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oneoftheprettynerds · 3 years

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Just My Type: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 2 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series.

Chapter 1: Welcome to the Darkside

Main Masterlist

A/N: This chapter is 2K words more than the last chapter and I’ve second guessed every single line in this one. This story is getting a lot of traction guys and I’m equal parts happy and scared. Thank you for the nice comments, they do encourage me. Also I’m just ranting feel free to skip this note haha. Your support in any form: like, comment or reblog is appreciated greatly. Also you can dm if you want to be friends, God knows I need those. Hopefully, this chap was worth the wait. Also, I made a poster for this on the main masterlist so check that out, it might be foreshadowing dome plot.

Warning: Eventual Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, a mild mental breakdown, Cheap Tricks later.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can't ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can't get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Chapter 2: Just My Type

It had almost been a week since the incident and you had barely gotten a wink of sleep. When you drove back to your house that night, Steve surprisingly didn’t argue as you had expected. After that friend of his whispered something in his ears, you only assumed he was needed elsewhere and you couldn’t be more thankful for that. They escorted you to your car and Steve thanked you with a strained smile, words genuine but eyes calculating. You didn’t even wonder what went inside his head. You were thankful for the peace and quiet of your own car, content to just get out of the area and into your humble abode.

After you put the already asleep Grace to bed, you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of her room. You just sat on the floor beside the bed, hand intertwined with hers as you rested your head beside her tummy on the mattress.

Your adrenaline wore off and your limbs ached as your thoughts finally settled into place, the gravity of the catastrophe a few hours prior hitting you. Tears made their way down your cheeks as you realized that you both could have very well died tonight.

One bullet could have sealed each of your lives and you were basically defenseless had Steve not saved you against the creeping assaulter. You couldn’t commend yourself for even defending yourself against one attacker, the guilt of killing someone harboring in your tired head. Your quiet whimpers eventually wore you out, while Grace’s shallow breaths lulled you to sleep.

You didn’t manage to sleep for long though, every time your eyes closed, horrific images flashed in your mind. A blood curdling scream here, heaps of dead bodies there, with distant exploding sounds all around. You could see men clad in black holding guns to Grace’s head and whensoever you woke up, you just wondered how much more creative your mind could get, making these visuals so realistic.

When 8 AM rolled in, you didn’t wake Grace up even though it was Monday and you had work. You got up, changed into a long tee after a shower and called your office and then her daycare. You knew you would have a hard time going back to your normal life, to become trusting enough to leave her alone.

Your assumption about yourself was right. You took almost the entire week off, which your boss generously allowed you to after hearing your traumatic experience, which soon made the city news headlines. All your colleagues checked on you, almost once in the five day break you took, and sweetly enough offered to bring you anything you needed.

It was kind of them, but none of them could bring you what your heart genuinely craved: peace and assurance that you and Grace would be safe.

Even though Saturdays were off, you did go to work to see what you missed and where to start on again. You went in because you knew that the random spurt of resolution you got in the bathroom to collect your life, wouldn’t last.

To ease back into your normal life, you gathered your guts, called a babysitter and left home. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave Grace at the daycare just yet. One of your good friends offered to come in to the office and help you, even on the weekend and you were quite grateful to him.

When you both decided to take lunch in the nearby dining place, you both got to talking, the conversation obviously originating from ‘How have you been?’ and ‘Is Grace okay?’. You reminisced about how you used a photobooth to hide, grotesquely and uncomfortably chuckling when you remembered Sarah calling you her mom and how her dad saved you all.

You deliberately left the part where you killed someone and Steve shot someone too. You hadn’t come to terms with it yet and you stiffly restricted your mind whenever it tried to go down that lane.

He sensed how the conversation was becoming tense and distressing for you and briskly redirected the topic.

“I hope the dad was hot though?” He wiggled his eyes creepily and you snorted at his vulgarity, light for the first time in days.

“He was easy on the eyes; I will admit that.” You played along, recalling your girlfriends and how you used to ogle people.

“Don’t be a homewrecker though, I don’t support cheating.” He said nonchalantly, checking his phone as a notification bell rang off.

“He’s a widower.”

His eyes snapped up and met yours as his head tilted in confusion. “That’s a strange fact to know about someone you met for a few minutes.”

Steve’s even stranger comment about his dead wife popped in your mind and before you could stop yourself, you blurted that out as well.

“He even said and I quote, ‘She deserved what she got.’” He put his phone down, weirdly amused.

“Ooh Creepy! Do you think he is one of those husbands who kill their wives and bury them in the backyard? The podcasts always say that the psychopaths are visually handsome and charming. And his statement was quite vague and spooky.” He continued munching, and you felt that now Aiden was really paying attention unlike before.

“Steve did have a gun while searching for Sarah, come to think of it.” You drank your tea and awaited his response. What you did not expect was his eyes to widen and worry to cloud his features.

“Um Widower Steve with a toddler Sarah? At the place where The Vices attacked?” He mumbled, grabbing his phone and doing God knows what on it. Your eyebrows furrowed and before you could ask him what was up with his antics, he resumed.

“This is a long shot but I really hope your Steve didn’t look like this.” He positioned the phone in your vision, and you could already tell it was Steve by the sapphire blue of his eyes piercing through the screen into your soul. The picture was a month or two old, his hair was much longer when you met him than in the photo.

“This is him.” Your eyes met Aiden’s and worry visibly took over his features as his forehead creased and jaw tense.

He looked around the restaurant, finding it empty in the afternoon. He leaned and whispered, “This Steve of yours is dangerous.”

You interrupted Aiden, even though you already knew Steve was, the sight of his armed men still fresh in your head, and inquired, “Why do you say so?”

“It’s just like the fictional stories we hear from our parents, except here, in this city of ours, every myth holds true. There are really powerful men, untouchable by law, who reign the city silently and live luxuriously. Every shady, under the table deal you’ve heard of, transpires. Illegal trades, fraud schemes and bounty hunters are not fictional, they exist here. These men kill whatever hinders them and trust me, you don’t want to be the deer caught in their Jaguar’s headlights.”

Ice froze in your veins again, resembling the fear you felt that night but now because of your deemed ‘savior’. You convinced yourself that you had not wronged him in any way, instead had saved his daughter’s life.

“Are you in contact with him? If you are, distance yourself cleverly, don't block him immediately.”

“No, we just parted ways near my car, he thanked me for Sarah and was called away. It’s almost been a week and he hasn’t reached out if that’s what you mean. We didn’t exchange contacts and I don’t think I even told him my full name.” You explained yourself as if you were on the witness stand in court, trying to convince yourself more than Aiden.

“Pray that he doesn’t remember you more than that, if at all. I’m being totally honest here in telling you this, I’m genuinely worried for you and Grace. You are smart but he is powerful. He has unimaginable resources and if you become more than a speck of dust on his windshield, you are screwed. There is no exaggeration here.” You took his words to your heart and swore to be careful, if not for yourself then for Grace.

The rest of the day went by and you found yourself dwelling on and worrying about Aiden’s words. At least he put it out there as it was. Heeding his advice, you did google Steve on your phone, finally finding him in the topmost news headline when you added ‘Buck’ in the search bar as well.

‘With 38 lawsuits pending against businessman Steve Rogers, the filers have lost all hope in prosecuting him. All cases are being drawn out for indefinite periods of time by the Chief Justice Bruce……’

Aiden was right.

Businessmen was code for illegal mob heads. Cases being stretched on meant he was, in fact, invincible, at least to the common man’s fists.

You flickered through several titles, each one more surprising than the last. He was believed to be involved in the carnival attack, alleged for three hit and run cases that he didn’t lose but the witnesses swore they saw him driving and was also rumored to have brought in quintals of drugs just last week, but the packets just evaporated into thin air and there was no proof of their existence in the first place even on incessant searching.

Every crime of his made you shudder and you mentally thanked Aiden for pulling you out of your oblivion. Your mind raced and heart palpated and you cursed yourself for being so drastically unaware even after living here for almost four years. Technically speaking, Steve and you were even, him saving your life and you saving his daughter’s. No logical reason came to your mind for him contacting you ever.

You wished as Aiden said and assured yourself that your paths would never cross again, Steve not having reached out in a week, so hopefully never again.

That thought went out the window when you reached home to find a box awaiting you. Hannah, the babysitter you had called, informed you it came around 5 in the evening and was exclusively to be opened by you today.

Your mind raced as you paid the babysitter, your hands sweaty as you tried not to think about the gift and its sender. There was an apparently clear answer to who mailed it but you refused to accept that, courtesy of Aiden.

The box was of the height of Grace, it was black with red hearts painted across it; some red roses also sparingly adorned it. You opened the lid and found tons of red tissues and a multi-flower bouquet adorned with mostly red roses and a few purple and pink flowers.

Because of your frequent gardening in your backyard, you knew all the flowers’ meanings. To sum it all up, red flowers, especially roses were used for courting someone. Pink meant admiration, purple for beauty and you knew the ‘violet’ flowers were for loyalty.

As your nerves increased tenfold, you willed yourself to get it over with and empty out the box first, ignoring the little card in your bouquet, saving the ‘best’ for last. You find a mini bouquet inside but unlike yours, it had chocolates of every kind. You did read its card and cringed when it was for Grace, bothered not by the deed but by the doer.

Further inside were some animal plushies, face masks, perfumes, scented body lotions and shampoos. Your head hurt thinking about the ‘single mother care package’ delivered to you by someone you refused to acknowledge.

As Grace sat in her playpen occupied, you dared to pick your card and read its message, your heart beating unrealistically fast for someone who refused to accept the cruciality of her situation.

I can’t thank you enough in this lifetime for saving my little princess. The gift of your help is more than anything money could ever buy for me. Please accept this invitation of mine for dinner tomorrow night, 7PM at La Bonne Nuit, as a symbol of my sincere gratitude for everything you’ve done. I’ll gets the kids covered and pick you up, you just be ready and look as amazing you always do. Sincerely, Steve Rogers

You stilled as you read it over and over again.

An invitation, your ass. Even in writing his authority portrayed, there was no question and hope for you coming, he just stated that you’d come. Looking pretty as always? You just met him once, in the middle of a calamity, covered in dirt and blood.

All the red roses and gifts screamed his romantic interest but you illusioned yourself into thinking they meant gratitude. You wouldn’t be able to digest it all otherwise.

Knowing what you knew now about Steve, you understood there was no denying the dinner tomorrow. You had to get out of his clutches and distance yourself, but as Aiden had so rightfully said, cleverly.

That night you laid in bed mulling over your next course of actions. You had called the gift shop to return the unwarranted presents you received but they said it was non refundable and anonymous to trace. You bitterly snorted in their face, they put a card with Steve’s name on it for heaven’s sake!

You didn’t flinch even when you realized you never gave Steve your address, neither for mailing stuff nor for picking you up. There was no number given to call him and thank or to call him and deny. The bastard had planned it all out, and you felt like you were driving in a one way lane, going deeper into the tunnel. Somewhere among your all-relentless fretting, you managed to finally sleep.

When the doorbell rang, your eyebrows furrowed. It was just 6 PM and you weren’t expecting anybody else except for Steve. You had already begun getting ready, having developed a habit of keeping an extra margin of time now having a toddler. You still had to assemble Grace’s essential backpack, fill it with her meds and bottles.

While still putting on your diamond earring, you made your way to the door, unlocking it to find a redhead grinning at you. Before you could interact with her, a small body clung to your legs and you looked down to find the azure eyed kid that put you in this mess, Sarah, smiling up at you.

“Mama! You look pwetty!” She looked up in awe and now aware that she didn’t have a mother, you were even more so coerced into accepting this title rather than telling the kid that 'you are semi orphaned'.

“I’m Wanda, Sarah’s nanny. Mr. Rogers told me to pick her friend, Grace, up for the night?” So, this was what Steve meant. Bringing Sarah was proof enough of her legitimacy, but behind her you saw ‘Buck’ salute you from the driver’s seat of the black car. One of these days, you needed to learn his real name.

You invited Wanda inside and Sarah ran to Grace immediately, grabbing and whining while asking Grace to give her some popcorn she was munching on, her fist generously full.

In your open plan kitchen, you grabbed two plastic bowls, filled them with each with the tub of popcorn that sat in the microwave and handed each toddler one, fortunately quietening Sarah. Sarah obeyed Grace, in first thanking you, their ‘mama’ and then following her to her open playpen.

You faced Wanda again who sat on a barstool and kept on beaming. If your annoyance at her amusement showed, she sure didn’t let it falter the smile.

“Mr. Rogers told me you’d worry about your daughter, but I assure you she’d be in more than capable hands.” All you could focus on was how self-reassured she was. “I’ve served him for almost two years, the last family I served, I was there for 8 years and before them, I was employed for 3. I know the general bedtime and snacks, all I need from you is information about her allergies.”

You nodded and told her about Grace, her meds and what all you packed. When you got to know that her family owned the daycare Grace went to, you were finally somewhat convinced. After seeing them off, it was about fifteen minutes later, that the devil disguised in Prada showed up at your door.

You grabbed your purse and your keys. Wiping your sweaty palms on your dress, you opened the door. Steve stood there, a smirk lodging on his handsome face. His blue, three-piece suit perfectly paired with his cerulean eyes was impressive to say the least.

He was dressed to kill, and it appeared as if you were his first victim.

As your eyes took him in from top to bottom, his did the same lazily, taking their time, resting at certain places for longer period than others.

“You look stunning.”

You knew you did. You wore one of your more expensive dresses when you found out La Bonne Nuit to be one of the few seven-star hotels in the country. In hindsight, if you’d have dressed worse, maybe he’d have left you alone.

“Thank you.”

“Shall we?” He offered you his hand and you obliged with your palm in his. Your other hand pulled the doorknob while you stepped out, all alarms already set-in place. He waited while you locked and put the keys in and when you were done, with a soft kiss along your knuckles, he pulled you along.

The act surprised you, your stomach turning and your gut wrenching and you wondered if you’d be able to process the food after all, with your upset digestive system.

Like a proper gentleman, he opened the door for you and when you settled, he took his position at the driver’s seat. The silence was painful for you, your overthinking finally filling ideas in your head that you avoided contemplating about all day, focusing on Grace.

He was relaxed though; his humming was proof enough.

Mid way through, your thoughts were rudely interrupted when a hand housed itself on your knee. You glanced to find Steve’s palm slightly rubbing your knee. If it was meant to be assuring, you certainly didn’t feel like it.

You frowned and looked up to Steve who still had the arrogant smirk on his face, eyes straight ahead on the road, giving no indication of his inappropriate touching.

You wanted to swat his hand away but a brainwave dashed through your head and a disturbing thought made you halt, that whether he carried guns to restaurants as well, since carnivals were no big deal.

You ignored his hand and continued looking outside, pretending to ignore it as well as he did. Your scowl was a huge giveaway though.

You didn’t know that, but when your eyes found their way out, his finally rested on your face, the smirk growing even more.

Thankfully, apart from the incongruous touching, the dinner went okay-ish. The food and wine were impeccable, perfect even, the restaurant on the hotel’s top floors was so picturesque. You tried to savor your one-time experience there, knowing you’d no way be able to come back there.

Well, you tried to relish as much as you could while your mind still sat there, wary of the human in front of you. If you’d ignore your journey here, Steve was nothing short of a true gentleman, often making you wonder if you had imagined his hand on you.

This ‘friendly’ date you were having was probably one of the best you have had, he had left no expenses. He appeared to be interested in your work, about your childhood and about Grace’s but you swiftly avoided his questions about her father. He was growing a tad bit too comfortable for your liking and you still refused to entertain the idea that this was a ‘date’ date.

When you were finally onto dessert, the last course of your meal, your table was shadowed by the broad frame of a brunette and his date. He clapped Steve’s shoulder and Steve rose to hug him, you awkwardly smiled.

“It’s been far too long since you’ve been here, Cap. Why don’t you and your gorgeous date stop by my penthouse for a bit? We could finally go over the papers you sent me, in person?” He winked, they discussed something more and then went away, his date bowing and trailing after him as well.

Steve claimed his seat again, and finally told you about the interrupter. “That was my good friend, Tony Stark, always in a hurry. I’ll introduce you to him when we meet him later.”

“I think I’ll be heading home; you need not worry about my introduction, I hardly think we’ll ever run into each other again.” His eyes narrowed and you clarified, “Me and Mr. Stark, I meant.”

That’s good, don’t associate yourself with more of his kind.

“He was so kind in inviting you though, it would be rude to refuse.”

“It’s already late, Steve. And I’ve never left Grace alone for a night yet. What if she’s antsy? What if she is bothered? What if she feels unsafe? She's only used to very few people, and after last week, I-” You had started the sentence hoping to use Grace as an excuse but every word of yours succeeded in making you more apprehensive.

The carnival night flashed in your mind, along with the nightmares and you started panicking even more. Your hands clammy, your dessert spoon fell in your lap as sought your phone in your purse, hoping to call Wanda for an update. You felt like a terrible mother, who left her child with a stranger, only a week after she suffered trauma, just to go on a date with a mobster.

Steve reached across the table and grabbed your fidgety hands and as you wriggled to get your hands free, he softly called your name. Voice stern but vocals gentle. Your blurry eyes snapped to meet his while he guided you to breathe deeply, in and out.

His firm hold convinced you to listen to him, you’d never free yourself of them otherwise.

