#‘’I’m going to barge into your room without knocking and demand all these things even though other people are already up(. . .)

[mariaofdoranelle]

Look at Us Now - ch. 20

Fic masterlist

I think this is my time to shine with an unhinged A/N! I went to Rio to see Taylor Swift, she postponed my show when I was already inside the stadium enduring so much heat several people were passing out or got 2nd degree burns just to touch metal. Then I had to run from not one, but TWO mass muggings (if there’s even a translation for ‘arrastão’ in english). But now I’m home, on a very long break!! And with every intention to bring back LAUN Thursdays.

I’m also using two prompts! This anon one and this from @autumnbabylon

Warnings: language, light NSFW, a small home explosion

Words: 3,8k

If watching Maisie leave because of their custody arrangement was a painful part of Rowan’s weekly routine, he wasn’t ready for the ache he felt in his chest today, when he watched Aelin go with their little girl as well, after everything that happened in the past hours.

Turns out she was meeting Dorian today to discuss a patient she was seeing tomorrow morning. Even if they worked at different places, they often sought each other out when dealing with a difficult or uncommon case.

It was a bittersweet feeling, being alone after one of the best moments of his life. It all came back in flashes while he tried to clean Maisie’s room and the mess of toys she leaves scattered after her stay. He could barely remember where each toy went because his mind only had space for Aelin’s kisses and hips and soft sighs and the lavender smell that still lingered on his arms.

Rowan felt this joyful heat inside him, as golden as Aelin’s hair, making his hands tingle and giving him a sense of weightlessness he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Aelin barged into his house and demanded things he was preparing himself to beg her. Aelin pressed on his bed, squirming under his touch. Aelin having a lazy Sunday morning while he cooked his girls breakfast. Aelin. Aelin. Aelin.

His mind sounded like a terribly cliché broken record today.

A few knocks on his front door snapped him out of his thoughts. Did Aelin forget something?

A resigned sigh left Rowan’s lips when he realized it was not the blonde he was hoping for.

“Rowie Bowie.” Fenrys’ smirk was too big for his face. “I know something you don’t know I know.”

Before he could forget, Rowan picked the speeding ticket that was sent to his place and handed it to his friend. “You should really update your home address.” A pause. “And drive carefully.”

Fenrys moved out before Maisie could even speak. His bedroom even became a guest room, but the man has yet to change his address in any official records. Rowan didn’t mind as much as he protested, though; at least his friend’s Amazon packages were going to the right place.

“I should’ve gone to Aelin’s with Dor.” Fenrys folded his ticket and shoved it down his pocket as if it were an old napkin, then threw himself on the couch. “I swear to God, Rowan, you tell me every gossip in that base at lightning speed, but when you and Aelin finally—“

“You know I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Well, Aelin is telling right now. Over Adarlanian candy.”

Rowan chuckled and grabbed two beers in his fridge, then tossed one to Fenrys. ‘Kiss and tell’ sounded like such a diminishing way to put what happened last night, but the message was still the same. He didn’t mind how Aelin processed what happened and if she talked about him to her friends, it just wasn’t his style.

“Dorian was in Rifthold this week?” Rowan changed the subject, finally catching on the ‘Adarlanian candy’ comment.

Being a self-employed doctor gave the man a flexible work schedule, something that Fenrys could only dream of, working in the military. Dorian always waited for Fen’s breaks to go on trips, but Rowan saw how his friend looked like a lost puppy whenever his boyfriend left for medical conferences or to visit his family in Rifthold without taking him.

“Yeah. When he came back, he suggested we take the next step in our relationship.” Fenrys had a silly smile on his face, eyes trained on the beer bottle he clutched. “I’m very excited about it.”

Rowan sat back, surprised. “You’re getting married?”

“Not yet. We’re not ready,” said the man who’s been living with his boyfriend for about five years. Rowan wouldn’t mention it, though.

“You’re becoming exclusive?”

“Nope. Would you let me finish?”

Rowan raised his brows, a silent request to proceed, and watched his friend’s expression slowly melt.

Fen continued, “We’re adopting.”

Wow. Rowan’s mouth fell open, and he couldn’t quite find the words. Fatherhood is no joke, so this was the last thing he expected to hear from his most unserious friend, but he was so incredibly thrilled for Fenrys. He would absolutely nail it, just like he did everything he set his mind to.

“That’s amazing, Fen.” Rowan sipped his beer. “So Maisie gets a playmate, huh?”

“You bet she does,” he chirped, beaming. “We don’t have a lot figured out yet, and Dor’s still picking the breed, but I’m so excited.”

“The… breed?” Rowan trailed.

“Dor’s really into this dog breed stuff, so I’m letting him call the shots. I don’t care about that, I’m just happy to have a puppy.”

Oh. They’re adopting a dog, not a human. Now that Rowan thought about it, it made more sense.

They chatted a little more in his living room, and it was in the middle of a heated discussion about a colonel’s love life—more specifically, his excess of mistresses inside base—that Rowan’s phone chimed.

It was Aelin, and he was confused to hear Maisie’s screeching while her mother tried to talk to him. “What happened?”

“She wants to—“

“WANNA SEE THE PUPPIES,” Maisie interrupted.

Aelin sighed. “She just learned what an adoption fair is, and—“

It was hard to hear her over their daughter’s screams, especially because Aelin liked to look collected when Maisie threw a tantrum, which meant no shouting over her. However, Rowan understood her saying something along the lines of “It’s on your weekend with her.”

So that was the issue. Rowan was still a little confused, but it sounded like Aelin couldn’t give Maisie permission to go right away because it would be during his parenting time, and the little girl lost it.

“Hey, um—“ he cleared his throat. “Can you hand the phone to Maisie? I’ll put it on FaceTime.”

In the meantime, he cast a glance at Fenrys, grimacing. “I think Maisie wants to go to the adoption fair with you.”

His friend didn’t look up from his phone, smiling. There was a chance Dorian was texting him that right now. “Good. I bet she’s better at finding cute dogs than Dor.”

Over the phone, after hearing the story again from his daughter’s lips, Rowan looked deep into Maisie’s puffy eyes, using his serious dad voice to ask, “Did Uncle Dorian invite you to see the puppies, or you invited yourself?”

The last thing he wanted was to intrude in the couple’s plans, and he knew Maisie wasn’t beyond that to see puppies.

Yet, she shook her head. “He asked me. I promise.”

“Okay, then.” Rowan’s warning stare didn’t relieve Maisie yet. “But…”

His last word hung in the air, filling his daughter’s hopeful, wide eyes. Everyone joked about how every Whitethorn had the exact same set of pine-green eyes, yet Maisie’s were his favorite. He would do anything to never see them tainted with red, absolutely hated when his little girl cried, but he still needed to set boundaries.

“We’re not adopting any dog, okay? You can play with them, you can help your uncles pick theirs, but we’re not bringing a puppy home.”

Maisie agreed to his terms without protest, though he didn’t know for how long. Rowan sloped back on his couch when the phone call ended, waiting for Fenrys to finish raiding his fridge.

“Dor got you real good, man,” he said on his way back, holding two beers and a plate of Aelin’s chocolate cake. “Munchkin will call herself Ryder and make your life hell until you adopt an entire Paw Patrol for her.”

Rowan snorted, knowing his friend was absolutely right. But that’s okay, he also had faith in his own parenting skills. Being a five-year-old’s dad meant he had some pretty good bribes up his sleeve.

˜˜

Rowan should’ve known he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands away from Aelin for long.

His restlessness restarted after Dorian picked Fenrys up in his house to leave, and it was almost embarrassing how little he contained himself before speed walking the way that led to Aelin’s house.

Now she sat on her office’s desk, legs wrapped around him, right beside the medical books and magazines she should be reading now.

“We’ll have more time later if I just—oh, fuck.”

Rowan swallowed her whimper with a kiss, both hands on her ribcage while his thumbs teased her nipples under her shirt, through her lacy bra. Aelin pressed herself against him as if they could get any closer, and the weight of his length on her made her chase more friction in that area, biting his lip as she did.

“Did you lock the door?”

“Yes.” Rowan kissed the spot between her neck and her shoulder, careful not to leave a mark. It meant more trouble than it’s worth in their line of work. “But you still need to keep quiet.”

She chuckled, her breath fanned against his neck and made him want to do unspeakable—

“Don’t you think she’s too quiet?”

Her sentence sliced through his lustful haze. This was a dangerous sign, some of his most traumatizing moments as a parent started when Maisie was quiet for too long. He did some parent math in his head. Aelin’s clothes were still on, so they weren't gone too long. But he had a feeling it was longer than he should leave his kid unattended.

Rowan took a step back. “I should go check on her.”

Her bittersweet smile said she agreed, but Aelin was quick to tug him closer again, though it lacked the heat from when she did it minutes ago. “But it’s really rude to leave me hot and bothered like this.”

His reply was a noncommittal huh, too distracted by the smirk on her lips to think of a smart retort.

“Uh-huh. And I’ll only forgive you if you stay the night.”

Rowan smirked. “I guess I have no choice. I can’t leave unforgiven after such a great offense.”

She gave him one last kiss, though it was a bit hard amongst all the grinning, and sat back on the chair behind her books. He took the room in while giving himself time to cool down after their make-out session. Their houses had the exact same layout, but she used as an office the room Rowan used as a guest room, formerly Fenrys’ old room. The thought made him snort, calling her attention. He could trust Aelin to turn one of the biggest rooms in the house into a library.

She squinted her eyes at him. “What’re you laughing at?”

“Did you know that Maisie’s been telling her friends that her mother’s office doesn’t have walls, just books?”

“Yeah, I got that email too.” Aelin’s voice was amused.

Rowan stepped around the room, reading the books’ spines. Her office was nothing more than four walls of shelves, a couch by the window and a big desk with her computer in the middle. And a smell that kept Aedion and his allergies away from here.

The most frequent genre was medical books, but they weren’t even a third of them all. She just had everything there. Modern and classics. Fantasy and non-fiction. Horror and romance. At the latter section, Rowan’s eyes went up, away from what Maisie’s prying eyes could reach, and finally found what he was looking for.

“What’re you looking for?” Aelin asked, her voice as grave as a crime scene tape. Do not cross.

But it was too late for her, because he already found what he wanted. The Wrong Mr. Right. The Darkest Temptation. Doctor Daddy. Forbidden Single Dad. He tugged at a random one, wondering if he’d find a shirtless man in the cover.

“Put it back!”

The smirk Rowan concealed with a mocking pout was near transparent. “But I want to see if the pages are sticky.”

“Rowan Whitethorn.” Aelin got up from her chair. “You. Are. Ridiculous.” She pointed at the locked door. “Now go! You have a daughter to feed.”

In the living room, he found Maisie lying on her stomach on her play mat. Rowan’s chest warmed at the sight of his little angel. He kept his steps light, ready to sneak up on her. She was just playing on his phone, and to think he thought she’d—

What he saw on the screen was enough to sour his mood.

“Maisie.” Rowan used his stern dad voice, making the little girl stiffen. “What did we talk about games with guns?”

“Daddy.” Maisie’s voice was just as serious, maybe too stern for her height. “You’re a good man, but I can’t accept that.”

He didn’t argue, just outstretched his hand, waiting for her to give the phone back.

She complied with a frown. “Uncle Fen says you work with guns.”

Phones and Fenrys. Two of the long list of things he couldn’t leave Maisie with unsupervised. It wasn’t his favorite class to teach, but Rowan occasionally taught Gun Safety, mostly when there was a shortage of instructors or when Lorcan got mad at Fenrys for letting the new recruits cosplay James Bond with the guns. Not the kind of knowledge he wanted his five-year-old to have, though.

“Sometimes, I teach young people how to be responsible when they’re carrying a gun. It’s very different from those games you want to play.”

“Sounds boring.”

“Very. Now let’s make your mom some tea.”

Rowan set Maisie with a coloring book in the dining table while he looked for a snack to give Aelin while she studied in the office. When he found the tea bags and cookies, Rowan struggled to start the stove. In fact, after further inspection, half the knobs weren’t working.

“Mais, did your mom tell you anything about the stove?”

“She says we need a new one,” his daughter said without taking her eyes off her art piece.

Sounds like Aelin. Of course she’d try to buy a new one without even trying to fix this one. Stoves weren’t his area of expertise, but anyone could fix anything in the Youtube Era.

Which led him back to an issue he was currently dealing with, Rowan mused as he searched for Aelin’s limited toolbox. He failed Aelin when she needed him the most. She pushed him away and hid major stuff of her life from him because she found him unreliable and untrustworthy. Yes, they were together now, but Rowan knew damn well that having sex wouldn’t rebuild her trust in him.

Aelin told him she loved him, and he believed her. But lack of love wasn’t the reason his family broke apart years ago. Now she was giving him one more chance, and Rowan would be damned if he wasted it.

To his luck, Maisie was being a good sport while he tried to fix the stove. Apart from taking a look at the insides of it when he took off the knobs and the cover of the control panel, she kept to her coloring book. Not having to wrangle her gave him space to think.

His session with Yrene was nice, but it wouldn’t happen again. At the end, she recommended other therapists for Rowan and suggested they stay just with family therapy. He had a suspicion it was because he—very subtly—kept trying to pry out of Yrene Aelin’s opinions on everything he talked about.

But it was better than he anticipated. She helped him organize his thoughts and come up with own advice to himself. She’s great, or at least better at this than Fenrys. Rowan even scheduled another appointment with one of her recommendations, mostly because he still had some things to consider regarding Aelin.

Spiraling in his own self-loathing wouldn’t fix anything, but that didn’t mean his feelings had changed. Rowan was just moving forward and trying to fix things at the same time he dealt with his fucked-up conscience.

He had no idea how to gain Aelin’s trust again. But, today, he’d fix her stove. Rowan inspected the knobs for dirt. Cleaned the contacts. Checked for loose wires. Managed to keep the kid alive while she read medical journals. When Aelin left her office today, would she see herself relying on him like this in the long term, and not just this Sunday?

“I think we’re done here, Mais,” he said after reassembling everything.

“Finally!” His daughter jumped off the chair. “Daddy, this was sooo…” Maisie dragged the adverb for as long as her breath allowed. “boring.”

He lightly tugged on one of her pigtails. “But if I got it right, I’ll be able to cook whatever you want. How about that?”

The girl’s eyes lit up at that, and there was nothing else for Rowan to do than test. He had a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach as he turned the stove on.

Every single knob was working on full power.

Rowan let out a borderline arrogant laugh, his chest radiating with warmth as he picked Maisie up. “Are you seeing that?”

She threw both arms up. “We did it!”

He smacked a kiss at her cheek. He was smug, yes, but not enough to tell Maisie she didn’t do anything. His daughter could take all the credit she wanted.

After putting her back on the floor, he picked his phone to record this, since he didn’t want to interrupt Aelin’s study session.

“Hey, Aelin,” he said with the camera pointed at the working stove. “I cleaned it on the inside and fixed some loose wires. All six knobs are working now, as you can see. Now I’m gonna close one by one…”

As soon as the fire dimmed in the first knob he closed, it resurged a lot higher with a loud bang. Maisie’s loud scream was what unfroze him, making him disconnect the power source while loud footsteps came from the hallway.

“What was that?” Aelin asked, eyes wide from the kitchen door.

“Um—“

“DADDY KILLED THE STOVE.”

The little traitor. Hadn’t they fixed it together?

He made sure Maisie was alright, then explained everything to Aelin, even showed her the video. While he did it, Rowan expected everything. Anger, annoyance, frustration.

He just didn’t expect Aelin to throw her head back and cackle.

“You silly Buzzard.” She caressed his cheek with her thumb. “You didn’t have to do all this. I already bought a cooktop way cooler than this old thing.”

His face fell. “You did what?”

She wiggled her eyebrows at Maisie. “Now that there’s no stove, I guess we’ll have to eat pizza for dinner.”

The little girl cheered, bringing a smile to his face. He squeezed Aelin’s hand. “I’ll order one when you’re finished.”

It’s the least he could do, after completely butchering her half-working stove.

“Nah.” Aelin sneaked a peck when Maisie had her back to them. “Enough studying for today.”

˜˜

After putting Maisie to sleep, Aelin was telling him about the little parts of her day that he didn’t experience firsthand.

“Are you sure you don’t want one?” She offered the candy Dorian brought from Adarlan. Apparently, it was one of his most important obligations as her best friend whenever he visited his family. She had her favorites, but he often added some new ones for her to try.

“I’ll pass, but thanks.”

At first, it was really hard to understand the nature of Aelin’s relationship with Dorian. The fact that they’re thick as thieves despite being exes, were together and with other people at the same time with no jealousy… it’s a lot to grasp. Rowan didn’t think he ever would, but he did understand that whatever she had with Dorian didn’t impact her romantic feelings towards him, and that’s all he needed to know.

Besides, it was transparent how in love he was with Fenrys, in their own modern, slutty way. Rowan only had to thank the man for taking care of two of his favorite people.

“There’s this other thing…” Aelin trailed, biting her lip. The change in her expression was enough to pique his interest, especially when he saw the bag she retrieved from under her bed.

“Jizz and Bone?” He read out loud the name on the bag with a questioning tone, eyes widening at the suggestive logo.

“Yes.” Aelin’s face wasn’t half as serious as she was trying to make it look. “This is from Fen’s and Dorian’s favorite gay sex shop, but it’s just chocolate—“

“Are you telling me he bought you gay chocolate? Is that a thing?”

“Yes.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him. “And it’s not even the gayest thing I’m putting in my mouth tonight.”

Rowan pinched her side, making the little smart-ass squeal. He could always count on Aelin to keep the most embarrassing moments of his life alive. “You’re gonna explain the chocolate or not?”

“Yes!” She gave herself a moment to die down from laughing. “He bought it for himself, but gave me a bar when I told him we got together. It’s aphrodisiac chocolate.”

“Lovely.” Rowan made a show of pretending to look at it before giving it back to her. “But I don’t like chocolate.”

“But you love steamy sex.”

Rowan sighed. That he did. “Aelin…” he flipped her so he could cage her in the bed, hovering over her. He nipped her pulse point before whispering in her ear, “Take a quick look in the mirror, and you’ll see why I don’t need chocolate to turn me on.”

She shivered, but still grabbed his hair and made their eyes meet to say, “I want to try it. If you’re not a willing participant, I can try alone tomorrow with my vibra—“

Rowan groaned in protest, but rolled off of her to put the recommended dose of aphrodisiac chocolate in his mouth. He winced at the sweet taste, mixed with velvety flavors and exotic spices, but at least it was better than he expected. Aelin did the same, though she looked a lot more pleased with the taste.

They set a timer for thirty minutes as they were oriented to in the box, since Aelin wanted to do a precise evaluation, in her own words, and she continued to talk about her day. As much as she tried to make it sound simple, it took only a few minutes for Rowan to accept that he’d never understand her doctor talk, so he just nodded along and reacted according to her facial expressions. She could be talking absolute nonsense with an angry face just to get an equally angry reaction from him, he’d never know.

Aelin frowned when the timer went off. “I don’t feel anything. Did the chocolate work with you?”

“I never hoped it would.”

“Shame.” Aelin sighed. “Wanna fuck anyway?”

It was record-breaking, the speed in which Rowan pulled her to his lap.

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#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #throne of glass #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #look at us now #rowaelin fanfic #throne of glass fanfic

[imhereformysciencefriends]

Uncle Techno & Michael

@peerpressureweek DAY 7 WE DID IT

Techno was used to Ranboo coming into his house without knocking. It just wasn’t a sustainable practice, seeing as only a small handful of people lived out this far, and Ranboo needed frequent access to Techno’s basement for glass. Techno was pretty much used to it by now, his ear and sometimes his dogs twitching in Ranboo’s direction before laying back down, but that was usually while the sun was up. The birdS would typically be singing. Ranboo did not often careen through Techno’s door mid-blizzard, wind howling and bundle clutched close to his chest.

“Ranboo?” Techno asked as he staggered backwards, using his shoulder blades to slam the door shut. This put distance between himself and Techno’s other guest, “Tubbo?”

“Hiiii, Technoblade! Sorry to barge in like this?” Tubbo tried. The two were still awkward around each other, despite their stint as The Revengers, living right next to each other, and Ranboo’s revival.

“Yeah, no, welcome. Make yourselves at home. In my home. Which is, notably, not your own?”

“Furnace went out,” Ranboo muttered by way of explanation, setting his bundle down in front of Techno’s fireplace, nudging Steve over with a foot. “I would be fine, but Tubbo and Michael are warm blooded.”

“True,” Technoblade intoned, watching Ranboo half-unswaddle Michael so he could get a little more direct firelight. “And you picked my house?” Wait, no, that sounded wrong, “Not that I’m complainin’! Not that I am complainin’, you know I’m always happy to have you—all three of you—but, you know, Phil is also right here and Connor’s closer to you.”

Tubbo snorted. “Connor is going to freeze to death. I don’t know how he hasn’t yet.”

Techno once again declined to bring up the fact that Connor was already a ghost. “That’s fair. That’s fair. He doesn’t get a lot of uhhhh, yeah, yeah, probably not his house then.”

Ranboo shrugged. “I just knew we needed to go somewhere warm and this was the first place I thought of.”

He was a little different, since coming back. Less shy, maybe, or it could be that he was just more inclined to say the things he was feeling without worrying about other people’s reactions. In this situation, the fact that Ranboo thinkin’ of Techno first totally and definitely didn’t warm his heart at all. Did not warm his heart at! All!

“Yeah, well, you’re welcome to stay until the storm blows over. I was just about to head to bed.”

“Right. Should we, uh,” Tubbo looked around the room. Techno’s couch was nice, but hardly big enough to fit two people and a toddler.

“You can join me in the bed. It should be big enough for all of us.” Techno had built it the same day he’d rescued Phil from house arrest, the man’s impressive wingspan requiring a larger bed than most and the fact that the two of them needed to share (at least until Phil’s own house was built) meaning that Techno’s previous bed had been nowhere near large enough. Even after Phil had moved out into a home of his own, Techno had been too lazy to switch the bed back, so now he had a small kingdom’s worth of mattressed land ready for use. Plus, Ranboo was skinny and Michael was a baby, how much room could the three of them possibly take up?

“Up!” Michael demanded, facing Techno and not, you know, one of his dads. Techno grumbled something that probably wouldn't have saved his reputation even if they had heard it, and picked up the bundle of babyboy and blankets. Michael made a happy and altogether too high pitched noise, very close to Techno’s ear, mind you, and Techno grumbled again.

“Alright, bedtime for the children in my house.”

“We are both adults.”

“Sure, Ranboo, up you go.”

