of Historic Places, the official list of the United States’ treasured historic sites. But for protections to preserve the community, residents depend on the local government in McIntosh County, where 65% of the 11,100 residents are white.

[the-fiction-witch]

Aftershow

Media Nowhere Boy

Character Paul

Couple Paul X Reader

Rating Smut

Concept Aftershow

Smut BJ/ Full sex / raw sex/ risk of discovery

I smirked as I stood staring up at the stage, I shuffled my feet and shifted my hips to the music as I sucked on my little orange lollipop watching the boys perform. I couldn't keep my eyes off him he looked so good in his suit, playing his guitar his hair styled just so watching sweat form across his face from the stage lights and of course, his work on the music kinda reminded me of how flush and glistening his face gets when he's laid on my bed. When the song finished I applauded along with everyone else and the boys left the stage. I finished my lollipop bent the stick and threw it in the trash as I headed backstage but a man stopped me.

"Sorry love, can't let you back here," he said as he had just stopped four other girls from getting backstage 

"Paul" I called around the man getting pauls attention from his chat with John 

"Ohh Hi honey, let get though she's fine" He told the man and he let me back so I sauntered over and pressed a kiss to pauls cheek leaving my lipstick mark there 

"Hello darling" I smiled fixing his hair a little 

"Hi, did you like the show?"

"Brilliant as always," she smiled 

"Yeah?"

"You always are" 

"You think I could get a kiss then? for doing such a good show?"

"You'll get much more than a kiss" I smirked "Come on darling" I cooed taking his hand and tugging him away from the boys, we rushed to the bar's little bathroom scampered inside and shut the door locking it behind us I pushed him against the door and he smirked happily pulling my body against his, so I kissed him our kisses wasting no time turning into heavy make outs his hands quickly found my ass so I smirked into the kiss and moved my hand down his shirt and tugged at his belt 

"Ummm yeah? That what you want honey?"

"Very much darling, That okay with you?"

"Absolutely" he smirked squeezing my ass so I returned to our kisses and began undoing his belt tugging my hand inside his pants meeting his hardening erection I quickly took him in my hand and stroked him gently "Ughhh! Egar tonight honey"

"well when I'm stood watching my boyfriend perform so good I can't help but want my hand here" I smirked 

"Ummm well when you're up on stage performing where my pretty girlfriend who's been giving me bedroom eyes all night it's hard not to want my hands on you" 

"Well don't stop then" 

He quickly kissed me and moved his hand down to go up my dress' skirt and stroke my pussy making me gasp 

"Darling"

"Yes, honey?"

"This what you want?" 

"It's what I always want," he smirked 

"Alright" I cooed tugging his pants down and moving us so I could lean against the door slightly bent over 

"Uhhh fuck I love you" he groans pushing up my dress and pulling off my panties

"I love you too" I giggled "Ughhh!" I groaned as he slipped inside me wasting no time to get to his usual fast pace

"Uhhhh! uuughh! Y/n!" He groans trying to be quiet but that doesn't last long as his thrusts get faster and faster "I'm so close y/n"

"Just a little longer Paul" I whined trying to keep quiet 

"Want me to touch honey?" he smirked moving his hand to my clit 

"Yes!" I gasped he quickly began to rub my clit keeping at our current pace "Ughhh ughhh faster"

"Faster? Alright honey but I don't know how much longer I can-" He began but luckily I hit my wall fairly quickly covering my mouth as to not scream, he kept going even if his thrusts got sloppy and staggered until he pulled out "I can't any longer I'll-"

"Umm alright darling" I smirked moving to my knees and taking him into my mouth 

"Ughhhhhhh! ugghhh y/n!" He moans loudly "Ughhhh honey! More please" he begs so I got faster which was enough to send him over the edge and he grabbed my head burying himself in my mouth and I happily swallowed and licked him clean 

"Humm My handsome famous boy happy?"

"Very much honey, thank you"

"You're welcome darling" I winked getting to my feet and fixing my dress "Now you get yourself sorted I'll go to the bar and grab us some drinks" I smiled kissing his cheek and heading out to the bar. 

[pandoradoesotherstuff]

4 Times Night Almost Told Moon he Loved her and The One Time he Did.

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

A/N: The God of Charm got his turn, so of course, the God of Night had to be next! Although Charm's was more fluffy, I still like Night's one too. 6 who doesn't love some OC fun?

Enjoy!❤️

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

Night is slumped in his chair, looking surprisingly dishevelled for once in his life, waving his hands around haphazardly as he told Moon a ridiculous story from long long ago. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor next to him, giggling at his words and leaning against his legs to stop herself from falling sideways. He knew he should probably stop drinking and go to bed, but her company was so enjoyable, her tinkling laugh infectious. Night couldn’t pull himself away even if he wanted to. They had been playing a dangerous game tonight, flirting and talking all evening, exchanging heated glances across the room. He was married, this wasn’t right but the feeling in his chest wouldn’t leave. The warmth of unexpressed feelings, the guilt, the anger, the alcohol. It was all swirling in his system, making a dangerous situation even worse. 

“And that was even before the racoon and the unicyclist got involved!”

