#in my defense my uncle said he wanted to knock my jaw out of place and his wife keeps calling me ugly fat & lazy and the kids are from hell

[mariverses]

my relatives are coming over and i will hate every second of it

#what was good before about immigrating was the fact that we were the only ones who left #and i can't believe i'll say this but please go back to our country this one is mine #in my defense my uncle said he wanted to knock my jaw out of place and his wife keeps calling me ugly fat & lazy and the kids are from hell #also for some fucking reason they decided yea. theyre gonna bring a fucking dog. to our house. im going to kill you #i will ship you back to romania in your coffins

[infinitefandomimagines]

Scarred - Zuko x Reader

WARNINGS: ARGUING, BURN SCARS, ANGST

-

REQUEST: zuko x reader where the reader is the last one to forgive zuko at the western air temple bc he accidentally hurt her in the crystal catacombs and than zuko goes to her tent, begging for forgiveness and she shows him the scar he gave her and it’s super fluffy:33

-

"Y/N. . . what do you say?" All eyes landed on you, waiting for your response to Aang's question. However, there was only one pair of eyes in particular you glared back at; and if looks could kill, the recently renounced Fire Nation prince in front of you would've surely met his demise right then. But Zuko knew how to hold himself in front of those who wanted to intimidate him. If there was anything his father taught him, it was that much.

Despite your fiery stare and previous threats from the first time he pleaded for forgiveness that you'd "knock him on his ass" if he ever came near you again, he kept his composure. There was no doubt in his mind you'd stay true to that warning, which is why he made sure to keep enough distance between the two of you.

There was a hopeful gleam in his eyes, so far Aang, Sokka, Katara, and Toph had agreed to let him join the team, albeit some more hesitantly than others. If everyone else found it in their hearts to forgive and forget, surely you could as well. Wrong.

"No."

You saw the last bit of hope fizzle from his eyes as defeat weighed down on him, causing his shoulders to sink and his head to drop. "I know you don't trust me, I don't blame you. I've done horrible things, hurt you and your friends-"

"You can't even begin to imagine the amount of pain you've caused me!" Your words held a venomous sting, yet your tone was strained, calm almost.

"Y/N," Katara stepped up behind you, her voice was soft. You could barely feel the hand she'd placed on your left shoulder, thick and itchy bandages blocking her attempt at comfort. "I don't like it either, but Aang needs to learn fire bending."

"I really believe he's changed, give him a chance to-"

You cut Aang off, finally breaking your gaze from Zuko to face the young monk. "He's already had too many chances!"

No one could admit that you were wrong, not even Zuko. Because every time he'd faught against your little group of rag-tag heroes, you'd given him a chance. Even while the rest of team avatar faught the exiled prince, you never threw a single blow that wasn't defensive or to save your friends. Instead, you'd offer him a chance to join the right side. Of course, he never accepted, but you saw the benefits of your kindness when he'd began to show a sense of mercy against you. There was something in your head telling you he was more than just a villain.

But that mindset changed when you and the gang faught against him and his sister in the crystal catacombs. When Aang almost died. When he chose the Fire Nation's side. When he'd made sure to leave you a permanent reminder of that day.

After a few moments of tense silence, you let out an impatience scoff. "Leave, Zuko. I gave you my answer, the least you can do is respect it."

Reluctantly, he nodded, mumbling out an apology before turning on his heels. He only got in a few steps before Aang interjected.

"Zuko, stop."

He did, glancing over his shoulder, ready to hear what Aang had to say.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but Zuko is staying. I need need to learn fire bending and he's my only option. I really believe he's changed for the better."

"You don't have to forgive him, but Aang's right, we need him," Sokka added in, to which Toph agreed.

You took in their words, it was obvious they weren't up for debate. You hated that they were right, you all did need Zuko, no matter your current opinion on him.

"Fine," you sighed, looking at Zuko, who was now standing awkwardly with his hands behind his back. "But stay away from me."

Over the next few days, Zuko had somehow managed to gain the complete and utter trust of everyone, even Katara. Everyone except you. Then again, you hadn't had your "life changing field trip with Zuko" that made everyone seemingly forget about everything he'd ever done to them. Field trip or not, earning your trust wasn't going to be that easy. You didn't care how many times he made everybody tea and told cringey jokes.

"Where did you learn to make so many different types of tea?" Aang inquired, causing everyone to look at Zuko, wanting to hear his answer.

Zuko returned to his seat around the fire between Toph and Aang, finally finished handing out small cups of tea. "My uncle, it's his favorite thing to make, he even owned a tea shop at one point."

"You mean the one you betrayed," you deadpanned coldly. You flicked your eyes up from the warm cup of tea in your hands to Zuko, wanting to see his reaction.

His smile faultered, and katara shot a disapproving look at you. For a second you felt guilty, maybe that was too far. He looked genuinely hurt by your comment, but soon another emotion took over his features. You could see it in the way he clenched his jaw and sat up straighter.

"Yeah. That one." His tone was one of poorly restrained bitterness, you'd definitely struck a nerve.

You hummed in response, refusing to break eye contact with him, like you were challenging him to say something equally as cold, but he didn't take the bait. Instead, he took a deep breath, just like his uncle taught him.

"I don't get it," He asked, frustrated and fed up with your snarky comments and side eyes. "Everyone else trusts me, why can't you?"

"You really have to ask?"

Katara could feel the tension and awkwardness of the impending argument hanging over everyone. This wasn't the time nor place to be having this conversation.

"I think now would be a good time for another healing session," she interjected, giving you a look that informed you she wasn't exactly asking. With a frustrated huff, you stood up and made your way to your tent, not even waiting for Katara to follow.

You plopped down onto your sleeping bag, sitting with your left side towards the opening.

Katara was there in a few minutes, holding a medium sized bowl of water in her hands. She gently set it down on the ground, taking a seat on your sleeping bag as well, facing your left side.

You tugged your left sleeve down so you could free it. With your shoulder now exposed, she carefully removed the bandages that covered your shoulder and the side of your neck, revealing the red and scarred skin hidden underneath.

"How does it look?" You asked, attempting to ignore the itchy feeling of the fresh air hitting your wound.

"It's healing, slowly" she answered as she conjured the water from the bowl and molded it with her hands. She purified the liquid, causing it it glow. Slowly, she lowered it until the cool water molded over your injured skin. You clenched your teeth and whimpered at the sudden sting the contact made, but then Katara started making circular motions with her hands, beginning the healing process. The stinging pain soon morphed into a comforting cold and relieving sensation.

Katara had done this for you and Aang multiple times since the gang escaped from that wretched crystal catacomb. As much progress as your skin had made in healing, you couldn't seem to wipe the painful memories of how you'd recieved such a wound from your mind. You could remember the events so vividly it was as if they'd happened yesterday.

You were stalling, Zuko and Azula knew that, yet they didn't seem to mind. If anything, Azula enjoyed watching you struggle to give your friends more time. You needed to stall them long enough for Aang to fully enter the avatar state, that's all.

"Come on, Zuko, you know what needs to be done!" Azula coaxed.

"No! You still have a chance Zuko, you can still make this right!" You could see the conflict rising in him as you and Azula tugged at his morals.

There was a moment, a single second where his emotions betrayed him, where you could see how badly he wanted to go with you and the gang. But it was gone just as fast as it came.

"I will kill the avatar and restore my honor, as well as my rightful place beside my father!" He launched into action, sending overpowering blows your way.

He kept you distracted and unable to help your friends long enough for Azula to strike down Aang. Your head snapped towards Katara's screams and you saw him laying there, completely unconscious.

You were distracted, and Zuko impulsively took advantage, sending a blast of orange and red flames towards you.

In all honesty, he expected you to dodge it, you always did without fail. But this time you were too distracted, too concerned with Aang, and he caught you completely off guard. You didn't even realize you were being attacked until the flames painfully scorched your skin.

You let out a horrifying scream as you crumbled to your knees, your shaky hand hovering over your left shoulder as you tried to control your instinct to grab it, knowing it would only hurt worse. You clenched your teeth together, biting back tears as you whipped your head around go see Zuko.

He looked shocked, remorseful even, but that didn't stop anger from edging its way into your glare.

You shuddered at the memory and tried to shake it from your head completely.

"You're all done," Katara said, maneuvering the water back into the bowl. A dull ache returned to your wound, but it felt significantly better than before.

"Thanks, Katara," you mumbled.

"Do you need help rewrapping the bandages?"

You shook your head, preferring to be alone and do the difficult task by yourself. Katara seemed to understand, because she didn't push the issue like she usually would. Instead, she left you with a few words.

"What you said was too far tonight, you should really apologize to Zuko, he is trying you know?"