When you had calmed a bit, he withdrew his hands and fetched his phone. Your thoughts slowed down, and you wondered if anyone here was judging you. Your little scene, mercifully, went unnoticed by the other affluent people dining here.

Steve handed you his phone where four colored frames rested, the screen showing you Grace and Sarah cuddled in a frilly, pink four poster where Wanda sat too, her lips moving.

The feed was live and the screen muted, both the toddlers’ eyes fluttering close slowly, on the bridge of sleep.

You handed the phone back to Steve and drank your water while he rubbed circles on the back of one of your hands. You never freaked out like you did right now, always collected and never giving into anxiety. What had happened to you?

Well, In your defense, you had never experienced a disaster either.

“The kids are safe; I’m never putting either of them in harm’s way ever again.”

Your mind did catch the plural in his statement but you promised yourself you would not let it get that far and continued drinking your water, emptying the entire glass.

“The HD image you just saw was by cameras Tony recently developed. His technology is amazing, I’ll take you to his lab sometime.” You appreciated his attempt to redirect the topic but you also focused on how tech-savvy his friends were as well.

You hummed and agreed, trying to be ambiguous with your answer.

When you finished your dessert, you hoped he’d forget about his ‘friend’ Tony but to no avail.

“His penthouse is two floors above. He owns this hotel as well in case you didn’t notice.” He led you to the elevator as you recalled the Starks Group logo you saw earlier sometime.

Some AI named Jarvis opened the elevator doors for you in the living room of Tony’s penthouse. It was even more magnificent than the restaurant earlier, the place illuminated by several hues of different colours. Steve chuckled and strung you along, introducing you to a ginger-head named Pepper, who was Tony’s date earlier and went to search for his acquaintance.

She offered you wine but you politely declined, opting for water instead. She brought your glass to you from the extravagant kitchen and you both sat on the barstool there instead of the living room. Too anxious to say the wrong thing, you stayed quiet until her voice filled the deafening silence.

“So, Steve almost never brings dates around. You two serious?” She questioned, leaning towards you, waiting for some gossip, no doubt.

“Oh no! We aren’t dating. He just invited me for a friendly dinner. We merely met the other week.” You deliberately left out the part where there was bombing by crime families and attack on the common man.

“Honey, in the mob life, you don’t just introduce random people to the fam.”

Oh, she wasn’t being shy about the whole mob ordeal. It seemed weird to hear it from her, since you and Steve hadn’t used the word yet. Maybe he figured you already knew considering the circumstances you met in or how famous he was.

“We really aren’t romantically involved. This dinner was just a gesture of gratitude if I’m being truthful.”

She chuckled, as if you were a kid making stories and quizzed, “Gratitude for what?”

You trapped yourself into that one. You didn’t know how to answer her and your brain downright blanked. Surprisingly,, Steve came to your rescue and two voices interposed your conversation.

Steve called your name and as you turned to the men, he continued, “She’s the one who saved Sarah the other night. You know the story, Wilson probably got it printed.”

“Impressive, really. Hey, I’m Tony and I see you’ve already met Pepper, my fiancée.” He shook your hand and kissed your knuckles, much like Steve did earlier in the day. You bowed, smiled and mumbled a ‘nice to meet you as well’. They escorted you to the elevator and Tony continued.

“Well, it’s not everyday Steve brings brave and extraordinarily attractive women around. Welcome to the family, sweetie. She’s a keeper, Cap.” He winked while saying the last sentence and before you could correct him, Steve ushered you inside the elevator, bro-hugging him. As the doors closed, Pepper winked at you from behind Tony and a shudder ran through you.

Okay you had to make it clear, get on the same page.

As the elevator music filled the silence, you started, “Steve, look we aren’t-”, “I served in the army, that’s why Tony calls me Cap, short for captain.” And crudely got interrupted.

“I never wanted to get into the army, I thought people were fools to sacrifice the one life they got. But I went to make my mother’s dream a reality, I really loved her, you know? Sarah is named after her, my mother.”

His voice broke at the end and as much as you wanted to redirect onto your former topic, you couldn’t. This amiability of yours would be the death of you.

“She died alone in her bed; I was dispatched too far away to even make it back for her funeral.” He mumbled but you heard him clear as a sunny day, and he leaned back onto the wall for support while you awkwardly rubbed his shoulder to return the support he provided earlier during your mental breakdown.

He closed his eyes and gathered himself, taking deep breaths. As the elevator dinged, his eyes opened and he gave you a strained smile.

The car ride to his mansion was painfully silent, his mind too sidetracked to focus on harassing you again. With all that you went through today, you almost forgot about that.

His mansion was enormous, twenty guards stood outside and even more patrolled the lawn. He took you inside his house, the interior even more detailed and scenic than Tony’s temporary residence.

You just concentrated on swiftly getting Grace and Uber-ing back. As Steve showed you earlier, Grace and Sarah hugged and slept and it was a meticulous task to untangle their limbs without waking either of them up andnd get Grace with her back-pack. You thanked Wanda on the way out, hoping to avoid Steve but somehow he stood outside before you, leaning on his sleek black car. He opened the door for you before you could refuse the ride. You settled with Grace in the backseat itself, trying to be smart.

He just summoned one of his guards to drive and sat alongside you in the back. You didn’t let the annoyance at his clinginess show though. You just focused on Grace who drooled over your shoulder.

Hopefully, there won’t be any point of exposure to him ever again, your circles didn’t match, both social and professional. Your Venn diagrams didn’t overlap anywhere. This should be reason enough to avoid meeting ever again.

He didn’t try anything even this ride around. You doubted it was hardly because of the toddler or because of the driver. He did as he pleased, if he wanted to he could very well grope you. Luckily, he wasn't in the mood.

When you reached your dwelling, you stepped out hastily, thanking him in a whisper. You fumbled to get your keys out, but since everything you held slowed you down, he caught up with you without even trying.

He took and held Grace’s bag while you drew the keys out, Grace still on your hip. He handed you the bag back, “So this is it, I guess?”

“Yeah, tonight was a total delight. Thanks for the dinner and everything, really.” You put up your best façade, hoping to convince him.

“It was, thanks to you. The company matters the most.”

You awkwardly chuckled and you sensed him leaning in, his eyes flickering shut. Your eyes closed as you turned your head to avoid him, so that his lips would peck your cheek.

They never came.

Your eyes opened to find his and he chuckled, leaning in once again swiftly, catching you off guard this time. He didn’t meet your lips though, he kissed the corner of your mouth, lips overlapping for a fraction of skin.

“In due time, baby.” He stepped back and strolled to his car leisurely, content in his own world.

You opened your door and slammed it shut, the peck feeling wrong on so many levels. It felt more sensual than a lover’s kiss, leaving room for intimacy and longing.

Your thoughts ran a hundred kilometers an hour, the most absurd but nauseatingly true being, this was a date and it was not your last encounter.

Steve smirked outside in his car, the dinner an absolute success in his opinion. Tonight just made him feel that you both were more than compatible for each other. You needing him during your mental breakdown, him relaxing under your shy touch, Tony’s approval, not that important though, and your anxiety for Grace was the best part, because he, more often than he’d like to admit, fussed about Sarah the same way, agonizing and fretting her well being.

A text lit up his black screen and his grin widened even more if possible.

‘The Stark cameras are up and working, Sir.’

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forestlingincorporated · 3 years

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Teen Titans #29

So, one of my favorite types of fics to read is Different First Meeting fics between Jason and Tim. I looooove reading Enemies To Caretaker, of which I fed handsomely on fairly recently. Big Brother Jason fics give me warm fuzzies, and Tim Drake needs a hug, and I feel like if these two actually got to know each other and worked past their preconceptions, they’d get along surprisingly well. And Still A Jason!Robin Fanboy Tim Drake is just a fun concept.

Also, it just FEELS right for the middle siblings to band together after Damian comes along, lets get those abandonment issues in the party.

So, for mysterious and very secret TimKon Week 2021 reasons, I was rereading some Teen Titans, and I stumbled over the Original Tim+Jason First Meeting, and I just sort of wanted to talk about some interesting things I found in there rereading it after several years.

First thing right off the bat, when reading fics, normally it’s either the Core Four at the tower that Jason puts to sleep, or it’s Tim alone for the night. In the comic, none of Tim’s close friends are even at the tower, Jason waits for Bart and Cassie to leave, and Conner actually hasn’t come around for an in-universe month, because this is after the Superboy’s Birthright arc where Lex mind controls Conner.

The people Jason knocks out were his own teammates when he was a Titan. He specifically says he never got to work with Beast Boy or Cyborg directly, so he doesn’t feel bad electrocuting them, but he feels bad putting Raven under much more gently because she used to worry for him.

Tim has just gotten off the phone with Bruce when Jason shows up. It seems like Bruce might’ve been picking Tim up, but something’s come up with Martian Manhunter going missing, so Tim tells him he’ll catch a ride with Cyborg.

This is actually really interesting to me, because it’s a small moment of Bruce letting Tim down. It’s a conversation he’s probably had with his biological father many times when Jack’s canceled on him.

Gonna acknowledge this abomination real quick. This is So Stupid, and I’m glad as a fandom we just all agreed Jason didn’t do this. It makes me ask so many questions. Where did he get that oversized Robin costume? Why’d he tear off his perfectly good clothes? Why did he do this? Why the yellow tights? WHY?

A lot of things are actually happening here that are actually Really Interesting if you just look past the stupid fucking outfit. Because this comic actually flew really close to greatness, they just ended up dropping the ball by not continuing to do more with it.

First off, Jason doesn’t beat around the bush. He’s immediately like “yeah, yeah, yeah, Red Hood, whatever, I’m Jason Todd, bitch! Fight me.”

Secondly, Jason’s done his homework. He knows A LOT about Tim. He knows his name, he knows he has a dad, he knows he went to prep school, and he knows the story of how Tim became Robin. How he GOT that last bit of information, I’d honestly like to know. But even HAVING the information isn’t enough; he’s still letting his preconceived ideas get in the way. The surface level information about Tim’s life only served to fuel his jealousy and anger (thanks, Lazerus Pitt!). He’s so focused on Tim’s privilege that he’s looked past evidence of hardship; if he’s done this much research on Tim, he’s no doubt seen records of multiple boarding schools, lengthy travel records, news reports, a death certificate.... He can’t even bring himself to BELIEVE parts of Tim’s story that aren’t lining up with his world view, like HOW he became Robin.

Jason has convinced himself that what he’s discovered about Tim and the period of time when Jason was dead - the fact that Bruce was spiraling after his death, that his family mourned him, that Tim had to step up to the plate at a weird suicide prevention buddy system - is all a lie. Despite the fact that he’s beating Tim’s ass, he speaks to him with the assumption that Tim’s a child who’s been manipulated and lied to.

Meanwhile, it must be SO PAINFUL for Tim to hear Jason say these things: I bet he said the same thing to you he said to me, didn’t he? That you have the talent to make a difference in Gotham. That he needed someone he could trust in his war on crime. That you were one of a kind. The light in his darkness.

Bruce never said any of that to Tim. Bruce rejected Tim, he didn’t want Tim, and begrudgingly accepted Tim.

Going back to Jason waiting for Tim’s other young teen friends to leave the tower before going in, only drugging his own former teammates, is much of his anger seems directed at THEM, not just Bruce. To Jason, it looks like they didn’t mourn him either, he has no statue. I find it interesting that he smashes Donna Troy’s statue, who died after him, and I believe she came back before he did.

Unless he was keeping track of the news from the League of Assassins, to Jason, Donna never died.

And most importantly? Tim shuts Jason down. Tim “Bitch, Please” Drake out here like: you’re a fucking idiot, he loved you to death, he barely let me audition for the role.

Tim shows some deep resentment towards Jason in this scene. I mean... earned, Jason literally came into his house and starting hitting him, but Tim’s relationship towards the Idea Of Jason has gone through a few changes. At first Jason was ROBIN! THE BOY WONDER! And if maybe Tim thought Bruce wasn’t AS happy with Jason as he was with Dick, there was still SOME hero worship early on. But it only takes Bruce and Alfred and Dick using Jason’s death as a cautionary tale a few times to get Tim to see Jason AS a cautionary tale - the kind of Robin NOT to be. But the more Tim craved Bruce’s paternal attention and approval, and the more Bruce withheld it or made Tim work for it, knowing that Bruce did that, in part, because of his love and grief for his dead son (Tim having an actual living breathing father plays a part, too), and those feelings towards Jason have started to fester.

Jason can’t let it go, though, he thinks the concept of Robin was a mistake and had always been a mistake, and if he can hurt Tim, so can Scarecrow, Penguin, The Joker.

This is a good time to bring up that one thing I think Jason probably doesn’t know is Tim is injured. It is a little over a month since since Conner shattered Tim’s right arm. Tim is still healing from a comminuted fracture in his forearm. And looking at this picture that is - ah, yes, that is the injured arm Jason is swinging Tim by. Tim is probably healed by now, the cast IS off and he’s a child, but bones don’t fully return to full strength for 3-6 months.

Jason is conflicted. This is clearly, in part, a fucked up way of “protecting” what he sees as a manipulated child, to convince him to leave Bruce. But there’s also clearly some deep, deep jealousy thrown into the mix to complicate matters and cloud his judgement. Ultimately, Jason isn’t there to kill Tim. Tim would be dead if he was. He’s there to “beat some sense into him,” and he ultimately fails, and fails badly.

Tim is found by the older Titans, awake by now, though it seems Jason knocked him out to, uh, fuck with the memorial chamber, and Tim... does not beat around the bush. No secret identities here just “yeah, Jason Todd beat the shit out of me.”

And their reactions are HILARIOUS.

One more little sidebar, in the comic, Jason gets in with a D.N.A. check that never removed him from its permissions. Usually in fic this is a unique pass code. I’m not sure which version I like better, honestly. There’s something about Jason physically inputting a code that accepts him even though he’s supposedly dead that I really like, and just feels better than a dna scan. A dna scan sounds SAFER, sure, but there’s something about the Titans leaving in an honest SECURITY RISK out of sentiment that I like.

Lastly, I really like how it ends. Jason honestly thinks Tim IS a good Robin, and it seems like Jason’s done some research on the core four, mentioning Tim’s “real friends” again while the “camera” is on Conner and Cassie, suggesting that Jason KNOWS about them and possibly that targeting the tower while they were gone maybe wasn’t an accident or out of convenience, but fully intentional. And again, Jason’s real problem is highlighted: he feels alone, forgotten, unmemorable, no family, no friends.

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

#Jason Todd #Tim Drake #Teen Titans #Teen Titans (2003-2011)

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broiunno · 3 years

Text

License to Steal

ACT III

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summary: Min Yoongi is your new protection detail upon your return to your father's side after being sent away during a bloody gang war. Now the dust has settled, you've been called back to your old controlled life, and leaving you an unwilling participant in your family's plans. You don't know what they are but you are no longer willing to be the obedient, protected daughter. You don't really care in the least of it makes Yoongi's new assignment hell on earth- So you'll carve your own life out back home on your own terms.

-rating: 18+

-pairing: min yoongi x reader

-word count: 4.2k?

-warnings: swearing, gang activities includes drug mention and eventual drug use, the slowest of burns, organized crime, toxic af family dynamics, family abuse (father initiated), violence, blood, graphic descriptions of torture, and graphic sex scenes will be included in this work. Jealous Yoongi here and I'm into it. Hes also a raging jerk

-authors note: @chelsea-chee is the loml and I will shout it from the rooftops. Posting this reminds me of us geeking over this JK and I was determined I wouldn't love a character more. Then I played myself. Enter Jimin as well :) I love my mysterious man. It's the beginning of the drama in this Act and if anyone has any asks please send them because I need to get my motivation up to finish the Act I'm working on (VIII!) And post Act IV this weekendddddd

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The sun was officially on your shit list.

You rolled over in bed, hand fumbling wildly for your cell phone before, in a last ditch attempt, sliding your hand under your pillow and finding purchase on the device. Huffing a piece of hair from in front of your lips, you cracked open an eye to stare at the screen.

Ten am.

When was the last time you were up at ten without a standing appointment or brunch? Who were you kidding, brunches started at eleven at the earliest. At least they did with your high-end circle of friends. Just a bunch of twenty somethings with no credit card limit and no sense of propriety. Some of them had to pretend to be involved in charity functions, or had family to impress to retain their cash flow, and then there was you.

If you put a bullet in someone’s head your father would ask you where you did it, with whose gun, and where the body was.

You smirked at the thought, groaning as you sat up in bed. What did normal people do this early? You thought back to your time in the States. After one particularly rough party your friend had insisted on a life-changing hot yoga class. That had been ungodly early. (It had in fact started at one in the afternoon.)

Work out. That’s what normal people did. You assumed you could also use it. The stress release, the endorphins. Lord knows you needed something to keep you sane at this point. You shuffled over to the chest of drawers and pulled out black training leggings, a matching sports bra and a black tank top. You tossed them half-haphazardly on the bed before tying up your hair and staring at your phone screen. Should you bother to text Yoongi before you went to the gym that was inside the house?

It was still inside, but you wanted peace. Giving him the knowledge could go one of two ways. He would trail you and make you want to pull out your hair, or he would not come looking since you were informing him of your whereabouts. If you didn’t tell him, he would be tearing apart the house until he eventually disturbed your workout. The thought of your father being alerted over you disappearing inside the house was a headache you needed to avoid. Might as well tell him upfront. Your fingers danced along the screen after you had changed from your oversize sleep shirt to your workout gear.