Night burst out laughing, almost sliding off his seat onto the floor, wine slopping out his glass messily. It was the dumbest joke he’d ever heard but damn if it didn’t crack him up the way she told it. 

“If you keep telling jokes like that, Moon, I’ll leave. Whether I lo-”

There was a pause as Night caught himself before he said too much. The room felt like it was spinning, he could see Moon watching him from the corner of his eye, he needed to get out of there. He stands up quickly, grabbing the arm of the chair to stop himself from falling over. 

“It’s getting late. I uh, I gotta go”. 

Moon watches in silence as Night staggers through the now almost vacant meeting room.

*****************************************************

The room is filled with quiet gasps and groans as the two beings lie almost completely intertwined on the black chaise lounge. Their legs dangle over the edge, hands roaming under clothing and through each other's hair, lips working desperately together. Moon whimpers as Night’s sharp teeth find her neck. He chuckles darkly against her skin in response. 

“Who knew you could make such a noise? I love it, I love y-”

They freeze when the door knocks suddenly, the sound of the handle jiggling causing them both to scramble to their feet, trying to make themselves as presentable as they could as quickly as they could.

“You should uh, you should leave out the other door. That’ll be Sun, you know, my wife”. 

Moon slips silently away without another word. 

**********************************************************

Moon was sitting at a table in the corner a little too cozily with Charm, their heads close together as she giggled and laughed, smiled a little too flirtatiously. Night wanted to storm over there and drag her away, it was irrational and stupid and reckless and the only thought that was going through his head. Then Charm leans in and whispers something in her ear, she giggles again, hand coming up to cover her mouth as a blush settles on her cheeks. The chair screeches as Night stands up abruptly. 

“Darling?” Sun asks, alarmed. 

“I just remembered something important I have to do, I’ll be back soon, dear”. He storms away without a backwards glance, making a beeline for Moon. She doesn’t look round as he stops dead next to them, clearing his throat loudly. 

“Charm, I have to talk to Moon. Leave. Now”. 

Charm holds his hands up and leaves without a word. Moon and Night were playing their usual game, and he wanted nothing to do with it. 

Moon sighs deeply, swirling her drink around but doesn’t look up at him. 

“What can I help you with, Night?” She asks, sounding unusually stiff and formal. 

“What can you help me with?!” The words came out louder than he meant too, quickly lowering his voice to a harsh whisper. “You know damn well why I came over here. Sitting there all cozy with Charm. Charm! What the hell are you playing at?” He’s furious, trying hard to keep his rage and vitriol to himself. 

“You’re not my boyfriend Night”. Moon replies coldly, mirroring words he’d said to her himself earlier. “You don’t have any right to tell me what to do”. 

“That isn’t fair Moon, you know that isn’t fair. I lo-...” He cuts himself off with a sigh, this was quickly getting out of hand. His words could only make things worse right now. Never mind that he knew Sun would be watching closely from across the room. 

Night sighs deeply, pushing his glasses up as he pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“You’re right Moon, do what you want. I don’t own you”. 

****************************************************

It had been a stupid throwaway comment at best, about how Night thought Moon should dress more opulently. More like someone of her “status”. It wasn’t that she dressed badly, just a little too casually for his taste. Night should have known she’d make him eat his words. 

Art nudges Night as Moon walks in. 

“Your friend is here”, they tease. He gives her a warning look before turning around to greet the goddess that had finally arrived. His words catch in his throat, the breath almost leaving his body as Moon smiles innocently. 

“What?” She was wearing a midnight blue gown, adorned with moons and stars that twinkle and shone like the real thing, silver bracelets entwined and snaked up her forearms, constellations painted delicately on her eyelids. Her silver hair curled and waved around her face perfectly, clipped at the back with a realistic looking half moon clip. There’s a pause as Night just stares, Art smirking at her friend from next to him before nudging him in the ribs again. He chokes a little before finally speaking. 

“Wow, you look…beyond beautiful. I’m so glad you came, I love y-it. I. Love. It. So nice to see you but I really must check on everyone else. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you later, I-I’m sure”.

Art moves to stand next to her, looping their arm in Moon’s as they watch Night quickly weave his way through the crowd to almost hide behind another god. 

“I think you broke him”. Art comments with amusement. 

“Good”.

***************************************************

Night paces back and forward behind the desk in his office, hands clasped behind his back, teeth clenched in anger. He couldn’t even look at her right now, he felt hurt and betrayed. She was supposed to be on his side about this, she was supposed to agree with him. Moon sits slumped down in the armchair in the corner, arms folded over her chest as she stares at the ceiling fan, waiting on him to finally say something. 

“How could you do this to me?” He finally asks after what felt like a millenia. “After everything…everything we’ve ever been through, everything we’ve ever felt, just when I need you most. I even pleaded with you to vote to free Phobos. But what do you do instead? You bale on me and say nothing. I can’t…I can’t even look at you right now!” Night throws himself down heavily in his chair, elbows now resting on his knees, face in his hands. Moon bristles, sitting up in her own chair to give him a dark look that he couldn’t even see. 