The big bed did in fact fit them all, Techno with his back to the wall and Michael happily snuggled up in the middle. Techno tried to find a good place for his arms that didn’t wind up draped on top of the small child. He had big arms! What if he crushed the kid!! Michael was so small, Technoblade wasn’t used to small creatures. What if his arm was heavy enough he crushed Michael’s little chest underneath the weight of it and his pupil’s kid died?

Tubbo, fortunately, did not share Techno’s hangups, bundling Michael close to his chest, and Ranboo’s arms twined around Tubbo, staring at Techno from over the young man’s hair.

Techno squinted at him.

Ranboo seemed only more amused.

Techno huffed. “You tell me what to do with my arms then.”

Ranboo laughed, and while he was definitely laughing at Techno, it didn’t feel mean. “He’s a kid, not honeycomb. You can snuggle him,” Ranboo allowed, and Techno snorted again. But, delicately, he rested one big hand on top of Michael’s little hip, and the snoozing child gave a happy little chuff that made Techno’s stomach flip flop about.

“There, see? You didn’t even break him.”

“Sarcasm from my own pupil. From my own pupil! I can’t believe this.”

It got a small, sweet laugh from Tubbo, and Techno did not feel hopeful and soft at that, either. Any accusations or lies leveled against his emotional state would be dealt with via duel to the death. Ranboo nuzzled against his husband’s hair.

Tubbo drifted off next, and Techno was fairly surprised at that, given how highstrung and paranoid the guy was. It was either a testament to just how tired he was, or that Techno had mended the bridge with him a little better than he’d thought.

“Thanks,” Ranboo murmured, quiet and soft into the night, low enough to not wake the others.

Techno made a soft grunt of his own, questioning.

Ranboo’s hand caressed his sleeping child, and then his spouse. “Trust doesn’t come easy to Tubbo.” Yeah. Techno knew that. “I rarely get to see him relax. It means something. So. Thanks.”

Techno really needed to stop underestimating Ranboo’s ability to touch his heart. Really. Just. Mmmmmm, sleep, not lookin’ at feelings head on, sleep time, goin’ to bed.

But even as successfully as Techno was at Not Thinking About It, he was the last awake in the quiet room, Michael snuffling against him.

#dream smp #prpweek #technoblade #ranboo #tubbo #michael the piglin #dsmp #peerpressureduo #peer pressure duo #uncle techno #my writing #mine #haro writes

[quitesins]

Frustration

Masterlist | Read on AO3

Bakugou x fem!reader

Tags: 18+, Nsfw/ Smut, aged up! Bakugou, pro Hero! Bakugou, oneshot, office sex, degradation, name calling, kinda soft tho, he cums inside? [practice safe sex guys], slight exhibitionism, unrealistic cervix touching [no science just horny!], mentions of unspecified medication, not beta read, based off a whole meme I found, author note at the end!

After weeks of being unable to get off, you’re miserable and the office is starting to get sick of your attitude. Particularly Bakugou, who’s determined to figure out what the fuck has you so worked up in the first place.

Even Bakugou was slightly worried, the hot headed blond side eyeing you each time you huff as the copier jams.

You had been like this all week, in a mood, not particularly upset but evidently frustrated. Kirishima tried talking to you, the more friendly of the hero bunch, but you just waved him off, a faux smile silently threatening him to back off. The entire office was put off by your agitation, but no one could really say anything, you got your work done and… you weren’t a bigger bother than your own boss, Bakugou.

Still, you were definitely being difficult, Bakugou has known you since UA, eventually hiring you as his own agency’s manager. Of course he spent half his years in UA bickering with you, but he couldn’t deny your skill. Sure you may have hated his guts too, but the pay was unreal, and he wasn’t too bad of a hero himself.

However even the pay couldn't get you through this week, everything seeming to tick you off, the playful remarks between you and your boss, now genuine bites of snark. Bakugou wouldn’t admit it but there was a small twinge of guilt already festering. He wasn’t even sure why, yet he couldn’t put your foul mood past him, after all, he wasn’t the nicest of people to be around either.

So he tried, to figure out the reason behind your iciness, in his own- Bakugou way.

“The fuck is wrong with you.”

The brash voice, that broke the calm silence of your office, startled you, the creaking of the door still going as he had just barged in.

You collected yourself and shot up, glaring straight at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Look, in the most respectful way possible-” Bakugou walked closer to your desk, staring you down. “-What the fuck is wrong with you.”

That didn’t answer your question, still confused, so you had given him the finger, telling him to get lost.

He didn’t, of course, instead he opted to inch closer, almost across the desk.

“This shit, you’re always so angry, if I did something just spit it out.”

Without responding you looked away, it’s not that you didn’t have an answer… you just didn’t want to say it.

Ever so perceptive, he noticed that, his mission now to drag the reason out of you.

“Are you hungry?” As much as the man was smart, he could also be quite the idiot.

“What- no?” He made you sound like a damn toddler, moody and unable to word why.

“Well the fuck is it then…” He watched you resume to your seat, taking his own in one of the sofas in your room, tempted to kick up his feet on the table nearby, but he had already risked enough with his comment. “Is it because I drank all the coffee on Monday.”

It’s a better guess, but his tapping at your new white settee made you seethe.

“Kats’, i’m not angry at all, you’re imagining things.”

Your eyebrow twitched as his legs raised, to rest against the side of your sofa, you already saw scuff marks that would remain from his filthy shoes.

“Yeah, and that look isn’t one that says ‘I’ll kill you for dirtying my seat.’”

You couldn’t believe him, the gall to casually saunter in without knocking and then deliberately mess up the best investment you’d made for this company.

Getting up, you stomped over to the door, opening it and demanding, “Get out, now.”

In a show of surrender, he got up, walking over to the door. He was still intent on bringing the source of your frustrations out, but even he could tell he was not going about it the right way.

Still, he had to get one last word in before he left.

“Acting like you haven’t been fucked in weeks.” It was just a snide comment, a huff if anything, but it’s that that had you stilling.

It was true, well half true. Past weeks you’d tried anything, calling up old flings, tempted to text an ex, already having tried yourself, but nothing was working… nothing could make you cum. So perhaps you were a bit cranky, but several nights of ruined orgasms, one after the other, what else were you meant to feel. Those damn tablets, starting some new medication, it had just made you numb down there, nothing turning you on, leading you to absolute misery.

You must have been pondering for too long, because the lack of response made Bakugou’s eyes widen, then narrow as a small smirk started to slither onto his face.

“It is that, isn’t it?” The lowered chuckle broke you from your stupor, taking your boss in view, now closer, eyes darker, voice deeper. “You haven’t been fucked.”

“That’s not-” He didn’t let you continue, cutting you off as he edged closer, his breath fanning your ears.

“Haven’t had this pussy satisfied have you?” Deft fingers crept past your hips, slipping under the elastic of your skirt, letting it snap back in place and making you jump.

Maybe you were so pent up you finally had lost it, but the man in front of you, tall and towering over you, thick arms, face sculpted like a statue, your stomach fluttered at the sight of him.

Embers seared into your own stare, a lustful glow silently asking permission to burn, to kiss you with passion. And you assented, allowing yourself to be swept up by the fire, his mouth moving with such fervour against yours, his hands bringing your body to press against his. It was messy, almost angry, but you couldn’t help but melt at his touch.

“Tell me you don’t want this, sweetheart, and I’ll stop right now, I’ll leave.” Bakugou pulled away, letting out a huff before putting his forehead against yours. “But kiss me again, and I’ll fuck you till you’re numb.”

You didn’t even think, you just pushed your lips back onto his, wrapping your arms around him as he hoisted your legs around his waist.

It wasn’t until your back hit your desk, did you notice how far he had carried you, how far your skirt had ridden up, and how hard he was, even through his slacks.

“See something you want?” That dastardly smirk was back on his face, and you could feel it again as his lips kissed against your neck, while his fingers undid the buttons of your shirt. “You’ll get it soon enough.”

You couldn’t help but keen as he unclasped your bra, latching onto your breasts, palming himself at the sweet sounds that escaped you. He never thought he’d have you like this, his stuck up manager, who he wouldn’t admit he admired, whimpering as his fingers drew closer to your core.

He could’ve came right there, hearing that startled gasp as he finally reached your panties, already dampened by his ministrations.

Your breath hitched as his finger circled your entrance, bringing the evidence of your lust up to your clit, pressing lightly before dipping back down again. You needed something inside but Bakugou’s smile was telling; you weren’t getting anything until you begged.

“Come on princess, tell me what you want.” After your hips had pressed closer to his fingers, he snatched them away, a slap to your thighs making you tremble. “I’ll give you anything, just tell me.”

“In-inside,” you panted out, eyes teary, you needed him so bad, after weeks of nothing, the sudden rush of arousal left you insatiable.

The blond almost wanted to tease a little longer,but the mere sight of you was making him impatient, so he plunged a finger into your hole, grinning at how your eyes widened.

Clenching around his finger, you felt the rivulets of your slick as he pumped in and out, soon he had moved onto his second finger, and then third, prepping you well for what you had been waiting for.

Hearing the clink of a belt, your eyes immediately latched onto Bakugou’s cock, and you damn near salivated.

It was fucking big.

Curved slightly, head flushed pink, a tuft of blonde by the base, if you didn’t have that inside of you any minute now, you were sure to start crying.

“J-just fuck me.” It had meant to leave an order, but your stutter only made him laugh.

“Look at you, so eager.” He pressed the head into your slick, letting the fluid coat itself onto his cock, then tapping it against your clit. “Horny fucking slut, in your office, where anyone could walk in.”

“I need you.” Unsure you could take another second without him inside you, you pleaded. “Please put it in.”

With a deep groan, he inserted the tip in, bringing himself towards you, kissing at the side of your mouth, “Tell me if it’s too much.”

There was a honest layer of concern within his voice, a genuine care, and beyond everything, your frustration, your arousal, in that moment you could only smile. “I will.”

As he inched further in, his own breath staggered, the plush walls of your insides encasing his cock, shaping itself around him, as if you were made for him.

“F-fuck, you’re perfect.” was the only thing he could spit out, stilling as he reached his hilt, your own throat struggling to let out a breath.

After a moment of being entwined in each other's embrace, you finally let out the whimper to move, and so he did.

He fucked you hard, but not fast, rather it was slow and deep. Bringing himself out to the tip before slamming himself back in with a force that made you choke. The constant motion, alongside the circles he was persistent on rubbing at your clit, had you moaning, drawing closer to you end.

“Sweet girl, look at you.” His teeth glinted as they barred. “Such a mess for me already.”

The sickening squelch of your fluids, with each thrust, was testament to that, the drag of his cock filling you up till you crumbled underneath him.

Letting out another short gasp, you felt his cock hit that particular spot inside of you, and when he noticed, he didn’t let up, grazing it again and again and again.

“Kat-katsuki, fuck I’m gonna.” He knew, just by the way you tightened around him, the way your eyes squeezed shut, the way your voice pitched higher, louder and sweeter.

“Me too, pretty girl,” he huffed out against your skin. “Think you can hold out a little?”

You nodded fervently, craving to obey him, aching to make him proud.

“You’re so fucking cute, princess, too fucking cute.” Bakugou cut off as his lips fell back to yours, kissing you with a softness that you hadn’t felt before, making you whimper into the kiss.

You felt his cock twitch inside you, and that only made your pussy clench around him. His fingers still on your clit, length kissing your cervix, and his mouth sucking at yours, you came with a sudden cry.

And so did he, the wetness of your walls, clamping down onto him, like it didn’t want to let go, the melodies of your voice, the damn tears that had started to collect by your glistening eyes, it was all too much.

The two of you simply floated in the feeling of your high. The tickle of his ash blond hair against your forehead, the languid trail of kisses he left upon your neck and the feeling of his cock still burried deep within, you were in heaven.

Soon the stickiness of sex became unpleasant , the desk incredibly uncomfortable and you both shifted, Katsuki slipping out while you adjusted to the emptiness.

You wobbled slightly, trying to get up on your feet, before Katsuki brought an arm around you, then picking you up to place you on the sofa. Forgetting all about how new they were, you warmed at the show of affection.

“I’ll get us some water, then something else to wear,” he said, clothing himself and coming back to you, stroking a stay hair away from your face before kissing your temple. “You alright?”

Humming, you nodded as he passed you your shirt, using it to cover yourself, a sweet makeshift blanket. He went in for another kiss, but as he attempted to detach, you tugged on the half done shirt he had on.

“We should do this again.” After the weeks of irritation, you weren’t going to lose the only man who could make you cum. And perhaps the man you’d been secretly pining for.

Air left his nose with a playful snicker, returning to smile onto your kiss. “Let me take you on a date first.”

Not particularly my best work and it’s definitely rushed, but I saw this meme and started cracking up a while ago and it lead to this thought. Ty for reading!!

Edit: changed a few lines that I disliked writing but had nothing else on the mind… think they new lines sound much better [06/01/22]

#katsuki bakugo imagine #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugou fic #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou x reader #bakugou x fem!reader #pro hero bakugou #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou smut #coworkers to lovers #enemies to lovers #mha x reader #mha fic #mha fanfic #bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #female reader #quite sinner

[erodasfishtacos]

HSLOT PHILLY

Like, comment, share, and come talk if you enjoyed the fic.

I write for free - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here.

-

Harry is predictable.

He falls into the same patterns during every tour since he was on the Up All Night with One Direction.

The excitement that comes with the first couple of shows begins to fade as he starts his world wide tour that doesn’t end for nearly eight months.

His constant adrenaline wears off and his exhaustion from not having toured in two years settles deep in his bones.

YN senses it from a mile away, has nearly eleven years experience dealing with her jet-lagged, exhausted, and stubborn husband.

It hits the day of the Philadelphia show, they got in late the night before, and YN always set her alarm for seven thirty in the morning to workout.

Ninety-five percent of the time, Harry got up with her and they either did a jog around the new city or they took advantage of the in-hotel gym.

Four percent of the time, he would whine and tug the comforter over his head, whimpering, “M’too tired, baby. Stay in bed w’me.”

And then the one percent, which was today.

The alarm emits a low, constant beep that rouses YN, in the time she takes to rub her eye and come back into reality - Harry hisses with a sharp edge, “Turn tha’ fuckin’ thing off.”

She bites her tongue at his tone, reaching to turn it off but she can already tell what day they’re going to have.

YN slips out from under the covers and automatically gets a comment from her husband, it another whiney demand, “Cover m’feet, y’too the blanket off them.”

“Yes, your majesty,” YN replies reproachfully, rearranging the blankets before quietly moving around the room to change.

“Stop makin’ so much noise.”

“Turn off tha’ light.”

“S’too early f’this, d’you not care that m’tired?”

She chooses to ignore the remarks, hoping that he can sleep off the attitude.

When YN is about to leave, he grumbles, “Y’need to kiss me goodbye.”

Harry purses his lips for a soft kiss, not moving a muscle, and after that - she leaves to head down to the gym.

YN is required a body guard, definitely when she isn’t with Harry or a group of people, and she decided not to follow those rules today.

She had her TPWK water bottle in hand, a cute workout set on ***, and her AirPods tucked in her ear with some Spice Girls playing.

It’s only about twenty minutes into her exercise, a light jog on the treadmill, that a young girl slips up beside the machine.

YN is kind, stopping the belt to smile for a selfie before the girl scampers off and she resumes her run - music blasting.

However, what YN didn’t know, is that fans had found out early in the morning which hotel they where at and a hoard was rushing towards the small gym.

It’s not even ten minutes later when a swarm of fans in rushing into the work area, lining up around her machine with their phones flashing and recording.

She tries to be nice, “Hey! Uh, I’m just trying to workout. I’m sorry, but no pictures please.”

Then there is loud protest and people shoving each other, begging and pleading for a selfie or for her to sign something - all because she was Harry’s wife.

There is literally no exit to escape to, so she relents and anxiously calls Frank - one of the body guards - to come retrieve her.

-

The whole way back up to her hotel room, Frank is lecturing her about safety and how she could have gotten hurt.

And when he scans the keycard for her hotel room, she feels her stomach drop because Harry is sat against the kitchen counter.

His brown locks are rumpled and going every which way, just in his briefs that are low on his narrow hips, and absolutely irate expression on his face.

“Are y’fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” Harry snaps, brow furrowed and jaw clenched - his arms were crossed tightly against his chest.

“Good morning to you, sunshine,” YN mutters, shutting the door and kicking off her tennis shoes to the side.

“Don’t,” Harry replies sourly, “Please explain t’me why I get woken up by Frank to be told y’getting mobbed in the gym? And y’didn’t to call him.”

YN bristles at his tone, giving him a pointed look as she steps further into the room, “It’s not a big deal. I just wasn’t thinking.”

“Y’right about that, y’weren’t thinkin’. It is a big deal, y’could have gotten hurt - shouldn’t have t’babysit m’own wife,” Harry huffs, stomping back over to the bed and sliding back under the covers.

“You better watch your tone-“

They’re interrupted with a knock to their door, Harry throws the covers over his head and leaves YN to open the door.

It’s Jeff, who barges in with a coffee in one hand, “Come on, H. Did you forget? You have soundcheck early today and then you have to meet with FullStop to review the details of that new merchandise contract.”

“No, move it,” The popstar groans, muffled from the heavy blankets over him, and his manager and wife give each other a knowing look.

“We can’t. Get up, we need to leave in fifteen,” Jeff replies casually, unbothered as he sips from his to-go mug.

It has Harry dramatically ripping off the covers and getting out of bed, as he charges off towards the bathroom, he shouts backwards, “Wish someone would have fuckin’ told me! Like m’manager or m’wife!”

“Oh my god, here we go,” YN groans quietly to Jeff, snatching up the few things she needs for the venue as well as Harry’s and shoving them in his duffle.

He comes out a few moments later, dressed in running shorts and a vintage Queen shirt - going to tug on his Nikes without a word to either.

But in true Harry fashion, even when he’s mad, he’s still a gentleman. He slips the duffle off his wife’s shoulder so she doesn’t have to carry it.

“Thank you,” She murmurs but he avoids eye contact, being the first to open the hotel room and trudge towards the awaiting car.

It’s a quiet ride, Harry looks out the window with a deep frown and puffy eyes - eyes heavy from the lack of sleep.

Usually, he’d be curled into YN - snuggling as close as possible and asking for her to pet his hair to soothe him.

Not today. But he does have his hand on her thigh.

There’s already fans at the arena and Harry doesn’t acknowledge them - keeps his head down and walks quickly into the private entrance past the barricades.

When a irritated fan screams, “Asshole! We waited all night here for you!”

YN watches as Harry goes to turn, to say something but she pushes him forward through the door to prevent him from doing something he’d regret when wasn’t in a foul mood.

They manage through the long hallways, filled with bustling tour crew, and everybody there to make the show happen.

Sound check isn’t as fun as it usually is, the band stays low-key when Harry does exactly what he needs to do and nothing more.

And after the merch meeting, Harry has reached his limit apparently.

He was so tired, so fucking moody that he couldn’t deal with anymore human interaction.

YN has to step in when she gets a text from Harry Lambert.

Come get your husband. Sarah’s Kitchen.

She sighs, excusing herself from hanging out with Jeff and Glenne - she can hear him from the hallway and now she’s finally get irritated.

“I asked for that specific brand. It’s literally one of the only things I’ve asked for on this tour.”

YN takes a deep breathe before stepping in, there are crew trying not to stare as Harry complains to Sarah about something unimportant.

“Harry,” She says flatly, “Come on.”

He snatches his water bottle and follows his wife out without another word, trailing behind until they end up in his dressing room.

“You need to stop. You’re being a literal nightmare today,” YN tells him, watching him as he digs in the duffle.

“Where is m’charger? Did y’not pack it?” He ignores her words.

“I must have forgot. Harry, I know you’re tired but you can’t be treating everyone like-“

Harry pushes back the bag, seething for no reason, “I’ll treat people however the fuck I want!”

“You’re acting like a spoiled popstar right now,” YN replies, attempting to stay level-headed and calm with him.

“S’my show! M’tour!”

“Yes and everyone is here to support you and you’re treating them like shit. Including me, I’m your wife - the one person in the world that’s here for you no matter what and you’re being downright mean.”

“Y’so fuckin’ sensitive,” Harry mutters angrily, digging around to try to find a charger in a different bag.

And…that stung a bit.

When he doesn’t get a response, he looks up and notices how her demeanor had changed - it brings him back to reality for a little bit.

“I’m not going to stay here and be talked to like that because you don’t feel good. I’ll leave you alone because you are being insufferable.”

“Bab-“

YN is already out the door, storming back to Sarah’s kitchen to apologize for her husband’s diva behavior and everyone shrugs her off - knowing it’s not her fault.

She is sat down with the band and a few others when her husband saunters in, he doesn’t look at anyone else as he walks up to his wife.

“Baby, can I talk to you?” He mumbles, his warm hand coming to cup her shoulder.

“Harry,” YN says back, they’ve been together for so long that those words are all she needs to say for him to formulate a response.

“Come nap w’me please, need you. I’ll apologize t’you,” Harry says, his palm encompassing and big on her.

“Harry,” She repeats.

The crew looks on in amusement as Harry huffs, he lifts his head and speaks loudly to the room at once, “I apologize for my behavior. I have no excuse for getting upset like I have been today. I hope you guys can forgive me.”

Everyone assures him that they forgive him, most of them have dealt with actual spoiled celebrities and Harry was just having a bad day (which still really wasn’t that bad.)

“Okay, come on, bunny,” YN agrees, satisfied and can’t help but smile a bit when she stands up and Harry automatically intertwines their fingers to hold her hand.

The sofa in his dressing room folds out to be a bed and they still had hours before the show.

Once they’ve locked the doo and settled down on the mattress - they’re both laying on their sides, facing each other.

“M’sorry, darlin’,” Harry whispers, “I haven’t been very nice t’you today. I was just upset about the gym thing and just being so tired.”

YN hums, combing throwing his fluffy curls with her fingers as his hands explore over her hips and belly like always.

“You always get like this every once in a while on tour, like a little spoiled popstar,” YN says softly, no sharpness in her tone, “You also need to be nice to your wife.”

“M’always nice t’my wife,” He mumbles childishly, leaning forward to nip at her chin, “I am sorry, know tha’ when I act like that it embarrasses you.”

“You’re better than acting like that,” YN reminds him, allowing him to tug her into his warm, now bare chest, “I’m never gonna let you turn into some fame monster. You’re gonna stay the kind, funny, compassionate person I met when I was young.”

And when YN doesn’t get a reply, she glances to see Harry’s eyes shut, mouth slightly parted as he breathes rhythmically and his entire face relaxes as he sleeps.

“Still my boy,” YN murmurs lovingly, nuzzling before letting sleep overtake her.