She didn't wait for a response, not that you planned on giving much of one anyway, but soon you were alone, relishing in the peaceful silence.

But your silence didn't last long, just a few minutes after Katara left there was a whispering voice just outside your tent. It was unmistakable who'd come to visit you, and with great reluctance did you let him in.

"What do you want?" you asked, annoyance filling your voice. You refused to make eye contact with the boy, opting to stare at the mess of tangled bandages in your hands.

Your question was met with silence, that only seemed to worsen your mood. Really? He invades your tent just to ignore your one question? This guy was just unbelievable!

You could feel yourself loosing your temperature once again. "I said, what do you-" Your head snapped up at Zuko, ready to tell him off. But you froze when you saw his gaze, and how it held your figure. His jaw was slack, and his eyes swam as tears pooled at his lash-line. But his eyes never met yours. No, his focus was completely on the uncovered scar that graced your left side.

Your shoulder had taken most of the impact, just shy of being completely colored with a dull red scar. But the wound didn't stop there, covering a decent portion of your shoulder blade. The red marking also stretched up in a jagged stripe, narrowing to a point on the side of your neck, just barely marking your cheek.

You hated how you shuddered under his gaze, and had to look away. Your fingers moving faster as your tried to unravel the tangled bandage. You wanted to cover the burned area as soon as possible.

"I- I did that." It wasn't a question. He spoke purely in matter-of-fact statements, he knew exactly where you'd received your mark from.

"Yeah." You said sharply, picking up the bandage and moving to re-wrap the large wound.

"I . . . I am so sorry-"

"You've said."

Re-wrapping the affected area was proving to be more difficult than you'd thought, especially in your heightened state or frustration. Usually Katara did this part, and you were starting to regret sending her away.

"Please, let me help you," Zuko pleaded, reaching a shaky hand out to grasp at the bandage in your grip. You immediately flinched away from him, the sudden movement sending a sharp pain through your left side.

"Stay away from me!" You bit at him.

Zuko immediately pulled his hand back from you, as if he'd burned you unintentionally for a second time. "I'm sorry," he impulsively spilled out.

"Would you stop saying that? Stop apologizing, nothing is going to make me- ow!" Your own pain cut your sentence short, the sharp pain returning, sending another shock wave up your side at your frustrated movements.

"I'm so- just, please, let me help you and then I'll leave you alone, I promise."

You took a moment to think about the offer, and as much as you didn't want his help, the promise for him to leave is what enticed you to agree. So reluctantly, you handed him the bandages and positioned yourself closer to him, allowing Zuko to access your wound and wrap it with ease.

With slow movements, Zuko began wrapping the burned area. His touch was suprisingly gentle, even more so than Katara's, something you hadn't thought possible. But even with his feather-like touch, your skin still twitched as his fingers and the bandages made contact with the more sensitive areas. Zuko muttered out small apologies each time you flinched, despite your earlier message to stop that. Though the skin had begun the early stages of scarring, it was still sensitive.

"Uh, d-did I ever tell you how I got my scar?" Zuko asked suddenly, not even bothering to look up from his task. You knew what he was doing, he'd been doing things like that since he got here, trying to make small talk with you to cover up the awkward tension. You usually never entertained it, but for some reason tonight you felt intrigued by his question.

"No." You answered shortly, trying your best not to show your growing interest. You'd always been curious about the scar.

"My father gave it to me," he stated, oddly calmly. It was almost mindless the way he told the story as he continued to carefully wrap up your injury. Like the memory had become second nature to tell.

"Oh," you whispered out softly, your mind buzzing with a million different ways to respond to him, yet none of them felt right.

"I spoke out of turn during a meeting, over a general. They wanted to sacrifice an entire division of fire nation soldiers to gain the advantage. But I-," He swallowed thickly. ". . . I thought that was wrong so I spoke up."

You nodded ever so slightly, letting out a soft hum, showing that you were still listening and waiting for him to continue. At this point Zuko had finished wrapping the bandages around your burn, allowing you to turn your body to face him fully.

"My father was furious with my disrepect towards the general. He said that the dispute would need to be resolved with an agni kai, and I accepted. And when the day came I thought I'd be fighting the general I interrupted, but then my father walked out, my agni kai was to be against him."

With each word you felt your heart grow heavier and ache for the boy you swore you hated. You were beginning to question whether you genuinely hated him or if what you truly felt was left over betrayal and anger.

"How old were you?" You finally asked the question that had been bouncing around your head since he began the story.

"Thirteen, not long before I was banished."

You felt yourself boil with anger, but for once it wasn't directed towards the boy in front of you. No, you were furious with the Fire Lord. Who could do that to someone? To a child. Zuko must not have noticed the way your jaw clenched and your fists tightened into balls, because he continued the story as if he hadn't just made your heart drop into your stomach with his answer.

"I didn't want to fight my father, I couldn't. But he took my refusal as another sign of disrespect. I begged for his forgiveness, but he wouldn't hear it. He claimed that I would learn my lesson through suffering. He raised his hand just in front of my face and then he-"

His voice caught in his throat with a crack as he visibly grimaced from the sheer memory of the event. Instinctively, you reached out for his hand, placing yours over top of his much larger one. Now it was his turn to flinch at the sudden contact.

"Zuko, it's okay, you don't have to tell me this, I understand-"

"No! I do! I need you to understand that I never meant to hurt you! I need you to know that the last thing I wanted was for you to feel the same pain I did. After what my father did, I never wanted to inflict that on anyone. I knew that pain and yet I still hurt you . . . the one person who actually believed I could change!"

His hands flew into the air as his frustrated yells of regret were lost to the silent night. He then exasperatedly brought his arms back down and dropped his head into the palms of his hands. His body shook as he took in deep breaths, trying his best not to shed any tears. He was just so frustrated with himself.

"I thought you would dodge it," His muffled whimpers poured out. "You always dodged it."

It was then that you realized how cold you'd been to the boy. You were so caught up in your own hurt and anger, only concerned with making him feel as horrible as you had with your hurtful words. Not once had you considered that he was already kicking himself ten times harder for the pain he'd caused you. He really hadn't meant to hurt you.

And that's when you did something unexpected. In an impulsive attempt to comfort him, you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him in to a hug. His breath hitched, obviously shocked by the gesture, his body going stiff.

"I understand now, I forgive you, Zuko."

At those seven words he melted into your embrace, returning it as he wrapped his arms around your figure. His chin now rested on top of your good shoulder, as he was being extra cautious as to not press on your burns.

"And I'm sorry, for what I said about you and your uncle. He'd be proud of you."

His grip on you tighten, mumbling out a 'thank you,' in the process, finally feeling as though he could fully begin healing from all the wrong he'd done.

-

TAGLIST: @theepartygetsmewetter  

#prince zuko #zuko x reader #zuko imagines #zuko imagine #zuko #avatar the last airbender imagine #avatar the last airbender imagines #avatar the last airbender #atla imagine #atla fanfic #atla #atla zuko #atla x reader #zuko fanfic #prince zuko x reader #fire lord zuko #avatar #avatar x reader #avatar imagine #avatar imagines

[robininthelabyrinth]

Curse-breaker (Chapter 3/4)

- ao3 -

There were more guards than usual around the Unclean Realm, undoubtedly as a result of Wen Ruohan’s refusal to move from their gate, but that wasn’t a problem for them.

They knew all the ways in and out.

New ways, like the hole in the wall their little brother had teamed up with his best friend to carve out so that the two of them could leave little gifts and pass messages to them, and old ways, ancient ways, the ways of the dead that they’d learned from the still-lingering saber spirits that burned in rage and hate forever like an endless longevity candle.

Rage, and hated – but also love.

The saber spirits didn’t have to keep burning, keep fighting, but that was what their masters had wanted, and so they did. They fought against evil, time and time again, forever and always, and through their endless battle, in their hearts, their masters were never truly lost.

It was that simple.

It was that complicated.

It was time, they thought, to straighten things out. The saber spirits meant it as a gift, but the masters saw it as a burden; that wasn’t how it was meant to be at all – they just didn’t understand each other, steel and flesh speaking different tongues, meaning different things. The gaping chasm of understanding between life and not-life, which no one could bridge.

Well.

No one until them, anyway.

If a fish and a bird fell in love, where would they live?

On the shore, they thought. Right in the middle.

All they needed was someone to tell them that was an option.

It was time.

They passed like a formless spirit themselves through the many walls and guards in their path, heading to the sect leader’s study, as familiar to them as their own palms. Inside they found what was familiar, too: the heat-rage-pride pulse of Jiwei, resting in pride of place by her master’s side, and beside her was her master, their father, standing with his hands folded behind his back and looking out the window into the distance as if it would give him answers to questions that had eaten away at him his whole life.