Y/N: I’m going to the gym downstairs. I want to go on a run and don’t want you following me around the block. I guess a treadmill will do.

You slipped on your socks and tennis shoes before stepping into the hall to head down to the gym. A man clearing his throat made your head snap up. You gritted your teeth as your eyes met Yoongi’s bored expression looking down at you. “I didn’t know you worked out.”

“I don’t, but isn’t this what therapists recommend in a depression? Physical exercise?”

“I think I’ve heard it once or twice. I guess the shopping thing didn’t work for long.” He chuckled and walked down the hall to the elevator, typing in the pin before stepping back.

“I wanted to go alone Min.”

“I wasn’t intending on following you.”

“Good!” you snapped and stepped onto the lift, cheeks flushing at his dismissal; he had only come out to call the elevator? He wasn’t even planning on following? “I’ll text you when I’m back in my room and showered. I want to go have a drink.”

“Whatever you say, Princess.”

The metal door slid shut, making the smirking man's face disappear and your lip curled even deeper. What a little shit. He got off on this, you could tell.

You entered the gym nestled in your humble abode and sighed. Your father had really found time to update everything except the decor in the main entertaining areas and hallways. It was getting a little ridiculous at this point.

You took a few steps in, pulling your wireless earbuds out of their case and nestling them in your ears. Glad no one was using the cardio equipment. Not that they wouldn’t have moved for you, but it would have been awkward all the same. You mused over the elliptical, treadmill, and stationary bike before deciding to step onto the treadmill, glancing over to the weight and free-standing equipment to your right; no one was over there it seemed either. You sighed in quiet relief and swiped across your phone screen until clicking on your desired playlist.

You started at a walk, working your way into a steady run, feeling your legs groan in protest at the exertion before loosening, a delicious ache spreading through you. You slowed slightly as you tugged the shirt over your head and tossed it to the ground. A slow flush began overtaking you, sweat beading and streaming down your neck and chest. The reverb of your feet and your breathing becoming the only sensations you allowed yourself to acknowledge.

Until a tattooed hand slipped into your vision and clicked up on the incline of the treadmill’s interface. You lurched forward, hands flying out to rip at the emergency stop, head whipping to your right, a screech already in your throat. It died swiftly when you were met face-to-face with a smirking Jungkook, dark hair inky black with sweat and even curlier than yesterday from the moisture. You slipped a shaking hand up to one earbud and pulled it out. “What the hell Jungkook?” you hissed before feeling your eyes go wide and glancing down his upper body shamelessly.

Had you really told this...this kid yesterday he didn’t look like muscle? Standing here in front of you was the embodiment of it. Lean and cut, he wore a t-shirt that had obviously had the sleeves cut off, and had been ripped on the sides low enough to bless you with a view of his obliques. “Noona, if you didn’t have your music so loud you would have heard me,” he chided with that same smirk, head tilting to the side.

“Heard you say what?” you breathed, heart hammering fast and you weren’t sure if it was the run or the young man in front of you. For the sake of your pride you were going to say it was the run until your dying day.

“That you should run at an incline if you want to work out your glutes… not that you need it.” He mused, tilting his head back, smoothing his hair, arms over his head and providing you a clear visual of his full tattoo sleeve on one arm, the other starkly bare and golden, both still gleaming with sweat. He looked down at you and you felt his dark eyes assessing your figure. It roved your face, then lowered to your chest, stomach, and thighs.

You flushed and spluttered for a few seconds and shook your head. “There was no one in here when I got here, where did you even come from?” you mumbled and tried to turn back to the treadmill, hands gripping the heart monitor in a bid to distract yourself from this demigod in front of you.

“You’re so unobservant Noona. No wonder you have Yoongi-hyung as a bodyguard. Hyung and I have been here for awhile. We stepped out to get more water, came back, and you were running. We went back to press and you didn’t even look at us.”

“If you knew I wasn’t paying attention, why did you raise the inc- wait who?” You had been prepared to rip him for screwing with your obliviousness before you realized he had indicated someone else you didn’t know was present. If Yoongi had tailed you to the gym even after his promises you would skin him alive. If it was another new face, it indicated just how busy your father had been while you were gone.

“Oh, I forgot you probably haven’t met Jimin-hyung. Hyung!” Jungkook mused then called out towards the weight equipment. You heard the snap of plates hitting each other before footsteps and you turned your head towards the figure approaching you, and your eyes bulged again.

“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Jimin, Kook hasn’t shut up about-”

“That’s enough hyung,” Jungkook growled and looped a muscled arm around the newcomer’s neck and squeezing; the absolutely gorgeous man simply twisted and slipped from the larger man's hold. His lips couldn’t be naturally that plump, could they? You blinked as you admired his smiling crescent eyes and jaw before letting your gaze drop to his long neck. Even with Jungkook’s muscled forearm wrapped around it you could see an expanse of skin. You felt yourself swallow hard. This was getting ridiculous.

“Whoa, Y/N! One fifty-four for your heart rate, you better take a break!” Jimin said urgently, raising his eyebrows at you. You released the heart monitor as if it burned you and you felt the slight flush from your run and Jungkook’s teasing deepen from being exposed by the damn piece of workout equipment.

“Don’t tell me your muscle too,” you said lightly, waving your hand airly in an attempt to regain your footing and divert the conversation. Your eyes flicked from Jimin to Jungkook appraisingly. “I know I said you don’t look like muscle yesterday Kook, but he definitely doesn’t.” You said it sarcastically, stepping off the treadmill in defeat. You were not going to be able to finish this run in peace now.

“No, I’m a grease man. I get in and out where others can’t go,” Jimin said with a smile that made his entire face light up, eyes turning into crescent moons, pouty lips spreading and you stared silently. Standing here sweating and exposed in front of two beautiful men, you couldn’t help biting your bottom lip and crossing your arms over your chest self consciously.

Did your father require men to send in headshots now before hiring them?

“Oh yeah, Jimin-hyung is super flexible and strong. He spots me when I lift,” Jungkook said, frowning at the bewitched look on your face. “He is only called for special stuff…” he grumbled. His eyes drifted to the side before glancing between you and his hyung, shifting his weight and tongue poking the inside of his cheek as his jaw clenched.

You cocked your head and smirked, looking over Jimin and taking in the long sleeve dry fit shirt and the orange hair pushed back from his face. It laid like he had been pushing it back all day until it finally just stayed that way now that the roots were damp. “Are you pouting?” You laughed and shook your head, Jimin’s bell-like laugh rang out as Jungkook sent him a scathing look that actually made the older man fall silent, and hold his hands up.

“I just don’t know why you have to look at him like that, Noona,” Jungkook said softly, reaching down and his fingers circled your wrist, tugging, and you dropped your arms from in front of your chest. Goosebumps broke out across your skin and you looked up.

“Jungkook, again, what the hell-” you hissed, going to step away before a loud noise made you pause.

A click and the bang of the door hitting against the wall made you jump and turn, taking in Yoongi in the doorway, eyes flashing with an emotion that could only be described as… was that rage?

“Looks like you're having some work out.”

You practically felt the world's rotation slow as your eyes locked with Yoongi’s. His narrowed orbs roved over your figure and locked on your chest before shifting to Jungkook and his hold on your wrist, a sneer shifting onto his face. In that moment you were reminded why your father favored him. He was down-right intimidating. The way he had looked at the scene and locked onto most of the pertinent details in a way. The way you could swear the temperature in the room had dropped with his entry. The thought made your heart stutter; he was clever and that made him powerful. It made a chill skitter down your spine.

You were suddenly extremely aware of the fact that you weren’t wearing a shirt. The lurch of emotion you had felt when Jungkook had grabbed you was eclipsed by the embarrassment of Yoongi’s unspoken accusation. “Let go of her.” The purr was quiet but the younger man uncurled his fingers from you and you took the opportunity to glance at Jungkook as he did it, eyes alight with amusement and a slight smile on his lips.

“Of course hyung. Don’t tell me you came for a workout in that suit? You wanna join us?”

“Three’s a crowd,” Yoongi said lightly and his eyes traveled back to you, watching you shift uncomfortably under the weight of his gaze. “Princess, didn’t I tell you he was too young for you?” The nickname carried so much mocking; you flushed even deeper.

“Hyung, why are you acting like I’m not only two years younger than her?” Jungkook said softly back, an eyebrow quirking and head tilting again. What did he think he was going to goad Yoongi into?

“Yoongi, shut up. It’s none of your business who I hang out with,” You hissed and crossed over to your shirt on the floor. You became vaguely aware that the clinking of weights hitting each other was audible around the corner. Jimin was indeed a sneaky man, having slipped back to the machine to make his uninvolvement clear. You smiled slightly as you leaned down to grab the piece of clothing when a presence behind you made you pause bent at the waist, hand clenched in the fabric.

You turned your head, looking back over your shoulder at Jungkook’s still sweaty figure almost touching yours. “Noona, I take it back, you don’t need to work on your ass. It’s fine. Forget the incline.”

If any blood in your body wasn’t running to your face, it was now. You snapped upright and spluttered in shock that he was continuing whatever game he was playing. At the same moment your lips worked in protest, a veined white hand gathered the back of Jungkook’s shirt and jerked back, causing the buff man to violently stumble back, providing you with room to think again.

“If you don’t knock it off, one of those teeth is going to end up stuck in the sole of my shoe,” Yoongi said coldly, fists flexing as he stepped in-between the two of you. “Princess, if you’re done making this one’s hormones override his brain, let’s go,” he said, his tone clipped, but not taking his eyes off Jungkook as you snatched your phone and airpods off the treadmill before stomping to the door.

Who the hell did he think he was? He was your protection detail, sure. You didn’t need protection from Jungkook, or inside of the house, now did you? This was far too much of an invasion of your life. You continued with heavy steps to the elevator, hearing the door to the gym click closed as Yoongi exited the gym.

“Yoongi-”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Your eyes widened and you swung your head to him. “Excuse me?”

“I said, shut the fuck up. Do you want me to make it easier to understand and say you look so much prettier when that infuriating mouth is closed? Shut the fuck up.” Yoongi’s eyes were closed, his face no longer cold and blank, his expression nearly pained. You took your moment of shock to observe him. Broad shoulders were stiff and his unexplainable anger seemed to roll off him in waves. He really did look great in those suits he seemed to favor these days, but that wasn’t the point. His actions were completely unwarranted and with that thought you scoffed loudly.

“Don’t tell me what to do! Don’t tell me who I can work out with- ACTUALLY I wasn’t even working out with them, I was running and they just burst-”

“You looked like you were about seven seconds away from getting on your knees for him. Which he has no shortage of girls doing. He pulls that ‘Noona this and Noona that’ shit like his body count isn’t as high as- you know what? Nevermind,” Yoongi snapped, eyes opening and looking you over before calling the elevator for you. His pale hand reached up to tug at his shirt collar in frustration before pressing the down button.

“I honestly wasn’t thinking about sucking him off, but now that you mention it…” You mused, tapping your finger against your lower lip and humming, noting how Yoongi’s eyes locked onto you as you did so. The faint flush painting the tips of his ears made you smile as he licked his lips in annoyance and sighed. “Not that it’s any of your business who I’m on my knees for, Min, but I was not. I want to shower, why are we going down?” you said, changing course in the middle of your thought process, eyes narrowing.

“Your father called for you while you were putting on a show for JK. He’ll never leave you alone now that he’s seen all this.” Yoongi growled, gesturing vaguely to your body and shaking his head aggressively. “And put your damn shirt on. I’d rather not everyone we see pop a boner the entire way there.”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread over your lips in pure feminine satisfaction, pieces that weren’t fitting together regarding the situation that had just transpired rotating and locking into place. While Jungkook had pouted when you ogled Jimin, Yoongi seemed truly irately jealous. You thought about the previous night and how he had teased you then left you lonely and wanting. You could play this game too; you had swore he wouldn’t win after all.

“Yoongi…” you breathed, dropping your arms to your side and tilting your head to the side in purely feigned innocence. “Why would anyone...” Your tone dropped as you stepped towards him, noting he still didn’t turn to you, even after your demeanor had become saturated with open flirtation. “Look at me like that?” you whispered, pressing your chest onto his arm, a hand reaching out and resting against his belt buckle. You felt his body stiffen further, and he finally deigned to look down at you, face carefully blank but eyes burning with lingering anger. There seemed to be a newfound mischief that sparked in his dark eyes.

“Princess, you know damn well why. The same reason the little boy couldn’t resist teasing you. Part of the reason your father wants me to babysit you. You’re too sexy for your own good and you’ll end up getting someone killed trying to touch this perfect body of yours. You can’t be trusted to behave yourself… Just look at you.” You felt your breathing catch and his words shot straight to your cunt, blinking as he reached across with his free hand, one arm still pinned between his side and your chest. You felt fire break out across your skin as he rested his hand against the side of your still damp head, finger tips slipping into your hair.

Your breathing had gone from simply catching to being completely irregular at his next words. “I have to show you how to behave Princess…” he mumbled and a feline smirk stretched across his face as he turned his trapped hand to run up and grip your upper thigh with a force that made a whine escape your lips, your eyes glazing. Yoongi smirked at your expression and he let out a deep chuckle. “You’re that lonely, huh? Put your shirt on Y/N.” The mocking had reentered in his tone as he dropped his hand from your hair and released your thigh.

Yoongi rolled his shoulders back and looked at you with a schooled expression, lips tilted upwards. He exhaled loudly and cracked his neck as the elevator jolted to a stop. How was he so unaffected after lighting you on fire? You pressed your thighs together to try and force the demanding ache in-between your legs to diminish. You stared up at him in disbelief, mouth slipping open slightly, trying to catch up with the intense wave of emotions he was causing in your gut before it settled on embarrassment.

“Just another lonely, rich, bored princess. That’s why everyone will actually stare. You’re naïve. You’re too easy,” he said coldly, all trace of the teasing gone out of his voice, disdain dripping off every word.

Your flush had been cooling and subsiding, but his words brought it back full force as you followed him into the elevator, scrambling to pull the shirt over your head with a scowl. Your actions had been to tease him, but of course he had no feelings outside of blind obedience to your father. Of course he had gone for your jugular. Your legs felt like weights as the door to the elevator slid open and you tried to walk down the familiar concrete hallway to your father’s office.

He was nothing but a prick. A cruel prick.

Jungkook’s POV:

Jungkook let Yoongi rip him back, let the threats slide off him. He wasn’t that easily phased by the simmering rage his friend was releasing to the surface. Yoongi was scary, but unless he had a knife or gun in his hand, Jungkook wouldn’t let it bother him. He let out a small laugh, shaking his head and stretching his arms over his shoulders until a loud clunk signaled Jimin’s pause in his reps.

“You should have stopped when he came in looking like that,” Jimin chided softly as Jungkook approached him.

“Why? He thinks he has some claim on her because they’ve known each other since they were kids, even though he won’t say it outloud. They don’t even get along.” He snickered and waved a hand flippantly before plucking at the back of his shirt as if it would smooth the wrinkles Yoongi had put there.

He hadn’t really been able to help teasing you when you were so oblivious to their presence when they walked into the gym. Jimin had paused and started back out, but Jungkook couldn’t help but watch you from behind, studying your hips and the swell of your ass as you ran. Did it make him a creep? Maybe. He had even exhaled loudly and grunted during his bench presses and sets, but you never once looked over at him.

Even when he had approached you and started talking to you about upping the incline of your run you didn’t react. It wasn’t until he was changing the settings without your consent did you turn to him. When you did he had to breathe deeper than he had during his workout. Your chest was heaving and the sweat running down your neck and travelling into your cleavage had made him swallow hard. His restraint was weak at the best of times, and the thought of him making you sweat and pant like that made the blood rush to his cock.

He had even noted yesterday in the few moments he was in the restaurant how miserable you had seemed all alone. He wouldn’t have made you sit alone for dinner if he was your bodyguard. He might not be as observant as Yoongi but he wasn’t stupid. Even if being around you would probably be detrimental to his focus and situational awareness. That outfit yesterday made him shiver. Keeping post by the vehicle, he had witnessed Yoongi put his hand on your bareskin a few times, and it made the monster of envy rear its head.

You had seemed to have enjoyed talking to him too until Yoongi had entered today. He shook his head and tried to return to the present as he went to the thigh press and placed the lock on the plates to set his weight, getting on the bench and lifting his feet onto the plate. When Yoongi had entered, why had your face changed from slight annoyance at his childish antics to guilt and a bit of shame? What had you really been caught doing? If you had been actually doing anything, you still shouldn’t have felt guilty. Jungkook knew Yoongi would rather keep you up on the imaginary pedestal he had placed you on in his youth than to run the risk of upsetting their boss. Jungkook sighed and racked his brain, that logic didn’t make sense. Yoongi wasn’t afraid of your father the way the rest of the family was; it was almost unnerving, the ease with which Yoongi would make calls when out on jobs that went directly against your father’s orders. It just so happened all his calls produced the desired result in the end, and he was always rewarded for it. If someone else had made those decisions, they would be found on the other side of town and a call would be put out for the coroner.

Jungkook smiled as he thought of Yoongi’s perfect nickname for you- Princess. That had to be why he never made an actual move on you… he was worried about shattering his trapped princess fantasy. But Jungkook wanted to pull you down and see how sinful that dirty mouth could actually be… And he wanted it to be just for him.