-

#hslot!harry #hslotrry #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #Harry styles angst #husband!harry #harry styles huband #erodsafishtacos masterlist #file #Harry styles au #update #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing request #harry styles angst

[raggaraddy]

your writing is amazing 🥺

could i ask for a yoongi version of the reader being shot because of them? your other ones are so good!!!

Family affairs

@dramaclub-thin

A/N: Thank you, sweetheart! I'm glad you're enjoying the series. This one has a bit of OT7 and I hope you like it too. 💜💜💜

If anyone else wants to request, you can here.

Other parts:

Namjoon

Jimin

Taehyung

Jungkook

Summary: You'd tried so hard to hide your relationship with Yoongi from your father. You knew when he found you were dating someone from a rival club that he'd kill you. You just didn't think it would be literal.

Trigger warnings: Violence, Filicide, Blood, gun usage.

Yoongi

Mafia! Yoongi

Mafia! BTS

"Yes Daddy," you poke your head through the door to his office with a little knock. Normally you would never bother your father while he was working, but one of your brothers came to your room to let you know he was calling for you.

"Ah, Darling. Yes, have a seat." He stands up from his desk, gesturing to the chair ahead of him. "I need your advice on something."

For a moment you get a flutter in your stomach. He never asks you for anything. Your his pretty princess on a pedestal. And he never involves you in anything that a woman wouldn't have been responsible for in the 1950s.

"Of course," you smile, shifting comfortably.

"I know you're tech-savvy, so maybe you can explain this to me. I had some photos printed, but I think there must be something wrong with the camera. Have a look,"

Reaching into his desk drawer as he speaks he pulls out a stack of A4 photos. As he lays them out your eyes jump straight back up at him. Checking for his reaction, a sharp pang of absolute fear hitting you. They're pictures of you and Yoongi, his arm around you when you were coming out of the Bangtan clubhouse.

"I know the camera has to be faulty, because that" he tapes your image, "looks like you. And I know my one and only daughter wouldn't be socializing with those Bulletproof scum."

"Daddy, I-I," you stutter with no idea what to say.

You thought you were so clever, so careful that there was no way he'd ever find out. Even when Yoongi would worry about you possibly being caught you would shrug it off. Your love was invincible and meant to be, and you were smart. No chance your family would ever know you're with Yoongi, and no way his family would ever know you were from a rival gang. As far as they knew, you were just Y/n Brown, the hairdresser from one district over.

But clearly, you weren't careful or clever enough.

Your stark silence is loud enough for your father and he nods a sombre confirmation. "How long Y/n?" He questions.

"Daddy, I don't-"

"How long?!" He's quick to anger, making you jump.

"A few months," you lie, your eyes dropping to your lap. Telling him it's been closer to 18 months is only going to enrage him further.

Slumping back into his office chair he lets out a heavy sigh.

"You think you raise your kids right. To know loyalty and family." He derides looking at you fiercely. "But then you find out your own daughter will open her legs for any cretin. In complete disregard of everything she should know."

You knew it would be awful if he ever found out, you know he is a terrifying dangerous man, but hearing your father's derogatory comments are harder to take than you ever expected.

"What did you tell them?" He sits forward. His demeanour, his expression going from disappointed father to cold mafioso.

Your mouth going dry, you swallow hard. Shaking your head softly. "Nothing."

"Bullshit!" He yells. "You expect me to believe they just let the daughter of Bastille get all cosy with one of the 7 without you giving up something."

This is so bad. You knew your parents, your brothers, the entire Bastille would disown you for this, but they'll actually kill you if they think you've sold them out.

"No. I didn't tell them anything. None of them knows who I am. Only Yoongi knows. And I didn't tell him shit. You know I wouldn't." You defend yourself trying to reign in your distress.

"Well, there's a lot of things I wouldn't think a daughter of mine could do." His voice is so detached. He's stopped looking at you. This is so so bad.

"Dad. I didn't say anything." You restate, fighting to convince him. Feeling like you're trying to prove the case for your own life. "I know the rules. Don't talk to anyone. Not cops. Not friends or enemies." You repeat the words that had been drilled in your entire childhood. You knew nothing, you saw nothing. Those are the rules.

"I don't believe you." He says bitterly.

Your hands are trembling, you're panting heavily. You know being with a rival club member is a stupid thing, but the clubs are in a truce.  And despite your father's opinion, you would never be so stupid as to actually say anything. And Yoongi would never let you, even if you decided to. You did one thing wrong, but you made sure you did everything else right.

Leaning back, he opens his phone book. Searching for a number.

"Dad," You plead for his attention. Raising the phone to his ear he shushes you, placing a finger over his mouth.

You have no idea what to do. You've seen him decimate people for so much less than what he's accusing you of. You don't know how to prove your innocence.

The call answers and you can hear a distant 'hello'.  Putting the phone on speaker he puts the receiver down.

"Warren L/n here. I believe I have something of yours," he says.

"What are you talking about?" You inhale a staggered breath, hearing the familiar gruff voice of Kim Namjoon.

Your dad's plan was simple. If you were telling the truth about Bangtan not knowing who you were, their leader would be confused and concerned that you were with the leader of Bastille. But if they knew who you were, this would be a much more straightforward issue. Namjoon would understand right away why he was calling.

And if you were lying about one thing, he could assume you were lying about more.

"Say hello Y/n." Your dad prompts, his look daring you to refuse.

"Hi," You squeak, nervously chewing the inside of your cheek. Your own safety aside, Namjoon was going to kill Yoongi.

There's a brief pause. The background noise on Namjoon's side disappearing. "Kidnapping women? I didn't realise you were handling that personally now."

"Who said kidnap?" he leads the conversation.

"Then maybe you want to explain what one of our girls is doing with you?" Namjoon growls, sounding protective.

That was enough confirmation for your father. The leader didn't know what was going on. But he was about to.

On Namjoons side of the line, he was pacing back and forth in a closed meeting room at the entrance of the clubhouse. Your father was revealing the secret that you and Yoongi had fought so hard to keep.

The phone call ending, Namjoon was in a rage. Marching across the bar he stormed at the table with other members around it. His maddened expression drawing Yoongi's attention. But the older member didn't have any reason to think this fury was directed at him and so he doesn't react quick enough as Namjoon punches him in the face, knocking him from his chair.

The other boys instantly becoming alert, Jungkook jumps to Namjoons side holding his arm out in front of him, looking ready to intervene. Jimin standing between the floored Yoongi and the enraged leader.

"Hyung, what the hell ar-" Jimin snaps.

"You fucking idiot! Bastille's daughter?!" he roars trying to push through Jimin. Jungkook stepping in to help keep him at bay.

Climbing back to his feet, nursing a split lip, Yoongi's eyes go wide. Completely caught off guard by Namjoon's revelation. "How did you-" he gapes.

"Everything she's seen, everything she knows! Do you have any idea how much you've exposed this club?" He lunges again, bowling the mediating members out of the way. Diving through Yoongi, the two men trade blows as they scuffle on the floor.

The scene quickly gets out of hand, and as Yoongi throws Namjoon through a table, Jin and Hoseok come from a backroom to step in also. The four of them now working to pry the two battling men apart. Jimin and Hoseok holding back Yoongi. The oldest and youngest members trying to keep Namjoon at bay.

"Enough!" Jin scolds with a firm shove to Namjoon's chest. "Someone explain what the hell is going on!"

"Just Suga thinking with his dick, instead of his brain." Namjoon spits.

Shirking off the boys, Yoongi barges forward infuriated by the provocative comment. War breaking out again with a solid hit at Namjoon, a gash opening over his eye. Another difficult struggle beginning for the members, grappling and clawing them apart. Having to fully restrain them to have them stop. Being held as they bleed.

Grabbing both of them by the collar, Jin demands their focus. "The next man who throws a punch leaves here with a bullet in his leg!" He growls. "Am I clear?!" His fist tightens, stiffening their necklines.

"Yes,"

"Yes, Hyung."

The two of them conceded, their energy dropping as their eldest releases them. "Good. Now sit down so we can talk this shit out."

It takes several minutes and a round of drinks, but the room calms down enough for the members to sit down. They send the few 2nd levels out and the 95's girlfriends. The bar remaining with only the 7 original members. Taehyung coming back just as the disclosure began.

Namjoon starts, passing along the information your father had given him. The 6 of them all sharing disappointed, worried or angry glances towards Yoongi.

"She wouldn't have said anything." Yoongi insists, after explaining his side also. Trying to defend his decision. To defend you.

"You can't know that," Jimin argues, flumping back in his seat. Taking a sip with a pissed-off scowl on his face.

"Yeah, we've all been pussy blinded before. You're not thinking clearly." Jungkook snips.

"Maknae-" Yoongi warns. Getting tired of the disrespect that keeps getting thrown his way.

"Hey, watch it." Jin interrupts, correcting Jungkook's blunt attitude. The youngest shrugging, downing the last of his drink.

"Look, if she was giving information to L/n, then why would he call to tell you that he knows." Yoongi disputes. Hoping to bring reason back into the debate.

"He wants to trade. The latest shipment of horse for Y/n." Namjoon answers with a frustrated scoff and a roll of his eyes.

"That's close to 500 K. That's not happening," Hoseok jumps in. The rest of them firmly nodding in agreement.

"Okay, but if that's the case. If he's trying to sell her off, that means she's not working with him. Right?" Taehyung backs Yoongi's point.

"Idiot," Jimin shoves his friend, "It could be a part of the plan. A way to rip us off for half a million."

"Or it could be a set-up," Namjoon adds. "Let's say Hyung's right, and she isn't working with her old man. If we're willing to sit down, if we try to buy her back, it confirms that she knows enough that we're concerned about it."

"I'm telling you, she doesn't know anything. She didn't want to know anything. And even if she did, she's not gonna give it up." Again Yoongi vehemently defends you.

"Well if she doesn't give him anything then L/n kills her." Namjoon finalizes. "To hurt the club, and as retribution for her betrayal."

"What I don't understand is why you would let her go back? If you trust her and you know how ruthless Bastille is, why would you let her keep going back to him?" Jin asks, genuinely baffled.

Standing up Yoongi can't take anymore. He's furious. He's upset. At himself most of all. Feeling to blame for allowing you to be in this situation, he leaves in anger. Needing some time to himself to think.

"I don't know, she seemed pretty cool," Taehyung mutters, leaning into Namjoon. "You don't really think he would kill his own daughter, right?"

It's been 2 days and you've been locked in an empty storage shed at the edge of the property like a captive. Your father turned your world upside down looking for information. His people went through your computer, your phone, your car, your room. Everything that was yours he and his men had raided. And just like you said, there was nothing there. No information about Bastille, and nothing about Bangtan.

"Suga. I'm guessing that's Min Yoongi? Unless you're cheating on him." Your dad muses holding up your phone. That is so humiliating. So many nudes and dirty texts are in that chat. There may not be revealing information, but there was still plenty of personal stuff.

"You know Darling, I don't like to admit when I am wrong, but it looks like you were telling the truth. I can't find any proof that you gave up any family details." He smiles softly, your heart lifting with relief for a moment. "But then I was looking through your camera roll and, in the pictures where you actually have clothes on, it's just full of Bangtan." He comes further into the empty shed, leaning on the wall alongside you. Showing you the screen as he scrolls through. The only entrance being blocked by one of his more grizzly looking men. "See here, there's you and a bunch of them at a restaurant. There's you and the leader. You and the crazy one. Here's a family-style photo, isn't that nice."

He keeps scrolling through shot after shot, exhibiting an entire album full of Bangtan family pictures.

"I'm sure you never expected anyone else to see these. I guess I should have been teaching you not to put the same password for multiple devices." He scoffs. "But the interesting thing, when I'm going through these photos you seem to be really close with all of them. Some of these even go back to last year. Which makes the timeline you gave me a little off."

He shows the details of one of the pictures to you, the time stamp from when you had already been with Yoongi for 6 months.

"This one is from May 2nd. Last year. On the 10th those bastards stole one of my shipping containers. With nearly 100 grand worth of merchandise. Did you know about that?"

"You mean people." You sneer, his characterization of human trafficking as 'merchandise' making your skin crawl.

"So you did know." He smiles coldly.

"I found out- I knew after," you justify. Even as you continue to defend yourself, you have a sick feeling that it's all for nothing.

"I'm really curious what else you know." He hums, walking around the front of you to get back into your eye line.

"I don't know anything," you tell him for the 1000th time with an exasperated shake of your head. Moving away to the far side of the shed.

"Darling, I'm your father and I'm telling you we need to reconcile this. Your mother is worried sick. I'm here losing sleep over this. I'm giving you a chance to repay all the damage you've done. A chance to forget all this. You tell me everything you know about Bangtan, and just like that," he snaps his fingers, "you get to return to your comfortable life."

You don't trust his change in tone or his promises for a minute. You may not have known the darkest parts of who he is, but that's how you can be sure that his offer to forgive and forget is rubbish. Not even the father in him would let you forget a mistake. Especially one this major, not with the way he is reacting. And he's so much more brutal when it comes to Bastille.

"And if I don't?"

"Then you've betrayed your family. And we'll find out what we want to know in other ways." he taps the back of his hand in the other, symbolizing a beat down.

You shake your head hard. You might love your dad. But you don't like him. You've known for most of your life that he was a bad guy. And Yoongi, Bangtan, they might not be the good guys, but they've been the family you've always wanted. There is no way you were telling him even the most insignificant detail.

"Hit me all you want dad, I still don't know anything." You snarl.

"I could never hit my own daughter." He taps his heart, a feigned pained expression on his face. Nodding his head in your direction, he trades places with his man who advances on you.

Breathing hard you step back only to hit the wall.

The tall, square-built man swings. The back of his hand slapping your cheek, the force so strong that it smacks you into the corner sidewall. His hand, like a vice, grabs ahold of your head and mightily slams it into the steel beam running down the sheet metal wall. Pushing your hands against his chest, you weakly attempt to fend him off, but he ends your efforts with another solid wack against the frame.

As blood streams down your head, his focus switches. The majority of his attacks landing on your torso.

With you curled up on the floor, wheezing and gasping for breath, the assault finally stops. But not out of mercy. Even through the ringing in your ears, you can hear the outburst of gunfire in the distance.

Both your dad and his man rush out, leaving you locked away. While it's for an equally terrifying reason, you're thankful to have this time to catch your breath. Although every laborious intake brings agony.

After some time, light floods back into the room, your father standing in the doorway outlined by the setting sun. "I'm sorry Darling. If I had to do this, I hoped it would be a bit more ceremonious. But we don't have the time for that now."

You gasp at him raising his gun at you. He shoots three times. One in your chest, one in your shoulder and one in your stomach.

The shock, the impact takes the breath from you. And you can't draw it back in. Your eyes glassing over, your head filled with nothing but white noise. Feeling a fleeting moment of relief as everything goes quiet and dark.

"Fuck. No!" Yoongi howls. He, Jin and two 2nd ranks had chased after your father as he fled.

Bangtan's siege on his property was highly successful till that point, and he had run downhill to the storage garage. Looking to make a getaway.

The other's continue after him as Yoongi stumbles into you. His steely outer shell crumbling away the moment he sees your body limp and bleeding out.

Falling beside you he leans over shaking and in tears. Kissing your lips gently with heartfelt pleas "I'm sorry Y/n. I'm so sorry. Please don't do this. Please."

Jin doubles back, watching distraught from the entrance as his brother falls apart.

Lifting your head up, Yoongi brings your forehead to his. The movement making you splutter blood. The first sign of life that either of the men had seen.

"Holy fuck, she's alive." Jin gawks, jumping in beside Yoongi pressing on the hole in your stomach. The bullet in your shoulder and chest had both hit bone, stopping the slug from going through, blocking the wounds from severe blood loss. The bullet in your torso shot through your bowls and thankfully not through your vital organs. Meaning your chances of survival were much higher. It was either 3 highly unlucky shots or three precisely placed ones.

"I'm so sorry Y/n." Yoongi's in shock. Devastated and guilt-ridden, and unable to make himself function.

"Dude, get your shit together or she's not gonna make it." Jin smacks the side of his brothers head, snapping him out of his grief-stricken daze.

"Can you save her?" He asks rubbing the tears from his eyes.

"Not a chance. But I can keep her alive for a minute until we get to the clubhouse. Call the doc, tell him to meet us there." Jin orders, having much more clarity at this moment. "And get the boys to bring the car around. We're going to need a few of us to move her."

Yoongi follows Jin's lead, wiping the blood from his hands onto his pants to dial.

"Think of it this way," Jin smiles shortly, trying to soothe Yoongi's fear and panic with an ill-timed joke. "If she survives, at least she'll have proved she's Bangtan."

#bts fan fiction #bts reactions #bts fanfic #yandere bts #yandere bangtan #bts #bangtan #bangtan fanfic #yandere #bts yoongi #min yoongi #mafia!bts #Mafia!yoongi #bts yandere

[ptergwen]

through the lens

w/c: 2.3k

warnings: swearing and mentions of blood (all fluff tho!)

summary: yours and peter’s date night doesn’t go as planned, thanks to his “little” accident and mj’s photography project

a/n: it’s been a minute but i’m back! for now lol i promise i’ll be way more active when exam season is over <3 this was based off the lovely pic above taken by the even lovelier zendaya and i hope you enjoy these… let’s call it random workings of my mind

-

“hang on, can you come closer?” mj instructs you, you promptly stepping towards her. “is this good?” “great,” she affirms and squints behind the camera. “smile really big on the count of three, okay? one, two, three!” doing as she says, you give mj your cheesiest grin with your eyes squeezed shut and all. she snickers while snapping the moment on her polaroid.

mj asked you to be her subject for a photography project. you’re happy to do it, although it’s super last minute. like, barging-into-your-room-and-begging-you-for-help last minute. she was supposed to turn this in days ago. lucky for mj, her teacher was feeling generous and gave her an extension.

you have to work fast because of mj’s deadline and your plans with peter. he’s coming over for a movie marathon and cuddles right about now. well, he’s actually running a tad bit late. that’s typical peter for you.

“just a couple more, and then you’re free,” mj informs you while shaking out the polaroid. “this is honestly pretty fun, you know.” you glance at the photo she’s holding with an eyebrow quirked in surprise. she captures you well. “what made you choose me?” “no one else was free on a saturday,” she snorts and tosses the picture in a pile with the rest.

your mouth falls agape. “i’m not free! peter’s gonna be here in…” you check the time on your phone, much to your dismay. “he’s a few minutes late, but still. i have things to do, too.” a smirk sets on mj’s face as she gets ready for the next photograph. “relax, y/n/n. i was kidding. i’m sure spider-dweeb will be here sooner than you know it.” sighing lightheartedly, you take a seat on your bed.

“don’t call him that,” you shake your head. mj throws her own head back to the ceiling. “ugh, but that was a good one,” she insists, you only humming. “it’s better than penis parker, at least.” “nah, i like the alliteration,” you laugh out and earn a giggle from mj. “you’re lucky parker doesn’t have super hearing, or does he?” winking, you hit a pose for mj. you’re looking at her over your shoulder with smolder eyes.

“ask him yourself, after you get this shot.”

the two of you continue messing around with her polaroid until the film is almost gone, and peter has yet to arrive. you’re starting to worry. you aren’t sure where he could be.

he doesn’t patrol on weekends unless it’s an emergency, and he would’ve told you if there was one already. he’s never this late without sending a text, either. it’s almost an hour past when date night should’ve started. on the other occasions peter has gone off the grid, they didn’t end well.

“i’m freaking out, em. do you think he’s in some kind of trouble?” you ask mj, pacing around your bedroom. she offers a sympathetic shrug. “maybe he just ate some bad yogurt. remember last time?” being the dummy he is, peter once scarfed down an entire tub of vanilla yogurt before he realized it was expired. no one heard from him for days. he didn’t show up to school or answer any calls.

may ended up inviting you over and explaining he’d gotten a stomach bug, which you then tended to him for the rest of. the story was so amusing, and so peter.

“may doesn’t buy him dairy anymore. why do you think he always raids your freezer?” you bring your fingers up to rub your temples. “the kid can empty ice cream cartons in one bite,” she agrees, silently cringing. her curiosity piques at the fact. “is that also a power?” “who cares?” you nearly shout, your fingers curling into fists. “what i wanna know is if peter is fucking okay.”

on cue, there’s a knock at your apartment door. you and mj exchange looks of urgency, both rushing out of your room to answer.

mj follows you through the hall and stands by your side while you fumble with the lock. when your door pulls open, ned has his hand raised to knock again. “ned? what are you doing here?” you don’t give him the chance to speak. “have you heard from peter? he was supposed to be here a while ago, but he never showed.” rather than answering in words, ned takes a step aside.

the sight you’re met with makes you gasp. peter peeks out from behind him, cuts and bruises littering his flushed face. he gives you a lopsided smile.

“you have your answer,” mj murmurs to you and eyes ned curiously. he lets out a nervous chuckle. “here he is.” you push past ned and practically jump into peter’s arms, your hug bone-crushing. “peter, oh my god! are you okay?” wincing, peter hugs you back by your waist. his chin rests carefully on your head.

“hey… i’m alright, baby. still pretty sore, though,” he sucks his lower lip between his teeth. you take the hint to loosen your grip on him. “i was worried something bad might’ve happened to you. i… i guess i was right.” your tone softens, you threading a hand in his curls. they’re completely disheveled from whatever went down with him.

ned heads inside to catch up with mj, the two of them letting you have a moment alone.

“someone’s got a spidey sense of their own, huh?” peter tries to lighten the mood by joking. it doesn’t work, a frown still evident on your face as you try to untangle his once soft locks. “baby, everything’s fine. i just… had a little accident is all. no big deal,” he reassures you and moves in to peck your lips. you’re so shocked that you dodge the kiss.

“little? your whole face is black and blue, pete!” you tug on the white collar of his button up, peter letting out a shaky breath. your other hand comes to rest on his cheek, touch gentle. “how’d you get like this?” he licks across his lips shyly and sets his hands on your hips. “see, on the way over there were these bad guys who-“

“no there weren’t,” ned cuts in, scoffing at the beginning of his friend’s story. peter shoots him a warning look over your head. “yes there were, ned. you weren’t even there!” he catches mj glaring at him before he continues. “don’t listen to him. anyway, i had to fight them because…” when he trails off, you stroke your thumb across his cheek, avoiding any wounds in the way. raising both eyebrows, mj speaks up.

“because why? go on, parker. i’m intrigued,” she encourages him. everyone can tell peter is lying except you. the question really is, what’s he lying about? he gulps down his spit, pulling your body against his for comfort. “take your time, peter. we can wait,” you say only for him to hear. his love filled eyes meet yours, and he nods. ned huffs at the dramatics unfolding before him.