“I did what I thought was best, okay?! I don’t know if Phobos should be free or not, and I sure don’t know why you’re acting like what I think is important to you. We all know I’m nothing to you. A play thing at best”. She bites her lip, fighting back the tears and the upset that threatened to overwhelm her. There’s a beat of silence as Night looks up quickly, eyes wide with shock and his own hurt. Did Moon really not know…

“Nothing? You think you’re nothing to me?! Then you know even less than I thought! I love you Moon and it eats me up inside every day that I can’t do anything about it. I’m married and that’s that. You know this. I know this, Hell, all the other gods probably know this too. So next time you want to come out with something stupid like that, just remember what I said”. Night doesn’t look at her as he stands up. With a few quick strides he’s standing next to the door, quickly unlocking and opening it. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do preparing for Phobos to be released. No thanks to you”. 

“Night I-”

“-Leave”.

[mochamvgz]

the first snow (with you)

; enhypen x reader

; genre: headcanon, pure fluff, established relationship

; warnings: none

; 1k words

; tags: @inkelea @bunreis @sobun1est @aylin-hijabi @kbookshelf

heeseung

we all know he's a huge sleepyhead so ofc you woke up first. you staggered out of bed, rubbing your eyes and looking out the window. you caught sight of the blanket of snow enveloping the earth and suddenly you were wide awake.

“hee!! it snowed last night!”

“huh? 5 more minutes..” he groggily muttered in his sleep.

after a decade of trying to shake him awake, you finally got his attention when you said you'd make him hot chocolate if he woke up, which made him sit upright, tangled up in the blanket. can't blame the guy though, i mean, who can resist a steaming mug of hot cocoa?

jay

when I tell you this guy plans out the entire day while you're in the shower and doesn't waste a minute. he takes out the time you'll need to get ready of course, even goes as far as to pick out your outfit and helps you dry your hair and prepares breakfast while you do your makeup! (is he available on amazon??) he remembered you mentioning wanting to go out sledding with him when it snows once so that was first on the agenda, obviously.

later, you asked him if he would like to do the snowman dance challenge with you and he said yes before you've even finished your sentence. this was your first snow with jay and needless to say, it went beyond anything you'd imagined and left you feeling utterly awed.

jake

the two of you were out for a walk after dinner. you sat down on a bench for a minute to take a break and suddenly he exclaimed, “darling let's go to the namsan tower!” naturally you were a little puzzled due to his outburst but he seemed persistent.

“please we have to go! i just checked the weather forecast and it says it might snow tonight!” that got you up on your feet in an instant.

namsan tower is the highest point in Seoul and an ideal spot to visit for the first snow of the winter, there is also cage-like thing for love locks (please look it up idk how to describe it T.T)

you make it just in time as the first fluttery white particles descend from the sky. “quick! make a wish!” you giggle at jake’s enthusiasm and join your hands to make your wish as he does the same. there's no way you're going back home without attaching a love lock for you and jake.

sunghoon

he's absolutely overjoyed about it. this means he can take you ice skating!!!

“but hoon, i don't know the first thing about skating! what if i fall flat on my face?” you whine, but he shuts down your protests and reassures you that he's got you and you have nothing to worry about. it didn't take long for you to cave and the next thing you know, you're renting skates.

you soon find out that you are, by no means, a natural at the activity. your balance isn't the best and you come dangerously close to face planting a few times but your ice prince manages to catch you each time.

of course sunghoon can't resist showing off a little once you decide you've had enough and opt to watch him from the sidelines.

sunoo

snowman! snowman! snowman!

sunoo has been talking of wanting to build a snowman together ever since the day after thanksgiving and cannot wait for it to snow. looks like today's his lucky day. he wastes no time getting both of you dressed in warm clothes and getting supplies for the snowman (buttons, scarf, hat, etc) and drags you out of the house.

this was your first time making a snowman so your first few tries weren't anywhere near successful but you had the framework for a formidable-looking gentleman on your 5th try. sunoo happily claps as he surveys the frame and gets to work scouring for twigs for its arms as you give it facial features along with a scarf and hat so your new friend doesn't get too cold. sunoo inserts its arms in and you couldn't be more pleased with the result.

jungwon

he insisted on staying indoors where it's warm but you convinced him to go out for the winter carnival, eventually. how could he say no to you? as you're walking around the food stalls munching on a corn dog, jungwon squealed out of the blue, startling you. when you asked him what's wrong he said he felt something cold and wet land on his nose. without a word you took his hand and broke into a sprint, pulling him along to the ferris wheel.

“what…are you..doing?” jungwon lets out while panting, trying not to trip. you asked him to wait and make a beeline straight for the ticket counter, leaving him to catch his breath.

next thing jungwon knows, he's on the top of the ferris wheel with you as a flurry of snowflakes rain down. you pull him into a kiss and his boba eyes widen at the abruptness of it, he eventually melts into it. this is definitely going to be one of his most memorable moments with you.

niki

splat!

a gasp left you as a snowball landed on the side of your face, catching you off-guard. you look up to see the culprit snickering. “so that's how you wanna play nishimura? it's on”

you reached down to scoop a handful of snow, shaping it into something like a sphere and launched it at your boyfriend. the battle only ends once you hold up your arms in surrender. riki fist bumps into the air as a gesture of victory and runs over to pull you into a hug. the air is filled with your laughs.