They approached.

They were detected, of course.

“I already said that I didn’t want to be disturbed,” their father said, and although they had snuck close many times to hear him speaking, that beloved voice more familiar to them than their own, not daring to talk to him as they did to Huaisang who had always promised to keep their secret, there was still something different about hearing it so near, without walls between them.

They sighed happily.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said…Jiwei? What’s gotten you so excited –”

Their father turned.

His jaw dropped, eyes going wide and round as saucers, an absurd and silly look that suited him so much better than did the grim scowl and sad listlessness, interspersed with increasingly frequent bouts of uncontrollable rage, that he wore on his face more often than not these days.

What they had in mind would hurt, they knew, and equally they knew that they would not be able to act if they did not act fast – they were loathe to hurt people, much less people that they loved, and those that they loved would be equally unable to bear to see them hurt, yet both were necessary now, if they were to do what they had decided to do.

They did not allow themselves time to doubt.

They moved forward as quickly as a saber strike, sure and true, and their hands connected with their father’s chest and belly, heart and dantian both, with enough power to knock the breath out of him, taking advantage of his shock to strike when he would not even think of dodging.

In that moment of breathlessness, they latched on – latched on, and pulled.

What-are-you-doing-stop-that, Jiwei said, but even her ceaseless rage was blunted by the joy of seeing them once more.

You are hurting him.

I-am-not-I-am-refining-him-I-am-strengthening-him-as-he-strengthens-me-He-is-my-master-and-I-love-him.

You are hurting him, they insisted. Flesh is different. Flesh is brittle. Too much strength, and he will break.

Let me show you.

It hurt, of course, just as they’d expected. Not as much as when they’d shattered, though, and it was that – and perhaps only that – that allowed them to persist, using themselves as a cauldron, forcing their qi that was neither wholly spiritual nor resentful, neither fully alive or un-alive, through their father’s meridians, reshaping them as they went to be something capable of accepting the harsh, resentful, corrosive love of a saber spirit.

When they were done, their father stared at Jiwei, hearing her sing in his soul with an unprecedented clarity, feeling her love for him the way she meant for it to be felt, feeding his own love back to her in equal measure, giving everything of himself without holding back to the only thing on earth that he had ever loved without restraint.

His eyes were clear.

“A-Jue,” he whispered. “A-Jue…what is this?”

“A gift,” they said, their voice raspy with disuse. “Of many years making. I’m sorry that it took so long.”

Their father, unbreakable, burst into tears.

-

Later, when their father, his eyes still wet (though now from laughter rather than relief), told them about the ‘curse’, about his promise, about the rumors, and even about Wen Ruohan waiting for the chance to repent of his regrets, they thought about it for a while and said: “Let me see him.”

-

Wen Ruohan had done many things worthy of condemnation in his long life.

He had schemed and plotted, playing the hero and the villain both in their turn; he had fought in wars of such brutality that the current generation could not even begin to comprehend them, and he had also murdered in vile and underhanded ways, abandoning all integrity and righteousness, to ensure that such wars did not happen again. He had sought to strengthen himself by means both fair and foul, betrayed who he had to betray and stepped on who he had to step on; he had followed his ancestor’s path with his head held high until he had very nearly become a god.

He was not accustomed to regret.

Not accustomed did not mean immune: there were things he regretted, of course. The loss of his first family, the two sons and a daughter that he had failed so thoroughly that he still could not stand to hear the sound of their names, each one declared utterly taboo within the Nightless City – the wife he had married for power and then divorced in a fit of temper, driving her and her not-so-secret lover to the end of their rope in unspeakable desperation – the faithful servants he had sacrificed as pawns in his power plays and only afterwards realized how much he had relied upon them –

His brother.

His curse.

If by some miracle of fate he could choose to change a single thing in the ancient life that he had so far lived, it would unquestionably be the death of his brother.

Wen Ruohan had had quite a few brothers, in fact – his father, much like the usual style of leaders of the Wen sect, had fancied himself both empire-builder and emperor, and had had children accordingly, both his own and those he’d adopted, with all the headache-induing and often life-threatening dramatics associated with that – but to Wen Ruohan, there had only really ever been one that mattered.

Only one.

Wen Ruohan didn’t even remember any longer whether Wen Ruoyu had been his blood-related brother, sharing a father and maybe a mother, or if he’d been some child seized from another sect and given the Wen surname to help grow their power. It hadn’t mattered to him back then and it didn’t matter to him still, for all that he now prized his personal bloodline even above merit.

All that mattered was that Wen Ruohan had loved Wen Ruoyu more than he’d ever loved anything in his life, more than his sect, more than cultivation, more than power, and that Wen Ruoyu had died not knowing it. Had died cursing his name, spitting blood onto his face, fingers scrabbling at his neck in a futile attempt to choke him, wishing with his final breath that Wen Ruohan would never again know a single moment of peace.

Well, he hadn’t.

Ever the dutiful brother, he closed his eyes to nightmares, and woke to dreariness. He madly sought power enough to ensure that such a thing would never happen to him again, only for his obsessive quest to drive his few remaining loved ones into the grave; he had very nearly succeeded in becoming a god, and lost all interest in life in the process. The only joys remaining to him were his ever-growing power, his ever-expanding sect, and, sometimes, the blood and pain of other people, which he used as a reminder that he was not truly alone in this world.

And Lao Nie, of course.

Wen Ruohan had almost entirely succeeding in sealing off all of his emotions by the time Lao Nie showed up, smiling and carefree and reckless, half in love with the death he knew awaited him – showed up and battered down all of Wen Ruohan’s defenses. Wen Ruohan wished, now more than ever, that he had carried on in his attempts to make himself a true god, above all humanity, and not yielded to the siren call of friendship. Perhaps if he had been a god, he wouldn’t have been so hurt when Lao Nie barreled onwards with his life, leaving him behind not once but thrice – perhaps he wouldn’t have tried to kill him.

Perhaps he wouldn’t have nearly murdered the little boy that Lao Nie had on occasion shoved into his arms during a visit, no matter how many times Wen Ruohan reminded him that it was inappropriate – the little serious one who looked so bewildered by it all but who still called him Sect Leader Wen the way Wen Ruohan instructed rather than listening to his father’s not-quite-joking suggestions of ‘Uncle Wen’, the little crybaby that had all unknowingly once tricked Lan Qiren into a logical conundrum that had made the man’s mind splutter out like a machine falling all to bits while Wen Ruohan and Lao Nie had roared with laughter…the one that had been charming enough to make him change his mind and opt to keep little Wen Xu around instead of sending him out to be adopted into the branch families the way he had with the other children he’d refused to acknowledge, mourning as he still did his first family.

He hadn’t meant to hurt Nie Mingjue.

Not like that, anyway.

It’d taken some time for the regret to creep in – his initial bout of horror had been more shock and irritation at having hit the wrong target, the shame of making such an elementary error to hit a boy he hadn’t seen in years rather than the man standing right in front of him, and then he’d shrugged it off, thinking to himself that the loss of a son would be as good a way to punish Lao Nie as the loss of his life. It wasn’t until his spies in the Unclean Realm came back and described to him what he had wrought…

Nie Mingjue didn’t look anything like Wen Ruoyu, not really, but in Wen Ruohan’s dreams he wept tears of blood in just the same way, spitting up foam as his eyes rolled in his head, dying – dying – dead.

Not dead.

It wasn’t a curse, Wen Ruohan knew, but if there was something he could do – anything he could do – he would do it.

He had to.

“You have to let him go,” someone said, and Wen Ruohan looked up in surprise: he’d been waiting for half a day already and god or no god, his legs were numb with sitting.

He didn’t recognize the too-tall young man who stared down at him, one eyeball eerily colored red and steel grey – the young man’s clothing was non-descript and ill-fitting, mismatched as if he’d picked it off some laundry pile without thought of coordination. There was something of the Nie in his face, the breadth of his shoulders, but his features were finer and sharper, his waist more slender, his fingers lacking in the familiar calluses of the saber; he looked like he’d be a fierce war god when he’d grown into his body but that he hadn’t quite gotten there yet.

His golden core shone.

Wen Ruohan stared. His lust for power had long ago become an essential part of him, and in front of him was power, power at such a young age – if he could claim that cultivation for his own, maybe he could stop describing himself as nearly a god, could actually call down a heavenly tribulation and leap up to join the heavens in a single bound.

And then, maybe then, at last, he could have peace.

“You have to let him go,” the young man said a second time, and Wen Ruohan was distracted by wondering what he meant, not sure he understood and not entirely sure he cared. “That’s the only way. You have to let him go.”

He shifted forward, and something inside Wen Ruohan warned that he would strike.