“dude, you’re making this way worse than it actually is. just tell her!” he demands, mj cocking her head to the side. peter’s gaze flits between the two of them. “tell me what?” you wonder softly and tilt his chin, willing him to look at you again. “i… i…” peter’s shoulders slump, his voice lowering in defeat. “there weren’t any bad guys.”

“of course there weren’t,” ned confirms. “no shit,” mj adds. exhaling, you wait for your boyfriend to further elaborate. “what really happened, then? be honest, pete.” peter lets go of you so he can come into your apartment properly, you shutting the door behind him. he scratches the back of his neck as he fills you in. “ok. um, me and ned were hanging out.”

ned is attempting to stifle a laugh for some reason, which mj elbows him for. you take one of peter’s hands. “yeah?” “we were at my place, and… you know those really slippery steps on the sixth floor?” peter pauses for someone to answer, playing with your fingers. “the ones flash almost wiped out on once?” mj questions in amusement. he lets a quiet chuckle out. “good times. yeah, those.”

his gaze averts to the ground, you listening on. “so, i was walking ned out on my way over. we were talking about spidey stuff-“ “as per usual,” mj mumbles to herself. ned raises his hands in defense. “—and i told ned i could always stick my landings. he didn’t believe me.” you playfully roll your eyes, seeing where this is going. “so… i, uh, decided to show him,” peter finishes off.

“i did a, um, backflip. tripped and fell down the flight of stairs,” he finally admits to you, putting his other hand on top of your intertwined ones. “clearly, i was wrong.” his bloody face is now red from humiliation. “you didn’t trip, dude. you freaking summersaulted!” ned corrects him and bursts into laughter he’s been holding back. “idiots, both of you,” mj simply remarks.

“that’s it? why didn’t you just say that?” you almost laugh yourself. groaning, peter rests his forehead against yours. “because it’s embarrassing! i wanted you to think i’m a tough guy or whatever.” placing both hands on his cheeks this time, you nuzzle your nose against his. “you don’t have to be a tough guy to impress me, babes. you’re kind, smart, funny. makes up for you being such a klutz.”

peter cracks a grin, easily capturing your lips in the kiss he didn’t get to before. it doesn’t last long because mj gags and ned whistles at you. you’re both giggling when you pull apart, peter kissing the tip of your nose for good measure.

“you really mean that?” he checks, tucking back a strand of hair from your face. “of course. i have a thing for himbos,” you tease and poke at his bare chest. his eyes widen. “how about i get you some ice and you find our first movie?” you’re already off to the kitchen, beaming at peter. “date night’s still on?” he happily plops down on your couch, mj showing ned her pictures from earlier.

“as soon as those two get out of here,” you call loudly enough so ned and mj hear you. “yeah, yeah. we’re leaving,” mj deadpans, shoving the photos back into her portfolio. peter glances over at it curiously. “what’s that for?” “photography project,” she says and gets an idea. “i have some film left. y/n took up most of it… you losers want the rest?”

while mj coerces her way to a higher grade, you put some popcorn in the microwave for your movie marathon.

“well, i could use a new lockscreen. i’m in!” ned quickly concedes. him and mj both give peter hopeful looks. “i’m not!” he protests, squishing one of your pillows against his chest. “with my face looking like… this? forget about it.” mj walks over to him and places her portfolio on the coffee table. “what? those gashes are gnarly… in a good way, i mean,” she promises.

“painful, too,” peter murmurs. “y/n, hurry up with that ice!” mj demands, grabbing the polaroid camera from its string around her neck. you wave her off. “what i’m saying is, they’ll look sick in my portfolio.” mj forces a smile, ned looking at her weirdly. “uh, what’s the theme of your project again?” “freestyle, baby,” mj casually replies.

peter comes up with a condition that could persuade him. “if you say please, i might consider it,” he concludes, mj perking up. “please be in my project. pretty please?” she instantly requests, ned pursing his lips from behind her. peter rubs his chin. “y/n, what do you think? should i?” you pipe in from the kitchen. “yeah, so she’ll leave my house.”

“you heard the lady. i’ll do it,” peter gives in. all but squealing, mj gestures for ned to sit. “this’ll only take a few minutes. you guys are really saving my ass.” ned gets comfortable next to peter on the couch, who wants to see how far mj will really go. “aw, we are? i believe that calls for a…” ned catches on. “it comes after please…” mj picks up her camera with gritted teeth. “thank you, morons. say cheese!”

that’s the only warning peter and ned get before they’re blinded with the flash. ned does a toothy grin as he leans into peter’s side. peter musters up the best smile he can, hair a mess and cuts burning pink on his face. satisfied, mj snatches the photograph as it pops out.

“pleasure doing business with you two,” she states, you joining the three of them in the living room. you set the popcorn on the table and give peter his ice pack. he presses it to his cheek, kissing the back of your hand. “send me that!” ned reminds mj, helping himself to your bowl of popcorn. she salutes him.

“there’s my star. what do you say, y/n? wanna take one more really quick?” mj suggests, already holding up her polaroid. you take the other cushion next to peter, your head on his shoulder. “can peter be in it with me? since he’s in the modeling mood tonight.” he wraps an arm tightly around you. “let’s do it, sweetness.”

eagerly jumping in front of you two, mj crouches down to get a better angle. “on the count of three. one, two, three!” the camera clicks, and you surprise peter by laying a smooch on one of his cheeks. he’s holding the ice against his other, genuinely smiling for this picture. ned coos at you, mj showing off her work when it dries.

“how adorable,” she says sarcastically but means it. peter nods at her in appreciation, his lips brushing the side of your head. “what can i say, you’re a pro,” you compliment mj. “come on, em!” ned cheers through a mouthful of popcorn.

tonight was an unexpected and exciting mess, even if your date night did get crashed.

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker smut #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction

[hangezoeenthusiast]

Dad (part 2 of Papa)

Part 1 Part 3

fem!daughter!reader

word count: 1,285

person: c!schlatt, c!quackity, c!karl, c!sapnap

warnings: physical abuse, cursing, bruises, blood, yelling, alcohol, fighting, eating

synopsis: you were loved, you were cherished, then someone left, and other people replaced that person, and you didn't like that.

(this one is more intense)

You were in your office doing some random work for Tubbo when you heard a knock on your door. “Come in!” you shouted at the door. It creaked upon, and there your papa was, with bruises all around his body.

“Holy shit, what happened?” you stood up from your chair and made your way towards Quackity. He put his hands in front of you, blocking your way towards him, “I’m fine, mi alma, I just got into a fight with someone.” “Well who is that someone, I’m about to beat them up.”

“Calm down Y/n, it’s not that serious.” “WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT’S ‘not serious’, YOU HAVE BRUISES ALL OVER YOU, BLOOD STAINED CLOTHES, AND THE WORST OF ALL YOUR WINGS, WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR WINGS.” you screamed at him. You were desperate for him to tell the truth.

“I just flew into then tree, that’s why my wings look horrible.” “Papa, please don’t lie to me.” you begged him. “I’m not lying lovely.” “Papa, I know you like the back of my hand, please, just tell me.”

He walked towards you, and put his hands on your shoulders, “Y/n, I can’t tell you, I know you will do something bad.”

“Fine, but this better not happen again.”

You stopped the conversation, not knowing who did that to your papa, not knowing that someone you loved did horrendous act of violence.

-

You were walking on the path when you saw something from your peripheral. It was Schlatt and Quackity, arguing about something. “We have to take down the wall.” “No we’re not, there could be invaders right there, waiting for us to lower down our defenses.”

"WHY WON'T YOU LISTEN TO ME."

"NO, YOU LISTEN TO ME."

Your parents were having a deathmatch, one of them trying to topple the other, but failing. "WHY DO YOU ALWAYS CONDESCEND ME, I'M TRYING TO MAKE THIS NATION BETTER." Schlatt yelled furiously. "YOU ARE NOT MAKING THIS STUPID NATION BETTER, YOU'RE MAKING IT WORSE, I SHOULD'VE NEVER COMBINE MY VOTES WITH YOURS, YOU'RE OBVIOUSLY CAN'T BE A PRESIDENT." Quackity roared.

"TAKE THAT BACK."

"NO YOU TAKE THAT BACK."

You frantically walked over to your dads and interrupted their screaming, "STOP BOTH OF YOU, SHUT UP." The whole conversation became silent, crickets chirping to make up for the argument. "Let's just settle this like normal people, papa, what's your side of the story?" you asked, trying to make them calm down. "WELL THIS SON OF A-" "Papa, quiet down, say it calmly." "Fine", he rolled his eyes, "This son of a bitch wants to take down the wall, full well knowing that Wilbur, Tommy, and their allies could be right on the other side, waiting to overthrow us."

You shook your head with disbelief, "Papa, don't you know that they are can't be in the Dream Smp, they can't be here or outside, Dream banned them." Quackity gaped, he forgot completely about that, "Ohhh, sorry," he said shyly, scratching the back of his neck. "Ok dad, what's your point of view?" you questioned Schlatt. "Well just what you said, Wilbur and Tommy can't be here, so I suggested that we should take down the wall." Quackity was just about to fire up again, "BUT WHAT ABOUT THE OTHERS." "THERE ARE NO OTHERS, YOU'RE JUST PARANOID." "I'M NOT PARANOID, YOU'RE PARANOID."

Their little squabble annoyed the living hell out of you, "Can we just talk normally without any screaming or yelling please?", you pleaded. You just wanted to go about your day, no stress, no arguments, none of that.

"Ok y/n." they synchronized. "Ok, since you guys are being little piss babies, let's do some home therapy yeah, both of you, one at a time, no interrupting the other, tell the other person what they hate about each other, then one thing they like. Dad, you can go first since papa went first last time."

"Well-"

-

That little therapy session didn't work, they just kept interrupting each other everytime the other would say something hateful about them, talk about "good therapy". They split their ways, going off to do something to destress themselves.

You were in your room, watching TV when you heard the front door slam open with ferocity. It was Mr. Jschlatt, too drunk, wobbling around, banging into things, breaking glass jars and plates by accident.

You barged downstairs to find your dad drunk off his face, "Dad, are you ok," you cautiously crept towards him, not trying to get him scared. "Y/n, hey boo, how you doing, how's the wife?" he slurred. "Dad, what do you mean, I don't have a wife, nevertheless a girlfriend." He mumbled, aggresively taking off his suit jacket, tie, and unbuttoning his shirt a few buttons. "Give me some more beer." he demanded of you.

"What do you mean dad, you're already drunk, you don't need more."

He got angered, getting pissed off at you for not getting him beer. So then he got into your face, alcohol lacing his breath, and yelled in your face, "GET ME BEER," then he digged his nails into your shoulder, pushing you down, making you land on the couch. The force was enough to begin a bruise on your body.

"Dad stop, let's go to bed." "I DON'T WANT TO GO TO BED, I WANT MORE BEER."

"DAD STOP." you expected him to just calm down, just go to sleep and apologize to you the next day for shouting at you, that was far from the truth. He picked up and threw a empty glass cup at you, missing, but the glass hitting the wall behind you, shocking you. "WHAT THE FUCK." you screeched, not expecting something to be thrown at you. "Guess I have to get it myself, next time do what I tell you, or there will be consequence, got it." "I got it." you squeaked out.

-

It was the next day, getting up from bed, brushing your face, doing your regular skin care, and taking a shower. After you came out, you looked into the mirror, finding two bruises on your shoulders, and scratches all over them.

"What the hell?" you questioned yourself. "Dad scratched me that hard?" you thought to yourself. You knew that he touched you, but you didn't know that he actually injured you. You got out of the bathroom, and got dressed for the day.

You tried to avoid Schlatt on the way to downstairs, but that failed. "Hey kid, how you doing?" he asked, drinking his coffee, looking normal and without a hangover, not knowing your feelings in the moment. You tried to go past him, but missed your chance. He stopped you, holding your shoulders in place so you couldn't move, "What's the matter?" he asked, not knowing the reason that he was the reason that you were scared.

"Nothing." you murmured. "It's obviously not nothing if you look like you just shit your pants, come on tell me." There was a period of silence, then you spoke up, "Um, someone hurt me." "Who was it, you want me to beat them up." he requested you to tell him.

"It would be hard to beat yourself up." you thought in your head.

"It was you dad." Those four words broke his heart. "Me, are you sure it was me, maybe it was-" you cut him off, "Yes, it was you dad." He broke down, and hugged his arms around you, compressing you into a smell of cigars and expensive cologne, making you flinch slightly, "I'm sorry little one, I'm sorry." he repeated his words, trying to drill his apology into your head.

"Calm down dad, it's ok, I forgive you."

(This was very angsty, damn, also a psa, never, and i repeat NEVER treat anyone like this, even if they did some horrible things)

taglist under here

@ilyimagines @puffed-up-bees @iminpainahh @smolbox-png @y2kluver @vanhakirja

#mcyt x reader #dream smp x reader #schlatt x reader #schlatt x y/n #schlatt x you #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt #jschlatt x you #quackity #mcyt x you #mcyt x y/n #dream smp x y/n #dream smp x you #karl jacobs #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs x you #karl jacobs x y/n #quackity x reader #quackity x you #quackity x y/n #sapnap #sapnap x reader #sapnap x you #sapnap x y/n #karl x y/n #karl x reader #karlnapity #karlnapity x reader #louistommosnesquickmilk writes #louistommosnesquickmilk

[unrequitedloveletter]

Are you Really Okay?- Kaz Brekker

I am in no way trying to romanticize depression or suicidal ideations. I’ve dealt with them my entire life and it’s been no easy feat, and I know several others who’ve dealt with them the same. I am merely basing this off my own experiences and how I’ve dealt with it when things have gotten tough in the past, this is in no way meant to put down others who’ve had different experiences to me. 

Trigger warning- talk of depression, suicidal thoughts and suicidal ideations. If you are sensitive to those topics, for your safety, I advise that this be a work of mine that you stay away from.

Fic type- angst t

Warnings- mentions of Kaz’s trauma

Kaz couldn’t understand what’d happened. A few weeks before, you’d seemed fine. You were smiling, laughing with Inej and joking with Jesper. You’d gone to every meal, ate every last bit of your food. In between bites, you indulged Jespers talk of his guns, talked to Wylan about his flute, spoke with Kaz about a plan for a heist. You were okay. 

But that’d been the weeks before. That hadn’t been the two months it took to plan the heist, or the heist itself. 

The first thing that ticked him off that day was your failure to meet everyone for breakfast. You never missed out on a good meal, especially not when good conversation came with it, and Kaz had sent Rotty up to your room to see what’d happened.

Rotty came up empty, with just a note in his hand. In the note, you’d apologized, but promised to be on time to the first rendezvous point. Kaz wouldn’t reprimand you for it. He knew you’d come and go as you pleased, whether or not you had his permission to do so, so there really was no point in reprimanding and starting a fight. 

The heist went well, as they normally did, but you didn’t go out for the victory dinner, either. He’d gone, but as the six of them walked, slowly, back to The Slat, Kaz made sure to ask Inej what the hell had been up with you, see if she knew anything.

Inej, to his delight, hadn’t come up empty. “They have depression,” she’d said. “I can’t explain it, though. I just have a baseline understanding.” 

“Tell me,” Kaz demanded. “I want to know what’s wrong. They’ve been off for weeks now.”

“Careful, Brekker,” Nina taunted. “Keep going the way that you are, it might start to sound like you actually care!” 

“He doesn’t,” Jesper quipped, and for once, Kaz found himself grateful for Jesper and his constant need to be involved in conversations. “They’re not more than an investment to him. Isn’t that right, Kaz?” He said nothing, just glanced at Inej expectantly.

“They’re sad,” Nina input before Inej got the chance. “Isn’t that what it is?”

“It’s technically defined as a severe feeling of despondency and dejection, actually,” that was Wylan. “It’s coupled with a constant feeling of sadness, emptiness and not wanting to do what might’ve once peaked their interest.”

“It goes along with suicidal thoughts, too,” Inej spoke. “And ideations. They go hand in hand. You can’t treat one without also treating the other.” Kaz felt tempted to run the rest of the way back to The Slat, all the way up to your room and demand why you’d not told him, but he resisted.

“They should’ve gotten their meds refilled a while ago, though,” Inej matched the pace when Kaz began to move just a bit quicker. “I don’t know why they haven’t, to be completely candid.”

The rest of the way back, Nina and Matthias conversed with Inej and Jesper and Wylan laughed so loud they almost woke the city up, but Kaz kept quiet, his brain overtaken with questions.

Why haven’t they told me? He thought. Why didn’t I know? I care about them, don’t I? And isn’t that a bit of a crucial detail?

It slowly began to make sense to him. The red rimmed eyes some mornings, coupled with puffy cheeks, it should’ve been clear to him that you’d cried at some point through the night while he slept. The bags under your eyes slowly becoming more pronounced as you began to stay awake later; your reluctance to tell him anything, despite how close you were. All the meals you’d missed. 

Your smile.

You’d stopped smiling so much.

Kaz missed it. The sound of your laugh circulating through the room, your smile that managed to brighten his entire day. 

He felt like an idiot for not seeing the signs when they were right there, seemingly right in front of his face. He could’ve helped you, could’ve made sure you stayed on track with the medication, he could’ve done so much, and yet, as he walked, he felt as though he’d done so little. It infuriated him.  

When the six of them had arrived back at The Slat, he turned to Inej. “I’m going to go up to their room,” he whispered. “See how they’re doing.” Inej tossed him a smile.

“You do care, don’t you?” She asked, already knowing the answer. 

“Only a little,” Kaz murmured, almost hating that he admitted it to someone other than himself. “I just want to make sure that they’re okay.”

“And if they aren’t?” Matthias’ voice almost sounded like a scold. “What will you do then, demjin? Comfort them from a doorway?” 

“Matthias!” Nina scolded. “Let Kaz do his thing, okay? You don’t know Y/N like he does. He’ll comfort them in whatever way he sees fit.” Kaz shot a grateful nod at Nina as he made his way over to the stairs and up to your room. 

After a quick break in front of your door to catch his breath, he knocked three times.

“Come in,” you called, but your voice had waivered. “Just a moment, though, okay? I have to clean some things up!” Kaz went in anyway, opening the door just enough to slide in and closing it using his back. 

“Brekker,” you whispered, pulling at the sleeves of your shirt. Kaz noticed scarring, but he decided not to say anything. “Hello.”

“Are you okay?” He asked, not at all caring that he was being so blunt. “Are you really okay, Y/N?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” you murmured as you went around the room, plucking laundry off the floor and putting trash into the small trash bin you kept beside your bed. “Why are you asking if I’m okay when I’ve done nothing to say otherwise?”

“You’ve missed meals. You’re slower than normal. You smile less,” part of him wants to reach out, take your hand in his and rub your knuckles with his thumb and be a man who can touch another human being without issue, but he knows it’s unrealistic. 

“Well, forgive me for thinking that The Bastard of The Barrel wouldn’t pick up on how many times I smiled throughout the run of a day,” you quipped. “The heist was done just fine. We all got our shares of the money, and we all returned unscathed. I fail to see why you’ve put so much effort into caring.”

“Because it’s you,” he whispered.

“I’m just another investment, Brekker. You’re welcome to stop caring now. I’m going to sleep, and I’d as soon do it without the knowledge that your back is pressed against my door.”

“You’re more than an investment,” he whispered. “I care about you. I want to know when somethings wrong. Depression isn’t the kind of thing you keep from me, Y/N.” 

“I’ve kept it from you just fine, Kaz,” you shot back, wiping at your eyes. “I’ve been able to live with it since I was a kid without issue, without you noticing, so why notice now? Is it because I’ve been slower? Because I’ve slept in and missed breakfast? Because I’ve not felt the motivation to get and up and do what we do everyday?” 

“It’s because I care, Y/N,” he took a step toward you as you set to making the small bed that you slept on. 

“How many times have you considered climbing to the roof and jumping off it?” You winced at the question, and Kaz felt his heart clench for a single moment in time. 

“Are you asking me if I’m suicidal, Brekker?”

“Yes.”

“Sometimes, I think about it. I think about going down to Fifth Harbor, jumping into the lake and swimming until the bottom is so far down that I wouldn’t be able to reach it without drowning,” Kaz moved to sit on the bed next to you, keeping a little distance.

“When I take my meds, I’m not even happy,”

“So what are you?”

“Numb. I don’t feel anything. All of the pain goes away, but so does the happiness. The joy. The smiles.” Kaz winced. He’d gone through enough days without getting a smile from you or hearing your laugh that he was almost completely sure another of them might’ve been his breaking point. 

“And without your medication?”

“Highs and lows. Mostly lows, unfortunately. Depressive episodes, no motivation. Without my meds, my emotions are a tsunami and my conscious mind is the city that it runs through.”

“How can I help?”

“This is helping,” you admit. “It’s just--I’ve talked with Wylan and Jesper about it before, but neither of them ever have anything to say about any of it. They’re understanding, but sometimes, it just...”

“Wylan says things that’d come off a motivation quote poster and Jesper cracks a joke?” Kaz questions. 

You laughed then, and Kaz, completely and utterly unsure of himself, wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

For a couple of long lasting seconds, he was there again. In the barge, with Jordies slippery, slimy body beneath him as he kicked his way back to shore, but then he glanced at you. Saw the fear in your eyes as you registered what he’d done, trying to study him and figure out if you’d crossed a boundary, but all Kaz did was nod.

“I’m okay, L/N,” he whispered. “I’m fine.” 

You two stayed like that for a long, long time, until both of your eyes fluttered closed and sleep dragged you under. 

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #shadow and bone #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #matthias helvar #nina zenik #wylan van eck

[wornoutmouse]

Last one I promise to stop bothering you ahhhhh . Can we plz get a Iida Tenya (pro hero age) smut (I love this guy) like maybe you reader catching him jerking off can you imagine prim and proper tenya doing dirty things? And things get crazy after:) thank you for listening to the rambles of a crazy woman

Your wish is my command

We all know Iida has a big dick right?

And yes i looked up black hairstyles cause i just started doing my own hair leave me alone 🤚🏿

Dubious Consent, blackmail, squirting

Working for the Iida family was honest but harsh work. They strived for professionalism and didn’t allow mistakes, no matter how small. With each member holding a leading title in almost every section of Japan, it was a no-brainer that you would choose to work with them. The only problem was, your socially oblivious boss.

One would think that as the new Ingenium’s sidekick, you would have an insider’s look into his personality and lifestyle, but that was farthest from the truth. For the 2 years that you’ve worked alongside him, you had been kept at a distance and forced mainly to handle the paperwork.