#bts mafia au #bts mafia fic #min yoongi x oc #min yoongi x reader #bts fanfction #bts ff #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x you #bts criminal au #yoongi x reader #bts fic #bts fanfic #min yoongi fic #mafia bts

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inevitably-johnlocked · 3 years

Note

Hi Steph! Would you happen to have any fic recs that involve John meeting the Holmes family? I always think that's such an interesting dynamic to see! Also, I think this goes without saying but I love your blog and appreciate your contributions to the fandom! Thanks!

Hey Nonny!

Ah, thank you! I’m glad you enjoy my blog!

Oooo! Yes, I love that dynamic too!! ANNNNND!!! You’re giving me the chance to make a part 2 for a REALLY OLD LIST!!! So YAY!!! I found a bunch on a text doc I haven’t posted yet, so HERE WE GO! Hope you enjoy, and as always, everyone please add your own!

PARENTS AND FAMILIES Pt. 2

See also:

Parents & Family

Meeting the Family With a Fake Relationship

Do You Love Me? by whitchry9 (K, 641 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Family, Epic Bromance) – John asks Sherlock perhaps the most important question.

Once Upon A Time by ProfessorSquirrell (T, 908 w., 1 Ch. || Family, Snippets of Life, Romance, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Implied Drug Use, Angst with Happy Ending) – There is a room in Sherlock's mind palace where nothing gets deleted. And it looks like this...

Crisis Averted by Spartangal22 (T, 2,188 w., 1 Ch. || HLV Fic, Missing Scene After Confronting Mary, Canon Compliant, Sherlock Whump / Mary Shot Sherlock, Family / Friendship, Hospitalization, Sherlock POV, Holmes Brothers) – Lying in the hospital, Sherlock receives some surprising visitors, and manages to deal with two problems he's been having lately. A missing scene from HLV about a formal introduction that was never made and a visit that was never shown.

The Only Available Transportation by blueink3 (T, 5,379 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Fluff and Angst, Insecure Sherlock, Caring John, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Birthday, Family, Misunderstandings) – It’s possibly the desperation that’s seeped into his voice despite his best intentions, or perhaps it’s just a mother’s intuition, but she knows that whatever he’s calling about is Serious, hangover be damned. “What’s happened?” she asks, tone soft and as comforting as a hot cup of tea on a cold winter’s night. “Mummy,” he begins, voice catching. “I think John may be moving out.”

On the Steadfast Approach of an Oncoming Darkness by 2bee (T, 7,772 w., 1 Ch. || Apocalypse, Minor Character Death, Sort of Parentlock) – The world is ending. Not fast, but slowly, like falling asleep with a fever.

The Name Game by ItsClydeBitches221B (K, 8,958 w., 1 Ch. || Humour, Family, Platonics / Friendship, Sort-of Parentlock, John/Mary, Mary is Nice, Five and Ones, Baby Watson, Mycroft Loves Baby Watson) – The names that baby girl Watson comes up with for her extended family. Or: how everyone—Watsons, Holmes, and others alike— just learned to give up and embrace their weirdness.

The Burning of the Leaves by blueink3 (M, 15,915 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Angst, Reichenbach, Parentlock, Past Jolto, Idiot John, Sherlock’s a Mess, Puppies, Fluff, Possessive / Jealous Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, Matchmaker Sholto, Melancholic Feelings, Emotional Sherlock, Domesticity, Love Confessions in the Rain, Kissing in the Rain, Pet Names) – After the events of series 4, Major Sholto invites John and Sherlock to lunch one day. It nearly proves to be too much for their tenuous relationship as the past haunts the present, putting the future that Sherlock so desperately wants at risk.

Permanent Fixture by vitruvianwatson (E, 18,836 w., 9 Ch. || Post-S4, Parentlock, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, They’re Good Parents, Blushing Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Explicit Consent, Sexual Content, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Big Feelings, Crying, First Kiss, Fluff, Anxious Sherlock, Inexperienced Sherlock, Emotional Communication, Love Confessions) – Now, as Rosie sat curled up against Sherlock’s side, John watched and wondered exactly how he had ended up here. Domesticity had never suited him before, not at any point in his life. His disastrous marriage had been proof of that. But somehow, here in the warmth and safety of 221B Baker Street, here with Sherlock Holmes reading medical jargon to his daughter, Sherlock’s bony feet nudging against his leg, John couldn’t imagine anyplace that would make him happier.

Dropping the Act by jadztone (T, 27,258 w., 10 Ch. || Parentlock, Fake Relationship, Mary’s Family, Post-S4, Cuddling & Snuggling, Bed Sharing, Pining, Christmas) – Sherlock and John are quite happy living together with Rosie in Baker St. They might be even happier if they didn’t act towards each other like their love is only platonic. Mycroft brings troubling news in the form of Mary’s parents wanting to know just what their grandchild’s home life is like. The boys decide to spend Christmas pretending like they are in love in order to seem more like a "normal" family. It's easy enough to pretend when all you're doing is dropping the act.

An Acquired Taste by kinklock (E, 31,059 w., 4 Ch. || Vampires AU || Vampire Sherlock, Misunderstandings, Bat!Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Humour, Magical Realism, Fluff and Angst, Blood Drinking, Holmes Family, Slow Burn) – At Montague Street when Sherlock was forced to sate his body’s needs, he was at least able to wander about the flat as much as he pleased. At Baker Street, it was mini-bags in a mini-fridge and bedroom confinement.

Chaperones by MissDavis (T, 34,114 w., 7 Ch. || 11 Years Post-S4, Fake Relationship, Parentlock, Disney World, Bed / Room Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, First Kiss, Obsessive Sherlock, Insecure John) – Right. Of course. Everyone assumed they were a couple and no one would question it. John put his elbows up on the table so he could rest his head in his hands. "You want to pretend to be a couple so we can chaperone a trip to Disney World with Rosie's class and you won't have to share a room with a stranger?" "Exactly." Sherlock beamed at him. "Don't worry about the cost. The Birmingham case last month paid more than enough to cover expenses for all three of us."

Where The Ghosts Have Voices by HappyJuicyfruit (M, 37,691 w., 12 Ch. || Supernatural AU || Ghosts, Magical Realism, Light Horror, Fluff and Smut, John Can See Ghosts, John Whump, Emotional Manipulation, Dark Magic, Coma, Injury Recovery, Blow Jobs, Anal, Happy Ending, John’s Past, Mr Holmes, Powerful John, Holmes Brothers, Sherlock’s Past, Past Viclock, Drug Abuse, Hair Pulling) – John has lived his whole life as an outcast. It is only when he meets Sherlock, that be realizes being a freak might not be such a bad thing, and that the curse he has lived with his whole life may be a gift after all. (TO READ)

Anchor Point by trickybonmot (E, 49,856 w., 80 Ch. || Truman Show AU || Psychological Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Dark Characters / Fic, Alternating First/Third Person, Protective John, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Tender Moments, Love Confessions, Hand/Blow Jobs, Cuddling, Jealous John, First Kiss/Time) – The world tunes in nightly for Sherlock, the ultimate in reality TV: Sherlock Holmes, a real person with a legendary name, unknowingly lives out his life in a staged setting contrived by his brother. Things get complicated when a retired army doctor joins the show to play the part of Sherlock's closest friend. This fic borrows its concept from the 1998 film, the Truman Show. However, you don't need to have any knowledge of the movie to enjoy this story.

The Hollow Woman by ScopesMonkey (M, 51,335 w., 22 Ch. || Post-TRF, Major Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Friendship, Family, Angst, Crime, Reunion, First Kiss / Time, Nightmares, Doctor John, Jealous Sherlock, Jealous John, BAMF John, Angry John, Dub-Con, Rough Sex, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Villain Mary, Open Ending) – Forced to return to London sooner than expected, Sherlock falls into a case too close to home. Part 1 of the Hollowverse series

Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."

Points by lifeonmars (E, 53,791 w., 42 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || HLV Rewrite / Canon Divergence, Married Life, Pregnancy / Baby Watson, Drinking to Cope, Boxing / Fisticuffs, Clueless John, Angst, Minor Medical Drama, Tattoos, Christmas, First Kiss/Time, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Doctor John, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Case Fic, Drugging, Blow/Hand Job, Emotional Love Making, Parenthood, Passage of Time) – What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.

The Monument of Memory by J_Baillier (M, 79,663 w., 14 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It Fic / S4 is Canon, Angst, Family Drama, Guilt, Case Fic, John Loves Sherlock, Complicated Feelings, Mentalism / Hypnosis, Murder, Grieving John, Sherlock is a Bit Not Good, Team Work, Trust Issues, BAMF John, Psychological Trauma, Protective John, Autistic-Spectrum Sherlock, Parentlock, John POV) – A genius traumatised by a past he's only beginning to recall. The psychopath sister that time forgot. A missing woman and a mentalist who may or may not be a murderer. And, in the middle of it all, stands John Watson.

Kintsukuroi by sussexbound (E, 91,823 w., 20 Ch. || S4 Compliant / Post-TLD, Grief / Mourning, PTSD, Internalized Homophobia, Therapy, Past Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Anxiety, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Suicidal Ideation, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Sexting, Frottage, Inexperienced Sherlock, Rimming / Anal / BJ’s, Emotional Turmoil, Finding Each Other) – “I love you.” Sherlock sees the words hit John with almost physical force. He reels back a little, jaw twitching and eyes filling. “I love you,” he repeats, a little softer, a little more gentle, as earnest as he possibly can. Because they’ve been teetering on the brink of this thing for years, and it had become painfully obvious over the last few months that they were at a tipping point. This had to happen. Now it has. Now they can see where they end up. The tears in John’s eyes spill over, and he wipes at them angrily. “Do you even know what that means?”

The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, Asexual Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Flashbacks, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Case Fic, Sherlock’s Past, Awkward Conversations, Anxious Sherlock) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series

The Wedding Garments by cwb (E, 105,390 w., 36 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate Future AU || Alternate First Meeting, Dating / Arranged Marriages, Romance, First Kiss/Time, Heavy Petting, Cuddles, POV Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn / Falling in Love / Dev. Rel., Nervous/Anxious Sherlock, Jealous/Cranky, Hiking, Vacation Homes / Honeymoon, Sherlock’s Family, Horny John/Sherlock, Patient John, Massages, Hand Jobs, Assassination Plots, Hand Jobs / Oral Sex, Case Fic, Emotional Love Making, Bath Time Fun) – This is the story of a young consulting detective who wants nothing to do with marriage and an army doctor who wants to find true love. It's 2020 post-Brexit England and the British government is encouraging arranged marriages. Candidates meet through state-run agencies and date in hopes of finding love (and tax benefits). Sherlock doesn't need or want a spouse, at least not until John Watson shows up. Hesitant to give in to his more carnal urges because of the way they derail his mind, how will Sherlock progress toward the more intimate aspects of a relationship? The answer lies in a very special wedding gift.

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

The Lost Special: Family Matters (As Do Relationships) by ShirleyCarlton (M, 144,688 w., 40 Ch. || S4 Fix It Fic, Unreliable Narrator, John’s Mind Bungalow, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending) – Sherrinford is not really the name of some high security prison. That was just a figment of John’s frantic coma dream. And Eurus is not actually Sherlock’s sister. That’s just something random she said to John before shooting him. Sherlock and John were never actually estranged. That was just their act to cover up what really happened to Mary – or Rosamund Moran, as her real name has turned out to be. Sherlock does have a secret sibling, though, and his name is Sherrinford. After finally eliminating Moran – though in a rather dramatically different way than they had envisioned – and exposing the truth about Eurus, John encourages Sherlock to delve into his past and to find out whether the reasons to keep Sherrinford away from Sherlock were the right ones, and to discover what really happened in 1981. Along the way, Sherlock and John gradually, finally, stop keeping each other at a distance, and eventually become a proper family of their own.

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #parents and families #meeting the family #Anonymous

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seiyasabi · 3 years

Text

Beta

(This is a Yandere Alpha N’Doul x Beta Female Reader! I hope you guys enjoy this :))

TW: !Noncon/Dubcon!, no stand au, sexual harassment (from the big man himself, Dio), mentions of disability(blindness)!, mentions of organised crime!, mentions of violence!, !knotting!, breeding kink!, you have no rights even as a Beta :((, !Alpha kink, !slight scent kink, !slight body horror at the end but nothing explicit!, etc..)

When you accepted the role as a caregiver, you assumed that the man you were going to watch after was normal. After all, the man was rumoured to have a trust fund, and you assumed that he was rich from old money.

How wrong you had been.

How would you have known that the man you’re helping is in one of the most feared mafia’s in the world?

You’d found this out by accident. He’d asked you to bring an expensive wine for him and a ‘friend,’ but when you walked in, you saw his ‘friend’ sprawled out on the floor, dead. That’s when he used his ‘Alpha Voice’ on you for the first time. He demanded you move into his estate, because he couldn’t risk you being a snitch.

The ultimatum was to move in, or die, and by God, you weren’t going to die.

“If you weren’t a Beta, I’d have stolen you away a long time ago,” Your hands shake slightly when you pour an expensive scotch into the blond Alpha’s cup. You’d always been sensitive to an Alpha’s scent or words, and this man’s smell is overwhelming.

“Thank you, Mister Brando, but I’m sure my boss wouldn’t like that,” You chuckle nervously, as you swiftly move away from his large form. Taking a small glance towards N’Doul, you see an impassive look on his well-sculpted face. He’s used to his boss’ crude words towards you, but the annoyed pheromone in his scent is very apparent.

“Of course he wouldn’t, you’re one of the few useful servants here,” He swishes the amber liquid around in his cup, the ice clinking against the glass making you flinch, “But, I have a proposition for you that I know you can’t refuse; you smell very… enchanting for a mere Beta. This is a known fact. The only differences between you and an Omega is that you’re level-headed and less annoying. That means that you’ll make a very good mate for one of my most trusted men,” By this time, you’d made your way to your boss, and were in the middle of pouring him a glass of a strong smelling bourbon. The blond Alpha’s words make your blood run cold, and you quickly stop pouring N’Doul his drink in fear of your shaking causing a spill. Dio’s golden eyes flash in amusement, “Why do you seem so surprised, Beta? You’ve been faithful to us for quite some time now, and I believe you deserve some comfort. If you marry him, you’ll live a lavish life. The only thing you must do for us, besides giving us unwavering loyalty, is bear him many children. The mafia needs a future generation, after all.”

You gasp in disbelief, your free hand covering your gawking mouth. He can’t be serious. You weren’t born into a mafia family, you weren’t rich, you aren’t good on the field, etc., why would he want you to marry one of his high ranking men?

“I, uhm, I’m flattered that you’d offer me such an amazing, uhm, opportunity, but I don’t think I can up and leave my boss. I’ve helped him for about two years, so it might not be very good for him-” N’Doul suddenly grabs your right wrist, scaring you half to death. You almost drop the bourbon bottle in your left hand, but luckily regain your hold on it.

“She’s right, Master Dio, I still need her assistance in my manor. She helps me write my paperwork, reads off important messages, and assists with many other equally as important tasks. It would be quite hard for me to find someone who is as trusted and reliable as she is,” He slowly releases his hold on you, gently squeezing your right hand’s fingers. You shift uncomfortably on your feet, Dio looks positively pleased with himself, while your boss looks in his general direction with an unamused expression.

“Are you both sure that you want to miss out on this opportunity? I didn’t even say the Alpha’s name yet,” The both of you vehemently nod, you because you don’t want to marry some rando to become a baby factory, and your boss because he can’t bear the thought of you being mated to someone else. “I see, what a shame. I was actually going to offer her to you, N’Doul, but I guess she can continue to be your servant if you want,” The dark haired Alpha’s scent turns sour, making you gulp in both fear and confusion.

“Master Dio, what are you implying?”

“You want to marry her, don't you? Your sweet Beta always takes care of you, she’s willing to do anything to make you comfortable,” Oh God, Dio thinks you’re in love with your boss, “And don’t think I haven’t noticed the change of your scent when she walks into the room, or how you treat her so kindly. The N’Doul I know wouldn’t have hesitated to kill someone if they found out his secret, yet you spared her without a second thought. It seems that the both of you have found your match,” He throws his drink back, finishing it with a single swig, “But, if you still don’t wish to marry, I understand-”

“Please don’t play with my feelings,” Your boss stands to his feet, his scent now overwhelmingly angry, “Of course I’d want to marry her, is that really a question you must ask?” Dio smirks at his uncharacteristic anger.

“Oh, is that so? Then I suppose I will allow it,” He stands to his feet as well, easily towering over the both of you, “Now that that’s settled-”

“Wait! I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but don’t I get a say in this?” N’Doul, who is closest to you, tries to reach out for you again, but you easily dodge his hand, “I’m sorry Master N’Doul, but I don’t want to marry you. I also don’t want any children, and I don’t want any direct involvement with the mafia. I’m fine helping you out around the house and doing my job, but I don’t want anything besides a professional relationship,” It’s quiet for a long moment, a look of hurt flashing over your boss’ face, along with an upset smell permeating the room, before Dio begins to laugh.

“Oh my, it’s so adorable that you think you have a choice. Did you forget that even though you’re not an Omega, the law still views you as lesser to an Alpha? For once, we’d be following the law in making you submit to your Alpha,” The blond rounds the left side of the table, heading straight towards you. In a panic, you try to move to your right to round the table and run for the door, but you run into your boss.