It seemed ridiculous, though. Wen Ruohan, the finest living master of arrays, was not afraid of anything this young man might try to do – only a spiritual sword could pierce his armor, and even that, only one that took him utterly by surprise. No one would dare try to strike him.

Especially not this young man, who carried neither sword or saber.

Perhaps that was why Wen Ruohan never saw it coming – the young man’s hand moved in a jabbing motion, the way a sword would swing, and suddenly, impossibly, there was sword intent given physical form through spiritual energy, piecing through his defenses, slashing down at him and aiming right at his neck.

-

“Let me get this straight,” Lan Qiren said, rubbing his forehead. “Nie Mingjue reappeared after something like ten years out alone in the wild, and when he did he brought some sort of technique that just…fixed the Nie sect cultivation issue. The one that was killing you, and has been killing your ancestors for – generations.”

Lao Nie nodded.

“And then you allowed him to see Sect Leader Wen, who he attacked…in a way that happened to mimic some old tragedy that has apparently haunted him for years, thereby allowing him to resolve some long-held heart demon. And now Sect Leader Wen has retreated into seclusion in order to explore this moment of enlightenment further, and doesn’t intend to bother the rest of us for a while. Certainly not by continuing his schemes to take over the cultivation world.”

“That’s right,” Lao Nie said. “Though I don’t expect he’ll be in seclusion all that long; the Wen sect doesn’t practice –”

Lan Qiren held up a hand, indicating he wasn’t done and didn’t appreciate being interrupted.

Lao Nie obediently fell silent.

“And then,” and by now Lan Qiren was speaking through somewhat gritted teeth, “when Sect Leader Jin rushed over because he wanted to get in on what he perceived to be Wen Ruohan’s attempted takeover of the Qinghe Nie, your son attacked him, too – except in this case, he crippled him.”

“I did say anyone who trespassed would be killed on sight,” Lao Nie said, entirely unbothered. Because of course he wasn’t – why would anyone think that suddenly being freed of a lifetime’s death sentence would make him less reckless and shameless? If anything, his overwhelming joy had just made him even more arrogant and inclined to insist on getting his own way. “It’s been known for years, and no exceptions have ever been made, not even for sect leaders. Why should Jin Guangshan think himself different?”

“That’s a terrible excuse,” Lan Qiren scolded. “And besides the point.”

“What is the point?”

Lan Qiren opened his mouth, then stopped, thought it over, and sighed. “The point is, I suppose – are you going to the Jiang sect next?”

Lao Nie blinked. “The – Jiang sect? Why?”

“Because instead of the cultivation world breaking the ‘curse’ on your son, your son has apparently taken to breaking the curses of the cultivation world,” Lan Qiren said dryly. “And he’s already gotten four out of the five Great Sects, so why not complete the set?”

Lao Nie’s lips quirked. “Four? I can see the others: my Nie sect’s qi deviations, Wen Ruohan’s madness for power, the Jin sect’s terrible luck in getting that scheming old lecher selected as their next sect leader…but what did he do for the Lan sect?”

“It was in his name that you forced my brother out of seclusion all those years ago,” Lan Qiren pointed out. “And now I spend half of every year traveling wherever I wish, and the other half teaching; it is everything I would have wanted. Meanwhile, my brother has finally through his children learned what it means to care for others instead of rotting to death in a self-imposed grave built from ill-fated love…if that’s not curse-breaking, what is?”

#mdzs #nie mingjue #sect leader nie #wen ruohan #lan qiren #my fic #my fics #cursebreaker

[lady-o-ren]

The Dig 

Part Two (Because I was bullied into this . . .)

//Which can be read (HERE) for easier reading// And Part One (HERE)

In a little rented room above auld Geordie’s pub, Claire Beauchamp stood in nothing but her silk undergarments as she flipped open her weathered suitcase (once belonging to her dear uncle Lamb) she had heaved atop her bed. She rummaged through the contents, blowing at her curls clouding around her face, before pulling out a single dress of pale blue.

It wasn't something she usually packed whenever she went off on a dig but the dress had caught her eye in a department store window in London just before coming to Suffolk. She reasoned one never knew when the occasion might call for her to dress in something other than dirt stained trousers.

And never had she been more relieved by an impulse buy.

Or thankful for a rainy day that halted her excavation.

It was a chance to be with the Scot who thought her more precious than the iron rivets they discovered a few days ago, proof that the burial site they were knee deep in was a ship to honor a fallen king. She would've kissed him on the spot if it weren't for Foster and Pound.

The kiss however did come later.

After her and the lads celebrated with too many pints, she and Fraser went back to Sutton Hoo, slightly swaying with every step beneath the twilight, until their arms found their way around one another. Soon they were laying side by side in the grass and dirt, the air cool on their whiskey flushed cheeks, and she wrapped in his coat. Big and warm and enveloping like himself.

"We may very well be unearthing a legend here ," said Beauchamp, leaning back on her elbows, eyes closed facing the moon.

Fraser grinned.

" Beowulf ?"

She laughed and turned her gaze to him. "Arthur, King of the Britons !"

He laughed along with her, a deep and hearty sound, then joking all aside said  -

"Anglo Saxon, ye think?"

She nodded and rolled to her side, nearly pressing herself against Fraser's chest, heaving from a sharp intake of breath.

"I told you before that something grand and marvelous was buried here . . ."

"Ye did."

Then shyly Fraser said -

"Bha mi a ’bruadar mun bhròn mhòr. . . Remember that bit from my notebook?"

Her eyes softened and her features took on a pretty shade of pink remembering a great deal more of what that book contained.

How each page held a piece of his heart.

And laid a hand over his chest, against that fervent beat.

"Of course I do," she answered back, but frowned a little when Fraser bashfully kept his gaze to the small gap between them where a dandelion bloomed.

"Weel, I wrote it that night after we first met, from a dream I had. Sounds a great deal better in the gaelic though. . ."

Beauchamp raised her hand to cup his cheek, thumbing the fine cut bones beneath his skin, before pressing her soft warm mouth against his lips.

"Tell me," she insisted, when they managed to part and nudged her nose against his.

And so he did, voice low and more than a little breathless.

I dreamt about the mourning.

The deaths of great men. Terrible men. Old and young. Of Kings lost in battle buried beneath us.

They cried out to me and the Earth came to life and twisted her roots around me, dragging me inside her womb. Dark and cold, breathless like a cave.

But I wasn't frightened. I saw lights rushing around me, bright as the twilight sky. The souls that lie ahead. Surrounding us.

They brought me to you.

He shrugged sheepishly then.

Just before she kissed him again. Knowing she'd never want anyone more than she did right then and there amongst the swaying trees and spirits of auld.

This man whose soul spoke to her own.

Too bad a crack of lightning had to ruin the night.

But at least the rain blessed them with a day to themselves in apology.

Taking one last glance in the vanity mirror (that was about as big as her compact) and another quick check that her nails were clean of dirt, Beauchamp left her room and walked down the hallway to Fraser's, knocking softly against his door. When no one answered she pressed her ear curiously to the door hearing voices and knocked again, just a bit more louder, tapping the toe of her slingback  heels against the beaten wooden floor. With still no response (and patience never being a virtue she ever possessed) she flat out turned the knob finding it unlocked.

She poked her head in and found a room even smaller than her own and the source of the voices coming from a small red radio playing an adaption of a film from the windowsill.

- I might have known you were here. I had a feeling just as I hit the floor.

- That was your hat.

- Oh, Susan! Just look at it! Look!

Fraser himself was fast asleep and spread out atop the bed sheets dressed for a date to the cinema with his long arms crossed above his head and his big feet dangling off the edge of his too small bed.

Beauchamp stood watching him for a moment, filled with a sudden tenderness at his sleeping innocence . . . and a bone deep wickedness that gave her an idea. She closed the door quietly behind herself and flipped the lock, grinning as she did so. She then slipped out of her slingback heels and crossed the room in two short strides (the floorboards creaking with the pitch of a mouse beneath her), to carefully lay down beside him.

Fraser turned to her in sleep, a throaty murmur on his lips, and laid a heavy arm around her slim waist, gathering her heart to heart. She sighed happily and reached to caress a curl hanging low at his brow, admiring the color that reminded her of the scorching sunsets in Giza she basked in with her uncle so many years ago. Her fingers then threaded through his thick mane down to where they began to curl at his neck and was rewarded with an unexpected smile. Pure and sweet.

"You're too perfect for words, lad," she whispered against his wide mouth, but before she could seal their lips together his long blonde lashes fluttered open.

Fraser gazed at her sleepily, his smile only growing wider as the word Sorcha was adoringly breathed against her cheeks.

She wanted to ask him what that one meant. It might be her favorite bit of gaelic so far.

But then . . .