“did i go too hard on you?” he quietly asks and only once you reassure him that you're okay does he let go.

“can we make snow angels now?” his face lights up at that.

“thought you'd never ask, m’lady."

you end up writing your names together in the snow in between the imprints of your snow angels later.

; note: ty @euncsace for the niki snowball fight idea! i hope you like it! exams are creeping up so y'all might not hear from me as often, might even go on hiatus but i'll try to clear out the reqs in my inbox before that!

© mochamvgz on tumblr | all rights reserved | do not copy, repost or translate

[insomniacaesthetic]

Snape takes care of sick reader (SFW & Platonic)

Summary: You are sick and Snape takes care of you. Aka Snape being protective over his slytherin students and would do anything for them 😤

100% platonic. No romance involved. Gender neutral SLYTHERIN reader.

A/N: No one requested this I’m just sick and wanted comfort. I'm sorry if this is garbage and not as detailed as my usual work. But I'm very ill rn and just wrote this while half asleep and full of NyQuil so there is bound to be errors. I'm hoping to post some of the one shot requests I've fulfilled later this week.

.���゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

You knew it was only a matter of time before you caught your first cold this year. Sicknesses here spread like wildfire, and it was no surprise that this one had knocked you off your feet. Everyone had seemed to catch this strand, and you were the last of your roommates to receive it.

Last night, you struggled to fall asleep. Coughing fits and a pounding headache keeping you up well into the night. No position felt comfortable. Being under the covers was too warm but leaving them off was too cold.

When you finally felt comfortable, coughs wracked your body so violently you had to sit up to stop them. This continued on all throughout the night. By the time morning came, your eyes felt heavy, and a throbbing headache left you unable to rise from your bed. Your roommates couldn’t be upset with you because they had kept you up many nights with their coughing when they were sick.

“Going to class today, Y/N?” One of your roommates asked.

“Of course, they aren’t. Look at them. No offense, L/N”

“None taken.” You croaked out.

“You need to go tell Snape you’re missing classes though. That way he can let everyone know so they don’t take house points.”

You groaned. “Can’t one of you tell him for me? I really don’t want to get out of bed. “

“Sorry L/N. You know we can’t. Last time somebody did that it was because they were faking their cold. So now Snape says we have to go down there ourselves if we’re sick. “

After ruining the start of your morning, your roommates soon filtered out of the room to head to classes. Some of them would return to the room soon during their free period. Which meant you only had maybe two hours of peace. But that was only going to come after you talked to Snape.

Pulling yourself out of bed was quite the task. Your balance was horrible, and you staggered around the room for several moments. Your bed looked incredibly inviting and all you wanted to do was climb back into it.

You stumbled down the stairs and out of the Slytherin common room. Managing to startle a few lingering students on your way out. You knew Snape would still be in his office, he rarely attended breakfast in the great hall. Sure enough, you could see the flicking of light underneath his door. You weakly knocked. The sound only worsened your headache. You found yourself leaning your forehead against the wood of the door for support. The cold of the wood soothing the heat that was coursing through your body.

When the door flung open, you fell headfirst into the room. The only thing preventing you from hitting the floor was your professor’s arms which flew out to grab you.

“L/N. What’s the meaning of this?” Snape’s soothing baritone voice was a welcome change from the buzzing going on from within your head. He helped you steady yourself on your feet then stared at you quizzically.

“Professor Sn-“ you were interrupted by a series of coughs. “Professor Snape I can’t-“

More coughs.

“You can’t attend class. Obviously.”

“Yes.”

“Well, you best be going down to see Madam Pomfrey. She can give you a pepperup potion.”

“I don’t like her potions sir. Side effects are always-“ These series of coughs were more violent. You lost your balance and collapsed again into Snape’s arms. The headache now more prominent than ever. You groaned in pain.

“Let me help you to the hospital wing.”

“Please no.” You nuzzled your head into his robes. You didn’t mean to. He just was so warm.

“Then back up to your dormitory. Now. You need to rest.” He tried to assist you back on your feet once again. His hands lingering on your arms in case you decided to fall again.

“I can’t. My roommates will be back in only about an hour. They’re so loud. Just wanna sleep now.” You leaned into his touch and closed your eyes. Snape sighed and essentially dragged you into his office. He propped you up in a chair in front of his desk and disappeared for a moment behind a door in the corner of his room.

He returned seconds later with a few pillows and blankets. He set up a little spot for you in the corner of his room. It was a reading nook, above it a boarded-up window.

Once he was satisfied with the makeshift bed, he guided you over to it and helped you get comfortable.

“You can sleep here L/N. Until I get back from classes. Rest well.” He readjusted a few strands of your hair off your cheeks and behind your ear.

You could only hum in response and closed your eyes and let sleep overtake you.

-

When you woke a few short hours later, you still felt awful. Though the headache had left, you still had a sore throat and felt weak. A damp washcloth was resting on your forehead.

Snape entered the room, his nose buried in a book. When he heard you start one of your coughing fits, he stalked over to you.