Instead of being thrown off kilter like usual, he stands firm. His arms wrap around your middle, forcing you up against him. You think that he’s surprisingly well built for a man who needs your help 24/7, and that’s when you realise that you’re just a cover. The police know that you work for him, and whenever they’ve questioned you, you’ve always said the same thing; he has no sense of balance, he needs your help to get around the house, etc.. But, looking at the situation at hand, it’s clear that he’s never needed you for anything besides his mafia paperwork.

“I think she’s figured it out N’Doul,” The scary Alpha is now before you, staring down at you with a shit-eating grin, “Though, that doesn’t matter. What matters now is that you listen to me well,” Oh no, “You’re going to marry him, whether you want to or not. You will give him as many pups as he wants, or else you’ll be punished. If you try to escape, you will be punished. Do you understand me?” He’s used his Alpha voice on you. Normally this wouldn’t phase a Beta, but you were no normal Beta.

Against your better judgement, you nod, saying a very forced, “Yes, Alpha,”

“Good. His rut will begin in a few days. When that happens, you will service him as an Omega would. I will give you some heat inducing pills, and you will take them the moment his rut begins,” You stare at the ground with a frown, and nod.

“Okay… but how will they work? I’m not an Omega-” N’Doul’s hold tightens around your ribs exponentially, making you wheeze.

“Don’t act too rash,” He scolds the dark haired Alpha, “That’s an excellent question, Beta,” You flinch at his words, and freeze in fear when he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him, “There are many drugs on the market that can trigger a reaction from your kind. Many Alphas find it fun to break a Beta down into a gushing, cock or pussy hungry whore. You, my dear, are going to be my dear friends’ mate, which means you need to be ready for a long and hard week. If you aren’t you’ll surely die of exhaustion,” N’Doul growls at that, causing Dio to shush him softly, “So, to stop that, you’re going to go into heat as well. It’s as simple as that.”

His words are calming ones, trying to lull you into a false sense of security. But, you know better. You know that both men can kill you easily, you know that your boss could give you up, ending with you becoming a sex slave. So, to save your own skin, you give in.

“Okay. I understand.”

The next few days are a whirlwind of emotion. Because his cover has now been blown, N’Doul refuses your help with any task besides paperwork. Turns out, he’s very high functioning, and he is able to count his steps to-and-fro, and is also able to do things like cooking without your help.

Ever since that day with Dio, he’s been trying to make it up to you. He’ll make you your favourite food, dress you in pretty dresses, help you shower, etc.. It’s honestly suffocating, but whenever you try to distance yourself, one of his few servants will detain you, only to return you back to the patient Alpha.

The day before his scheduled rut, one of the female servants took it upon herself to wax your entire body. Unfortunately for you, she’s a very old fashioned Alpha, and she had no qualms in using her Alpha voice against you. So, she sat you down on the edge of a large jacuzzi like bath tub, and went to town. When your soon to be mate called for you, it’d taken all of your power to walk down the stairs without falling flat on your face. He’d known something was wrong, because your smell wasn’t as lovely as usual, and the way you walked sounded completely different than normal. You didn’t bother lying to him, and to say he was pissed was an understatement.

A low growl draws you from your thoughts, along with the heavy smell of arousal trailing from N’Doul’s quarters. Sighing in dread, you head towards your dresser, grabbing the pills Dio gave you from a small unused jewelry box. Chucking them into your mouth, you unscrew the cap of your water bottle and take a large swig, swallowing down the aphrodisiac you are forced to take.

Shuffling towards your door, you hear the male’s groaning grow loader. Is he outside your door? Grabbing the cool doorknob, you practically throw the door open, expecting to see him kneeling outside. When the hallway is exposed, there’s no one there. Sticking your head outside, you check to see if he was farther down the hall. Nope. It’s empty.

You see his room a few doors down, and realise he’s just that noisy.

Straightening your posture and taking a deep breath, you trudge towards his abode. Knocking lightly on the door, you call out to him, “A-are you okay in there?” All noises cease, leaving you in suspense. Putting your ear against the door, you try to listen in to see if he dropped dead or if he was walking towards the door. You hear nothing, and prepare to pull away, only for the door to open, making you fall forward. Two warm arms catch you with a quickness, before you’re dragged into the dark room, and tossed onto a very comfortable bed.

You bounce once you hit the mattress, only to be pinned down in an instant. He noses your throat, ghosting over your scent glands. His tongue laps at your neck greedily, trying to taste your skin on his tongue. N’Doul’s large, Rough hands grope at the fat of your hips, trailing up to your breasts. He seems to be trying to get a reaction out of you, but all you do is cringe.

The pills haven’t fully kicked in yet, so you’re very uncomfortable under the rough treatment the Alpha is giving you. Noticing this, he growls in annoyance, “Don’t act shy, Darling. I’ll make you feel good if you make me feel good,” Did he truly mistake your discomfort for timidity?

“I, uhm,” He silences you with a heated kiss, both of your spit mixing together, much to your disgust. His fingers pull and prod at your blouse covered nipples, twisting slightly to elicit a reaction. A gasp leaves your lips, as you try to remove his hands. The medicine was slowly, but surely starting to work, making your breasts more sensitive than usual.

He grips the material of your shirt with two fingers, a small snarl coming from his lips, “I want this off. If you want to keep it, you better strip fast,” You practically throw your shirt over your head, moving as fast as you can. Your best friend had given you his shirt years ago, and you’ve used it as a sleep shirt ever since.

A small smile decorates his harsh features, as he is finally able to feel your skin against his. He squeezes your breasts, loving the feeling of your fat between your fingers. You try not to look, hoping to zone out the entire session, but the rapid heat appearing in your tummy is making it very hard to do so.

“I can’t wait until these are filled with milk, your Alpha might have to have a taste for himself,” A gasp leaves your lips at his erotic words, especially when his lips connect with your right nipple. He suckles on it like a child, whilst toying with the hem of your panties. With one swift movement, he shucks them down your legs without separating from your chest.

A loud moan escapes your throat, as he starts to toy with your puffy pussy. The waxing from the night before makes you more sensitive than normal, eliciting all the right reactions. He removes himself from your chest, bringing your panties to his nose, breathing in your slick.

“Such a yummy and cute little Beta, no wonder everyone everyone confuses you for an Omega,” He licks the seat of your panties, practically cumming in his drawers at your taste, “Fuck, you even taste fertile. Does your little womb want my cum, Darling? Want me to pump a cute baby into you?” His words send another wave of heat to your core, causing your slit to gush out your arousal.

“Yes, yes please! Please fill me up!” He smirks at your neediness, and he shoves your legs apart. The smell of your arousal permeates the room, causing the large man to choke on his own spit.

“Oh my, your pussy smells so good,” N’Doul practically dives between your legs, sniffing at your dripping pussy. Your hands reach down and grip at his black locks, practically begging him to eat you out.

“Please lick my pussy! I was to take your knot,” He starts to kitten lick at your clit, causing tour hips to buck into his face, smearing your arousal over his chin and nose. He moans, loving the thought of everyone knowing that he belongs to you.

“Such a Good Girl, in no Time, we’ll have a cute pup running around. Then I’ll fuck another one into you, giving them a sibling to hang out with,” You keen at his words, especially when he inserts two fingers into you at once. He scissors them at a fast pace, sucking on your clit harshly. Your cunt gushes in your first orgasm, making your back arch and a scream leave your lips, “What a good Darling, loosen up so I can fuck you full.”

He adds two more into your cunt, your pussy sucking his fingers with an iron grip. His hips rut into the mattress below, as he brings you to a second release.

“I’m gonna stuff you full, keep you locked on my knot. My Darling Beta, my cute cumslut,” he withdraws his hand from your heat, making you whine. But, he’s quick to shut you up with another heated kiss. Pushing your knees back, he puts you into a mating press. With one hand he keeps you in that position, and the other pushes his drawers off of his hips, kicking them off onto the floor.

Lining his tip to your slick hole, he dips it in, testing the waters. When he feels your ring of muscle practically pulling you in, he can’t help but slam his entire length into you, causing you to scream out in both pleasure and pain. His tip rams into your cervix harshly, trying to access your deepest point.

He doesn’t give you time to adjust, and starts to roughly fuck into you. His heavy balls slap against your ass in a rhythmic fashion, whilst he forced your knees by your head.

“Fuck, your sloppy cunt is taking me so well. I love the way you gush around my cock,” You can’t say anything, too overwhelmed with pleasure. Your mouth falls open, eyes rolling back into your head. Pathetic moans rattle your chest, as he smashes himself as close as he can to you, “Don’t worry, Beta, your Alpha will fill you up nicely. I’ll make you round with my baby, I’ll give you pretty milky tits, and I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life!”

He picks up his pace, trying to draw out more noises and slick to help him force his way in. His knot is quickly forming at the base of his cock, and it pulls almost painfully at the opening of your slit.

“A-Alpha, I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum!” He smiles at your admission, starting to force his knot inside.

“Good Beta, cum around your Alpha’s knot,” N’Doul forces his entire weight onto you, bucking his hips even harsher than before.

His knot catches on your opening one more time, before breaching your drooling cunt. He ruts into you for a few moments longer, before his knot hardens fully, breaching the opening of your womb, locking himself inside of you.

The feeling of him knotting you causes you to squirt, your release just barely slipping past your stuffed opening, painting his abs with your cum. He forces his mouth onto yours, as his seed pumps into you in thick spurts. He fills you up so much, that you feel bloated, your tummy poking out a little bit more than normal. N’Doul Real esse your legs, letting you settle into a comfortable position, his warm hand lays on your stuffed womb.

“My beautiful mate, I’m so happy you accepted me. We’ll have the best pups, I’ll make sure none of you want for anything. Fuck, why’re you squeezing me so harshly?”

You whine in both pain and pleasure, laying your forearm across your eyes, “I think I need to go to the hospital. Betas aren't meant to take knots, and you’re currently deep in my womb,” He scrambles to pull himself out, only to yank on your womb harshly, making a small scream of pain escape your lips, and tears dot your eyes, “No! No! Not right now, oh god, that hurts so bad!”

His moment of post nut clarity, brings him to kiss your face with multiple tender kisses.

“It’s okay, Darling, we’ll patch you up soon. Maybe Dio will have a drug to make this less painful for you.”

You stare up at the ceiling with dread, the pills he gave you makes you feel good, yes, but the pain of no longer having freedom and a knotted cock in your womb is enough to make you sick.

Hopefully your kid will be cute. Because, if not, you don’t know what you’ll do.

#yandere n'doul #yandere n'doul x reader #n'doul x reader #yandere jjba #yandere jjba x reader #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere omegaverse #omegaverse #jjba omegaverse

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alinktoana · 2 years

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~ spoilers for yakuza 0 ~ 4

You know how Daigo has been kinda involved in the yakuza world ever since he was a fetus, and Saejima joined in as a teen? Well, imagine it Majima had joined the Shimano family as a child? This is is a very important part of my Yakuza 0,5 ~project~, and I was obsessed with kid Majima for a while lol I know it doesn’t visually matter as much, but to me it’s a big part of the background motivations and personality traits Majima has on yakuza 0. A lot of people who began with 0 wonder why Majima went insane, others say he’s a villain. Not to be that one who is usually really villains (aka my past self being obsessed with Hannibal and Kylo Ren), Majima *is not* a villain. I understand why some people would say that after having played ps2 yakuza 1, but I feel like RGG didn’t know what to do with him yet so Kiryu and Majima’s interactions are basically Batman + Joker.

But I digress lol Majima basically growing up in the yakuza makes so much sense to me. I’m still not 100% on the how, but my headcanon is 12yo Majima as the kid who crunches numbers for a hotel the Shimano family build to do some money-laundering, and eventually he started dealing drugs (like adhd meds) to other kids in his high school. All that while having a pretty normal childhood, or at least as far as he was concerned. The hotel part is a big deal in the development of his sense of style (think Kamurocho Hills, more on his building motivations on a later day lol).

I still don’t know what to do with his parents. I’m mostly inclined with him being from a poor family with many children and wanting to join so he wouldn’t be another mouth to be fed, and eventually sending them money. That Shimano would actually be an ok father figure, kinda like Kazama, but obviously more deranged. I also like the idea of Shibusawa being around the office and first getting to know Majima when he was a kid as well. Other than ~being sponsored by the Yakuza, I’d gather Majima has a pretty normal childhood, always on the baseball team, even playing the big national high school leagues. Because his activities are more on the ~assistant to the regional manager, he wouldn’t be involved in bloody fights, Shimano would make sure of that, but he would still use him as a mule in high school, he had plenty of time to be a child. Just. A little on the stricter upbringing side because being the surrogate child of a crime boss does things to a person (again, think Ryuji, Daigo, Kiryu, Nishiki and Yumi). Also it’s crucial to his relationship with Saejima bc, in Majima’s eyes, he finally got a buddy, a friend who understands what it is like being a teen in the intensely traditional adult male world of the yakuza, so they became friends real quick, Majima showing him the ropes and Saejima just being his sane self lol they’re such a nice combo <3 I’ve been meaning to draw more kid Saejima as well.

But that’s just an idea lol I really like the idea of bringing the smuggler and his love for baseball to his childhood days too.

#majima #goro majima #ballpoint pen #markers #RGG #yakuza headcanons #baseball #taiga saejima #saejima #friendship #satoshi Shimano #Shimano #shimano family #tojo clan #yakuza #yakuza games #yakuza 0.5 #alinktoana

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spnfanficpond · 3 years

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Pond Diving - negans-lucille-tblr

Welcome to today’s Pond Diving Spotlight! We hope that you enjoy this little insight to our members and perhaps even find some useful tips for your own writing. Happy reading!

Want to volunteer, send us an ask! We’re looking forward to learning more about all of you! Not sure what PD is, you can learn more here.

“Don’t Be Koi About It” - All About You

Name: Bee

Age: 27

Location: Wales, UK

URL: @negans-lucille-tblr

Why did you choose your URL: I had 0 intentions of using my tumblr, as I was posting on AO3 at the time. My user on there used to be negans-lucille, so when I joined tumblr I added the tblr on the end as n-l was taken. And that is how my ridiculous username was born and I’ve regretted it ever since :’)

What inspired you to become a writer: I have a dissociative disorder called Maladaptive Daydreaming, which, put simply, is excess and intensive daydreaming. I live in a dream world 95% of my life, and I realised it was nice to curb that into writing. I wrote my first book at 12, and my English teacher at the time and now friend, encouraged me to keep writing. And now here we are :)

How long have you been writing: I’ve been writing fiction since I was 12, and I ventured into fanfiction at 14 for the McFly fandom (my favourite band). I wrote for them for 7 years before taking a break and coming back to FF with Negan.

What do you do when you are not writing i.e. Job/Hobbies etc? I am the company director at my family business, but I now only work part time as I have a 2 year old son. When I’m not writing or looking after him, I enjoy writing and playing music, playing board games (huge board gamers in this house), and watching crime documentaries mainly.

How long have you been in the SPN Fandom? I joined in 2019, but it’s like I’ve always been here. I am very late to the party, but I at least got to watch the finale at the same time as the rest of the world luckily!

Are you in any other fandoms and do you write for them? The Walking Dead, Walker and The Boys (they are givens I feel) and I dip my toe into Marvel and write for all of those characters (Sometimes) Other fandoms I don’t/no longer write for are McFly, The 1975, Red Dwarf & Harry Potter

Do you do any writing outside of fanfiction? If so, tell us about it? I have written a book called Who Said Love is Perfect? The book opens with the main protagonist, Xanthe being arrested for murdering her boyfriend Mark. The rest of the story is all the events leading up to Mark’s death, including his drug addiction, abusive behaviour, and his cousin Mikey who Xanthe takes quite the liking to…

I have also just finished turning my fic His Property into an original fiction to print and sell (depending when this is posted it might be available now!) and I’ve been working on turning Safe into an original fiction also. I prefer writing fanfiction, though - so that takes up the majority of my time!

Favorite published author: Malorie Blackman (I realise she’s a teen fiction writer but I still adore her)

Have you ever read a book that made an impact on your life? Which one and why?: Broken by Shy Keenan - it’s an autobiography about her horrific childhood, but the end of the book sees her finding peace and happiness and was incredibly uplifting. At the time it inspired me to believe things do get better - sorry that was a heavy answer 😅

Favorite genre of fanfic (smut, angst, fluff, crack, rpf, etc): Smut is definitely my home and anyone who has spoken to me for more than five minutes will know that. I am definitely not discreet about it - but there’s something to be said for a good bit of angst. Also I love putting a dark twist on most if not all of my work.

Favorite piece of your own writing: My Wincest series, “Normal” which you’ll find on my masterlist.

Most underrated fic you have written: Safe or Loyalties Lie

Story of yours that you’d most like to see turned into a movie/tv show: His Property

Favorite Tumblr Writer(s): @little-diable, @firefly-in-darkness and @kittenofdoomage

Favorite fic from another writer: Dirty Little Secret by @pink1031 has never left me alone.

Favorite character to write: Dark!Sam is always fun, as is Negan. But fluffy Dean might just take it.

Favorite Pairing to write: Almost all of my fics are reader insert, but if we’re going for OTP then J2 or Wincest

Least favorite character to write (and why): Castiel - purely because he has a very unique personality and I don’t feel I can capture it as well as other writers.