"Claire!" Fraser exclaimed, and nearly toppled them both out of the bed if not for Beauchamp clinging to his shoulders, steadying him above her.

"How di' ye - Why are ye -"

Beauchamp giggled loudly at his befuddled face and at his hair sticking up in all directions like a sunflower crown. She coasted her hands up the wide breadth of his shoulders to cup both his scarlet cheeks.

"You're door was unlocked, and you know how cold I easily get . . ." she playfully pouted, and tugged his face closer, enjoying how his skin felt like a glowing hot coal between her hands.

But Fraser pulled away.

"Claire. . ."

She sighed yet kept her amused grin.

"You're not a lad of sixteen, you know. You can have a girl in your room."

"I ken that," he answered back, with a defensive spike in his voice.

Beauchamp ignored his tone letting her hands wander to his chest, the muscles taut beneath his crisp white shirt straining to contain his racing heartbeat.

"We even spent a night under the stars together."

"That was altogether different."

Her eyes flashed with mischief as she toyed with the buttons of his shirt. "How so?"

"For one," Fraser breathed hoarsely, placing a hand over hers lest she get too carried away. "It wasn't all night, the thunder made sure of that, and we mostly were talking anyway."

"Mostly?"

"And two," he said firmly, ears pink. "There wasn't a bed either of us could fall out of."

"No, there wasn't," she agreed, deciding he'd had enough of her teasing (and only because she had never taken anyone seriously enough to go slow). "But you can still keep me warm, Fraser. Virtue intact. I promise."

He arched a ruddy brow, doubtful of the lass with cheeky hands and a red cheshire grin that could lure a man to break every sin. Yet he eased himself beside her anyway and in the only way that worked.

With their legs twined together, nearly flushed against one another.

And his big hand braced along her back, the fabric soft against his callused palm as he smoothed it up and down, feeling the gentle rise of her ribs as she breathed in absolute contentment.

“Better than sitting in the cinema don't you think?” said Beauchamp, as she nuzzled her face to the crook of his neck, warmed by his skin that smelled freshly clean. Yet she found herself missing the scent of a hard day's labor on him.

“Aye, much - wait!” Fraser shifted to his elbow. “We missed the film didn't we?"

Beauchamp, a little annoyed at being jostled, shook her head and tugged at his collar to settle her lad back down.

"No, there's still some time left. Cary Grant just lost his intercostal clavicle bone to a dog named George. . . Or was it a leopard named Baby?"

Fraser stared at her like she'd gone completely daft until he noticed the radio playing in the background and heard the inimitable voices of Grant alongside Katherine Hepburn.

- Now it isn't that I don't like you, Susan, because, after all, in moments of quiet, I'm strangely drawn toward you, but - well, there haven't been any quiet moments.

"Oh,” he chuckled lightly, dropping his head to the side. “I must've fallen asleep listening to Lux Theatre . What I meant was the actual cinema though.”

“I think Judy Garland is merrily singing down that yellow brick road as we speak. But don't be sorry," she said, with a kiss to the hard line of his jaw, before the words could fall from his mouth. "It would've been far too crowded anyway."

“But you got yourself all dressed up," he protested, as his eyes traveled down to where her dress had been rucked up tight over her breasts and waist (and where his hand involuntarily flexed over the winged flare of her hip) before hastily clearing his throat.

"Ye look lovely by the way, mo chridhe. More than lovely actually. . ."

That shy and tender smile of his was her undoing and made her feel light-headed and reckless.

"Either that clever mouth of yours keeps on with the compliments, Fraser, or . . ."

Her voice carried off as her knee glided up between his thighs and her arms clasped around his shoulders so that any thoughts Fraser had of being a gentleman were forgotten in a wanton blaze of heat.

Some time later, with Fraser's cheek pillowed against her breasts, breath hot and seeping through the thin blue fabric thoroughly wrinkled now, he groaned.

"I wish we weren't in a room above a pub that reeks of cigarettes and wee."

She hummed softly, her fingertips stroking the back of his head, twirling around his curls. Admiring their beauty.

"Where should we be then?"

Fraser lifted his gaze to hers, blue eyes glimmering with that undeniable emotion that should've scared her yet it only made her want to claim him forever.

"A woman like you. . ." He smiled. " In a tent somewhere outside the ruins of a temple or in a cave in the Himalayas."

Her chest bounced with sparkling laughter.

"How about when this is all over and our names are the talk of the town, you take me anywhere you please. Preferably with a bed we can both fit in."

It was a tantalizing thought yet Fraser couldn't help but think of Scotland. Of his home Lallybroch. With her hand in his passing through the centuries old stone archway as his lady of Broch Turach.

Someday, maybe. God willing.

"I can think of a place," he murmured, and tightened his hold around her lush frame and pressed a daring kiss of hope above her heart. Felt her shiver beneath his mouth.

- I've just discovered that was the best day I've ever had in my whole life!

- But I was there!

- That's what made it so good!

And together they drifted off listening to the rain and the silly, sappy music.

I can't give you anything but love, baby.

That's the only thing I've plenty of, baby.

Dream awhile, scheme awhile

We're sure to find happiness . . .

//

A/N: There’s a lot of notes so I’ll keep them to ao3. And there’s probably mistakes galore but I needed to post this before cringe settled in and I deleted it, Thank you for reading!

#jamie x claire #outlander fic #outlander fanfiction #gobbledygook writing

[ola-elaina]

Hi. Can I please request an one-shot about Lenora confessing to the reader that she's pregnant since the reader and Arvin had a baby while being teens as well? You can decide how it ends. Thank you 🙈🙈

FAMILY

Word Count: 1.6k

Pairing: Arvin Russell x fem!reader; Lenora Laferty x platonic!reader

A/N: unedited!

You stood before the picnic table, arranging the food your mother and Arvin’s grandmother had prepared.

It was Lenora’s birthday today.

She, along with you, Arvin, Charles, your parents, and their grandma had come to the open park just a little out of town to celebrate as per her request.

Arvin had offered a trip to the beach, but Lenora was feeling ill the past couple of days. Instead, she wanted to get some fresh air at the park where the three of you would come hang around and bring Charles with.

Halfway of folding the napkin on your hand, you felt a familiar pair of hands gripped your waist then snaked on your middle, almost making you yelp.

It was Arvin. His chin resting on your shoulder as he took a peek of what you were doing then placed a peck on the bare crook of your neck. His kisses trailing up to your jaw while his thumb drew slow circles on your side.

A giggle escaped your lips which you quickly covered by clearing your throat. “Arvin!” You elbowed his stomach to stop him.

You turned to face him, surprised that he was alone. His deep chuckle resonated in your ear.

When he stepped back, it gave you a chance to look over to the table where Emma and your parents were at. Thankfully, the three of them were busying themselves with Charles — yours and Arvin’s one year old toddler.

Your eye also spotted Lenora who was sitting at the foot of an oak tree. Her back resting on the wide trunk while she faced the scenic view of Ohio.

“Lenora wanted to talk to you.” He announced, his hands still resting at the low of your back.

“About what?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. She won’t tell.” His voice laced with concern, brows pulled together, head tilting to the side from confusion. Arvin was obviously troubled with Lenora’s sickly demeanor the past couple of days.

You brought a finger to his crumpled skin between his brows to straighten them. “I’ll go talk to her. Don’t worry about it.”

Arvin sighed before nodding.

“Would you mind finishing this up? So, our birthday girl could eat after we talk, maybe Lenora’s just hungry.”

“Of course not.” He slid his hand with yours, giving it a squeeze before finally letting you go. “Please, make sure she’s alright.”

You nodded, giving back the squeeze.

When you approached Lenora, she had her eyes closed — her head leaning against the wood. You sat beside her quietly as not to disturb her.

It was a beautiful bright day today. The sun was out but it wasn’t glaring down at you. The breeze was refreshing, not too cold nor too hot. The sounds of the birds chirping above the branches, the wind rustling the leaves, and the gleeful voices of your family from the distance hang around the air.

From Lenora’s stature, you thought she was asleep, but you felt her fingers interlaced with yours. Her head falling to rest on your shoulder. You let yours sit on top of hers.

Peaceful silence enveloped the two of you until the girl beside you broke the silence.

“Y/N...” She started; her tone sounded like she was hesitating. It piqued your curiosity. Lenora was quiet but once she spoke, she was certain. You let her take her time, not wanting to pressure her into talking. From the way her hand shook a bit, it was evident that she was a bundle of nerves. “What did it feel like when you first found out about Charles?”

Her sudden question took you aback. Your brows shoot up, blinking a couple times before answering. “Very frightening, to say the least. It was the first time I had missed my period and felt very sick. I thought I had caught something bad.” You chuckled as you recalled.