According to him, until he was sure you could handle yourself on the field, you needed to stay away from danger. In hindsight, you would have understood that choice and would have been completely fine with it. However the fact you couldn't m could never learn to handle yourself in the feels if you were never allowed on the feels was a glowing contradiction

Spending time with your boss was informative yet draining. He always set an example of a good business deal and would always explain things you didn’t understand.

The downside however, was his obsession with the non-existent dress code. Since you don’t do any outside work lately, you never put on your hero costume. So i you were always dressed in normal clothes, and every last one of them he had something to critique about.

“Here’s your coffee Mr. Iida.” The bluenette man hummed his appreciation and you turn to sit back at your corner desk.“Miss L/n….”

You tense, preparing yourself as the sound of his chair scraping against the hardwood floors announced his incoming presence. His heavy footsteps loomed closer until he stopped just barely behind you.

Your legs are kicked apart and you find your boss kneeling below you with a measuring tape. “I am appalled, your skirt is 4 centimeters away from the recommended 5 inches above the knee, we do not run a brothel here, please respect the code Miss L/n!”

You sighed, it was best to just go along with his antics. “Yes, Mr. Iida, I’m sorry for my ignorance.” As you bowed you faintly heard a small choking sound and Iida’s hands grabbed your shoulders to raise you back up. “I’ll have none of that bowing, it was a simple mistake.” He pushed up his glasses before stiffly walking back to his desk.

When he came back into view, his face was slightly flushed from what you assumed to be the heat, “I am printing something in the room below, do you mind getting it for me?” You nod and headed out the door. It may have been your imagination but you could have sworn you heard a faint curse word coming from your boss’s mouth.

Reaching the lower room was quick and effortless so you sat and waited for the presumed paperwork Iida was printing. Many of your coworkers passed you with pitying looks that you did your best to ignore. You knew that this life was not one strived for by an aspiring hero but you couldn’t just up and leave.

Your head began to itch slightly. Why is it taking so long to print? While you pondered the situation, you watched a short woman walk up to the copy machine and begin copying her own set of work. You felt your eye twitch, there wasn’t anything even programmed to print.

You stood up and quickly made your way back to your office. Stepping inside, you look blandly at your enclosed room. The memory of your boss's large windowed room flashes through your mind and you decide to work out there instead.

As you walked to the door that connected your office to his, you tilt your head curiously as a loud muffled growl comes from inside. "F-Fuck yes, suck that cock!"

His voice was guttural, and the words were something you would never dream of him saying. But what stuck out to you more was where it was all happening. I know this man ain't screwing at work!!

Without thinking you barge into the room and your jaw drops at the sight.

Sitting in your chair, was your boss, Tenya Iida. His hair was disheveled and his suit was reduced to nothing but his white shirt and open slacks. He was flushed from the neck up and sweat had accumulated in his brow.

Held tightly in his right hand was his dick and it was just as dodged as him. It was also bigger than you imagined

….not that you even imagined it in the first place.

Angry blue eyes dart up to look at you through low hanging bangs and you realised you had been staring. "This is uh… Sorry!" You internally cringe at the fact you stuttered.

As you turn around to leave, you are restricted by Iida's voice. "Stop." Almost as if in a horror movie, you turn back to him slowly and it takes all your willpower not to look down as he had shamefully left his manhood out.

You press yourself against the door as you watched Iida remove his glasses and place them on your desk. "It's rude not to knock Miss L/n." You swallow shallowly when he raises a finger to motion you forward and for a moment you lose all rational as you soon found yourself standing in front of him.

His legs were spread wide open and his dick looked like it was ready to bust any moment. The tip had become an even darker red hue, contrasting ironically with the trimmed layer of dark blue curls nestled at the base.

Despite the situation, the man before you sat looking rather relaxed. He slowly rolled up his sleeves and you caught sight of swirling tattoo sleeves wrapping around each bicep. "Come closer Y/n, I promise not to bite very hard."

He had never used your first name before and that seemed to compel you to move closer, allowing him to use your wrist to place you in-between his legs. "There is a very important rule that I have yet to teach you in the world of business."

The trained look he had focused on you left no room for argument as one of his large hands easily wrapped around your upper thigh. A shiver runs up your spine as his thumb strokes your skin slightly under your skirt. "When one has even an ounce of blackmail against you…"

Iida grabs the front of your blouse and uses it as leverage to tug you to the ground. Down there, fingers gingerly comb through your freshly dyed Nubian Twists, "... you need to blackmail them as well, fair trade and all that."

The grip in your scalp tightens and you feel your eyes slightly water at the sharp sting. The other hand still holding his cock, positions it towards your full lips as a silent order. Salty precum covers your mouth and your tongue darts out to lick it off. The sight was porn worthy.

Before you got too carried away, you decided to see how far you could push him. You bring your hands to softly wrap around his member as you gauged his response. "If I agree to this arrangement, what will I get in return?"

Iida sighed as you licked his dick starting from the balls to just below the top, "What do you want, a raise?" You shake your head and kiss a thick vein traveling along his shaft. "I want to work out there, as your official sidekick."

You could tell his patience was running thin as his hips twitched so you wrapped your mouth around the top, pressing the flat of your tongue against the slit. Iida looked down at you, teeth nibbling roughly on his bottom lip. "Why...ah~ why should I let you work anywhere near me after this!?"

In a bout of anger, you accidently let your teeth drag down the sensitive skin. Iida's eyes roll to the back of his head in such a way that you couldn't pinpoint it as a result of pain or pleasure. "I can easily report your victimizing and unprofessional behavior to HR."

Iida's eyebrows furrowed and he yanked you off of his cock. You stand up shakily before being slammed against his glass table. "You got a lot of nerve, making demands yet you're the reason I was being so unprofessional."

Iida slides down to his knees and raises your skirt over your plump ass. You internally groan as you remember the matching baby blue lingerie you were wearing, that was not going to help your case. Iida slaps your right asscheek nice and hard making you moan softly. "Who is this for?"

You decide to play into it, you sway your hips a little and stick your butt out closer to his face. "It's for me, myself, and I." Iida pulls at your panty strap before letting it snap back. You had to admit it stung. Giving attention to your other cheek, a tan hand takes hold of it and squeezes hard.

"And if I let you work with me, what is my reward?" Iida uses his teeth to pull the fabric of your underwear away from your hidden prize. You hummed as if in thought, "Good karma?"

Lips wrap around your clit and suck hard, "Sorry that's not good enough for me." You grind back on his face and relax on his table more. His hot tongue massaged and prodded your lips and clit, but never got close to being inside of you.

"Working as a pro hero is karma filling in itself, but it is stressful. Not enough time for personal focus."

Iida sucked on two of his fingers before siding them up and down your slit, taking extra time to teasingly delve past your opening before retreating just as fast. You groan, "What do you want me to do, suck your dick under the table on weekends?!"

Iida hums as he joins his mouth along with his fingers. You sigh as his large middle finger finally breaches you and sends soothing sparks throughout your body as it rubs against your walls. The combined stimulation of his hot tongue against your clit, and his even warmer fingers barely grazing against your g-spot had you in pure ecstasy.

"As convenient as that sounds, if someone were to find out we'd be in a lot of trouble." At this point you're bouncing back on his fingers giving Iida a show as your pussy squelches around his fingers. Your mouth hands open in soft pants, fogging up the clear glass below you.

Iida stand up as he continues to finger fuck you in the same rythm as he pumps his cock. "How about dinner and we see how that goes? Let's be professional." You side your clenched fists down your sides as Iida removes his fingers and replaces them with his dick.

You wait in anticipation for him to fuck you but he stands completely still, and you then realise that he was waiting for an answer. "You don't think it's a little too late, dinner comes first you know?!"

As much as Iida loved your banter, his dick was so fucking hard that your joke only agitated him.

Leaning over you, he places one hand on the glass table while the other takes hold of your hair, jerking it back. You hiss as your scalp burns for a moment, but that small pain was replaced with a greater one as teeth sank into your shoulder. "If your going to be sidekick material, that attitude is going to have to be worked on now stop testing me before I fuck it out of you."

You roll your eyes and grind down on his dick making him moan, "Fine sergeant dick, I'll be your little trophy wife, in return let me work for once, I didn't go to school for nothing damnit."

Your hair is released so much quicker than you expected that you almost hit your head on the table. Iida chuckles darkly, "Wife? Trophy slut would be a better word for it." Another harsh smack was delivered to your burning bottom, but he was satisfied after long last.

His hips finally press firmly against you as the full length of him is accepted with your pulsating core.You try to talk through the discomfort, "My ring better be huge after this."

Iida laughed sympathetically as he kissed the dark bruise forming from where he bit you. "The biggest money can buy."

The stretch began to feel pleasurable as his thrusts got faster. As a result of course you could feel yourself getting louder as well. "Faster!" Iida grunted as he held your waist to balance himself. Underneath the sound of the wobbling desk, your low groans are heard as the slapping of skin soon becomes more incessant.

"I've been waiting to fuck this lewd bottom for months! Parading around in all them damn form during outfits!"

The feeling of your bosses cock pumping in and out of you was overwhelming as he was ruthless when it came to chasing his own pleasure. Your legs trembled themselves closed, as you received another harsh slap to your ass. By the time this was over, you were sure you were going to be unable to sit.

On the other end, Iida was deeply pleasured by the sight of your ebony skin shaking from the force of each thrust. That's why it was unsurprising when a high pitched moan that most definitely wasn't yours fills the room.

"Ah, yes, I'm going to cum so deep inside of you, I can right? Pretty please!?" The man was practically whimpering as his cock twitched inside of you. If you were honest, you couldn't even answer as you feel his cum fill your insides. Even so, you felt your toes curl as he kept going.

"Come for me Miss L/n!" The shakiness that seeped from his voice as he fucked himself into an overstimulated mess was adorably pathetic. You do your best to reach in between your legs and stimulate your clit.

As you get closer, your cute hole tightens like a vice around Iida's cock and he finds himself coming again in quick spurts just like before. He was unable to take anymore stimulation and weakly pulled out of you before pumping the fingers in your wet heat. "Come on, cum on my fingers Miss. L/n."

You while loudly as you rub your clit faster and like a large wave, an orgasm crashes down on your body making s clear liquid spew from your cunt, wetting the floor.

#black y/n #blackreader #bnha headcanons #mha #bnha x black reader #mha smut #iida x black reader #iida smut #iida imagine #semi public sex #iida x reader

[the-last-kenobi]

I love your writing so much!! If you’re still taking requests, could you do 9 with Obi-Wan and Anakin?

Thank you!! <3 And of course! I hope you enjoy.

From this various prompts list.

Set after The Wrong Jedi arc. And it’s way... way longer than I meant it to be. Whoops. I told myself, make this one short. Actually a prompt fill. And then I laughed at myself and wrote a fic and I don’t know exactly how long it is because I was too scared to look at the word count.

I tagged it as long post so I hope those of you who aren’t in the mood for my rambling bs are as to skip it!

I will add a reading cut when I get my hands on a laptop.

_

When Skywalker stormed into the training bay, his fists clenched by his sides, troopers scattered out of his way like silver-fish before a Bloodfin.

Even without Force-sensitivity, it was impossible to miss the potent fury rolling off the young General in waves, almost visible on the air, scalding anyone who got too near. His eyes glided right over the Clones, however, and fixed on a single figure standing alone on a mat, performing a slow exercise.

Anakin strode over to the edge of the mat and stamped his foot on the edge, twisting it a few inches just as the other man’s foot came back down from a stretch. He slipped. At the last second he caught himself, turning on the spot to regain his balance.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan spoke calmly, as if nothing had just happened. As if his friend wasn’t glaring at him with rage and disdain.

“A duel,” said Anakin, in a tone that brokered no argument.

General Kenobi’s face tightened slightly. But he nodded graciously and summoned his lightsaber to his hands, drawing backwards towards the opposite wall and raising his blue blade in a low Soresu opening.

Skywalker waited only half a second before launching himself at the other man in a blur of blue light and red-hot anger.

Cody, watching from the wall, clasped his hands behind his back as he watched the two Jedi spar at bewildering speeds.

Dizzying swirls of colliding blue light. Last-moment maneuvers, a blade hot as a sun missing moving limbs by inches. Skywalker always on the offensive. Kenobi always giving ground.

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened slightly as his entire body trembled under the weight of a blow that could have removed his head from his shoulders had he not blocked it; his own serenity seemed to shrink in the face of Anakin’s fire and desperation.

There was a blur of motion, and Skywalker stood triumphant as Kenobi crashed to the floor with the younger man’s saber an inch from his chest.

Obi-Wan stared up at his friend. “Solah,” he whispered.

For a moment more, the scene hung suspended. The lightsaber burning close, too close, to Obi-Wan’s vulnerable body, Anakin looming over him with anger in his eyes.

Then Anakin turned and stalked out of the room, leaving his former Master on the floor with a faint scorch mark on his pale tunics.

“Sir.” Cody strode over to his General immediately and helped him to his feet, watching him wince, feeling a surge of helpless anger at the nagging realization that he had never anticipated a time when his General would be hurting because of Skywalker. “Sir.”

“Cody,” the Jedi said wearily. “I need to get up to the bridge.”

“You need to see Hoop,” said Cody, referring to the 212th’s medic.

Obi-Wan shook his head. “No. We’re still two days out through hyperspace and we need to find a way to make contact with the ground troops on Ryloth before we go barging in.”

Cody clenched his jaw but assented, knowing that there was no dissuading his General, not now. He had just one more thing to say.

“General.” He waited until Kenobi looked at him. “You threw that fight.”

Obi-Wan inhaled slowly, a look of what his Commander recognized as pain — grief — flickering behind his blue eyes. “Anakin needed the win,” he said quietly.

=

The second time Anakin Skywalker stormed into the training bay, everyone moved aside to watch even before Obi-Wan had turned around to greet his former apprentice.

Men from the 501st and the 212th, thrown together on this joint mission as if to both aggravate and soothe the hurt of Ahsoka’s departure, stood side by side and watched as their Generals flung themselves into the fight as if lives depended on it.

As Kenobi let Skywalker take the offensive. As he let Skywalker come to the edge of victory again and again and then held him off at the last second.

As Anakin’s rage grew, as he began to resent Obi-Wan for dragging the battle out and denying Anakin the victory he craved and deserved. Holding him back as always.

As for the second time Kenobi threw the fight in a way that Anakin didn’t notice.

Letting him walk off with his rage dispersed for awhile, the relieved and triumphant victor, while the bruised and shaken loser climbed to his feet and went back to work with an air of gravity around him. As if Obi-Wan had absorbed the weight of his friend’s anger and carried it like a shroud.

Maybe he did.

=

The third time Anakin confronted Obi-Wan, he won by punching Obi-Wan in the face.

The fourth time Anakin confronted Obi-Wan, he won by burning his leg from hip to ankle.

The sixth time Anakin confronted Obi-Wan, he won by pressing his foot down on the other man’s throat almost to the point of unconsciousness.

The eighth time, he won by knocking Obi-Wan’s lightsaber from his hands and driving him back against a wall with his own saber at Obi-Wan’s neck.

=

“You have to stop,” Hoop said.

Obi-Wan shook his head. “He... needs this.” A hiss escaped his lips as the medic dabbed bacta along the abrasion above his eye, the bacta he had tried to say he didn’t need.

“He needs a therapist and an ass kicking,” retorted Hoop, disregarding standard respect. He didn’t care about protocol in general, and certainly not when his General turned up every other day — usually dragged in by Cody — with bruises and cuts and strained muscles.

Obi-Wan only shook his head again.

=

Cody, Rex, Hoop, and many of the others had hoped that the battles on Ryloth would serve as a good outlet for General Skywalker.

They did.

But it wasn’t enough.

Fighting what felt like a futile war for the planet’s freedom, being back on Ryloth yet again, and the gaping hole in the 501st where Ahsoka had once stood only seemed to drive Skywalker’s pain upwards. And for Anakin, all emotions led to rage, eventually.

He could not stand the depths of his emotions, the dark days, the low times. If he was not happy, he chose rage over sorrow.

And there was so much sorrow.

=

There was a two-day reprieve after the campaign on Ryloth. Temporary victory had been purchased yet again with the blood of the natives and the GAR, and the 501st and 212th departed for another campaign halfway across the galaxy at once.

And for two days there was time to rest and think.

And then Anakin stalked into the training bay again. Not finding Obi-Wan, he waited for him, and as soon as the older Jedi entered the room, raised his lightsaber in an Ataru salute.

=

The thirteenth time Anakin challenged Obi-Wan, they dueled for over three hours, and both fell exhausted to the ground.

The nineteenth time, Anakin left Obi-Wan with a leg broken in two places. Cody had to physically restrain Hoop — and himself, frankly — from jumping General Skywalker and throttling him.

The twenty-eighth time, Obi-Wan’s guard slipped, and Anakin’s saber drove straight through Obi-Wan’s thigh. A mirror image of the wound Dooku had inflicted on his other leg, a lifetime ago it seemed, back when they had been on the same side.

Were they still?

Anakin’s face had dropped with shock at the injury, and before any of the men could react, he had picked Obi-Wan up in his arms and rushed him to the med bay.

And then the Council called to speak with Kenobi privately, and Anakin’s rage and hurt against them for their role in handing his Padawan over to the authorities rose up again like a serpent reading to strike.

The thirtieth time Anakin challenged Obi-Wan, he fought with his left hand, as if taunting his Master that he was still superior.

The thirty-sixth time Anakin challenged Obi-Wan, the older Jedi fought back, taking the offensive just long enough that it seemed he would be victorious — and then something in Anakin’s face broke. Grief and dismay were revealed in the cracks of his wrath, and Obi-Wan retreated again, and then fell.

The fortieth time Anakin challenged Obi-Wan, he was met with silence.

Anakin stared, his saber already lit in his hands, as Obi-Wan stood up slowly from where he had been meditating.

He dragged himself to his feet like a man on the verge of collapse, but he was as irritatingly graceful as ever, composed, serene. Anakin’s hands tightened on his weapon.

“Well?” he prompted.

Obi-Wan said nothing.

He looked down at the floor, and some of his burnished, ruddy hair fell over his eyes, concealing his face from view. Anakin waited impatiently. A strange feeling rose inside him, something nauseous and uncertain, and he did not want to know what it was.

“Well?” he demanded more aggressively.

Obi-Wan swallowed hard and looked up at him.

And Anakin was struck by how small his Master looked.

Shorter than him by a few inches, yes, but somehow that larger-than-life quality that hung about the man had fallen away. He looked tired. Beaten, humbled, hurt — like a child, like a man driven to the edge and then over it without anyone pausing to take notice of his fall.

His blue eyes were shattered by unshed tears.

Anakin recoiled.

“I can’t,” Obi-Wan croaked. His voice was tight as a wire, strained with the effort of holding back tears. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Anakin. I... I’m too tired to be your emotional punching bag today.”

“Obi-Wan—” said Anakin, not even knowing what he was going to say, and stopped there.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan repeated. And he sounded it. Looked it. Was dripping remorse into the air like a sky about to storm. “Please. If this is what you need, I can keep doing it, but I just need today. I need a day to breathe. And — and if you’re —”

A tear trickled down over one cheek and into his beard. Then another.

Anakin was watching with his expression frozen between anger and shock.

Cody leaned forward as if about to spring. Rex’s hand settled on his shoulder.

“If you just need more time, I’ll give it to you,” Obi-Wan whispered. “But if you’re angry enough to strike me down unarmed... do it. I don’t — I don’t want — I can’t —”

Cody jolted under Rex’s grip.

And still, Anakin’s saber blazed in his hands, casting Obi-Wan in blue light, reflected in his shining eyes.

“I can’t,” Obi-Wan said helplessly.

Anakin hesitated.

Conflicting emotions ran across his face one after the other, grief chasing pain chasing anger chasing despair chasing rage, like shadows passing over deeper waters.

He raised his saber a little higher.

=

#and that there is an ambiguous ending #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #star wars #my writing #prompt fill #commander cody #captain rex #501st battalion #212th attack battalion #ahsoka tano #the wrong jedi #Anakin has issues #obi wan has issues #someone hug them #long post #very long post #very very long post

[khaleesiofalicante]

LIGHTWOOD BANES WEEK - ALEC & MAX

Alec was peering through the report from the Head of the LA Institute, Julian Blackthorn, when there was a tentative knock on the door.

Huh. That was odd.

When Magnus had made Alec an office room – and by made, he meant literally summoned it from nowhere – Alec had been secretly pleased.

Of course there were downsides to this kind of gift – like when Magnus magically made the room vanish, along with Alec’s belongings, when they had a little domestic quarrel.

There was no need to knock before entering Alec’s office because the room didn’t have a door - a gesture from Magnus that Alec appreciated. It was to show that anyone who needed Alec’s help was welcome.

But it wasn’t the door-less knocking that Alec found odd, but it rather who it came from.

He was used to his son barging into the office – or any room rather, much to Magnus’ dismay.

So this was new. And a little odd. 

“Max?” Alec took off  his reading glasses and glanced at his son.

The blue-eyed boy was standing awkwardly in the threshold of the room – where a door should have been.

Alec realized he was waiting. Odd again. 

“Come in,” Alec gestured at the seat in front of him.

Max pulled it back and sat down - properly. Odd. Odd. Odd. 

Max would always walk in and share some random fact he found out - all the while sprawled on the chair like a cat, with his feet hanging off the side. The boy never sat down properly. 

But now, he was sitting carefully, his feet ready to bolt any minute. 

“What is it?” Alec asked, feeling concerned.

He has been the boy’s father for 17 years. One would think Alec had gotten around to figuring out this whole parenting thing. But it was an endless course – with a lot of surprise pop quizzes.

This seemed like one of them.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Max said, staring at his knotted hands.

Alec’s anxiety deepened. Max never hesitated. If there was something he wanted to ask, he would simply ask.

“Okay,” Alec tried to sound calm. “What is it?”

“It’s a bit…You know what?” Max suddenly got up. “I’ll google it.”

“Sit down,” Alec said, the tone of the Consul creeping in. “What’s wrong? Tell me.”

“I don’t know how to ask,” Max said awkwardly.

“Use your words,” Alec said softly. “Is this shadow world business?”

“Oh no no,” Max shook his head immediately. “It’s…It’s, um, It’s about…a boy.”

“Did some boy at the institute say something to you again?” Alec demanded, his fingers itching for his bow. “Because if someone did, I wil-”

“No, it’s not like that,” Max looked frantic. “It’s about a boy…I like.”

Oh.

Alec blinked.

Oh.

“A real boy?” Alec asked. “Not one of the mundanes from your posters?”

“It’s a real boy,” Max’s lips twitched.

“Okay,” Alec smiled, feeling equally giddy and nervous about the prospect of his son dating. “What’s his name?”

“Nuh-huh,” Max shook his head. “Not happening.”