Do you have anyone you consider a mentor? Outside of Tumblr, my former English teacher, I wouldn’t be here without her. On tumblr - @kittenofdoomage is a sweetheart for answering all of my questions, I’ve definitely always looked up to her. But honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without @mummybear listening to me ramble about my fics 24/7 and helping me figure stuff out.

Do you have any aspirations involving your writing? I’d love to have a published fic and continue to do well with my fanfiction. One day I’d love to earn enough money from writing alone to not have to “Work”

How many work-in-progress stories do you have: I try and keep that number to one as I don’t like to spread my focus too thin. I have several ideas waiting to be written - maybe 8 or 9.

What are you currently working on? I’m currently writing the sequel to Absent, Too Close.

“Pond Diving” - All About The Writing

What/who has had the biggest influence on your writing? I recently read a Wincest fic on Ao3 called The Bright Lights of Disturbia, and that writer’s style really struck a chord with me, and I’ve found it’s really helped shape my writing into something better than before.

Best writing advice you've been given: Write what you’re inspired to. If you are on a roll but a scene isn’t working, make notes and come back to it. I’ve become a big fan of the square brackets. [they argue some more]. You can find and replace when you’re done :)

Biggest obstacle you’ve faced in your writing: The balance between pleasing myself and pleasing my audience. Writing for me and writing for notes/followers. We all want to do well with our writing, but we need to nurture our muse to keep it alive.

What aspects of writing do you find difficult when you write fanfiction? I really struggled with fluff for a long time, but when I had to stop writing smut for the month in Jan, I tackled a fluffy series, and now I’m far more comfortable with that genre. Writing canon within SPN is not my cup of tea, it stresses me out as I’m so bad with things like lore.

Is there anything you want to write but are afraid to (and why): I feel I’m pretty brave in what I’ll write. I used to be against writing real couples, but I had the urge to write something that’s Jenneel x Reader recently, so I broke my own rule and wrote some! It wasn’t as scary as I thought and I’m happy with the result!

What inspires/motivates you to write: My MaDD plays a big part, but also, my husband is a great cheerleader. All my followers and friends on here too - they are definitely the reason I keep writing and posting.

How do you deal with self doubt: Usually whine to my friends about it until I give myself a kick up the backside and remember that I am my worst critic. It’s never as bad as you might think it is.

How do you deal with writer's block: I force myself to write literally anything. Even - Once upon a time Sam was in the kitchen making a sandwich when Dean entered. Don’t be afraid for it to be terrible, you can edit and delete once you’ve unstuck yourself.

Do you plan/outline your story before you start: I don’t necessarily have a proper system. In the past I’ve totally winged one story but then planned chapter for chapter for the next story. My general process nowadays is to wing the first little while, having a general idea of how I want the story to go (it never works out that way), and then once I get more towards the end I might plan the remaining chapters as I’m anal about my stories ending on a chapter that’s a multiple of five 😅🤣

Do you have any weird writing habits: Not necessarily. Thanks to my MaDD I get ticks which means I’ll randomly put my laptop down, stand up, jump around the room and then sit back down. If anyone watched me when I’m alone they’d think I was insane 🤣 I also tend to pull the faces of my characters as I’m writing. Which means I’ve seductively bitten my lip at my computer screen many a time.

Have you ever received hateful comments on your fic and how do you deal with it? Oh yeah, a few. What everyone has to remember is that you are not going to please everyone all the time. We are all unique human beings with unique tastes and you and yours just might not fit someone else’s. That’s okay! And just remember that they are the one with the issue, enough to take time out to post something negative about you/your writing when they could’ve been far more productive with their time. Just keep doing you, and you’ll attract the type of people who do like you and your work.

Conversely: what’s been some of your favorite feedback on your fanfic? I love when someone reblogs with feedback almost as long as the fic, picking out sentences and phrases and commenting on them. I love when people articulate something that I was hoping to portray in a roundabout way because it proves I did my job correctly. People yelling at me is always fun too. I love to tease and I do love a cliffhanger. Some of my favourite feedback has come from @waywardbaby @donnaintx and @samwinchesterjaredjensen

If you could give one piece of advice to a new and/or struggling writer, what would it be? Don’t worry about what you think people want to read. Worry about what you want to write. Some of my best and most popular fics have been stories that were completely self indulgent. I think it shows in your writing that you enjoyed writing it. Especially as a new writer, I know the temptation to write what’s “popular” to build your following is strong, but if you always set out and write the type of stories you enjoy, you will build a following of people who enjoy reading those types of stories! As hard as it is to put into practice, try to not get bogged down in the idea that notes = quality of writing. That is not the case. Some of my favourite fics have a low note count, but are better than some fics I’ve seen/read that have 100s of notes 😘

#pond diving #spnfanficpond

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crazy4myself · 4 years

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No Harm List Pt. 1

Word Count: 6K

Warnings: Violence, explicit language, I’m sure this will get worse as we go

Summary: You live in a city where crime runs rampant. One day, you save a young boy’s life, not knowing that he is the most powerful crime lord's heir. And you have just been put on the no harm list.

a/n: this is my first fic and it's taken me near a year to get the balls to write and post it. I would like to make this a series or drabble series if people seem interested in reading more. Please let me know if you like it :)

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Let’s start from the beginning. Which was the night you saved the maknae’s life.

You were leaving your late-night shift at 929, the convenience store you worked at. The job, like the rest of your college experience, wasn’t in any way glamourous. But the owners were nice, and since it was a 24-hour store, it was easy to get hours despite your demanding college schedule; if you were willing to sacrifice sleep. It was a heavy stock day, so you were getting out later than planned, but you lived less than a mile from your apartment, so you didn’t mind the walk back.

Something was comforting about walking the 7th ward at 3 a.m. when the streets are the quietest. The late-night crowd from the gambling halls and bars always seem to turn in around 2, and the more motivated hustlers tend to wake up at 4 to get a head start on their day. The hour of 3 a.m. was a 60 minute breath of fresh air where few people roamed the streets. A common hour where criminals and businessmen alike hugged their pillows.

A chill lingered in the air the way it always does after a big rainstorm, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms. By the look of the sidewalks, you were going to get your socks wet on the walk home, thanks to the weakening seems on your only pair of boots.

You kept your pepper spray in one hand and your phone in your pocket as you made your way down the street. Just because 3 a.m. was a quieter hour did not mean it was safe, especially in the 7th ward. Staying aware of your surroundings gave people less of a chance to sneak up on you, so you didn’t check your phone or listen to music. You made yourself stare strait ahead and walk confidently. Seeming like more trouble than you or your wallet is worth, is one of your primary forms of self-defense on nights like these.

When you moved out of the university dorms after your freshman year, you told your family of your plans to share a house with a few friendly classmates in the quiet suburbs outside the city where it was safer, and that seemed to quell their worries. And as long as they weren’t worried about you, you were okay with lying to them.

Because you didn’t live in the suburbs with friendly classmates, you very much lived alone in a shitty apartment where you were fairly certain all your neighbors were drug dealers. But your landlord Mrs.Rita doesn’t seem to mind at all. To your knowledge, the location was in a gang neutral territory, so you didn’t need to worry about any raids or shootings that you hear talk of so often on the bus or at work.

You have lived in the 7th ward for the better part of three years. It was one of the dirtiest and most dangerous parts of the city capital, a place where gangs, drugs, violence, ruled the streets.

It was also the cheapest place to live and only a 20-minute commute from your university by public transport.

When you first got accepted into university, your parents were as happy for you as they were worried. The university had one of the top medical programs in the world, and to be accepted on scholarship was an honor even they couldn't overlook, but living across the ocean in a different country meant they lived with no peace of mind.

So you always kept your letters and phone calls short and pleasant. You never complained or let them know of any struggles you were having because the moment they got word of your hardships, they would latch onto that and convince you to come home.

You hadn’t made it eight blocks from the store when you heard someone cry out. It was a strangled sound that made you freeze in your tracks before it was quickly cut short.

The silence was accompanied by a low thud that made your stomach drop. Your heart pounded in your ears as possibilities raced through your mind. It could be some restless teens goofing off late at night, it could be something you can just stroll pass without a problem, but it was equally likely that it wasn’t. And you didn’t know what to do about that risk.

You debated turning around and going back to the store and hiding out for an hour or two until whatever happened settled down.

It was the sound of another cry out that broke you from the worrying debate as your instincts sent you flying in the direction of the sound. Because apparently, your instincts aren’t here to keep you alive.

You turned the corner and peered down the alley where the commotion was coming from to be met by a set of thugs corning a young boy. The thugs turned at the sound of your shoes scraping against the asphalt and sneered at you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You demanded as you took in the scene of two men and met eyes with the young boy with wide doe eyes who was pinned to the wall by the largest man in the group.

The boy had what looked to be the start of a black eye and a small trickle of blood running from his split lip. He looked a few years younger than you, and by the looks of the brand name on the sleeve of his shirt, he had no reason to be in this part of town.

“Keep walking, sweetheart before you see something you don’t want to,” one of the men, who was covered in tattoos, growled.

You felt your legs tremble as part of you wished to listen to him.

“Leave him alone,” you pushed in a voice that was much weaker than you intended.

What were you doing? Did you have a deathwish?

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the tattoos questioned voicing your own thoughts as his scrawny partner pushed off the wall stalked towards you.

“Do you think this going to go well for you?” Scrawny taunted as he closed the distance. You stepped back, making sure to keep your back to the mouth of the alleyway to avoid getting cornered to the wall.

“Get out of here,” the boy warned, you spared him a look to see Tattoos kneed him in the gut.

The boy's face twisting in pain served distraction enough for Scrawny to charge toward you and shove you toward the wall before you could react.

“I thought we told you to scram '' he sneered in an oily voice. One of his hands that was backing your figure against the wall reaching up to tug at a strand of your hair, “Or does a tiny thing like you want to play the hero?” you felt his hot breath on your face as he crowded you.

An involuntary squeak slipped from your lips, and your heart pounded as your mind begged you to do something quickly. You gripped the pepper spray tighter in your grip forcing yourself to react.

Before Scrawny could make another move, you held your breath and squeezed your eyes shut, wedging your arm between the two of you and pulling the trigger on your pepper spray while simultaneously bringing your knee up between his legs.

You yelped in pain as Scrawny pushed away from you, taking a lock of your hair with him, but forced your mouth to stay shut as he and howled in pain. A string of coughs and curses mixing in as he inhaled the pepper spray.

Opening your eyes to water in the residue of the mace in the air, you realized you must have hit your target because the man was no longer on his feet and slowly curling into a ball on the ground still hacking out a lung.

Tattoo’s cursed under his breath and pulled the boy off the wall by his shirt and slammed his body into the brick twice in frustration.

“I have to do everything around here!” He rorared. The sound of the boys body impacting aginst the wall echoed in the alley with Tatto’s scream.

Tatto’s reached in his back pocked and with a flick of the wrist displayed a wicked blade as the boy blinked up at him dazed.

You screamed out in horror. Desperate to get the man away from the boy, you pulled your shoe off your foot and lobbed it at the back of Tatto’s head.

With a growl, he released the boy who crumpled to the ground before turning his attention to you.

He looked down at the ground making a point to slowly toe your limp boot out of his path with a low chuckle before prowling forward a preditor cornering his prey.

You found his intimidation tactic to be very effective, you body telling him as much as you raised your pepper spray between you, hand trembling.

The man barked a laugh. “Go ahead, sweetheart, I put that stuff on my eggs for breakfast,” he taunted.

Under normal circumstances, you would call bullshit, but right now as he stalked towards you, you were willing to believe such an unorthodox diet.

Please be a thug and not a rapist, you found yourself begging in the back of your mind as he slapped the can out of your hand before you could even press down on the trigger.

“Now, I don’t like cutting up pretty girls, but you’re leaving me no choice sweetheart.” he warned as he crowded your space.

With a seemingly effortless flick of his wrist, he backhanded you across the cheek, the momentum sending you flying towards the ground. The smack of skin still rang in your ears as you landed hard on the asphalt palms stinging.

Tears welled in your eyes as Tattoo’s grabbed your hair by the roots and leaned to whisper in your ear. You felt the cool metal of the flat of the blade cress down your arm.

But no threats came.

Instead, you were tugged harshly to the side nearly faceplanting to the ground, and a scream ripped from your throat in the confusion as the knife clattered away.

You opened your eyes to see Tattoos on the ground next to you eyes rolling into his skull, and the boy you were ‘saving’ leaning over you.

“C’mon get up!” he grabbed your hand, pulling you onto your feet.

You winced as your hair untangled from Tattoo’s now limp grip, and you looked over to see the man had fallen on the ground with you blinking dazed as blood trickled from his temple.

“Run!” the boy ordered, keeping hold of your hand and dragging you out the alley and back up the street.

You trailed behind him clumsily at first, thrown off balance by your missing shoe. But it wasn’t long before you heard footsteps tromping behind you, and you magically regained your coordination with the new burst of adrenaline and fear.

“Don’t look back,” the boy huffed before you could spare a glance over your shoulder.

You ran a few more blocks before you saw the famier sight of your work.

“C’mon this way,” You pant taking the lead and pulling him into the alley by 929.

“We can’t-” you hushed him as he started to argue, pulling him behind one of the dumpsters as you heard the thugs run past you and turn the corner onto the next street.

The two of you sat in silence for an eternity of a minute, holding your breath as you made sure they didn’t come back. At that time, you realized you grossly underestimated the boy’s age. He didn’t look like a high schooler at all. Once you got past his wide round eyes you could see he was clearly your age.

He was handsome, and although his shirt near swallowed him, you could see the fabric stick to his defined biceps and what looked to be a solid stomach.

“I think we’re good,” he whispered, breaking you from a trance. He smiled at your startled expression.

“I’m Jungkook, by the way,” he said with a grin as he offered his hand. Grasping his hand, you responded with your own name as he helped you up from your crouch.

“I wouldn’t doubt it if they turn back around though, I wouldn’t doubt if there’s more than two of them. We need to get off the street,” he breathed, turning to you.

“I have a place” you offered, wondering why you were about to risk your employment for this stranger as you walked deeper in the alley to where the back entrance of 929 was.

“Please don’t touch anything,” you requested sheepishly as you unlocked the door. He cracked a small smile, which in turn cracked his lip as it started to well red with blood. You need to get the first aid kit- you thought to yourself.

You entered the store and immediately locked eyes with your shift cover, Skip -the owner’s nephew. He was a lanky fellow about 1 year past due for a haircut, but he never gave you any trouble.

“What are you doing back here?” he questioned, eyeing you and Jungkook’s disheveled state.

“What are you doing back here? Why aren’t you on the floor?” you shot back, trying to appear calm. He scowled at you before returning to the register upfront.

You led Jungkook through the backroom to the small corner that was the ‘employees lounge’, a folding chair and cardtable that was half-covered in inventory documents and leaned a little too far to the left.

“Best stay in the backroom since the front of the store is made up of windows,” you said lightly before reaching for the first aid kit on a nearby shelf.

He watched you curiously as you shuffled through the dusty medical supplies. This can't be sanitary, you thought to yourself as you read through the expired labels with slight difficulty as your hands shook. You were just coming down from an adrenaline high, you told yourself stubbornly.

You settled on the hydrogen peroxide which didn’t look out of date just yet and poured some on the cleanest rag you could find. Willing your hand to hold steady before prodding it gently at the scratches on his face.

Jungkook tried to keep his expressions neutral, tried to keep his eyes staring past you and to the doorway to avoid studying every detail of your face. But he found himself failing as he watched you fall into the comfort of tending to his wounds.

He noticed the distraction was grounding you more than putting you on edge. And he wondered if you were experienced in this somehow as you reached for his hands to pick out the rubble and wrap his split knuckles.

When you started work on his hands he realized that he was shaking, and he flushed with embarrassment. You didn’t seem to notice or judge him at least. You inspected his hand with a trained eye overlooking the tremor and instead focusing on the swelling on his wrist.

Fractured, you wondered, watching his face cautiously as you gave an experimental turn. He flinched, confirming your suspicion, and you winced thinking about how you grabbed his arm to pull him into the alley.

“Thank you for helping me,” he said, finally breaking the silence, “and for this.” He ended awkwardly, pulling his hand from your grasp and gesturing to the rag in your hand and the first aid kit.

“Oh,” you let out not knowing how to respond to such a situation, “umm you’re welcome I mean anyone would-”

“They wouldn’t,” he cut you off with another cheeky grin, “but I’m glad you did. Although I’m sorry, you had to.” you nodded in response all words lost as you flushed unsure of what to do with yourself you shuffled through the first aid kit.

“Wait, wait, we didn’t get you,” he murmured, taking your hand and gently turning it palm up to reveal the scattered scratches.

He stood from the chair maneuvering you so you could be seated instead, before helping himself to the first aid kid. He picked out a few bits of gravel before carefully dabbing the scrapes to clean them, and reaching for the thin white strips of gauze. Wrapping your hands in a way, he saw you wrap his own.

You smiled amused, while it was a little unnecessary to wrap your hands, the cuts on his were much deeper than your own. You appreciated the gesture. You couldn’t remember the last time someone tended to your wounds.

“Now Cinderella, let’s take a look at that foot,” he said with a teasing smile as he crouched down, reaching for your ankle.