Now that you thought about it, this was the first time you and Lenora are talking about your pregnancy as odd as it is. The both of you weren’t that close until you ran away to the Russells’ out of fear from your parents’ reaction.

That’s when your tightly knitted friendship with Lenora bloomed. She was there for you and Arvin the whole time. Anything you needed; she’d do if she could. Lenora cared deeply not only for Arvin, but for you as well. You never had siblings and you found one in her.

Lenora never forced herself into anything during your pregnancy. She knew it was a difficult time for you and Arvin. She never asked but she was there. Always.

You owed a lot to her.

“What was the first thing on your mind?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. It was a flood of thoughts and emotions. I cried for nights, thinking how I would tell my parents... and Arvin. Oh, Lord. Believe it or not, it was Arvin’s reaction I was most afraid of.”

“Really? Why?”

“Mhmm.” You shrugged. “I guess I thought if my parents disowned me, I would have no one to turn to. The two of us weren’t close then I couldn’t come to you yet.”

Lenora let out a soft chuckle, bringing your intertwined hands on her heart — placing her other hand on top of it.

“Why’d you ask—” You cut yourself short, your head shot up as an idea popping in your mind.

No, it can’t be. There’s no way.

Her hands were now visibly shaking. When she turned to look at you, you caught the silent tears streaming down her cheeks.

Your eyes doubled in size as you stared at her, waiting for her confirmation.

“Y/N...” She shook her head. “I’m pregnant.”

“Oh.”

Lenora ran the back of her free hand on her damp upper lip. “That ain’t the reaction I was hoping for, but it was better than what I was expecting.” She pointed a weak smile at your mouth that hung open.

“This must be the feeling when you found out I was pregnant.” You muttered, still unable to think of what to say.

“So, you’re happy?”

You grinned at her. You took your hand from your hold and grabbed her pale cheeks on your hand. “Is that why you were feeling ill the past few days?”

She nodded.

“Do you know how long?”

“Almost 3 months.” She replied sheepishly. “Y/N, I’m scared...”

You opened your arms, allowing her to fall into your embrace. She cried in your arms, knowing the fear that would run in her veins from being in her position just from nearly two years ago.

“I understand.” You whispered in her ear.

“How am I going to tell grandma? Uncle Earskell? Arvin?! He’s goin’ to be mad!”

“That’s true.”

She cried harder from your response.

“We’re young. We’re supposed to enjoy our youth while we can and having a child is a big responsibility for someone who’s not even an adult herself.”

“What if the Russells throw me away? I have no family no more, Y/N!” She hiccuped.

“Hey.” You comfortingly rubbed a hand on her back. “They certainly won’t take it easy at first but they’re your family. They won’t be able to resist their Lenora. I witnessed myself how they truly cared for you like their own blood, especially Arvin. They’ll understand.”

Lenora’s tight arms around you loosen a bit, her sobs calming down, but you continued to rub her back.

When you were in her position, you had no friend to comfort you. All those close to you, you were afraid of telling. You knew how someone like Lenora needed somebody, even if it was just an embrace.

“For what it’s worth, your family,” You emphasized the last two words before proceeding. “Took me in with open arms without question. A girl they have never met before until she came knocking on their door, knocked up. What more you?”

A snicker came from her which put up a smile on your face. She rose to level with your face. “Thank you, Y/N. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Remember, you have been with me for the most vulnerable months of my life? And I will be with you. Even in your strongest. That goes without saying.”

A genuine smile finally crept on her face, eyes chinking — your favorite kind. You discreetly let out a sigh of relief and mentally pat yourself on the back. It wasn’t a lot but you’re glad she somehow felt relieved.

“You welcomed me in your life. There’s no way you’re getting rid of me. I’ll be with you every step of the way, alright?”

“That’s comfortin’ to know.”

“Good.” You pulled her on your chest once more as the two of you shared a chuckle.

“Hey! What’s takin’ you so long?” Arvin’s head poked from your side of the tree.

You felt Lenora wiped her cheeks dry in your arms before pulling away and flashed Arvin a smile like nothing happened.

Arvin forwarded then stepped between the two of you two squeeze in, making a room of herself. His left arm draping over Lenora’s shoulder, his right grabbing your waist to pull you closer.

“Seems like the two of you havin’ serious talk, what’s it about?” He arched a brow.

Lenora’s sudden wide eyes met with yours. You rewarded her a meaningful smile.

“It’s nothing.” You chirped then looked away.

“Oh, you’re keepin’ secrets from me now?” His eyes darted from you to Lenora then back at you again. Then tickled your side, making your squeal and squirm.

Lenora sniffled then pulled Arvin’s ear toward her. “We’re just happy the family’s gettin’ bigger.”

“What’s that supposed to mean—Wait, are you pregnant?”

You and Lenora froze in your spot but quickly recovered when Arvin turned to you.

“No!” You said quite defensively, pinching his side.

“Darn it!” He remarked jokingly then pulled the both of you in an embrace and gifting you each a kiss on the forehead.

A/N: requests are temporarily closed! still squeezing my brain to write the ones in my inbox 

#arvin russell x reader #arvin russell fic #arvin russell imagine #arvin russell one shot #arvin russell x y/n #arvin russell x you #arvin russell fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #lenora laferty

[sirtwentyofhousegoodmen]

If you're doing prompts then I'd love to see what Arcturus reaction was to Lucretia being born

February 12th, 1925

The sound of a wail of pain punctured through the tense silence that had settled over the drawing room of Grimmauld Place.

“Your grandmother didn’t make nearly as big a fuss as that slip of a wife of yours when she gave birth to my children,” groused his grandfather Phineas Nigellus, though, like so many of his rejoinders in the past few months, it lacked any real bite to it. The half-blind, knock-kneed, rather frail man sat on the divan across from him was a shadow of the dignified, intimidating headmaster he’d been not three years ago.

Seventy-five was rather young for a Wizard to get so sick—but he supposed with his youngest son’s death and his eldest’s dipsomania, it was only a matter of time before all the stress got to the old goat and he keeled over.

“Melania is of a more delicate disposition than mother,” his father said, oddly sober. Arcturus supposed once he’d got the news that Phineas Nigellus would grace them all with his presence he cleaned out his liquor cabinet in anticipation.

At least something was enough to get him to look up from the bottle.

“Delicate,” Phineas Nigellus wheezed out, shaking his head in something most likely meant to convey his contempt for the word. “Weak, more like.” He turned his milky eyes over to Arcturus. “Pray she handles the stress of it better than your mother did, boy.”

“Father,” The heir to the Black family, rather than defend the memory of his wife, merely screwed his face up as if he were in pain.

Arcturus glared at his grandfather, hotly. “My mother did her duty and gave my father two sons.”

“Yes,” Phineas Nigellus took a puff from his cigar, following it with a shaky sip of brandy. “And only one of them is of any use to us—with only a girl to show for it. Duty, indeed.”

Regulus shifted uncomfortably, swirling around his drink in his goblet.

“Father, can we not have a day of peace?” His Uncle Arcturus spoke up from his seat on the chaise, eyes focused on his lit cigar, as if putting it through some sort of imaginary test. “Daughter or not, this is a joyous occasion—another addition to the House of Black.”

“Pah, of course you’d think that. It’s not another addition, you clod, it’s another girl.” Phineas Nigellus grunted out, and his second son—who’d only given him granddaughters—clenched his jaw in anger but remained quiet. “And in a month, Pollux is going to give us another. Four sons, four bloody sons I gave your mother—and what do they give me in turn? Two brides for another man’s son to carry on his name—and no one to carry on mine.”

“Arcturus has all girls, Cygnus gives me a dolt and a squib, and Sirius an impudent wretch and a pansy.”Phineas Nigellus shook his head, looking so very tired, then heaved out a rattling sigh. “If only my father could see what’s become of this family.”

Before he could turn around from his spot standing at the fireplace, a sharp retort for his corpse of a grandfather fresh in his mind, the double doors of the drawing room burst open, and Lycoris—hair slightly undone and her dress a wrinkled mess—stepped inside, reflexively scrunching up her nose at the pungent odor of tobacco and brandy.

All the sons of Phineas Nigellus, who had been weathering their father’s sputtering outbursts of contempt with quiet dignity, stood up from their seats, save the old man himself who merely lifted his head as if to hear better.

"It’s as the healer said: A girl, Archie," Lycoris said, beaming. "Red-cheeked and healthy.”

All the men in the room turned to offer their congratulations to Arcturus.

“A girl,” His father said, his eyes glimmering with an emotion he couldn’t quite decipher. “You’re a father now, Archie.”

Arcturus nodded, not quite believing the fact himself. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

Father grabbed hold of his hand tightly, and he flinched at the touch. “You’ll be better than I was, won’t you?”