“Drink.” He held out a small vial of unknown contents. You sat up, letting the rag fall to the floor.

“What is it?” You cocked a brow. Eyeing the liquid suspiciously.

He rolled his eyes. “Just drink it L/N. It’ll help.”

Without further question you downed the foul-tasting potion and gave a shudder of disgust.

“Tastes like shit.” You spoke without thinking.

“Watch your tongue.” He snatched the vial back from your hand. He bent over to retrieve the rag that had fallen and returned to his desk.

You laid back down in the space he had created for you and tried to focus on not coughing.

“Have you eaten?” Snape called out to you from across the room. At hearing his words, your stomach growled loudly to answer his question.

“I’ll take that as a no. I’ll bring you back something. No allergies right L/N?”

“No sir.”

While Snape was out of the room, you occupied yourself by carving patterns into the wood that barricaded the windows with your nails. It was nice in his office. At least when you weren’t being punished or serving a detention. You were very thankful he let you spend the last few hours here rather than in your stuffy dorm. Your roommates wouldn’t have been able to keep quiet while you tried to rest, and you doubted anyone would’ve offered to get you food or a potion.

Speaking of potion, it had helped significantly. The heavy feeling in your limbs had gone away. The dull throbbing in your head had disappeared. All you were left with was a tickle in the back of your throat and a blocked nose.

Snape returned with a bowl of soup and a cup of tea. As you ate, he sat next to you in a chair he had pulled up. He tried to hide the fact that he was watching you, making sure you were alright, by hiding himself behind his book.

“Thank you so much! That was delicious.” You said after you finished. He then passed you one of the teacups on the tray. The other one was brought to his lips.

“This is why you’re my favorite professor!” You smiled and sipped on your tea. Snape struggled to hide his blush at your praise.

Snape was hated by those outside of Slytherin. Mostly because they never got to see sides of him like he showed with his students. Sure, he was still emotionless and stoic, but he was always willing to be there if a member of his house needed him. Even if it was something childish.

There had been many occasions where Pansy Parkinson came to his office desperate to just rant about her boy troubles involving Draco Malfoy. Did Snape care? Not a damn. But it was clear it was troubling her, and she needed to get it off her chest. Snape was more than happy to lend her his ear.

The same went with you. Seeing you arrive at his office, barely able to stand. Refusing to go to Madam Pomfrey. He was secretly glad you didn’t want to head up to your dorm as he wanted to keep a close eye on you. A lot of his students had gotten sick lately, some worse than others. It made him terribly worried. Thankfully, the illness seems to have run its course through the dormitories.

“Feeling any better?” He raised a brow while sipping his tea.

“Much. Thank you Professor. Really, it means so much.” It was true. You did feel a lot better, not perfect but much better than this morning. This morning you felt like a walking corpse. Snape was a little apprehensive in believing you at first, so he pressed the back of his palm against your forehead.

Seemingly convinced he said, “Anytime L/N. Now you should get up to your dorm. You’ve got makeup assignments after all.” He smirked and got up to retrieve the packet from his desk.

Your face fell. “What?” He returned to set down a folder brimming with paper next to you. You groaned. “I can’t do all of that. I’m sick.” You let out a few fake pathetic coughs.

“Nice try. Now out you go. I’ve got papers to grade.”

You grumbled under your breath and snatched up the folder. Curse O.W.L. year. You made your way to the door of his office, but stopped when he called out to you

“Oh, before you go.” He held out a vial which contained the same potion you took earlier. “Take this in case you aren’t feeling better later.” He tossed it to you and thankfully you caught it.

“Thanks Professor. For everything. Bye!” You slipped out the door and returned to your dorm.

After Snape had spent the day taking care of you, you made a full recovery. You were able to attend classes the following day no problem. Your final class of the day was double potions. Excited to end the day with your favorite Professor, you practically marched into class. Though you didn’t see Snape behind the desk, but rather Professor Sprout. Students all shared confused stares and exchanges until Professor Sprout commanded everyone’s attention and silence fell over the room.

“Good afternoon everyone. I know I’m not your usual potions instructor, but today I will be stepping in for Professor Snape. He seems to have caught a cold.”

[peterbarnes]

Legacy

Summary: Takes place in 1x04 of Hawkeye. You and Clint are trying to find his watch when someone in a mask attacks you. What will you do when you realize the girl you’re fighting is the girl you once loved and lost?

Word Count: 2.6k

Masterlist

You didn’t expect to like Clint. He appeared cold, sometimes even bland. Not like someone you’d ever want to work with. But with the tracksuit mafia plaguing Hell’s Kitchen, you had no choice. 

“Just until this is over,” he told you on the 6 train, pointing a very aggressive finger at you. “Then I go back to my family and you go back to playing hero.”

“You’re one to talk,” you scoffed, leaning back on the bright orange seat beneath you. “You’re literally an Avenger.”

“Not anymore.”

The squeaks of the train filled the tense silence between the two of you. Your hands fiddled with the black mask that sat comfortably on the upper half of your face. Your eyes flickered to the old man beside you whose expression was unreadable.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you not an Avenger anymore?”