“Is it a shadowhunter?” Alec asked, leaning closer. “What institute is he from?”

It could be a shadowhunter. Max did spend an awful lot of time in the New York institute. Alec had always thought it was because of “Uncle Jace” but maybe there was someone else…

“Dad, stop!” Max groaned. “You know what? This was a mistake. I’ll ju-”

“Sorry. Sorry,” Alec raised his hands in surrender. “Alright. What did you want to ask?”

Max looked away. Alec saw his horns quiver a little – a telltale sign that Max was anxious.

“Max,” Alec called softly. “You can talk to me.”

“You won’t freak out?” Max asked, biting his lip.

“I won’t,” Alec promised. He could do this. He has been a father for more than a decade. He can do this.

“Okay,” Max took a deep breath. “When you’re with a boy…and you’re a boy…and there are like two boys…”

Alec gaped. “There are TWO boys!?!?!”

“No. No. Just one,” Max looked horrified. “I mean there are two, but I’m one of them!”

“Oh okay,” Alec regained his composure.

He was okay with Max dating however many people he wanted of course – as long as they all consented – but he had to admit talking about one itself seemed like a challenge. He will need a little more time to prepare for anything else. He needed to take baby steps!

“When there two boys,” Max started again. “How do you know…like how do, um, how do you know what happens?”

Alec chuckled.

“Well, it works differently for different people,” Alec pointed out. “Sometimes you always know you like boys and sometimes it takes a certain someone to help you realize and other t-”

“I know I like boys,” Max interrupted, and Alec wasn’t surprised to hear that. “That’s not what I meant.”

Alec frowned.

“Then what did you mean?” Alec asked. “You need to be more specific, Max.”

Magnus seemed to be running out of patience. He sighed. “When there are two boys…How do you know which one is which?”

“Which one is what?” Alec asked, genuinely confused.

“You know,” Max prompted. “When you have sex. How do you know which one is which?”

Alec blinked.

And then he blinked again.

And it dawned on him. So much for baby steps. 

“YOU’RE HAVING SEX???”

“Shhh!” Max whispered furiously. “You promised you won’t freak out!”

“I’M NOT FREAKING OUT!” Alec whispered loudly – totally freaking out.

“Stop it!” Max warned.

“IS IT A SHADOWHUNTER?” Alec whispered loudly. 

“I’m gonna go to my room,” Max got up.

“Sit down. Sit down,” Alec said quickly.

He can do this. He can totally do this.

Alec reached down and grabbed a bottle of water and started chugging. Max eyed him worriedly.

“You okay?”

Alec nodded, chugging more water.

“We haven’t had sex yet,” Max pointed out. “Just hand stu-”

Alec choked and the water spluttered all over the desk.

Max flicked a wrist and the contents of the table dried themselves immediately.

“This was a mistake,” Max said quietly. “I should have talked to Bapa.”

For some reason, Alec felt oddly touched by that.

Max had come to him.

Him.

“Why didn’t you talk to him?” Alec asked curiously.

It was a no brainer that Magnus was the ideal person to talk about this.

“Because I was worried he will do another PowerPoint,” Max rolled his eyes.

Alec chuckled.

Magnua was ideal. But he was also a little too enthusiastic.

When Max and Rafe had come of age, he had sat them down done a presentation on safe sex – with a Q&A session too.

Rafe had thoroughly enjoyed it and put up his hands multiple times.

Alec and Max however had briefly conspired to make a portal and run away to Peru since Magnus wasn’t allowed there.

“I did ask Uncle Jace,” Max smiled a little.

“Uncle Jace?” Alec couldn’t help but feel offended. “Uncle Jace isn’t even…Uncle Jace has never been with….UNCLE JACE HAD SEX IN HELL FOR CRYING OUT LOUD.”

“By the angel, dad!” Max swore - and as always the nephilim phrase on his warlock son’s lips made Alec smile.

“Why would you talk to Jace about this?” Alec asked.

“I dunno,” Max shrugged. “He is always chill about these things. And he can talk to me about sex without choking on water or turning red.”

“I’m not red!” Alec protested.

“Your face looks redder than Aunt Izzy’s broccoli soup,” Max giggled.

“First of all, broccoli soup is not supposed to be red,” Alec pointed out worriedly. “Secondly, I’m not embarrassed. Never of you.”

Max gave him a tiny grin in response.

“Did you ask Uncle Jace because this boy is from his institute?”

Max just glared and Alec conceded.

“What did Uncle Jace say?” Alec inquired.

“Nothing,” Max chuckled. “He got emotional and said ‘they grow up too fast’ or something and I quickly escaped before he started crying.”

“He never told me anything about it!” Alec said, feeling betrayed.

“Well, I kinda told him not to,” Max winced.

“Why not?” Alec asked, feeling a little ashamed. “Do you not want to talk to me about this kind of stuff? Do you…Do you not trust me?”

“Of course, I trust you,” Max said without missing a beat. “I just…I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable."

Alec’s eyes softened – as did his heart.

“Max,” Alec said softly. “When I was your age, I would have never even thought of talking to my father about this kind of thing. I don’t think any of us could. We were…scared. Ashamed of our bodies and our sexualities. Confused and lost. I don’t ever want you feeling like that.”

“But I-”

“And I don’t ever want you to feel like you can’t talk to me,” Alec urged. “I’m your father. You can always talk to me about anything.”

“Are you sure?” Max asked, biting his lip.

“Always,” Alec repeated, his eyes steady.

Max still looked unsure.

“This is what I fought for, Max,” Alec said gently. “You’re what I fought for.”

Max smiled at that. “You promise?”

“I promise,” Alec smiled back. “But are you sure? I don’t want you to do things because you feel like you have to do them.”

“I want to do it,” Max whispered. “I just…I don’t know how or who should…”

Alec took a deep breath. Okay he can do this.

He did want this son to talk to him about anything, but Alec had to be careful with his words. He wasn’t the most eloquent person, and he wasn’t suave like Magnus.

He felt nervous about messing this up or telling Max the wrong thing.

Whenever Alec felt anxious, he immediately thought of Magnus.

A different memory every time. But each one always managed to pull him back. Each one always powerful enough to give him the strength he needed.

An image of Magnus gliding him across the ballroom in Venice swirled into his mind. He remembered looking at his own reflection and realizing he had never been happier.

An idea struck him. 

“Think of it like dancing,” Alec told his son now.

Max blinked, his blue eyelashes fluttering. “Dancing?”

“Yeah. Waltzing for example. There is someone who leads and someone who follows,” Alec pointed out. “Some people feel more comfortable with leading, and others feel more comfortable following. It changes from person to person.”

Max’s brows knit in concentration. “Okay. I see where you are going. Go ahead.”

Alec grinned and gave himself a tiny self-five under the table.

“But just because you like leading, it doesn’t mean that you always have to lead. It’s the same for following too. Sometimes you want to lead and then other times you might want to follow.”

Max considered that. “So, you’re saying whether I want to lead or follow changes with everyone I date?”

“It could, nothing wrong with that,” Alec pointed out quickly. “It could also be with the same person too. Sometimes you want them to lead or follow for a change.”

“And that’s okay too?”

“Of course,” Alec nodded. “But you need to make sure they want to do it. Just because you want them to follow or lead, doesn’t mean they should. Same goes for you.”

Max nodded, looking way too serious for a 17-year-old boy.

“Sometimes you don’t want to change how you dance and that’s okay too,” Alec pointed out. “If you think you only want to lead, then that’s it. Just like with following. If you are more comfortable with following, then stick to it.”

“Okay,” Max said slowly. “But how do I figure out if I want to lead or follow?”

Alec thought about it for a moment.

“Well, sometimes you instinctually know,” he said carefully. “Your body knows what it wants and what it feels comfortable with.”

Max hummed.

“Think about other stuff,” Alec said, trying not to sound awkward. “Like kissing. You should know where you like to be kissed and where you don’t. It’s just like that. You need to listen to your body. Trust it. Trust your instincts.”

Max nodded again. “Okay. What if I…What if I lead and then I don’t like it?”

“Then you try following,” Alec replied. “Sometimes you might not like that either. If you like neither, that’s okay too. Just because everyone is dancing, it doesn’t mean you have to do it too.”

“Oh,” Max said now. “Oh okay.”

“It depends on a lot of things,” Alec said. “The music. The space. These can all affect whether you want to lead or follow or do neither. But the most important thing is your dancing partner. You can’t dance by yourself.”

“Well, technically you can,” Max grinned, and Alec saw a shade of Magnus’ cheekiness reflect in his blue eyes.

“Max!” he chastised.

“Sorry. Sorry,” Max put up his hands. “So, about the dancing partner?”

“You need to trust them and they need to trust you,” Alec said, a little more seriously now. “Dancing can be a little intimidating sometimes. Especially if you haven’t done it before. It’s easier when do it with someone who you trust. Someone who will catch you if you trip and won’t judge you for being clumsy.”

“This analogy is getting out of hand,” Max muttered.

“But you do get my point, right?” Alec asked, still serious. “It’s alright to want to have sex. But remember that it’s not always about who does what. These roles...They don’t define you. Sometimes…Sometimes people will say things.”

“Things?” Max bit his lip worriedly.

“Sometimes,” Alec said, because he didn’t want his son to worry. “For example, if this boy is a shadowhunter, then people might expect him to lead. Because they think shadowhunter men shouldn’t follow.”

“He is not a shadowhunter, dad!” Max grumbled.

“Regardless…The point still stands. They will say people who lead the dance are better or that people who follow are inferior. They will try to tell you whether you should lead the dance or follow. Don’t listen to them.”

Max nodded again, as if he knew. It pained Alec to think that Max was already exposed to this kind of toxic stereotypes.

“Whether you are leading or following, what matters is that you enjoy the dance,” Alec told his son. “Don’t let anyone tell you what to do with your body. Only you get to decide that.”

“Okay,” Max said, he was smiling now. “Okay, dad.”

“Are we good?” Alec asked. “Do you have any questions?”

“It’s just like dancing, right?” Max asked. 

“Just like dancing,” Alec winked. “You’ll figure it out.”

Max thought for a minute. “Okay I think I’m good.”

Alec let out a quiet breath. Somehow it felt like he had passed an important exam.

“Good,” Alec smiled back. “That’s good.”

“This didn’t go as awkwardly as I thought it would,” Max chuckled.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Alec rolled his eyes fondly. “Now. About this boy….”

“I’m not telling you anything!” Max shook his head.

“Just tell me his last name!”

“It’s not a shadowhunter, dad!” Max rolled his eyes.

“Are you sure?” Alec asked.

“Well, now that you ask,” Max said, with a grin that suited the devil. “I do remember a strength rune on his abdomen the last time I li-”

Alec’s hands flew to his ears. “I CAN’T HEAR YOU. BLAH BLAH BLAH. I CAN’T HEAR YOU.”

Max moved closer to him and removed Alec’s hands and ruffled his hair affectionately. Alec, not for the first time, realized that Max was an inch taller than he was.

Suddenly it didn’t feel weird that Jace had almost cried. They did grow up too fast.

“Thanks for the talk,” Max winked. “I love you, dad.”

“I love you too, buddy,” Alec said.

“Okay then. I’m gonna go hang out with Rafe,” Max said trying to sound nonchalant.

“Are you going to the institute?” Alec raised an eyebrow.

“Think what you want,” Max grinned but then paused. “You won’t tell bapa I’m seeing someone, right? I don’t want him stalking this boy on Instagram.”

“Is that some kind of warlock hang out spot?” Alec asked.

Max barked out a laugh. “Sure. I have seen plenty of warlocks on insta. But just don’t tell him. Not yet. Can you make a promise?”

“Of course!” Alec said in an offended tone as he followed Max to the door. “You think I can’t keep a secret?”

“I think you can’t keep a secret from your beloved husband,” Max replied as he picked up his backpack.

Alec rolled his eyes. “Your bapa is not the boss of me.”

“Huh huh,” Max grinned as he ran down the stairs. “Yeah, I’ve heard the two of you dancing.”

“MAX MICHAEL!!” Alec yelled after him.

“Just don’t tell Bapa,” Max warned with a blue finger. 

“Don’t tell Bapa what?” Magnus emerged from the bedroom, wearing a purple robe, looking extremely curious and cheeky. 

Max and Alec stared at each other. 

“Nothing!” they both said at the same time.

“If this is about the boyfriend, I already know,” Magnus rolled his eyes. “Max, I'm rather hurt you’d think I wouldn’t figure it out. I’ve been following the boy on instagram for months now.”

Instagram! Alec had to find this place. Maybe he could ask Jace to help him find this warlock hideout. 

“You’re Great Poison on Insta!” Max gasped in shock. “I should have known! Only you could come up with something lame like that!”

“Hey!” Magnus protested.

“You knew?” Alec demanded from Magnus. “And you didn’t tell me! Who is this boy? Is he a shadowhunter?”

Magnus blinked. “Oh. You don’t know. Oh my god, Alexander. You really don’t know? This is going to be so much fun!”

“Magnus, tell me now!”

“Nope,” Magnus grinned and Alec knew he wasn’t going to give it up anytime soon. 

Alec put his hands on his hips. “No more dancing for you!”

Max giggled and covered his mouth. 

Magnus looked confused. “Meh. You aren’t that good of a dancer anyway,” he shrugged and walked away.

Max doubled down laughing. Alec didn’t think it was funny one bit. 

“Is there anything else I don’t know?” Alec demanded. “Is Rafael secretly married?”

“You never know,” Max winked and he ran down the stairs. 

“MAX, GET BACK HERE!” Alec yelled but Max was long gone.

Alec went back to his office room, grinning to himself.

He felt absurdly proud of himself. He didn’t think it was possible for a shadowhunter to talk about something like this. Let alone for a shadowhunter to talk to his own son about something like this.

But here he was. Once again, redefining possibilities for his people.

For his family.

“You want to come stalk this boy on instagram?” Magnus asked from the threshold of the office. 

“No, thank you,” Alec rolled his eyes. “I’d like to respect my son’s privacy.”

“Very well,” Magnus shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

He focused on Julian’s report again for five minutes before his resolve broke and Alec barged into the bedroom.

“IS HE A SHADOWHUNTER OR NOT!?!?!”

#I've always wanted to write about this I guess this was my chance ;) #I wish someone had talked to Alec about these things too :( #but im glad he gets to talk to his kids freely :)))) #alec lightwood #max lightwood bane #lightwood bane family #lightwood banes week #dani writes stuff

[abbynx]

La Squadra Esecuzione as Best Friends Headcanons

Formaggio - Very chill, first and foremost, he is down for anything to do. Videogames? He'll try to beat your ass. Cat cafes? Heck ye he is down - The type of friend who will coax you to cut class to hang out behind the school or climb over the school fence to hang around the local arcade or theatre. But if he get caught, he won't snitch and he's willing to take responsibility. Begrudgingly. - Ohhhh physical touch is bare minimum for him. He'll occasionally lean on you, perhaps shrink himself to fit himself in your pocket just to platonically cuddle and perhaps, use you as a transport. - Will high five you as a greeting, and will high five you as a farewell. Usually followed by a hug too uwu "Bro!" He holds his hand out for a high five, in which you instinctively grant him one, when he also entwines his fingers through yours and pulling you for a hug, patting your back for a second and pulling away. "I missed you bro!" - Prepare for dumb jokes, dumb puns that he effortlessly come up with as time goes by. You can't go on a day without him cracking a joke. You'd either roll your eyes at it or laugh along with him. There's nothing in between "You see that guy over there, bro?" He leans on you, arm draped around your shoulder as he points at a person from afar. "Yeah, what?" "I say... You'd be a perfect match." You glanced at him, hearing him shake a box of matches as he wiggled his eyebrows with a dumb grin. - *Finger guns and bro intensifies* Illuso - That weird person you don't see yourself associating yourself with somehow befriended him for some reason. Most likely started when you both started to wake up at 3 AM and meet in the middle of the dark, in the kitchen, wanting to grab something to eat. At first it is awkward, but soon you learned to bond through it! And soon enough, your midnight chats extended to become actual friendships! - Seems distant, but he cares. He's the type pretend not to care about you, but will glare (or more than glare depending at the severity) at people who hurt you. He is the 'I'm the only one allowed to insult them like that' type of friend. "Huh, Formaggio hasn't been teasing me. I wonder what happened." You wondered aloud, as you say beside your friend Illuso. "Must be because of his bruised jaw. The previous mission must've been tough for him." "Yeah... That..." - Probs touched-starved. He acts irritated and push you away when you try to hug him, but secretly loves it. If you stop trying to hug him, he'd be kinda sad but will not say anything. - This friendship includes you listening to him rant about every little thing, and brag about things he can't do. He appreciates you listening to be honest, and that's initially how your friendships started anyways. - Will use derogatory terms as a term of endearment. Please don't be offended, he doesn't mean any offense "Hey idiot! Get your sorry ass right here! Risotto said we have someone to take care of!" "Thanks, dumbass." "Eyo slut! Take a look at this fugly idiot!" - Does not have the habit of knocking. In fact, he just barges into your room, through the mirror. In more than one occasion has he seen you undressed but he couldn't care less about it. "Hey dumbass can I borrow your— hey, stop screaming! Anyways I ran out of hair ties, do me a solid—" - Everyone around you being confused to how you two are most unlikely to become friends, but you two are practically unlikely twins Prosciutto - You can not stop me from assuming he is quite the mom friend if you pry his shell hard enough. Perhaps a mom friend mixed with tsundere friend. "Hey! Drink your water or I'll break your ankles! No I don't care that we're in the middle of killing someone! I packed you some water and you didn't drink it! Well shit I didn't pack it specifically for you, I just managed to pack extra! Now go ahead and drink, I'll handle this one myself! While you're at it, coat yourself with sunscreen! If I hear you whining about being burnt, I swear to God—" - If you happen to be a mom friend too, you'd be bonding over the

mutual stress of having to look over the rest of the gang over a glass of wine as chaos around you ensues because you two decided to take a small break. "Formaggio and Ghiaccio is up at it again..." You sigh, swirling the content of your stemware as the distant bickering of the two aforementioned assassins echoed. "Just... Let's just lay low. It'll be over soon." Prosciutto sighs along as well, before downing his glass of whiskey. "Hopefully." And it didn't end, as it ensued and progressive got worse. Stands were called, knives were thrown, guns were shot. And two mom friends of La Squadra almost lost their voice from all the yelling and lecturing - Will scold you for your bad habits. Bad posture? He will walk behind you, press his knee on your back and roll your shoulders back whilst he lectures you about it. Messy time management? Will buy you crap to make you keep track of time. Sleeping so late? He will take whatever you're distracted with, demand you to turn your lights off as he lights soothing scented candles and tossing you some comfortable blankets to use. Barely taking care of yourself? Bro prepare yourself. "I don't understand how you live like this! You'd be dead if you were to continue that habit! At least help me help you to make you be better!" - Very blunt and honest to the point it stings, but he never lies to people he is closed to. He prefers being upfront with his loved ones and will try to rebuild their confidence and reassure them that they can be better than what they are. "When I say you're idiotic, you're but a burden, I mean it. You have all rights to be hurt by it, but don't just live with it. Prove me wrong, that you can be better than that and you'll be the best version of yourself. I know you can do it." - Will accept hugs, but will most likely not hug back. Maybe he'll just out one hand on your back and lightly stroke it, but that's it. But in rare occasions, he will return them too. Sometimes, he'll even initiate it. - Your connection to him as a friend has lead several advantages. No one in general can make a negative comment about you with Prosciutto around. His glare alone was scary and they would not wish to stick around and find out what he can do than just glaring. - Extremely appreciates when you help him around by simply carrying things for him, fetching him coffee and actually doing your damn job properly is enough to make him be filled with gratitude. Pesci - Baby. Okay, so this boy. Boy oh boy, he is baby. Take care of him, bro. Don't coddle him to the point of him being entirely dependent on you, but sis you can always reassure and make him improve himself! Perhaps a tamer version of his relationship with his brother. - You two will mostly likely be friends because you always defend him from the others from teasing him and rooting for him. He is very grateful for it and can't thank you enough. Either that, or Prosciutto paid you to babysit him. - Will constantly cling on your arm when he's anxious. It's up to you whether you'll snap at him and slap his hand away, or just let him hang around you. He'll just simply grab your wrist, and sooner and later he'd have his body pressed against yours, completely clinging on the entirety of your arm. "D-don't leave me, Y/N! I'm scared—!" - He is extremely thankful for you watching over him and protecting and by this, he tries to improve himself a lot more just so he can confidently say he can watch over you and protect you as well - Just the sweetest little thing, whenever he'd be away with Prosciutto for a mission he'd return home bearing gifts from travel and he'd give it to you. It would be something either miniature, or something practical like a knife sharpener or something. "I-I got this for you... I hope you like it! Big bro helped me pick!" - Honestly, I can imagine him just being the best, supportive and encouraging friend there could be. If ever you needed someone to confide in, he'd just sit and listen and will certainly not repeat what you told him to others. He'll try his best to comfort

you, taking inspiration to how you comfort him and will just try his best to make you feel better. "I know life is rough and hard and bad, but you always told me it will change and soon it all be over and better. It's good that you recognise you're in a bad place, now you need to take a break and then later you won't even know you've already forgotten your problem! It's okay to be sad, too, but not for too long." - The type of friend that will share anything he has. He has a cookie with him? Shit, he'll split it in half and give the other half to you. Some soda? Well I hope you don't mind drinking from the same can as he is, he will give it to you. Melone - So this nerd isn't a complete creepy pervert, not entirely at all. He's chill for most of the time, so he's a neat company if you don't mind him bombarding you with questions regarding your genetics, heritage records, blood type, zodiac signs and whatnot. But knows when to stop. - You most likely befriended him because he is one of the chill people in the group... Somewhat. Or perhaps you just started to bond over mutual love for steamy, erotic novels from the same author. If this man has shame, his guilty pleasures would be reading these types of trashy novels filled with smut. - He is great as a wingman. Complain to him about your lack of a love life, he'll observe your types and he'll somehow come up with a list by the next day enthusiastically listing them to you in a PowerPoint presentation. "If you're into girls, I have this one right here! She's compatible with your zodiac sign, although she has quite the temper she can be extremely passionate and affectionate— or perhaps you're into men, that I have as well. Several, actually. This other fellow right here is also a part of Passione from the Human trafficking branch, stoic and quite a stern one, but knows when to lay low at times and appreciate those around him— either him or the girl, you'd make good babies together!" "Melone, what the fuck—" - Very touchy. He'd lean his head on your lap as you both read on the couch, or randomly put his head on your shoulder during meetings, grab you by the arm while crossing the road, smacking your ass as a greeting (if you tell him stop, he'd stop of course), will pretend to kiss you just so he can see your reaction, anything. He is one affectionate nut that he sometimes forget about personal spaces. If you're not particularly fond of being touched like I am, simply tell him nope. I mean, he'd be sad but will respect your boundaries. The only time he'll actually respect established boundaries, to be honest. - Knows the most random facts and will share them to you for the fun of it. Additional to that, he will also mutter his shower thoughts and random cursed facts out loud just so he can curse you with the knowledge and confusion. "Did you know that dolphins masturbate using dead fishes? Also, there was an experiment involving dolphins in which one of the scientist fell in love and had sex with it. Another fact, is that dolphins are also seen doing the deed—" "Okay, Melone, I get it! Dolphins aren't as innocent as they seem! Stop ruining it for me already!" ... "Did you know that a woman once used mayonnaise as a lubri—" "MELONE!" - Being his friends meaning being his impulse control. If he intends to use his Stand on some innocent passerby just for the heck of it (for science, as he claims), smack him by the wrist and glare at him. If he eyes a particular someone for too long that the person gets too uncomfortable, try to divert his attention away. "Ow! Y/N what the heck—!" "What did I told you about oogling at people? It's impolite and creepy, stop that!" - He may not seem like it, but bro he cares a lot. If ever you had a problem, he'd sit and listen, offer you his shoulder to cry on, and perhaps hang out to divert your attention away from what's bothering and hurting you. And if you need advice, he'll try his best to come up with a flawless solution to your problems. But if comfort is what you need, his arms are open baby. Ghiaccio