Panic flew through you as you pulled your foot away with an embarrassing squeal. “No need, it’s fine. I swear,” you flushed.

He looked at you, amused, “Everyone has feet, it’s fine,” he taunted, reaching for your soggy sock.

“I know, I know, but please,” you gasped. “I’m ticklish, and I will squirm,” you warned.

“I think I can handle it.”

“No, you can’t. I don't want to hurt you. I think your wrist is broken,” you accused in your desperation to deflect.

Jungkook looked up at you with a faltering smile argument dying on his lips. And you tried to amend yourself as your rambled, “Or fractured at least, the swelling indicates that-”

“You’re a doctor?” he questioned, looking pleasantly surprised.

“No, not yet, at least. I’m in school, but not far enough to help you. We should really get you to the hospital to get it taken care of, and who knows what state your ribs are in.” you said, looking down as he still kneeled on the ground. You wondered how he wasn’t showing any sign of discomfort, even with adrenaline in his system he should be in some pain.

“Oh no, no hospital” he argued quickly, and you raised an eyebrow at him suspiciously “If you let it heal wrong it’ll-”

“I’ll have a friend take me, I don’t want you to go through that trouble” you looked at him unimpressed but didn’t push you knew when a fight was a lost cause.

“Well, are you going to call a friend or a cab to pick you up, I’m not letting you just walk out there to die after risking my life for you.” you teased. He rolled his eyes at the statement but agreed he should call someone.

You wandered a little closer to the front of the store to give him a sense of privacy as he made his call. You felt a twinge of pain in your ankle as you got up and reached down to tug your sock off. You wondered if you rolled it in your heroic flee earlier.

You frowned down at your wet sock. You can’t belive you just threw you boot like that. They weren’t in the best condition, but they were the best pair your had. The closest thing to water resistant. The last bits of Spring were going to suck without them.

Then you shamelessly wondered if you could go back to the alley to grab it, once you and Jungkook parted ways.

As you assess yourself for an injury and mourned your lost boot, you couldn’t help but overhear Jungkook’s conversation. It seems he called a friend instead of a cab. What stood out to you was his tone of voice when he spoke.

You know there is no easy way to tell a friend you got mugged, some dumb girl interfered, and now you were hiding out in the back of a convenience store, but he had a tone of... professionalism? As if he were calling his boss and informing him of a missed deadline. He spoke efficiently and made odd references as if he were speaking in a code of some kind.

It never occurred to you at any point this evening that Jungkook could be dangerous. Sitting alone with him in the back of the shop, he gave off such a warm and inviting presence that you never questioned what he was capable of. You just assumed he was the victim of a mugging.

But now, taking in his clothing, how he spoke to his ‘friend’ on the phone, and the way he refused to go to the hospital, you start to wonder just who you let in the store.

“Did you need to call someone?” you jumped as his voice broke your trail of thought, and he looked at you apologetically.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I just thought you may wanna call a cab yourself” he offered

You worried your lip as you looked at the idle screen of your own phone, and your mind drew a blank at who you could call.

You had friends, just no one you could call at 4:30 a.m. on a school night and ask for a ride to your apartment that was less than two miles away. You really didn’t want to pay for a cab either. The thought of sitting in a vehicle with a stranger sounds less than ideal, not to mention the cab fare in the area was ridiculous and you might have a new pair of boots to save up for.

Finally, sighing, you looked up at him with a teasing smile, “I was just going to head home once I know you're safe,” you said, trying your best to make your voice seem light.

Jungkook smiled but not out of humor.

“You’re joking, right? Look, I’m not trying to sound disrespectful, but you really shouldn’t be out there like that this late.”

You scrunch your nose in displeasure, and before you could kindly remind him, it was nearly 5 o’clock in the morning, and was you who saved his ass just over an hour ago he pushed forward.

“Those guys saw your face just as much as mine. It’s not safe to be out tonight; you have no clue if they're lurking.”

You felt a small chill of fear go through you, and you couldn’t help yourself from asking, “Did you know them? What did they want from you?”

He looked uneasy at your question, and you wondered if saving him might have unexpected consequences. “No, no, I didn’t know them, or why they mugged me; they probably wanted my wallet or something,” he finally said with a shrug, but it didn’t feel like the truth.

“Jungkook do-”

“Hey, let me give you a ride home.”

You were caught off guard by his offer, but as he continued to plead with you and reminded you of all the dangers of walking home, you took him up on his request. And half hoping maybe in your time together you could get the truth out of him.

You tried to act normal while you waited with him for his friend to come to pick the two of you up.

You considered thinking of an excuse to get out of the ride home, but he never did anything to you to prove he wasn’t trustworthy. You told yourself you were just paranoid after such a jarring experience. Jungkook was probably as worked up as you were after all.

Then the car pulled up. It was sleek black and with a soft purring engine that looked out of place on the west side of the city. You looked between the car and Jungkook trying to determine if he was rich or a criminal as the passenger side window rolled down revealing the most stunning man you’ve ever seen, that looked at you in a way that had you pulling at the edge of your work polo to smooth out the wrinkles.

“Get in loosers we’re going shopping,” he said in fake enthusiasm.

You didn’t know how to react to the outdated Mean Girl’s reference, and he laughed at your dumbfounded expression before deadpanning, “I’m kidding, but seriously Kook please get your friend in the car before we get shot. The area isn’t secure,” his flat tone contrasting with the carefree rectangular smile he punctuated his sentence with.

Jungkook cursed under his breath before putting his good hand against your lower back to urge you into the backseat of the car before sliding in behind you.

As you made your way into the fine vehicle, you were very aware of your missing shoe and haggard appearance. You worried you may soil the interior permanently.

The car took off as soon as Jungkook slid in the back behind you. And Jungkook pulled the door shut with a curse as the car started rolling.

You looked up to see the driver was an equally beautiful man.

You weren’t one to compare humans to higher beings. However, you were very aware that you were sitting in the car with a Greek god and his angel best friend. Saints were you in some kind of beautiful men only AU? You needed to find a way out before your heart exploded.

You curse yourself for thinking so shallowly when you may not even be in the clear of a life-threatening situation just yet.

But you noticed you were sitting behind the angel in the driver’s seat, and as far as you were concerned, that was a pretty good position to be in, in the case of a kidnapping. They would have a hard time holding you hostage if you had your hands around their driver’s throat.

“These are my friends Jimin and Taehyung,” Jungkook introduced as you both buckled. “Guys, this is... Cinderella,” Jungkook says, stretching out his words as he thought. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow as the angel Jimin let out a laugh, the sound as pure as bells.

Taehyung turned around with a challenging glint in his eye, and your stomach dropped as you recognized his face. “Is that what you go by, princess?” He taunted, and you squirmed under his gaze.

“Do you two know each other?” Jungkook asked, brows furrowed.

“We go wayyy back,” Taehyung, who up until now you knew as V, teased. Jungkook looked at you expectingly.

“He’s uh- he’s my dealer,” you said quietly as you stared at your lap, “nothing heavy just some Adderall during finals season,” you amended flushing.

It was true, although your interactions were brief until tonight, you didn’t even know his real name. You just knew him as the guy in the hoodie that hung out behind the Mexican restaurant, not too far off-campus, that went by V. He wore a mask any time you met probably to hide such a distinct smile, but the moment you heard his voice, you recognized him.

“And mid-term season, and test week, and group projects, and -”

“We get it, Tae,” Jimin said with a warning to his tone cutting the dealer off in his listing.

The car fell into a tense silence before your body was once again lurched into the car door from Jimin taking another tight turn, and the motion helped you gather your wits.

“Are we going to the hospital?’ you asked, confused about how confidently Jimin was driving despite not knowing your address.

“No, we’re taking a few laps around town before we drop you off just in case we have anyone following you guys, you don’t want your friends from earlier to know where you live” Jimin offered. The confidence in his voice suddenly made you uncomfortable as you realized they may be experienced in this situation.

“Why would we go to the hospital; are you injured?” he followed concern bleeding into his voice. Taehyung turned around in his seat to asses you for himself, lips quirking at the sight of your missing shoe.

“No, Jungkook is his wrist-”

“Is fine, I'll have someone look at it when we get to the house” Jungkook cut you off with a warning look.

Teahyung laughed “You’re getting an earful tonight brother.” he teased as Jimin took a sharp turn lurching your body into the door.

“I- umm I would like to go home as soon as possible, please,” you asked weakly as you saw the first rays of the sun were starting to paint the buildings.

Jimin’s eyes flashed towards you in the rearview mirror, concerned, “I really do promise to get you home safely, princess, but to do that, please let me do my job first and then this night will be over.” he assured his voice warm and confident. And while part of you believed he truly did plan to get you home safe tonight the rest of your mind was immediately set on high alert by his kind words

Forty-odd minutes later, you found yourself deep in the upper east side of the city where all the houses had tall iron fences, and the yards were decorated with fountains. By the time you gave Jimin the address of your apartment, the streets were beginning to come to life with the weekday morning traffic.

“How long have you been staying there Ella?” Tae asked, recognizing Mrs.Rita's establishment.

“I’ve actually been living there for about 3 years now. It’s a dump, but I’m broke, so what can you do.” you offered tiredly as you leaned against the window unphased by your new nickname.

Throughout the car ride, Taehyung’s names for you went from Cinderella to Ella, to El. Jimin stuck with calling you Princess, however, it didn’t feel like an insult coming from his lips.

Throughout the ride, Jungkook and Tae had done an excellent job of calming your nerves and keeping you distracted. Tae had been going on and on about which coffee shop was the best one, and you were pleased when he agreed that your favorite shop served the best dirty chi in town.

‘Tae has a talent for finding everything dirty in this town’ Jimin had teased before receiving a smack on the shoulder from the younger.

You think you might have heard Tae ask a follow-up question, or perhaps he was talking to Jungkook as you listened to the rumble of his response. But all you could focus on were the manicured lawns of the east side and fighting the heavyweight of your eyelids against the morning sun.

“Ella,” Jungkook sang lightly, giving your shoulder a small shake.

You blinked blearily at him as your surroundings slowly came to focus, and you remembered where you were. You sat up with a gasp, immediately cursing yourself for falling asleep in a car full of strange men.

“Your castle awaits Princess,” Jimin offered as they rolled up to the complex, and you realized Tae was no longer in the front seat next to him. He must have gotten dropped off on your way to the Westside.

You looked around in shock. They really didn’t kidnap you.

Jimin let out a startled laugh and you realized you accedntly voiced your surprise. You flushed and thanked him for the ride while Jungkook slid out the car rushing around the back and opening the door to help you out, ever the gentleman.

“I wanted to thank you… again” Jungkook said shyly as he walked you to your door, you hand on his arm as if he truly were escorting a lady.

“I- its no problem.” You said, unsure of how to go on with the attention.

“Why didn’t you tell them my real name?” you asked as you ascended the stairs.

“I didn’t want to violate your privacy like that, you were in a car full of strange men. That’s stressful enough” Your heart warmed at his kindness.

“But you walking me to my door and knowing where I live should put me at ease?” you challenge as you came to a stop in front of your apartment. Jungkook flushed as he looked around, noticing just how exposed the complex is. He didn't like that the area wasn’t gated, and the entrances were outside like a cheap motel.

“I suppose I didn’t think that through” he shrugged.

“Just remember I have pepper spray, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

He chuckled before you both fell into an awkward silence, not knowing how to say goodbye, and for a brief moment, you realized neither of you wanted to.

“Well, I better-”

“Yeah yeah definitely,” he agreed, scratching the back of his neck.

“You have a good night or morning,” he offered with a smile as you unlocked your door and parted ways.

-----------

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you remember when your alarm went off at 10 a.m. and deciding you were going to skip your classes and sleep in.

You were in need of a ‘mental health’ day more than ever after the night-morning, you had. It was near 2 p.m. when you finally cracked your eyes open. Hunger and the need to relieve yourself finally dragging you from your sleep. You stumbled aimlessly as you took care of your body’s needs and even entertained a shower.

But after the shower, you were at a loss. You didn’t know what to do of yourself. At one point you checked your temperature to try to determine if it was all a fever dream, but the gauze on your hands and the bruise on your cheek confirmed you did, in fact, whip a thugs ass last night and got your own ass handed to you as a result.

After further investigation, you found that your left boot was still missing and wondered if you could find it if you searched for it on your way to work in the evening.

After an hour of contemplation, you decided you had to move on with life. One night of adventure wasn’t going to change your reality.

You were still a student in the throes of pre-med school, you still have responsibilities and assignments. And while last night’s adventure will be a great tale to share with some friends over drinks at the pub on Friday night, it was Wednesday afternoon, and you still had assignments to do.

You set up you work space telling yourself you wouldn’t put more than three things on your to-do list this afternoon. Before you decided you much rather water your plants and clean your apartment then attempt to study. It was a mental health day after all.

You indulged in putting on the old jazz record you dad mailed you for Christmas your freshman year. At the time, you didn’t have the heart to tell him you didn’t even have a record player, so you put away a little money for every paycheck until you could find a cheap used one at a rummage store.

You're sure the quality isn’t the best. Still, you’re also sure you have never heard a more beautiful sound than the day you finally dropped the needle on the disk and listened to the familiar tune.

And while you have since gotten other records, this one remains your favorite, because it always reminded you of home. You were singing along in a terrible impression of the musician, for your own entertainment as you made your bed and finally put away the pile of clean laundry you had been cuddling on your bed for the pst two weeks. When you heard a rapid knock at your door.

You called out as you made your way to your door, surprised by the unexpected guest.

Perhaps your music was too loud. Perhaps your singing was too loud and your neighbors wanted to complain. You were mortified by the thought.

You opened the door apology on your lips when you saw nothing but the covered the breezway. Perhaps it was some brat pranking you, you thought to yourself bitterly. But as you went to close your door, you saw a small parcel sitting on the ground outside. Picking up the box there was a small note attached that merely said:

For Cinderella: Thanks :)

Taking it inside, you opened the box carefully to find a shiny new pair of black boots. Much finer than the ones you owned before. The leather was soft and polished, and the laces were crips. And dare you say, they were much more fashionable than your old pair. Curiously you tried them on to find that they were your exact size.

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

The Bangtan family believed in life debts, it was one of the few traditions that they valued enough to maintain and honor. If someone were to save a member's life, that person no matter their class, status, or gang affiliation, was added to the ‘No Harm List.’ A very short but sacred list of individuals the Bangtan family went out of their way to protect and ensure the safety of from their gang as well as any others in the area.

The life debt was not paid by just the member who was saved, but the entire family. And while no life-debt could be valued more than another, the entire Bangtan family was quickly made aware of the new princess of the lower west side. Rumor spread of Cinderella and how you saved the maknae, heir to the family dynasty’s life.

“I don’t think this counts as paying your life debt,” Suga sighed as he put the car in park in front of your apartment complex.

“I’m not trying to pay it off! You can't do that. This is to thank her, now please go set it by her door. She can’t know it was from me!,” Jungkook pleaded to his elder.

“Who else would buy her shoes?” the elder challenged with a raised eyebrow.

Jungkook didn’t reply but merely stared at him pleadingly, his doe eyes reflecting the cosmos.

Suga sighed as he unbuckled his seat belt thinking of 100 more important things he should be doing right now before making his way up the concrete stairs to your apartment. He heard soft jazz music seeping through the door, accompanied by a terrible impression of Louis Armstrong. Which made him huff with laughter as he set the package down and knocked on your door, pulling his cap down as he strolled back to his vehicle.

-> Pt. 2

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avengerscompound · 3 years

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Until the End of the World - 10

Until the End of the World: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 1801

Rating: E

Warnings: pregnancy

Synopsis: Four years after Steve and Bucky got to the bottom of the HYDRA conspiracy that had led to you and your son being hunted for the first three years of his life, you, Bucky, and Steve have carved out a nice life together. Things are calm and you feel like a family unit. When Geo starts calling Bucky and Steve ‘dad’, a decision is made to try and add to your family.

Things aren’t as calm as they seem. When your pregnancy hits the papers, HYDRA rears its head once again, and Steve and Bucky need to track you down to protect the family they had created.

Chapter 10

The tabloid sites all latched on to the story of you being pregnant very quickly. Due to the fact you were often seen out with either Bucky or Steve or both, there had been speculation about who exactly you were. Theories went from dating one and cheating on them with the other. Being a ‘close family friend’. Dating one and the other being a close friend. Bouncing between them both like a ping-pong ball. Many fans speculated that they were polyamorous. Bucky had even made the mistake of going deep into the ‘Avengers fandom’ and discovered people doing what they called ‘shipping’ the three of you together. Not just the three of you but him and Steve with all kinds of people. He’d stopped looking when he saw people writing stories about him and Tony together. It turned out there were things he was better off not knowing.

None of the tabloids ever assumed polyamory though, and neither he nor Steve was going to confirm it for them. That made your pregnancy the subject of a lot of speculation. Whose baby was it? The most loved version of the story was that it was Bucky’s love child conceived while you were cheating on Steve with him.

It was a little stressful, but Bucky had heard worse. There was still a vocal majority that considered him a threat that should have been tried for his crimes years ago. Bucky had learned a long time ago not to google himself unless he was feeling particularly self-destructive. You, on the other hand, were still learning, so it took some reassuring that this matter was no one else's business.