Clint sighed, exasperated. His hands went up to his face, rubbing his eyes.

“Not now, [Y/N]-”

“But-”

“No.”

“Clint, I-”

“Being an Avenger lost me everything,” he snapped, slamming his hand against the seat and turning to you. Fire bloomed in his eyes in a way you’d never seen before. “You want this life? Fine. But it’s not what you think. It’ll break you in ways you didn’t know were possible.”

“Too late for that,” you retorted, glaring him down. “How do you think I got involved with this in the first place? I’m not some messiah who thinks they can save the whole world. I lost someone, I want them back- simple as that. The tracksuits and that boss of theirs have to know something, anything. They have underground ties deeper than we think, I know it.”

“Who…who’d you lose?” Clint, for once, sounded sincere. His voice was quieter and laced with empathy. As if he knew exactly what you were going through, which, of course, he did. 

“My girlfriend,” you whispered, trying to fight back the water that was building in the back of your eyes. You couldn’t say her name- you’d start crying if you did. 

I’m gonna get her back. Even if I have to kill every one of them to do it. 

He nodded and turned his eyes to the littered floor of the train car.

“I lost my wife and kids in the blip,” he admitted. 

“That’s the first time you’ve willingly given me a piece of information about yourself,” you joked. He returned it with a surprising chuckle.

“Don’t get used to it.”

-

You hated how cold the air got in New York City during the winter. It bit your nose and stung your cheeks, forcing you to rub your hands together for any sort of relief. 

“Right,” Clint started, walking toward the edge of the roof you two stood on. 

He held a pair of binoculars in his hand comfortably, putting it up to his eyes to spy on one of the apartments across the street. You couldn’t help but smile seeing that one of them had bright, multicolored Christmas lights wrapped around their terrace. 

“The watch is in that apartment,” he said, pointing to the apartment to the right of all the lights. It was completely dark, stale, void of any movement. “You be the lookout. Tell me if you see any movement while I’m in there.”

“Lookout?” You questioned, offense overcoming your tone. “Why am I the lookout?”

“‘Cause you’re the rookie-”

“Rookie?!”

“Look, we don’t have time for this-”

Before he could finish his sentence, someone’s heel flew into his face, sending him staggering back. It all happened so fast you could barely process that someone was actually attacking you. You whipped around to see someone in a black bodysuit. They wore a black mask as well, but unlike yours, it covered their entire face. The night vision goggles they donned lit up the rooftop a bright green, allowing you to see just how bad Clint was getting his ass kicked. 

You immediately jumped into action, running up to the attacker and kicking them right in the gut. They flew back a few feet from the impact, a groan escaping them as they landed on the harsh concrete. They took a few seconds to reset before kicking up from the ground, landing on their feet.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” you whined in envy.

They obviously didn’t care about what you had to say because as soon as their feet hit the ground they charged at you. You blocked most of the brutal punches that were thrown at you, but a few landed right on your jaw, causing you to spit out blood. Your legs throbbed but you kept fighting anyway, sweeping your leg under the attacker. They fell onto the floor before sweeping their leg under yours. You were practically face to face now- or mask to mask. You immediately jumped up, climbing on top of them for leverage. Your legs straddled their waist, pinning them down before snapping your hand back to punch them. But before you could, you felt two legs wrap around your waist, pulling you backward toward the ground. You shut your eyes in pain as your head slammed against the floor, and when you opened them again, the attacker was on top of you, fist pulled back in a form identical to yours. You were at a loss- your legs were trapped under their weight and while your hands were free, the attacker wasn’t close enough for you to punch them in the face with enough force. So, instead, you stretched your hand forward as much as you could. You felt the pull of your limb as your fingers finally grazed the fabric of their mask. You felt them tense and immediately pulled the mask off their head before they could react. 

The first thing you saw was a strand of blonde hair. 

Blonde hair.

Blonde hair. 

“Yelena?”

The words left your mouth in a broken whisper. 

Her eyes widened slightly at the sound of her name, just enough for you to notice. Her fist loosened and her arm wavered, caught in an internal conflict over whether it should stay up or not. Eventually it fell but not to her side, it stopped right in front of your face. Her soft fingers touched your cheek hesitantly. You could see the inquiry in her eyes as she tried to determine if you were who she thought you were. Her hand slowly traveled up to your mask. She reached for the sides of it, carefully pulling it off your eyes and nose. 

You didn’t know what to expect right at that moment, but you didn’t think she’d start sobbing. Let alone as violently and hysterically as she was. She was still straddling you as you shot up from the ground and wrapped your arms around the girl in your lap. You could feel the fall of her tears as she buried her head into the crook of your neck. You squeezed her tightly, your heart aching at how clearly overwhelmed she was. 

You locked eyes with Clint over her shoulder. His eyes were furrowed as he studied the scene in front of him. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t move. He just watched.

“Lena,” you whispered into her hair, which was now falling out of its braid. “How- how are you here? I’ve been looking everywhere for you…I thought maybe…”

Your voice trailed off, the silence forming unsaid words. She tensed under your grasp before slowly taking her head out of your neck. Her eyes were bloodshot and riddled with tears.