- Bro you must need emergency ear plugs for this one, he is a massive screamer, a ticking time bomb with no timer that will erupt at random. If ear plugs aren't enough, cover your ears. - Befriending him was an impulse control befriending him. Well, all you did was to constantly try to calm his tits and cool his head to the point he actually barges in your room to hang out so that he can cool his head from all of the shenanigans occuring all around him, or maybe he just had another thought about something maddening about the world. "WELL WHY?! WHY IS WOMEN'S CLOTHES SIZING CHART DIFFER FROM EACH STORE?! THAT DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE! INCHES AND CENTIMETRES EXISTS FOR A REASON, DAMNIT!" - There are moments where he isn't screaming, thankfully and he's a decent person to talk to. If you're a listener, he'll do the talking, just ranting about things, rambling on and on, before complaining, and then another outbursts comes out. By this, you simply sigh, put a hand on his shoulder and talk to him in a gentle, calming voice. It usually does the trick. Formaggio and Melone joked about this talent of yours as witchcraft. - He appreciates you a lot and honestly doesn't know what to do without you and by that, he knows he has to reciprocate the care you give him somehow to show he is grateful of your friendship and care. He isn't the type to be physically affectionate, but he is extremely thoughtful about his closed loved onesa and prefers to be practical about it. He would save you your seat in meetings, fetch you snacks if he ran out for an errand, etc etc. Extremely observant of your mannerisms, that he might point that out to you and you won't even realise you do that. - So like, he is very protective as a friend. He will do something whenever someone has wronged you in any way. The others teasing you? Bam, he'll shoot them back with a witty insult. Your s/o cheated on you? Ohohoho boi, be prepared to see their name on a headline on the daily news. Your order was wrong? Bam, he'll have the waiter shaking in fear from a screaming, angry Italian mafioso as he demands for them to remake your order correctly. "WELL CAGACAZZO?! QUIT STANDING AROUND AND GET ORDERS CORRECTLY—" "G-Ghiaccio it's just a minor thing, let it go—" "THEY SERVED YOU AN INGREDIENT YOU SPECIFICALLY TOLD THEM NOT TO INCLUDE BECAUSE YOU'RE ALLERGIC TO IT! WHY ARE YOU LETTING THIS SLIDE OFF?!" - All in all, he's just glad you're there for him because damn, someday his temper is going to get the best of him and he doesn't know what to do. And with your friendship, he's learned how to cope with his spontaneous anger by carrying soothing stuff to ease his nerves (courtesy of your suggestions and gifts for him) - Basically the dynamic of a rapid gremlin with rabies and a calm, sunshine personified angel. Everyone (Riz, including, but he's more subtle and dry about it) joked about the unlikely friendship, and how your ears must've lost a little bit of hearing capacity. Rissoto - I feel like he'd be extremely attached to a childhood friend. You've been friends since before you underwent the drastic change by going through a lot to get to where he is now, and still the only person that stuck around with him was you. By that, you became the most trusted by him due to the fact you've known each other for very long. - As his best friend, you're his confidant and finds himself often going to you if ever he needed advice, or needed to vent about his stress. He really isn't vocal but when he's confiding in you, his words spill out of his mouth usually sealed tightly just steadily flows, his big strong Capo veneer falls apart in front of you but he doesn't necessarily feel unsafe by being vulnerable. That's how he trusts you. - No one will dare to bad mouth you in front of the Capo, or else there'd be hell to pay for. I mean, teasing is fine, he knows you can handle burns from team mates here and there (and will silently smirk at it) but he will not stand it if they attempt to belittle you for something unreasonable. "Watch your mouth. That was

out of their control, stop blaming them for something they can't do." - The type of friend that doesn't know how to comfort someone, but will try their best. So as you spill your heart out, tears, snot, sweat and all, he'll just pull you to his chest and awkwardly pat your shoulders to get you calm and comforted. Not to mention, he is extremely stiff at the hug and is very unsure what words to say to you to not upset or offend you any further, so he'll just ride it out smoothly, and let you let it all out on his chest. It's not like he can't wash your tears, snot and sweat on his chest anyways. - Since he is very non-vocal, he's a good listener so rant all the way! Complain about the weather, about your lack of love life, about how underpaid the hitmen team is, anything! He won't find the perfect response, so he'll just nod along and perhaps comment occasionally on what your saying. "So like, ugh, I am soooo frustrated at how Prosciutto could say that to Pesci! He makes a good point, but it's redundant for him to be too harsh on him! Look, all I'm saying is, maybe Prosciutto should start choosing his words correctly so that Pesci won't feel too upset! You know???" You glanced at your friend, as he simply sat attentively beside you. He nods silently as a response. "Anyways—" - Extremely great at deduction and the way he reads people so easily is so unreal. And so he uses this to his advantage to know what's up with you whenever you seemed off. By this, he's able to tell whenever you're upset but scared to talk about it, frustrated but too busy to talk about, etc etc. And with this, he takes the time to drag you to take a seat, and talk about what's been bothering you. If you don't wish to talk about it at all, he'll let you be after with a reassurance that you can overcome whatever the heck you're going through. - Everyone is surprised that you two aren't married??? That you're just friends??? The way you two look just makes you two look like a couple and it boggles the others how you two aren't one.

#la squadra x reader #platonic #jjba part 5 #jojo golden wind #formaggio x reader #prosciutto x reader #pesci x reader #illuso x reader #melone x reader #ghiaccio x reader #risotto x reader #headcanons #friendship #x reader

[jasmine-the-fox]

She got the helping hand she needed

Sorry for not writing anything for such a long time! Don’t worry Loose the model but win a hero is going to be updated soon enough... Just give me some time to read what I wrote so far and I might have a chapter or two up soon?

Marinette only wanted someone on her side after she spoke her side of the story, sure Chloe turned from believing Lila to protecting Mari and she had Kagami and Luka on her side... But her class, miss Bustier and her principal thought she was the bad guy, a bully, a thief or even a villain.

She really just wanted a friend, someone who would let her cry or someone who would listen to her... Even just give her a helping hand! But so far she didn’t have much help, she decided to go online to talk... With the hopes of finding her soulmate, yeah her soulmate... Something that Lila had claimed she was lying about, while Lila talks about her soulmate mark without showing it... Mari was showing her’s to her friends while trying to figure out who it was.

Chloe really wanted to help her, so she went on her international social media accounts and posted Mari’s mark asking for anyone who might have an idea on who might be her soulmate to reach out to her, she really hopes it might help as heck even Jagged Stone did the same thing! Asking his fans to help out with finding his niece’s soulmate making his fans agree and get to work, they began looking at the mark Mari has, asking there friends questions, asking what Marinette is like so they can try and pinpoint possible matches to the girl.

And so far people were doing there best to find something... But still there wasn’t much, anyone could match the orange and black smoking dragon wrapped around her neck and might not even want to reach out to her at all, it made sense since like Alya said if Mari does have a soulmate... They might not even like her and want nothing to do with her once they see her for who she is.

Until someone contacted her.

It was on her instagram, she was just uploading a new outfit she finished that was delivered that she could now reveal when she got the notification of someone reaching out to her on instagram, it was a boy around her age named Katsuki Bakugo. The guy was blond with spiky hair and sharp red eyes, he asked about the dragon design around her neck making her take a picture and sent it to him... Five minutes later he sent a picture of his left rib cage that shows a ladybug with a needle with a red thread.

He was her soulmate... They matched.

He asked if she was disappointed… Knowing her soulmate was an explosive guy who yells often... So it wasn’t smoke but explosions around the dragon, it then made sense to her and so she replied that she would like to meet him before making that decision, Katsuki explained that he was in Japan and he didn’t know if he would ever get a chance to go to Paris to meet her so she explained that she could wait and that for now this was enough for her.

But that didn’t mean her classmates cared about waiting...

They kept bothering her, kept pushing and hurting her, they laughed at her belief of having a soulmate when Lila claimed she was lying, for weeks and then months they kept going and made it worse for the young designer, then one day Lila claimed that the dragon was painted on her so Alya planned to dump water on Marinette to show the whole school that Marinette was lying about having a soulmate, so one day around lunch, Alya had with the help of Kim and Alix a huge container of water and waited over the entrance of the locker room for Mari to come out and when they saw her... They poured the water on her.

Everyone laughed at her... And then gasped.

The sight of the mark still being there proved that it wasn’t a fake... But seeing a boy with spike blonde hair with sharp red eyes glaring at everyone as he rushed towards Mari told them that he was her soulmate “You alright?” he asked softly as he handed her his jacket to cover her shivering body as they walked out of the school and towards the Grand hotel to get dry and dressed in dry clothes, Mari felt relief when she finally saw her soulmate for the first time, he brought her into the room he was staying in and brought her to the bathroom to take a hot shower while he get’s her a change of clothes.

Once she got out of the shower wrapped in a towel with her pigtails down, Katsuki had just set down on the bed a nice dress for her to wear, to find her hair down and slightly dripping with water made him quickly look away, tell her he got her some clothes and leave the room... He hopes she never finds out that he was the one to design her dress as a gift for when he meets her, it was Jasmine’s idea to be honest, Jasmine was his and Izuku’s childhood friend back when they were little and she with Izuku were known as the youngest people to find there soulmate since they met when they were four.

At the time, it was a big thing meeting your soulmate... But when your four? That’s something the world had to know, so Izuku did a lot of research about soulmates and proper gifts and discovered that handmade gifts show a great deal of love... So he made her a green bunny plushie as a gift, when Katsuki saw Marinette’s mark only through Jagged Stone’s fan website he went to look for Marinette and discovered she was his soulmate... Not knowing what to do Jasmine suggested he designs an outfit for her to wear... And he decided to not tell her he made it himself.

Just in case she rejects him in the end.

It was better this way... So he doesn’t feel the pain of her hating his work, he went to the room Izuku and Jasmine were sharing while his parent’s were out to get things ready for the photoshoot he was to work in, he knocked and Jasmine answered “Did something happen?” she asked as he barged into the room “Students laughed at her after someone dumped fucking water on her!” he exclaimed in anger making Izuku look at him in slight surprise “Kacchan... I get that your upset right now... But remember that you just met so your emotions are going to be all over the place right now” Izuku explained making Katsuki sigh and nod.

It was true, it has been confirmed that when you meet your soulmate or at least confirm who it is... Both person’s emotions go crazy for 24h of official meeting, so it’s best to be careful what you say of do when the pair is found “I just don’t know what to do?! What if she hates me!? I mean she was being bullied!! What will she think when she finds out what I used to do to you and Jasmine!?” he asked making Izuku sigh “I know it’s hard... But at least let her decide what she thinks? She might just surprise you” he explained as Katsuki sat down on the bed... He didn’t even notice Jasmine leaving the room to go find Marinette.

She walked into the room as Marinette cried with her phone in hand... She could tell the girl was going through something hard right now from something on her phone “Can I take a look at what is upsetting you?” she asked making Mari jump at her slightly, she then nodded and handed over her phone for Jasmine to look at... On the phone a girl named Alya was calling her a liar by getting a tattoo and claimed it to be her mark and then paying a guy to come over to the school to make them think there soulmates, a teacher sent an email saying she was getting detention for her actions at school and then a guy named Adrien was claiming to be disappointed in her on not taking the highroad like he said she should do.

She sighed and then moved to sit next to her on the bed “Allowing yourself to look at this isn’t healthy... Your allowing them to take you down into a depression to then end your life” Jasmine explained as she handed Mari her phone back “Katsuki would have been heartbroken if his mark vanished before meeting you... Let us help you to get better from this” she then offered and stood up with her hand stretched out for Marinette to take, she wasn’t all that sure of agreeing to be honest but the brunette seemed to be honest and kind... So Mari accepted the hand and follow the girl out of the room and towards another room where Katsuki and a curly green haired boy were.

The blonde turned to find Marinette still with her hair down but while wearing the beautiful sunset styled dress, he felt proud of designing the dress because she looked amazing while wearing it “You should call your parents and explain to them the situation” Jasmine said making Mari nod and quickly call them, explaining why she left school and her current location, they only ask for her to pick up her things from school and then stay safe where she was currently “If you want I can go to the school for you, just tell me your locker combination” Jasmine explained making Mari nod “Oh! Also i’m Jasmine Lessard and this is my soulmate Izuku Midoriya” Jasmine explained making the green haired boy nod to his introduction.

Jasmine left and came back with all of her things with a smile “Police came because someone witnessed the incident and demanded to see the CCTV footage and that the three students who dumped the water on you to be punished... So you don’t have detention anymore” she explained making Mari smile, but she was sure that it wasn’t over just yet, even so the trio began to talk to Mari about there life in Japan making Marinette happy about hearing all of this at the moment, after a while Jasmine left the room with Izuku to head out to find something to eat... Leaving Katsuki to reveal to his soulmate how he bullied his two friends from childhood.

And she still accepted him as her soulmate.

“Your trying to change your ways... The others changed for the worse while your fixing what you did wrong” she explained making him smile, the thought of her accepting him even after finding out that had bullied people before like she had gone through made him happy “I guess I should tell you... I actually designed the dress your wearing. My parents are fashion designers so it’s pretty much in the family” he explained making Mari smile at the news, the idea of her soulmate being close to designing made her happy at the fact he could help her in some ways, they began to talk about all kinds of things... Really anything they could think of until Izuku and Jasmine got back with Chloe right behind them with a look of relief at seeing Mari was alright.

For the next three days, Mari got to know Katsuki a little better making her really happy, after that he had work to do and wasn’t able to see her “Why don’t you come to the shoot? My parents have been bothering me since they saw the dress was gone” he explained making her smile and nod to the plan, when school ended she rushed home to put her things away and then went to the park to find Jasmine and Izuku were getting there make-up done for the shoot “Where’s Katsuki?” she asked making Jasmine look at her “He’s still changing... Turns out he and his mom don’t agree on something so there fighting at the moment” she explained making Mari nod as the two then moved to do the shoot.

She waited for a while as Adrien arrived with Lila, Alya and Nino with him, Lila noticed Mari and began to cry about how Mari had been sending her horrible texts about how her soulmate Katsuki Bakugo will hate her, Alya enraged was just about to head over when Katsuki went over to Mari with a lady who looked like him “Mari, this is my mom Mitsuki” he said making Marinette smile “So your the girl my brat Katsuki designed that dress for! My you are simply adorable!” she claimed making Mari blush at the woman's words.

Alya was lost, didn’t Lila say her soulmate was Katsuki? But that guy is Katsuki since she did show pictures of him... Did she lie? With a shake of her head she watched as Mitsuki took Mari away for something making Alya have no other choice but go back in defeat to her friends, Adrien moved away with Lila to get ready for there shoot while Alya told Nino what she heard “Maybe it’s the wrong guy? Just ask for his full name and see” he explained making her nod as she then saw Marinette dressed in a matching outfit to Katsuki walk over to the boy for a shoot together “You both look amazing! And your marks are in perfect view!” Mitsuki claimed as Alya saw the ladybug with sewing needle and red thread mark on Katsuki.

Lila lied. Katsuki wasn’t her soulmate... He was Marinette’s.

She looked over to Nino who had the same shocked face as she did, the duo then walked away for there shoot just as Lila and Adrien returned and a girl with short brown hair with the bottom half dyed red with glasses and a boy with curly green hair went to sit a little away from them “Oh my god it’s my BFF Jasmine! You know I actually helped her meet her soulmate Izuku a few years ago!” Lila claimed as Adrien while he did look interested... Actually winced at the lie “Dudette... Jasmine and Izuku were the youngest soulmate pair in history... They were four when they met and it’s still all over the news today” Nino explained as Lila went pale.

“You want to know something?” Alya asked the blind Lila who nodded with a smile “I saw the blonde boy, his name is Katsuki Bakugo and his mark on his left rib side... It’s a ladybug with a sewing needle and a red thread!” she claimed making Lila’s eyes widen in shock “The only one I remember being called a ladybug was Marinette who also loves to design clothes! We just began calling you our ladybug after you claimed Mari was insulting us and bullying you!” she exclaimed as Lila looked to be panicking at the fact she was found out like this.

Adrien on the other hand... Didn’t know what to do, he turned to look over where the two from the previous shoot were and saw that they were... Laughing and filming the whole thing, this was humiliating! If the video got out his father would be destroyed and known as the man who hired a liar as a model! He had to try and save himself, he looked around for some possible help but the sudden yelling fight between Alya and Lila made him move away to try and hide, he couldn’t believe he failed... He really thought that by being Lila’s friend she would at some point stop lying and change her ways... And yet it didn’t work... Instead his friends got hurt.

He began to look around for some help and ended up finding Marinette and Katsuki looking amazing during there shoot... Maybe even better then he and Lila ever could be really, he felt his heart break as he looked at his inner right wrist to where a beautiful vine of flowers graced his skin... He still didn’t know who his soulmate was and his father wanted him to date Lila, even so he tried looking at places with plants in Paris for his soulmate and could tell they weren’t in Paris at all... He just hopes to find them soon.

In the end Jasmine was actually livestreaming the whole incident with Izuku commenting the whole time in the chat... Letting everyone know about how Lila is a liar, how she tricked her classmates, teacher, principal and maybe even her parents and bullied his best friends soulmate... It went crazy and Lila was bombarded with insults on her social media... So much that she was reported and all her accounts were taken down, the class, Bustier and principal Damocles were also attacked for what they did to Marinette... Police ended up getting involved and investigated the school and class.

It took a month before the investigation was over, the class was punished, Bustier and Damocles were fired and Lila was sent to live in Italy... The class thought that things would then go back to how they were and would be friends with Mari again... But she never came back to class, there new teacher said she transferred to another school making them try to look around Paris for her... What they weren’t told was that she also left Paris for Japan to be with Katsuki and meet his friends.

She really did get the helping hand she needed all along.

#boku no hero academia #miraculous ladybug #miraculous salt #Katsuki bakugo #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #alya salt #lila salt #lila gets exposed #adrien salt #no quirks au #Soulmate au #oc #izuku midoriya #Izuku x oc #Marinette x katsuki #Oc Jasmine #no miraculous au

[stellarstarwarsimagines]

Surprises

Pairing - Din Djarin x Reader

Summary - After loosing the Razor Crest, Grogu, and the Dark Saber coming into Din’s possession, you’re not sure either of you can handle another surprise being thrown your way. 

Word Count - 1.7k

Warnings - Pregnancy

The first time it had happened, you thought something had made you ill. After all, it wasn’t as if you and Din had the best sources of food at your disposal. There had been a couple of times when something had upset your stomach. 

The second time, you had assumed it was leftover from the first. 

When you continued to be sick the next day, a sneaking suspicion had entered your mind. 

The two of you were stationed at Nevarro until you figured out what to do. You no longer had Grogu to watch out for, or a ship to fly in, and you had the dark saber to contend with now. The truth was though, you both needed a break. Too much had happened too quickly, and you both needed time to sort through it all, and the safest place to do that was Nevarro. After all, you had friends there. 

One in particular whose help you were going to need now. 

“Karga. I need you to take me to the best medical droid you have around here.” You told him, barging into his little office like you were on a mission. 

It was clear that he was surprised, but intrigued by your outburst. “Why? What’s going on?” He asked, filing the papers he was looking at away to focus on you. 

You bit your lip. You didn’t want to say it. You didn’t want to jinx it and end up looking stupid in the end, but you also knew Karga wasn’t going to help you out unless he had the story. Letting out a sigh, you crossed your arms over your chest, glancing around the room to make sure you couldn’t be overheard before answering him. “This doesn’t leave this room.” You demanded. 

Karga nodded, looking even more intrigued. 

“ . . . I think I might be pregnant.” 

To your surprise, Greef didn’t look the least bit shocked. In fact, he almost looked . . . smug, leaning back against his chair with a little smirk. “I knew you two were together.” He said. 

“Karga!” 

____________________

You hated being probed by droids. Them taking your blood was one of your least favorite things in the galaxy. There was something about seeing your blood that made you feel dizzy, anyone else’s was fine, but your own? You closed your eyes, biting your lip and waving the droid off as it asked you if you were okay. 

The test didn’t take long. The droid put your blood under a microscope and within moments, it had confirmed your suspicions. 

Pregnant. Eight weeks. 

You slumped against the back of the chair, a dozen different emotions all washing through you at the same time. It was like you two couldn’t catch a break. You were exhausted trying to keep up with all the new things that life was throwing at you, and this was another one to add to the list. You were angry at yourself for not being more careful, anxious because you weren’t sure how Din was going to react to this news. You were sure that Din was going to be a great father, how could you not be after seeing all that he had done with Grogu? But a little voice in the back of your mind wondered if this would be the breaking point. Would he be able to handle another life changing thing on top of everything else? Would he push you aside knowing that it was too much to take on? 

On the other side of your mind though, another little voice spoke up, reminding you that you were now carrying the love of your life’s child, and if everything went okay, you would now always have a piece of him, no matter what happened in the future. 

You couldn’t help but be a little happy about that. 

____________________

Still in a daze, you walked back to the little inn where you and Din had been staying, opening the door to find him sitting there with two bowls of food, waiting on you. 

The sight of him without his helmet was jarring even now. After seeing only the briefest flashes of chin for so long, it always startled you for a moment to see all of that handsome, gorgeous face whenever you did. So you always liked to take a minute to observe it, committing it to memory with a soft sigh.