Besides the ever-present gossip mill, things were going well. Every doctor's appointment showed that the baby was developing well. All the tests you had were coming back fine. You seemed to be full of energy and Geo was starting to get excited about the idea of having a little brother or sister. The new place was nearly finished. Bucky hadn’t been sent on a mission for a long time. He felt happy - and that was a feeling he liked to experience as fully as he could because he knew from experience how fleeting it could be.

The three of you had decided to take Geo along to the ultrasound where you’d be finding out the sex. He had only seen pictures of the baby so far and you’d thought he might like to see them moving around and find out if he was having a brother or a sister. According to you, the baby was kicking a lot at the moment, so you weren't worried about bad news being delivered.

Geo sat on Bucky’s lap while Steve sat beside you, holding your hand as the technician squeeze the gel onto your stomach. “Have they been kicking much?” Brown asked as she began to move the wand around on your stomach. Bucky looked up at the screen, waiting for the baby to come into view.

You smiled and nodded. “So much. The little nugget is going to be a fighter.”

Brown smiled. “Just like it’s dads, huh?” She said. “Has anyone else felt the kicks?”

“Not yet,” Steve answered. “I can’t wait though.”

The baby came into view on the screen. You’d been getting pretty regular ultrasounds with your checkups and Bucky liked how the little blob was getting bigger and looking more like a baby every time. “It shouldn’t be too much longer. I’d bet by the end of the week you get a little flutter against your hand.”

Steve looked at Bucky and grinned and Bucky couldn’t help but lean over and peck his lips. Geo didn’t seem that happy with the action and he wriggled in Bucky’s lap. Bucky chuckled and pulled back. “Can you see the baby, G?” He asked, pointing at the screen.

Geo nodded. “The machine is really cool how it works. It’s using sound to make the shape of the baby inside mom.”

“That’s right,” Brown said. “You’re a smart kid.”

Geo looked up at Bucky and grinned obviously very proud of himself. Bucky smiled and ruffled his hair.

“If you see here,” Brown said. “This is the baby's head, and their spine. They have hands and feet and you can even see their toes and fingers…”

Geo watched on fascinated by the digital image of his new sibling. Not just because that was his new sibling, but because he had a scientific fascination with where it was developmentally and how the machines could show what they show. He asked lots of questions about whether it could hear or see and how it absorbed food. Bucky couldn’t really remember what kids were like, and so he had no idea if this was advance thinking for a seven-year-old or not. He felt like it was advanced though, and he made a mental note to ask you later.

“Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?” Geo asked.

“I can find out,” the tech said. “Is that okay, Captain Rogers?”

Steve chuckled. “It’s not just my decision to make.”

Brown hid her face behind her hands for a moment and shook her head. “I’m so sorry, that is such a default reaction.”

“It’s fine,” Steve said. “Please just relax. We’re just patients. And yes, we already decided we wanted to find out.”

She moved the wand around to get it into position. “Well, bud,” Brown said. “Did you have a preference?”

“I dunno,” Geo said. “I don’t have either.”

“Well you don’t have a brother,” Brown said. “You’re going to have a little sister.”

“It’s a girl?” Bucky asked, looking over at you and Steve to see your reactions. Steve looked like he’d been lit up from the inside, and tears had pricked your eyes.

“That’s right. It’s a girl,” Brown confirmed.

“A little girl,” Steve said, softly.

“Now we have one of each,” Bucky said, and Geo turned around on Bucky’s lap and hugged him. Bucky closed his arms around the boy, hugging him tightly. “You’re gonna be such a good big brother,” Bucky whispered as he hugged the boy.

“Do you want any pictures this time?” Brown asked.

“Yes, please,” you said, quickly.

Brown cleaned off the paddle and pressed the button to print out the photos of the baby. You grabbed some kleenex from the counter and cleaned the gel off your stomach. “You think Morgan will be excited there’s going to be another little girl around?” Steve asked Geo.

“Probably,” Geo said. “As long as she likes robots too. Umm… you think the baby will be able to talk to the computers like I can?”

Steve furrowed his brow as he helped you up. Bucky shook his head to clear it. It was strange, despite the fact that Geo had powers that he’d clearly gotten from you, and the fact both he and Steve had the Super Serum, the thought of a super-powered baby had never really crossed their minds. It was like all that was just such a normal part of their lives now, they didn’t really think about how it impacted things. You didn’t have powers and it was possible the only reason Geo did was that both you and his father had been through experimentation so close to his conception. It could be that those drugs were now completely out of your system, but no one had thought to look into that first.

“You know what?” Steve said eventually. “I don’t know.”

“Probably should have considered that before we dived in with both feet, huh?” You said.

“You could ask your obstetrician about doing an amniocentesis,” Brown suggested. “Then they could do a genetic workup. Check for abnormalities.”

“Don’t they have risks involved?” You asked.

“Sure, but normally it’s one of those things where there are risks involved either way, and you decide which outcome is worse,” Brown explained.

You furrowed your brow and nodded and Bucky wondered what you were thinking. “Thank you, Miss Brown,” Steve said. “We’ll see you next time.”

“Of course,” she said, brightly. “See you.”

The four of you walked out into the ward and headed to the elevator. “I’m sorry if I upset you,” Geo said as the doors opened.

“You didn’t, G. Don’t worry,” you assured him, kissing the top of his head. “It’s just not something we thought about when we probably should have. Because you got your powers from me and your birth dad, but Bucky and Steve have their own powers.”

“Well, we’re enhanced,” Steve corrected them. “Not the same as what you have.”

“I think…” Bucky said slowly, aware that this was not a discussion that should be held in front of Geo, but also knowing that the boy needed to be reassured that his powers were not a negative, nor would he be losing the sister he really only just met. “I think it might be too late to worry about. I mean… what if they do find out the baby is enhanced? It’s not like we would love them any less, or not want them. They’d just be special, like Geo.”

“Of course,” you said quickly. “We would have done this either way I think.”

“So… let’s just wait and see. We don’t want to risk anything bad happening,” Bucky said. “The baby looks normal, so we know it’s not a tentacle beast.”

Geo started laughing. “That would be so cool.”

“She might not be able to talk to computers even if she does have powers though, G,” you said, stifling your own laugh. “When I had powers I could hear people’s thoughts. And your dad, he could run really fast.”

“Wow,” Geo said. “I hope she can fly.”

“Oh my goodness,” you said. “I don’t.”

“Yeah, imagine having to change a diaper on a baby and it’s zooming around over your head,” Bucky said, making Geo breakdown into fits of giggles.

“Alright, Geo,” Steve said. “You go wash up and we’ll have some lunch. Do you want to see if Morgan can come to play and you can tell her all about your sister?”

“Yeah, alright,” Geo said, running off to the bathroom.

Steve turned to you and Bucky and took your hands. “It’s going to be fine,” he said. “We can face whatever happens, I know we can.”

“Let’s just hope they can’t fly,” you joked.

“We’ll handle that too,” Steve said.

“Yeah, we’ll put a little harness on them, and weigh them down with rocks,” Bucky joked and you burst out laughing.

Steve wrapped his arms around you and pulled Bucky in close so that all three of you were holding each other. Bucky closed his eyes and breathed you both in, confident that together, you could all handle whatever powers she may or may not have.

// NEXT

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #pregnancy #until the end of the world

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highonchocolate · 4 years

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Take Two: The Guardian in Gotham Chapter 3

First Previous Next Ao3

Bruce sat at the head of the long oak dining table and waited for his children to make their way into the room for dinner. They came in as a staggered group; Jason arguing about some novel with Dick while Tim and Damian brought up the back as they discussed their patrol routes for the night. After Alfred and Damian helped serve the food, Bruce cleared his throat pointedly and waited for everyone to pay attention.

Once everyone had looked up from their discussions he spoke. “Alfred has a friend named Gina; and she had called this evening to see if her granddaughter could stay with us. She lives in Paris; but her classmates were bullying her and her parents thought a change of scenery would do her some good. I have agreed to let her stay with us in the Manor.” Even before he had finished speaking the table erupted with different questions from his children.

“Bruce are you sure this is wise?” Tim questioned over Dick’s ecstatic squealing (“I’ve always wanted a little sister!!!”), and Jason’s grumbling (“Shut the fuck up Dickhead. I don’t know why the fuck B is bringing someone into this house to live with this dysfunctional family.”). Ignoring his siblings; he pressed on “I mean, how are we going to hide Batman and the vigilante stuff from her?” As Bruce paused to answer Damian stood up and scowled. “Tt. This is a moronic decision. Inform me of when this girl is to arrive and inform her to stay out of my way.” He lifted his chin and crossed his arms before marching out of the room.

After Damian’s outburst, Jason looked over from where he was arguing with Dick and added his input “Timbo’s right, B. How are we going to hide that from her?”

“We’ll have to make sure at least two of you remain in the manor each night so that she doesn’t get too suspicious.” He answered. “Now, the only reason I agreed to letting her stay here was namely for Alfred, and also because of what her classmates did to her”

“What do you mean, Bruce?” Dick questioned. “Did they like assault her or something?”

“Or something” He responded grimly before sending the photo to all three of them.

As they looked at the photo, he observed their reactions to the image. Dick was not smiling for once, and his sunny blue eyes had darkened to an icy frost. His whole body was tense; and his jaw was so clenched his teeth were grinding together. Jason was standing up with two guns locked and loaded in his hands. He had also managed to procure a knife from somewhere, which appeared as he leant forward and asked “What were the names of the people who did this again?” in a completely lethal tone. Tim, already hacking away at his computer responded “Not there yet, but from what I can find out, she goes to College Francois DuPont and she’s fifteen.” He briefly looked up and made eye contact with Bruce before asking “How fast do you think we can get our lawyers onto those kids B?” At the declarations of his children, Bruce closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “We can not file any lawsuits yet, not without Marinette’s permission.” He answered, sighing tiredly. “Marinette?” Dick questioned. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Tim responded instantly. “That’s her name.”

“She will be coming on Monday, and Alfred will be picking her up from the airport. She is also going to attend GA, so someone please tell Damian.” Bruce said as he stood from the table. “Now hurry up, we have patrol tonight, and there have been rumors about a drug ring near Crime Alley.”

---

After coming back from the hospital and having a sleepover Thursday night, Chloé and Adrien were completely sleep-deprived as they trudged into school the next morning. Settling into her usual seat beside Sabrina, Chloé silently thanked all the Kwami that she didn’t have to sit next to Lila. Halfway though class, Mrs. Bustier suddenly frowned and looked at the back row. “Does anyone know where Marinette is? She still hasn’t arrived yet!”

“Probably still sleeping at home! She’ll come in completely late as usual!” Alya cackled. At her words, Chloé felt her entire body heat up with righteous indignity. She opened her mouth to tell that wannabe tabloid reporter to get her facts straight, but then Adrien caught her eye and shook his head. He then pointed at his phone, and mimed unlocking it before pointing to her. Catching the hint, she checked her messages to see that Marinette had sent them a text.

FashionableBug: Mari said to tell Chloé and Adrien not to do anything to Lila or anyone else that starts making stuff up. (From Luka btw)

You’reUnderAgreste: Me-ouch, My Lady. I would never!

QueenofMean: shut it with the puns, Noir. Maribug, I will only listen to you because you’re injured and I’m not going to go against your wishes.

Putting her phone away, Chloé resigned herself to a miserable school day.

---

After school, she walked into Marinette’s room and flopped dramatically onto the chaise, before letting out a long groan.

“That bad?” Mari chuckled as she scribbled sketched one-handedly in her design notebook.

“You have no idea.” Chloé responded.

Their conversation continued into mundane things, such as everyone’s patrol routes, and various theories on who Hawkmoth was. Totally normal topics for teenagers. As the day drew to a close, they made plans for everyone to come over to start packing the next day before Chloé left the bakery and headed home.

---

Come Saturday, Marinette, Chloé and Luka spent the morning playing board games one handed “to level the playing field” as Luka put it and eating lots of cookies and pastries-provided by Marinette’s parents of course. Adrien and Kagami were attending their various classes until afternoon, so the remaining three spent their time relaxing, and coming up with a list of things to pack for Mari’s stay in Gotham. Two o’ clock rolled around, and the bells over the bakery jingled to announce the arrival of the final members of the packing committee.

Any plans to begin their assignment of somehow fitting all Marinette’s fabrics into the suitcase were cut short by an Akuma.

They all transformed, even though Kagami and Luka has been extremely reluctant to let Mari go even though the suit temporarily healed her injuries. Climbing through her roof hatch, they set out across the rooftops to defeat their latest villain.

---

Five hours later, the teen heroes dropped into her room, and detransformed in various flashes of multicolored lights. They collapsed onto the bed and chairs and silently agreed to just sleep , and get the packing done the next day.

---

All of Sunday was spent throwing various clothes and accessories into Mari’s pink and black suitcase. There were several sweaters and hoodies (added by Chloé), as well as several leggings and many thick pajama pants (Sabine).

Adrien (with the help of Tom) had somehow managed to pack over ten different pun-covered t-shirts, and by the time they were discovered, they had been buried under piles upon piles of fluffy socks from Kagami. Luka also threw in some scarves before Marinette added some toiletries, her sewing kit, and her computer.

Picking up the backpack she had decided to use as a carry-on, Marinette rifled through it to make sure she had everything in there as well.

Spare change of clothes in case she loses her suitcase? Check. Phone, headphones, and charger? Check. Sketchbook and pencils? Check. Disguised Miracle Box? Check.

She turned to her family (Not her teammates, not her friends, but her family.) and smiled. It was small, and bittersweet, but it was a smile. “Alright guys, I guess I’m all set.” She said, before joining them all in a group hug. They offered her soft, tearful smiles before Tom carried her big suitcase down the stairs.

That night, Marinette fell asleep surrounded by all the people she loved, and she couldn’t have been happier.

---

The next day, her Papa carried her downstairs and placed her into her wheelchair (since she had a broken foot, and couldn’t use her leg, they had given her a wheelchair) before wheeling her outside and placing her into the car waiting by the street.

Her friends were all inside, and she gripped Adrien’s hand tightly as they drove to the airport.

As she stood to board the plane, she turned back to catch one last glimpse of them all. Chloé was leaning into Kagami’s side who was holding her girlfriend’s hand tightly. Adrien was waving wildly, and Luka and her parents all raised one hand in farewell. Her Maman and Papa has some red rimming their eyes, but they smiled at her as she was wheeled into the plane. Next stop: Gotham, New Jersey.

Since her flight left Paris at 10 AM, she was set to arrive in Gotham at around 12 PM/noon. With that in mind, she decided to stay awake for the entire flight so that her body could adjust better.

As they crossed the Atlantic, Marinette, sitting in first class thanks to Chloé and Adrien’s combined nagging; popped her earbuds in, and began to sketch.

She stared out the window as she touched down, shocked by all the dog and darkness in the city. As she collected her bags, and wheeled her way outside to look for her host family, she couldn’t help but notice how everyone in this city was much more on edge than most normal people. ‘They act as though they are expecting an attack at any second of the day.’ She mused to herself. Her train of thought was cut off by the sight of an elderly man with a powerful aura standing next to a limo with a sign saying “Marinette Dupain-Cheng”. She wheeled her way over to him and smiled brightly. “Salut! My name is Marinette! What is yours, Monsieur!” She questioned, holding out her hand for a handshake.

“It’s lovely to meet you Miss Marinette, my name is Alfred Pennyworth.” Alfred responded, smiling gently down at her. “Now let’s get you and your bags in the car, shall we?” He reaches out to shake her hand, and the moment their fingers touched her vision was filled with dark blue and red. She laughed and smiled up at him. “It is an honor to meet you, noble Peacock.” She greeted him in the Guardian language, honoring his position as a True Holder. “And it is an honor to meet you as well, Ladybug.” He answered. She grinned and allowed him to help her into the back of the limo before he climbed into the driver's seat and they sped off to Wayne Manor.

---

When he saw the young girl, Alfred was shocked to say the least. She was roughly 5’ 4” (162.5 cm), and was very petite. Her stature, combined with her wheelchair, wrist brace, and the cast on her leg, all strengthened his resolve to protect the young girl from any further harm. That was only intensified when their auras recognized each other. How could anyone place the responsibility of upholding balance on such a young child?

As he drove to the Manor, she informed him that the Cat, Bee, Dragon and Snake were active on her team. Before he could ask her what the threat they were battling was, they had arrived at the Manor, and she had immediately tensed and gone silent.

Deciding that it was better to ask more questions later, he got out of the car to retrieve her bags and chair. Master Bruce and three of his children except for Master Damian were waiting in front of the doors to the Manor, and they all waited patiently for her as she exited the car.

---

Marinette was nervous. Sure, taking to Monsieur Alfred was really fun, and she couldn’t wait to tell him more about Paris, but now she was meeting her actual host family! What if they didn’t like her? What if they decided to send her back?! Then what would she do?? A small cough interrupted her downward spiral, and she looked up from her lap to see Monsieur Alfred waiting in front of the open door with her wheelchair. Grabbing her backpack, she awkwardly maneuvered herself into the chair and allowed herself to be wheeled out in front so she could meet Monsieur Bruce Wayne.

---

Note: Alfred doesn’t know that Marinette is the Guardian. He just knows she’s a Ladybug holder.

#maribat #marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne #adrien agreste #chloe bourgeois #luka couffaine #kagami tsurugi #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #time drake #jason todd #dick grayson #lila rossi #alya cesaire #lila salt #class salt

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