“Honey,” you whispered as she desperately tried to wipe them away.

“I-I have a mission,” she said, more to herself than to you. Her tone became increasingly monotone.

“What?-”

She ripped herself out of your embrace, running over to Clint and holding up a dagger to his neck.

Where’d she get that dagger from?

“Yelena!” You called, running up next to them. Clint stood there stoically, still examining Yelena, unsure if he should fight back or not. “Put that dagger down, he’s with me!”

“He’s with you?” She whispered, and venom practically dripped from her lips. 

“Yes, he’s my partner-”

“-That’s a stretch,” Clint chimed in and you sent him a murderous glare.

You turned back to Yelena who looked as though someone had punched her in the gut. She stared at you so intensely, and with such pain, that you didn’t know what to make of it.

“Where you there?” She spat, closing in the dagger on Clint’s neck. The tip was prickling his skin and his breath hitched at the contact. 

“What are you talking about?” You asked, putting your hands up and carefully reaching for the dagger. 

She moved it out of your reach, turning it to point its head at you. Your eyes widened at the burning anger radiating off of her.

“When he murdered my sister!” She screamed. It was a brutal scream, one that you know would hurt her throat later. It was filled with the perfect balance of rage and grief that you felt a piece of your heart chip off at the sound of it.

Clint, on the other hand, was frozen. But you could see the guilt creep up on him unexpectedly. He didn’t need to hear her name to know Yelena was talking about Natasha. And he was clearly biting the inside of his cheek to keep in his emotions. 

“Yelena,” you whispered, sniffling slightly at the weight of the situation. “He didn’t kill her.”

Her eyes bored into yours as she took a step forward, dagger raised. 

“Why would you lie to me?” She asked, her voice cracking. “I thought you loved me.”

“I do,” you asserted as a tear fell down your cheek. “I’m not lying, I swear, Yelena. He was her friend, her best friend. You’ve had to have heard her talk about him before.”

“Of course I have!” She shouted. “That’s why I’m here. She was betrayed by her best friend, and I’m here to avenge her…What do you have to say, huh?”

She turned to Clint and punched him with the handle of the dagger. He dropped to the floor and his hearing aid fell out of his ear a few feet away. You jumped toward it, salvaging it before it could be crushed. You heard a grunt and turned to see Yelena kicking Clint in the stomach while he was hunched over on the floor. 

Enough of this. 

You ran at Yelena, catching her by the waist and knocking her to the floor. You straddled her like before, but made sure to pin both her legs and arms under you. She squirmed under you, trying to break free, and she let out a frustrated scream.

“Yelena!” You yelled as she struggled. “Yelena! Stop!”

At the sheer volume of your voice and its final tone, her body went still, finally taking a beat of rest. You saw her bottom lip quiver as she truly looked at you for the first time since she’d last seen you years ago. 

“[Y/N],” she whimpered, tears leaking from her eyes.

“I know, my love, I know,” you whispered, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “I promise I’m not lying. I made you a promise when we first met, right? That I would never lie to you like they did.”

She nodded weakly and bit her lip in contemplation.

“If he didn’t… then what happened?”

You slowly climbed off of her and turned to Clint who was now sitting up on the floor, like all of you. You grabbed the hearing aid from your pocket and threw it at him- he didn’t hesitate to put it back on.

“She wants to know what happened,” you explained carefully.

He nodded and gritted his teeth as if he knew it would come to this. As if he knew he would eventually have to retell one of the most traumatic moments of his life. 

“We had to get the soul stone if we wanted to complete the gauntlet and bring everyone back. It was on this planet- small, but had this huge mountain. We climbed to the top and there was a man, well, a ghost really. He guarded the stone and… and he said…he said one of us had to sacrifice ourselves. A soul for a soul.”

He clutched his side as if he was stabbed, but really it was just the pain of the words, of the memory, that was wearing him down. Weakening him until he looked like a crumpled piece of paper. 

“Why didn’t you jump?” Yelena asked. But it wasn’t snarky, it wasn’t accusatory. It was words from a girl trying to grasp onto something, anything to know how her sister died. 

“I tried,” Clint breathed out. “I tried. We were both hanging off the side of that cliff, but she hooked my suit to the rock so I wouldn’t fall. I remember holding her hand, trying so hard to pull her up, but I couldn’t. She told me to let go…and when I didn’t, couldn’t, she did.”

All three of you were in tears now. Natasha may not have been there, but her presence loomed, weighing down on all of you. A sister, a friend. 

“I’m sorry,” Clint broke down, looking right at Yelena. “I’m so sorry.”

Yelena sat on her knees, utterly defeated as she realized there would be no satisfying moment where she could avenge her sister. Where she could plunge a blade into someone’s side and not regret it. No one to take her grief out on. No one to help her cope. 

“So, that’s it? We’re just supposed to move on?” Yelena scoffed through her tears, looking up at the sky. “I-I can’t- I don’t know how.”

“You don’t have to forget her, Yelena,” you soothed, rubbing circles onto the back of her vest. “You remember her and you cherish the time that you had with her. You don’t need to kill someone to sustain her legacy- you’re her legacy. And she’d want you to be happy.”