As soon as he heard you, he stood up, and you were once again struck with how awkward he seemed to move without all the beskar weighing him down. “I - uh - I got us lunch.” 

You smiled at the gesture, but it seemed to be a weak one, because Din’s expression turned to concern almost at once. It was funny, how before you had never been able to tell what he was thinking or feeling, but now it was so easy. You weren’t even sure he knew how expressive those dark brown eyes were. 

He stepped towards you, his warm hand cupping your cheek. You leaned into the touch at once, enjoying the comfort it brought. “Are you all right cyar’ika?” 

His voice was so soft. Softer than it could ever sound coming through his helmet, and you melted at the sound of it. “I think that’s going to depend on you my kar’ta.” You replied, turning your head and closing your eyes to press a kiss against his calloused palm. 

His brow raised in confusion, but at that moment, you caught a whiff of the lunch that Din had brought the two of you. Your eyes widened, and you covered your mouth as a wave of nausea hit you like a blaster shot. You ran into the bathroom, hoping he wouldn’t follow you, but of course he did, holding your hair back as you vomited up the contents of your breakfast. 

“Here, just keep breathing.” He murmured, transferring your hair to one hand so he could stroke your back with the other. “It’ll be okay. Better out than in.” 

Would it be okay? 

Once you were done, you sat down, leaning your back against the wall and watching as he got you a cup of water and a towel. You took them from him gratefully, sipping slowly as to not upset your stomach once more. “Do you think it’s something you ate?” Din asked after a few moments. 

You shook your head, closing your eyes and taking a couple of deep breaths, the nerves of what you knew you were about to have to tell him making it worse. “No, I know it’s not that.” 

“You know?” He repeated, taking the glass from your hands and setting it aside. 

“It’s morning sickness.” You admitted with a little sigh. 

“But it’s the afternoon -”

“Din,” You opened your eyes, finding his confused ones staring back at you. “I’m pregnant.” 

You waited for him to say something, anything at all. You wouldn’t be sure how to feel about this until he did. Instead he fell backwards onto his ass, as if your words had knocked him over. The silence was deafening, and you could feel your heartbeat picking up at the implication of it. 

Would he leave you because of this? “I - I know the timing’s terrible, if you don’t want any part of it, I - I could go.” You suggested. It would break your heart into a thousand pieces, but you could do it for this baby, because the longer you sat there, the more you realized how much you wanted it. No matter how bad the timing was. 

Din kept his gaze on the floor, running a hand through his hair. Your fingers were twitching against your legs, and you . . . you wished he would look at you. If he would look at you, you would have a better sense of what he was feeling and then maybe . . . 

Maybe you could decide if this was a good thing or not. 

Finally, when it felt like years since you had taken a breath, he spoke. “I don’t want you to go.” He said, his voice filled with emotion even as he stared at your feet. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did though. It’s not like this is the best place for a child. We’ve learned that.” He reached out for your hand, stilling your fingers. “If you go, I would make sure you and the child were taken care of. I could send credits -”

“Woah, wait -” You interrupted, shocked at the turn the conversation had taken. “I don’t want to go anywhere. Not without you. I just knew you had so much on your plate already. A baby on top of that . . .” You broke off, glancing down at your own stomach. 

“It’s a lot.” He admitted, and this time when you looked at him, he was looking at you too. Those captivating dark brown eyes were watching you so carefully, and you were sure he was looking for your response, the same way you had been looking for his. 

So you let a little smile settle on your lips, getting on your knees to scoot closer to him, “but we’ve already been doing the parenting thing . . . not with a human, but same concept, right?” You asked. 

A small twinkle appeared in Din’s eyes that made your smile widen. “Might even be easier, since he won’t be able to move things with his mind.” 

“He, huh?” You said as Din pulled you into his lap. “How do you know that?” You asked, slipping your arms around his neck to keep him close. 

“Intuition.” He replied, and you closed your eyes as he pressed a delicate kiss to your chin, lingering there for a moment before speaking again. “I want this if you do, cyar’ika.” Din whispered against your skin. 

“Even with everything else going on?” You whispered, opening your eyes again when you felt his nose brush against yours. You wanted to believe that he wanted this baby with you, and the hint of excitement you spotted in his eyes made you think he did, but you needed to be sure. 

Din’s hand rubbed across your back as he nodded. “Despite everything going on.” His tone turned more serious as he put some distance between the two of you so he could stare into your eyes, removing your arms from his neck so he could take them in his own. “I swear, no matter what else comes our way, I vow to protect you and our child until my last breath.” 

His words, spoken with such conviction and assurance made tears sting behind your eyes. Warmth filled your whole body as you squeezed his hands tight, hoping your eyes were showing how much his vow meant to you. “Then let’s have a baby Din Djarin.”

#din djarin x reader #mandalorian x reader #din djarin x you #mandalorian x you #star wars imagine

[swan-of-sunrise]

Civil War (Chapter Six)

Summary: Bucky’s suspicious escape from the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre and the fallout surrounding it makes (Y/N) reevaluate her opinion of the Accords.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Last week’s chapter was really angsty and it kinda took a toll on me so here’s a sort of short filler chapter with slightly less angst! Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Six (Previous Chapter)

While she couldn’t claim to be a spy or secret agent, (Y/N) had picked up a thing or two from hanging around so many of them over the past couple of years; she knew that Bucky would eventually need an exit once he was finished tearing through everyone in the building, and it was a safe bet to assume that the skilled assassin would choose to fly himself out of there instead of travel on foot at the risk of being apprehended. She was quick to locate the building’s stairwell, hurrying up the steps as the emergency lights and alarms continued to blare; when she reached the top floor, she flung open the door and stepped out into the dark and deserted hallway.

“God, I hope this thing works…” Mumbling under her breath, (Y/N) fiddled with the dials of the walkie talkie until she could hear the indistinct chatter of voices, only letting out a sigh of relief when she finally heard the one she needed to speak to. “Agent Ross, this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I need backup on the-”

“(Y/L/N), what the hell are you doing?!”

“Your job, it would seem! I’m on the top floor and have reason to believe that-!”

Just then, a metallic hand came out of nowhere and ripped the walkie talkie from her hands, crushing it to pieces before tossing it aside. (Y/N) acted on instinct, rolling underneath Bucky’s outstretched arm and pulling a stun disc out of her pocket; landing upright, she chucked the stun disc at his metallic arm and took advantage of the assassin’s distraction to sweep his legs out from underneath him with one of her own.

“Your name is James Buchanan Barnes, and you were a Sergeant in the U.S. Army during World War II!” She shouted, keenly aware that the distraction would only last a few more seconds. “You were Steve Rogers’ best friend and a Howling Commando!” Hastily backing out of the way, she watched with widened eyes as he ripped the electrified stun disc off his arm and leapt to his feet. “Bucky, I don’t believe that you bombed the U.N. but you need to stop and remember who you are!”

Bucky’s face was blank and devoid of any emotion, a far cry from the frightened man in the containment cell. He stalked towards her and while she had just enough time to duck the first punch he threw her way, she couldn’t dodge the second; the force of his fist’s impact on her jaw sent her flying back and crashing to the ground, her wrist screaming in protest as she tried and failed to break her fall. While he strode down the hallway to where she was sprawled on the floor, she hurriedly ripped all the stun discs out of her pocket and began throwing them as she crawled backwards. He avoided each and every stun disc she threw, but it bought her enough time to pick herself up off the ground and side-step his next attack; before she could land a kick or punch, though, his metal hand shot out and grabbed her by the throat, lifting her easily into the air and slamming her hard against the wall.

(Y/N)’s hands came up to uselessly clutch at the metal fingers that were digging into her skin and her legs kicked out in desperation as she struggled for air; just as her vision was beginning to darken her eyes focused on the small tear in the sleeve of his shirt and the corner of a red star it barely revealed, and in desperation she cried out, “Sol…Soldat!”

The assassin froze, and (Y/N) watched as his hardened expression shifted into confusion. His metallic hand quickly loosened and she instantly crumpled to the floor, coughing and gasping for air, unable to move or even defend herself. Bucky’s heavy footsteps faded away and with a wheezing breath, she lifted her head in time to see Steve burst through the same stairwell door she’d come through moments before.

“(Y/N)!?” He hurried to her side and dropped down, his grease-smudged face filled with pure panic as he tugged her into his arms. “Oh God, you’re bleeding…!”

Steve’s free hand came up to touch her scratched jaw but she grabbed his wrist to halt his movement, ignoring how his brow furrowed in confusion as she whispered, “G-go, Steve…Bucky’s heading for…for the helipad…”

He firmly shook his head, blue eyes already set in determination. “No, baby, I’m not leaving you.”

“Bucky needs you!” (Y/N) insisted, suppressing her wince of pain as she stared up at him with a fiery resolve; sensing the conflict within the super-soldier, she released his wrist and gently rested her hand against his cheek with a sad smile. “Go.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Steve nodded and carefully eased her back onto the ground, giving her one final look before running down the hallway after the assassin; right before he turned the corner, she closed her eyes, unwilling to watch as the love of her life chased after the deadly assassin by himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the second time in two days, (Y/N) quietly sat and allowed herself to be patched up by a kindly paramedic. Not only did she still have a ruptured eardrum, she also had a large laceration along her jaw that required five stitches, a sprained wrist that was secured in a sturdy brace and a smattering of darkening finger-shaped bruises around her neck. Others weren’t as lucky as you were, she reminded herself, sadness washing over her as she thought of all the critically injured and dead CIA agents who’d also encountered the dangerous Winter Soldier during his rampage.

Once the paramedics finished treating her wounds, she made her way back to the control room and was immediately met by a sympathetic Natasha. “Here, I got you some tea with honey; it’ll help your throat feel better.” The spy handed her a warm to-go cup before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and leading her into the glass-walled conference room, where Tony was already seated and resting his bruised head in his hand. “Secretary Ross’s gonna be here in a few minutes, hot-shot, so please try to be on your best behavior no matter what he says to rile you up.”

(Y/N) merely nodded and took a sip of her tea, wincing in pain as she swallowed. The injuries to her throat didn’t stop her from speaking but her own conscious did; she was beginning to realize that no matter what she could say or do to convince them that Bucky was innocent, they’d never listen and even if they did, there was nothing they could do about it under the Sokovia Accords. So, she made the decision to bide her time and wait until the right moment to bring up her theory.

The three of them sat together in weary silence, the turmoil of the past two days seeming to catch up to them, until Secretary Ross barged into the conference room with his trademark sneer on his face. “You two wanna fill me in on what happened and why a civilian’s still sitting in the middle of a covert CIA control room?”

As if sensing (Y/N)’s simmering irritation, Natasha stood and moved to lean against the back of her chair, placing a calming hand on her shoulder as she replied, “Barnes escaped custody with the aid of the U.N. psychiatrist sent to evaluate him; they knocked out the power grid to the city and used it as a distraction, and (Y/N) here was already in the building for questioning. She’s one of the many who tried and failed to stop Barnes from leaving the building.”

“After taking (Y/L/N) out of commission, Barnes tried leaving in a chopper but ended up crashing it on the helipad; he, Rogers and Wilson are all missing in action.” Tony glanced over at (Y/N) before returning his gaze to the Secretary of State. “That’s all we’ve got.”

“I don’t suppose you have any idea where they are?”

“We will, GSG-9’s got the borders covered, and Recon’s flying 24/7. They’ll get a hit; we’ll handle it.”

Secretary Ross scoffed at the billionaire. “You don’t get it, Stark, it’s not yours to handle. It’s clear you can’t be objective, so I’m putting Special Ops on this.”

The spy’s hand on her shoulder flexed. “What happens when the shooting starts? What, do you kill Steve Rogers?”

“If we’re provoked,” (Y/N)’s eyes widened in horror and in her shock, she almost missed what Ross said next. “Barnes would’ve been eliminated in Romania if it wasn’t for Rogers; there are dead people who would be alive now. Feel free to check my math.”

Tony’s eyes flicked over to meet theirs, an uncomfortable look filling his gaze as he turned back to Ross. “All due respect, you’re not going to solve this with boys and bullets, Ross. You gotta let us bring them in.”

“How would that end any differently from the last time?” The Secretary of State demanded.

The billionaire’s expression hardened at Ross’ silent implications. “Because this time, I won’t be wearing loafers and a silk shirt. Seventy-two hours, guaranteed.”

“Thirty-six hours,” Ross corrected, giving them all a pointed look before turning and walking out of the conference room, calling out over his shoulder, “Barnes…Rogers…Wilson…”

“Thank you, sir!” The glass door closed and Tony slumped in his seat with an exhausted sigh as he clutched his left arm. “My left arm is numb, is that normal?”

Moving around the table, Natasha patted the billionaire on his shoulder. “You all right?”

The two Avengers continued to talk in low tones but (Y/N) couldn’t focus on what they were saying; all she could think of were Secretary Ross’ cold-blooded words and the way he’d said them without so much as a hint of remorse. What horrified her more, though, was the fact that Tony and Natasha didn’t appear to be bothered by the threat against the lives of their former teammates. This is all wrong, she thought as her vision began to blur with unshed tears, her heart sinking into her stomach while she realized that Steve’s worst fears about the Accords were materializing right before her very eyes; blinking away her tears, she looked down at her now-bare ring finger and the longer she stared, the more her anger with the two Avengers grew.

“…head downstairs to talk to T’Challa. I’ll bring (Y/N) with me, since he seems to tolerate her more than the rest of us.”

“Before you do, though, she’s gonna need to sign the Accords; I don’t want Ross looking for any excuses to arrest her so we need to do this by the books.” She looked back up as Tony and Natasha turned to her, the billionaire’s brow raised in expectation while he continued. “That okay with you, Austen?”

(Y/N) was silent for a long moment and when she finally spoke, it was with a forced calmness and a clenched jaw. “Did I ever tell you two what my new novel Bring A Folding Chair is about? It chronicles the rise and fall of second-wave feminism in America as told through the eyes of a young investigative journalist.” Getting up from her seat, she crossed her arms over her chest and began pacing. “I focus on the successes of the movement while also highlighting its failures and shortcomings, because even the most well-intended things can inadvertently end up hurting others.” (Y/N) shook her head in agitation and glanced over at the two confused Avengers. “When it came to the Accords, I knew from the moment Secretary Ross told us about them that they were wrong, but I turned a willful blind eye to the truth because I was selfish and only cared about saving my relationship with Steve. But now…now my eyes are wide open.”

“(Y/N), take it easy-”

“Do not tell me to take it easy when you just sat there and listened to Ross practically order a hit on three people – two of which are your friends – who haven’t been legally convicted of any wrongdoing!” She yelled as her sore throat ached in protest but she ignored it, all the frustration and pain that had been building up inside of her finally boiling over. “Steve was right when he said I was too idealistic; I thought the world was made up of enough good people who would keep the Accords from becoming too authoritative but unfortunately, it’s made up of cowards like us who are only looking out for our own self-interests.” Her gaze shifted from Tony’s stunned expression to Natasha, whose face remained neutral but whose eyes conveyed the pain her words had caused; she swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded before continuing. “Well, I don’t know about you two but I can’t do it anymore.”

Without another word, (Y/N) stormed out into the control room and down one of the hallways to Agent Ross’ office, her uninjured hand curled into a fist at her side as she walked; the door of the agent’s office was open and he was in deep conversation with Sharon Carter, who was tapping away on a tablet while they talked. They both looked over at her as she entered the office, and Agent Ross’ brow furrowed in concern while he took in her injuries and stony expression. “Miss (Y/L/N). Agent 13 told me that you got roughed up pretty badly earlier; are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Agent Ross. Am I free to go?” The agent raised his brow, looking more amused that surprised by her demanding question, and she gritted her teeth before continuing. “In the past forty-eight hours I’ve attended a friend’s funeral, was nearly blown up in a suspected terrorist attack, was unjustly interrogated for several continuous hours, broke off my engagement to the love of my life and was nearly killed again by a brainwashed assassin. I’m filthy, I’m injured, I’m exhausted, and I’m just one more incident away from completely losing my shit so can I please leave now?”

Sharon cast her a fleeting glance and took a step forward. “Sir, she’s already given multiple statements to our agents and…well, to be frank, the Joint Terrorism Task Force is already facing scrutiny for not stopping Barnes’ escape. The criticism will only intensify when the news outlets catch wind that we’re holding an injured, world-famous author without probable cause.” Agent Ross considered her words, and Sharon shot her a warning glance before continuing. “I’ll drive her to a nearby hotel and keep an eye on her in case Rogers tries getting into contact; based on the events of the last few hours, though, I’m not so sure that he will.”

“All right,” He finally answered, his expression softening a little as he looked back at her. “But for the time being, Miss (Y/L/N), consider yourself on the no-fly list.”

Nodding in thanks, (Y/N) glanced back at Sharon and the agent gave her a brief smile. “I’ve got a few things to wrap up here so I’ll meet you down in the parking garage in ten.” She reached into her pockets and withdrew her car keys, pressing them into her open palm with another fleeting smile. “My car’s the grey Audi parked by the stairwell.”

(Y/N) walked out of the office and down the hallway but since the mechanics were still working on fixing the elevators after the power-outage, she was forced to take the stairs all the way down to the underground parking garage. She quickly located the agent’s car and unlocked it, climbing into the passenger seat and buckling her seat-belt; now that she was finally alone, she couldn’t stop herself as she lowered her head into her hands and cried, allowing all the pent-up emotions inside of her to finally be set free. In that moment, all she wanted to do was go back to when everything was normal, back before Lagos and her constant fighting with Steve and the goddamn Accords; it wasn’t perfect, of course, but it was a hundred times better than what they were all currently going through. “I’m so sorry, Steve…”

As her sobs finally began to subside, the stairwell door opened and Sharon walked through the doorway; she took a steadying breath and wiped the last of her tears away just as the agent opened the driver-side door and got it. Sharon reached over and opened the glove-box to reveal a package of tissues, flashing her a brief and sympathetic smile as she pulled one out and blew her nose. “I tend to start feeling better after I’ve had a good cry. How ‘bout you?”

“Not really, I still feel like shit except now my eyes itch and my nose is running,” (Y/N) half-heartedly quipped, dabbing at the corners of her eyes and sighing. “So, you know any good hotels around here?”

“The Kurhotel Strӧszek’s nice and it’s not too far from here, so that’ll make Agent Ross happy. On our way, we’ll stop at a pharmacy and pick you up some first aid sup-” The ringing of Sharon’s cell phone interrupted her words and she was quick to answer it. “Agent 13 here…Steve?” (Y/N) instantly perked up and with a brief gesture for her to stay quiet, the agent switched to speakerphone. “Okay, I’m alone. What’s up?”

“We’ve figured out what’s going on,” Steve’s voice answered through the phone’s speaker and (Y/N) bit her lip to keep from making a sound at the comforting timbre. “The doctor framed Bucky for the U.N. bombing in order to find out where Hydra kept him. They created five other Winter Soldiers back in the 90’s and had them cryogenically frozen; he’s planning on waking them, says he’s doing it to see an empire fall.”

“So, you three need your gear before you can go after him.”

The super-soldier sighed. “I know that it’s a lot to ask, Sharon-”

“You’re trying to stop a squad of murderous super-soldiers from taking over the world, Rogers; if this is how I can help stop that from happening, then I’m in. I’ll send you a message when I’ve got the gear and we’ll arrange a meeting.”

“Thank you, Sharon, I owe you one. How…how’s (Y/N) doing?”

“She’s okay; lacerated jaw, sprained wrist and a whole lot of bruising, but she’s fine.” Steve breathed a deep sigh of relief that made (Y/N)’s heart warm and the agent gave her a sideways glance before continuing. “You should know that she’s refused to sign the Accords. I’ve been assigned to escort her to a hotel, where she’ll stay until she’s taken off the CIA’s no-fly list and can go back home…”

There was silence over the line and just as she began wondering if they’d somehow been disconnected, Steve quietly spoke, “I’ve already asked you for one favor but can I bother you for another?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“If I write a letter, can you make sure that it gets to (Y/N)? There’s a lot that I need to tell her and since I don’t know what’ll happen where we’re going…well, she deserves answers one way or another.”

Sharon’s eyes flicked between (Y/N)’s saddened expression and the cell phone in her hand as she nodded. “Of course, I’ll pick it up when I hand over your gear. Talk to you later, Rogers.”

Hanging up, the agent tucked the phone into her pocket and quickly started the engine, buckling up and driving at a steady speed through the parking garage and out onto the street; (Y/N) fiddled with the hem of her wrinkled shirt for a thought-filled moment before stating, “You’ve already got a plan.”

“Let’s just say that I’ve been prepared to follow through on a favor like this one for a while now,” Sharon spared her a sideways glance and focused back on the road. “But I won’t say anything else about it on the off-chance the CIA decides to question you somewhere down the line; the last thing I want is for you to be charged with aiding and abetting in the theft of government property.”

(Y/N) glanced down at her bare ring finger and thought back on Steve’s words during his phone call; she was desperate to find out what was in the letter but at the same time, she knew in her heart that she needed to hear whatever it was directly from him. The thought reminded her of their conversation about the problems within their relationship in the London hotel’s bar, the last truly calm moment they’d shared before everything went sideways…

“Whatever it is, we can work through it together. We make a damn good team, after all.”

“Of course we do, sunshine.”

There’s something I have to do before Steve and the others go after those super-soldiers, (Y/N) thought to herself, her shoulders squared in determination as she turned to glance at Sharon beside her and pondered the best way to ask the spy for a third and final favor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Russian Translation: Soldat-Soldier

A/N: Next chapter will have even less angst so yay! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist:  https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4TsJ2TY1F2HDXhEYOfzCjY?si=b1abdaeccc4c4d21

Chapter Seven

Civil War Masterlist

Tagging: @mrs-obrien​​​​​ @lahoete​​​​​ @awkward117​ @cminr​​​​​ @natdrunk​​​​​​ @momc95​​​​​ @savedbystyle​​​​​ @miraculouscloud​ @awkwardnesshabitat​​​​​ @marinettepotterandplagg​​​​​ @khuang3​​​​​ @supersouthy​​​​​ @benakenalove​​​​​ @brooke0297​​​​​ @hufflepeople​​​​​ @becausewelie​​​​​​ @outoftheregular​​​​​ @supreme-tantrum​​​​​ @ladydmalfoy​​​​​ @mads-weasley​​​​​ @username23345​​​​​ @crist1216​​​​​ @aesthethickks​​

#stumblin' in #civil war #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers #captain america #natasha romanoff #black widow #sam wilson #falcon #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #tony stark #iron man #thaddeus ross #everett ross #agent ross #sharon carter #agent 13 #marvel cinematic universe