The question took him by surprise, and for a moment he could do nothing but stare back, dumbly. Finally, he settled for another, albeit more terse nod. The rest went unspoken between the two of them—for what else was there to say?

His uncle Arcturus came up to him next, unusually jovial. “Congratulations are in order, my boy,” He sighed, then shook his head. “In a better world, that child might have been my granddaughter,” his eyes glazed over in that way they always did when he spoke of Cedrella. For all the man’s insistence he wanted nothing to do with the daughter that had run off with a blood-traitor, he did a terrible job of keeping the longing from his voice when mentioning her. “But, either way—a new Black is cause for celebration, and she’s still my blood. A word of advice, if you would, nephew?”

He leaned in closer. “Daughters are hell.” His smile turned rueful. “Cherish them while they’re with you, for you’ll miss them to your bones later on.”

Arcturus gave him a bland smile, silently noting the advice, though he was sure he’d forgotten it almost as soon as it was said. Uncle Cygnus’s congratulations—as well as grandfather’s begrudging words of commendation—too, became blurred and indistinguishable from each other. The only coherent thought in his head at the moment was the fact that there was a daughter waiting for him upstairs. His daughter.

He’d never given much thought to actually having a child. Of course, he knew what his duty was, and that one day he would be expected to further the Black line, but the idea was always rather abstract. Now—with a real child...

For the first time in his life he was at a loss.

After a few more felicitations—along with a rather loud toast from a plastered Regulus, who’d resorted to drinking away the stress of sitting next to grandfather—Arcturus made his way up to the rooms Melania had been locked away in for the last five hours.

Opening the door, he was greeted with the sight of his wife, a tightly wrapped and rather fussy bundle laid atop her chest.

Melania looked up at him in the doorway, and gave him one of those shy smiles of hers, and he froze.

She’d never looked more beautiful.

“Hello,” She whispered, voice obviously spent after five hours of screaming.

“Hi,” he said back, awkwardly balancing from one foot to another. Why on earth was he acting like some hormone-fueled fourth-year?

Warily, he approached, and as he got closer to the bed he could see a soft tuft of black hair emerge from underneath the bundle.

Melania shifted on the bed in order to allow him some room, and he sat down on the edge. He couldn’t help but think that this was the closest they’d ever been, marital duties aside.

“She looks like you,” Melania said, after some minutes had passed in silence.

Arcturus, still in shock, peeked over and saw two pairs of gray eyes identical to his looking up at him.

“She has my coloring,” He corrected her, clearing his throat, which had become rather closed up. “She has your face, however. Just as beautiful as her mother.”

Melania blushed—Arcturus had called her beautiful many times, but it always came across as a statement of fact rather than out of any affection. This time, however, his voice was tender—or as close to tender as he got.

“Have you given her a name?”

Melania shook her head. “I thought it only proper to wait for you, to see if you had a particular suggestion.”

Arcturus smiled at the typically dutiful reply, and was even moved enough to grace his young wife with a light kiss to her crown, much to her surprise.

“What was that for?” She asked, eyes darting about the damask coverlet, shyly. It occurred to him that for all she was a wife and mother now, she was still a nineteen year old, with all the flights and fancies of pureblood women her age. His own mother had given birth to him at that age—and it struck him then that in three short years he would be older than Hesper Black had ever or will ever be.

How odd it was—to outlive someone who seemed so immortal in his own memory. Odder still, thinking about death when in the presence of new life.

“I can’t repay you for all you’ve given me,” Arcturus said, voice softer than it had ever been. “I—I—I,” he cleared his throat, harshly. “There has never been a more loyal, nor more dutiful wife, madam.”

The smile she gave him this time was even bigger, and he found himself returning it.

Arcturus turned back to the girl, his girl, only to find her tiny, doll-like hands tugging fruitlessly at his sleeve. He chuckled warmly at the sight.

“My, look at her—this one will cause us some trouble.”

Melania sighed, fond exasperation writ across her face. “I can already tell.”

“Lucretia,” he said, after a moment. Melania blinked up at him. “It was my great-grandmother’s name—a rather rare name, as far as concerns our family, but hopefully the added sentimental streak will finally get the old bastard to approve of something I do.”

Melania nodded, then looked back at their daughter, beaming with pride. “Lucretia,” she said, resolutely. “Lucretia Lycoris Black.”

Arcturus snorted. “How long did it take for my sister to bully you into that one?”

Melania flushed a deep scarlet, then began mumbling feebly in defense: “It was not—she was a great help during the birth—“

Rolling his eyes, he cut her off: “Don’t get yourself into a state, we won’t be disappointing Lycoris today. Lucretia Lycoris Black. It’s perfect.”

He looked back down at his daughter, into those eyes that were all guilelessness and innocence and hope, as well as a not insignificant amount of trust. It reminded him of the way Lycoris and Regulus would look up to him during their childhood—but more.

So much more.

“She’s perfect.”

#noble and most ancient house of black #harry potter #the black sheep dog #ozymandias #arcturus black #sirius black #phineas nigellus black #regulus black #lucretia black #melania macmillan black #fanfiction

[amberwild420]

one step back, two steps forward (pt. 2)

Masterlist

College Françoise DuPont

** **

College Françoise DuPont, a place that gives chances to many talented young people.

 That’s what was written on the pamphlet.

 Kaylan felt a part of her sanity leaving her, when she sat in front of the owlish principal.  He was incompetent, useless and down side money lover.

  How did she know that?

Perks of having her abilities.

And then came the teacher.

IN.COM.PE.TENT.

She was sure that one word was definitely not enough to summarize her ability as a teacher. And the living proof of her incompetent behavior was her new class. She felt like tearing her hair out and banging her head on the wall.

At least Marinette was nice.

Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie

Eyes wide open and jaws dropped Kaylan looked at the bakery. She than looked at the girl who brought her here. Marinette was smiling like an angel.

 When you said you were taking me your place I was expecting a house or an apartment, not a bakery.

Was she drooling at the thought of heavenly sweets she can get from them? Well sue her for having a sweet tooth that no one but her mother knows about.

Marinette giggled then gestured the other girl to come in. Inside were her what looked like her parents behind the counter.

 Maman, papa, I brought a classmate.

 Her parents frowned a little but it changed to cheerful smiles when they noticed Kaylan.

 It’s nice to meet you sweetie. I’m Sabine and this is Tom. Hope our Marinette is kind to you.

The said girl whined. But Kaylan was sweating bullets. Dear god who was that giant of a man? Why was he so tall? And what’s with the woman? Why was she so intimidated by a woman who was smiling like sun? AND WHY THE DANGER BELLS ARE RINGING IN HER HEAD?!!!

 I-i-it’s nice to meet you! Please take care of me.

She squeaked pathetically before a look of horror came on her face and she was bowing rapidly.

I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I don’t believe that happened. I’m sorry I disrespected you. I’m really sorry.

Hey it’s no worry. Stop.

Kaylan groaned and hid her face in her hands. Her ears were red telling them that she was just embarrassed.

 I haven’t lost my cool in my entire life.

Well, we tend to make people show their different sides.

 Sabine chuckled and welcomed the girl in. Marinette showed her way to her room. It was pink. But the half-finished suit on the mannequin was what caught her attention.

 This is good. Definetly better than most that i have seen. You made it yourself?

 Marinette flushed a little.

Ye-yeah! But it’s not that good. Just something to pass time. Not like its commissioned or something. N-no that’s not it. Oh Kwami!

 Can I commission something from you? I need a gift for mom in a few months so can you make me one. I’ll pay for it. You just have to tell me the advance for the material and I’ll pay you by the time you need to find the material and…..

 The knock on the door stopped their conversation and they realized their positions. (A/n: not like that you dirty minds. Get your heads out of the gutter)

 Kaylan was in her personal space, both hands on Marinette’s shoulder. They jumped back with loud apologies. Sabine entered with a smile carrying a tray of sweats.

 _I hope you enjoy. You can come anytime you want Kaylan. _

She gave a smile to her and a wink to her daughter. Both girls settle down to eat. Taking the first bite, Kaylan felt herself blown away.

This is soooooo gooood. I have never eaten something so tasty.

Marinette giggled and started telling or more like advertising and praising her parent’s bakery. Not that Kaylan minded that was so good that she had no problem admitting all.

Since Kaylan was new to Paris, Marinette told her about akuma and the Paris situation and how many things work. Though the things looked far-fetched but when she saw the video of a fight, it looked real. She had no choice but to ask about the do and don’t.

By the time they finished, they were returning school. They talked about minor things. then it turn towards Lila being liar and Kaylan telling her about jobs.

So, it was suppose to be a prank but Bryce thought it was funny to hug with all the paint dripping off him...…..

it was washable paint! We’re not that heartless!