Yelena leaned her head on you shoulder, her cheeks squished as she let out a whimper.

“I don’t know if happiness is possible for me.”

“It is,” you whispered into her hair. “Why don’t you stay with us? We can take care of each other. Try and be normal as much as we can after we take these tracksuit assholes down.”

“Tracksuits?”

“I know, right? They need a new schtick”

She chuckled and you could feel the vibrations on your shoulder. You peeked over to Clint who’s haunted look had somewhat passed. The gears were turning in his head, you could tell, but he was smiling at the two of you. And when he saw you look at him he winked. You’d been his partner- yes, partner- long enough for you to know that meant “good job, kid.”

You shot him back a warm smile before leaning into Yelena further, snuggling her.

“You probably need some sleep, Lena.”

“I need a beer,” she retorted.

“I have some back at the house,” Clint spoke, standing up from the floor with a groan. 

Yelena looked up at him cautiously, but you could see the tension slowly leaving her shoulders as she finally deconstructed the idea that he was a threat from her brain. She sighed before getting up and walking right in front of him, sticking out her small hand. Her face seemed stoic, all business, but the corner of her mouth quirked upwards into a slight smirk. 

No words were said. None were needed. Clint shook Yelena’s hand without hesitation, officially welcoming her to your team, your family. You came up behind her and wrapped a hand around her waist. She grabbed your hand that lay on her side and interlaced your fingers, rubbing her thumb softly over your skin.

“Welcome home, Yelena. Welcome home.”

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

“What’re ya doin’ here?” Daryl was scraping his knife along one side of a dried skin, focusing on it with greater intensity than the task required. The stillness of the damp summer night was punctuated with the pops and crackles from the fire and the drone of cicadas. “S’late. Ya shouldn’t be here. Dun want anybody askin’ questions, do ya?” You’d appeared on the edge of the firelight ringing his camp and before you could come up with some sort of rehearsed statement he had jumped right the important question. Your heart was racing. “I—” That was all you could get out before a heavy sigh escaped you. “I shouldn’t have said that yesterday... I’m sorry.” He looked up and you saw the muscle in his jaw twitch. He had a look in his blue eyes like he was deciding whether or not to accept your apology. “Still ain’t answered my question,” he said, returning his hands to their skillful work.  You gulped. “Can I sit?” you asked, gesturing to a rock at the edge of the fire across from him. He nodded stiffly. “We—I...” You shifted anxiously. “I reacted poorly yesterday and—the whole reason was just because I knew you were right but I was scared,” you said, focusing on your fingernails and ducking your head. He glanced up with a furrowed brow. “Scared?” he repeated. You nodded. “Everything you said... you were right. And I just—I wanted to tell you that and apologize and—” but you broke off short of saying what you’d really come to say, rapidly losing your nerve beneath his intense gaze. You stood up abruptly. “S—sorry to bother you,” you said, hugging your arms over yourself and turning to leave hastily. But something didn’t feel right to Daryl and he was on his feet the next moment. “Hold up.” You turned back to face him somewhat sheepishly and he could see the familiar worry line on your forehead.  His blue eyes were narrowed in scrutiny. “Tha’s all ya came over here for? Ain’t nothin’ else goin’ on? Nothin’ wrong?” he asked. You shrugged and chewed on your bottom lip. His eyes flitted over your face. “C’mon. Ya ain’t a good liar. Least not to me,” he said, pacing a few steps closer. “What happened?” You shrugged again. “We broke up... I mean, I ended it. Today.” Daryl’s heart started to race. “Why?” he asked. You ducked your eyes again. “I told you. You were right about everything...” He moved a few steps closer, so he was merely a foot from you now. “Why?” he asked again.

You gulped and met his blue eyes, which seemed deeper in the twilight. “...Don’t you know?”  Daryl felt like he a feather could’ve knocked him over in that moment. The look in your eyes was staggering, and he couldn’t entirely process what you were telling him. He shifted and managed to nod after a few steadying breaths. He cleared his throat nervously. “Alrigh’... so... what now?” he drawled, softening.  “I—I kind of need a place to stay,” you said sheepishly. “He’s in our tent and—” “Oh. Right. Uhh... yeah. Yeah. ‘Course. Umm—look lemme just tidy up in there and when yer tired ya take the cot and—I’ll just—I can sleep on the floor.” You couldn’t help smiling a little at his nervousness. “You don’t have to sleep on the floor, Daryl. Or... we can make up a bed on the floor and both sleep there... I’m guessing the cot might be a little small... for two.” He stared at you a moment, seemingly frozen. He was trying to process this.  “Daryl? If this is too much, I’m sure I could stay in the farmhouse or something—” “Are ya crazy?” It burst out of him with a look that suggested he thought you must be if you really thought he was about to turn down a night holding you,, sleeping beside you. “Just lemme clean up in there... s’a bit of a mess, is all. ‘N yeah the cot might be a bit small. So. Righ’. Just wait here...” You watched him disappear into his tent and your nerves changed to excited butterflies. You were sure things were going to be difficult with your ex but... frankly, in that moment, you couldn’t care less. Prompt: “I need a place to stay.”