…..and yet you still had to record. isn’t that...…..I don't know a disaster

In my defense, Cherami egged me on and i was feeling rather bored.

Kaylan, you did realize you worked with Bryce Papenbrook and Cherami Leigh.

Says the girl that designed for Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale.

Touché.

Since there was sometime before class, they decided to separate for the moment. Marinette wanted to check the art class and Kaylan turn towards bathroom. What they didn’t realize was the certain liar stalking the new girl.

When Lila opened the door, Kaylan was washing her hands. She locked the door, as quietly as possible. Not that she noticed the light twitch of her target’s lips. She knew or at least had an idea on what the Italian liar was going for.

Kaylan Fox, I’ll give you just one chance. Either you surrender or I’ll turn everyone against you.

Pfft!

A snort left her lips making the Italian surprise. Her laugh got louder until it was a full belly laugh.

For anyone outside it would be just a hearty laughter after listening to a really good joke. But Lila felt it. The insanity in that laugh. Suddenly she stopped and in a blink of an eye she was in her face. The cold sensation on her neck and pain in her scalp told her what actually happened.

The knife on her neck was like it came out of nowhere. She was being threatened. She was being threatened at the tip of the knife and by a new student no less. (here)

She wouldn’t do that. She couldn’t. She won’t get away with it.

Oh I can get away with it, darling. And I will.

That’s when Lila realized that she had said it out loud and worst is that she can’t get away from her predatory gaze.

But that’s not the problem is. The problem is that you, a mere fox dare to threaten me, a wolf.

That’s right. I, despite the name, am a wolf. I lurk in the shadows, play with my prey and when I get bore I kill it. You, a mere fox who had to hide behind a lion, is daring to threaten me. That’s funny. But don’t worry, I won’t kill you. It will be just a waste of my time and efforts.

She pushed her away and put the knife in her pocket, acting like she didn’t do anything wrong at all. Lila stayed pathetically on the floor.

I-I will tell everyone that you threaten me in the bathroom. And tried to attack me with a knife. When they search you, they will find it and you’ll be taken away as a murderer.

Oh! Will they? And do tell me how will they find it?

The gleam in her eye made her shudder. The angry response died on her tongue. She only made a few questioning noises. 

I mean they won’t find it, at least not on me. Do you know why? Because it will be in your bag.

What?

I can give you a lot of scenario. More than a hundred. Hmm……… how about a demo! You run out of bathroom yelling that I tried to kill you with a knife, the students will panic and try to run away. The distraction will be enough for me to put the knife in your bag. By the time authorities, come to search me they will find nothing and then I will just casually add that it must be some other person, they will get suspicious of you because you were so sure that it was me and the search turned to you. Then there will be a knife in your bag and you will yell that you are being framed. The police will start with finger prints and there will be none and with no choice they will start questioning...…..

….But that won’t be all. Just today in the class you were telling about how one of your uncle was in the military and he loved you so much that he taught those fancy moves because he didn’t wanted you to get hurt and I’m pretty sure it will casually be mentioned. and thus the suspicion will solidify. you will be treated as a villain or worse a murderer …. or a possible one in the future. I’m pretty sure you can imagine what could happen next?

Kaylan said with a smile, like she didn’t just turn the threat around. Lila grit her teeth but she couldn’t do anything. The story wasn’t too elaborative but the way this new girl was talking with her, she knew, she would also do it as she said.

Wait did she said one of the scenario? Were there more of it?

Lila didn’t stay for too long but she left rather quickly, nearly forgetting that she locked the door. Once she was gone, Kaylan looked at the stall from the corner of her eyes.

Aren’t you gonna come out? She’s gone now.

A moment pass and the stall door opened.

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#one step back #two steps forward #daminette later #maribat later #original character #ml salt #class salt #bustier is so incompetent #someone give Marinette a hug #mainette needs hug

[gemstoneconstellations]

Little Match Maker

Summary: Single dad!Kirishima has a 8 year old wingman who only wants her daddy to be happy, by talking to the cute neighbor across the street for him.

Wordcount: 1917

A/N: this has actually happened to me and its the most adorable thing to see a child ask if you have a boyfriend while their dad is dying in the background of embarrassment when they off handily mention that they found some stranger pretty. So now its a fic. Thank you little girl for the scenario and I hope you got your dad a girlfriend.

Kirishima watched from his kitchen window as his neighbor plucked a few weeds from her front yard. She bent down to pick up a tool and he could see her shorts dig into her soft skin. He sighed as she smiled at another neighbor walking by with their dog. “So pretty…” 

He wished he was on the receiving end of that smile, even if it was just you being polite. There were a lot of things he wished for when he saw you across the street. . Maybe he’s just lonely, but he couldn’t help the crush he’d had on you for a while now, despite barely knowing you.. He groaned as you squatted down in front of your flower bed. Sometimes he feels like some dirty teenager again with how much he thought about his head between your—

“Papa! The stove!” The pot of water he was boiling to for the oatmeal overflowed, liquid sizzling on the hot burner. He quickly lifted the pot to the other side of the stove and turned off the burner. Kirishima sighed but smiled towards his giggling daughter behind him as he berated himself mentally for getting distracted.

~

Kirishima had had many plans for his future. Becoming a pining single dad was not one of those plans. His ex-wife, despite saying that she knew what she was getting into by being with a pro-hero when they’d started dating, gave up on their marriage three years in. She also left him alone with a beautiful two-year-old little girl. 

At first, they had shared custody. But over the years, he had slowly taken on all of the parental responsibility. By the time Minori was eight, Kirishima was the only parental figure in her life and lived with her father full time.

Kirishima got over his failed marriage and raised his daughter to the best of his ability, making sure to spend plenty of quality time. Even if it was an errand, he would go out of his way to make it fun. Grocery shopping was made to be like a scavenger hunt, letting his daughter lead him around looking for the needed items on the list while giving her hints, and it always ended with treats, even if it would possibly spoil both of their dinners. Even when stopping at the agency to do some quick paperwork, he always brought her around when he knew the others were on break there.

“Off, brat,” Bakugo grumbled as the black-haired child climbed up Bakugo’s back.

Minori just giggled, wrapping her arms around his throat, nearly choking him. “But Kacchan is so warm and smells like candy!”

“Seriously….what is with Shitty-Hair and his spawn clinging to me?”

“Aw, it’s not so bad, Kacchan.” Deku picked up the giggling child, spinning around the office while Bakugo sat at his desk filling out paperwork, ignoring them. Deku brought her back to his chest, hugging her tightly and her plump cheeks crushed against his own cheeks. “I want a baby!”

“You already have a screaming toddler at home,” Kaminari chuckled as he came up beside Kirishima’s desk, who was filling out some leave forms for Minori’s upcoming school break.

Deku placed Minori back on Bakugo’s lap, who begrudgingly let her sit on him. “I do?”

“Yeah. Blasty over there.” Kaminari leaned against Kirishima’s desk, shooting finger guns at Sero, who failed at covering up his snort.

Bakugo glared at Kaminari, leaning back with an arm around Minori. “I’m not a fucking toddler.”

Sero chuckled, spinning a pen between his fingers. “Notice that he doesn't deny that he screams at home.”

“Speaking of making people scream at home, how’s your dating life, Ei?” Kaminari rested an arm around Kirishima’s shoulders, who instantly went red, his hairline blending with his skin perfectly.

“Don’t be gross in front of a kid, idiots.” Bakugo pressed Minori against his chest, covering her ears before throwing a stapler at Kaminari.

The loud clatter shook Kirishima from his shock and he instantly scooted away from Kaminari, waving his hands in front of him. “D-dating? M-me? No way, dude.”

The room went quiet for a moment. “Seriously? You aren’t interested in anyone after… you know who?” Sero raised an eyebrow, asking what everyone was thinking.

“No! Not at all! Why would you say that? I need to focus on raising Minori while still trying to rise in the ranks. I have no time to even entertain the idea of d-dating! That’s completely out of the question. I’ve never once thought about—”

“You into someone aren’t you?” Bakugo stood up with Minori in his arms, interrupting Kirishima’s frantic ramble, having seen right through him. Years of translating Midoriya’s nervous rants gave Bakugo an unwanted, yet useful, skill of translating long-winded explanations. 

“It’s nothing…” Kirishima looked to the side, avoiding looking anyone in the eye. He could feel the pressure from their intense stares and sighed. “Okay, we’ve hardly even had an actual conversation… but there is this woman who lives across the street...”

Kaminari let out a low whistle. “Ooooh, a MILF for a neighbor. She gotta be super hot for you to notice.”

Bare legs bending down in the garden flashed in his mind. Kirishima could feel his cheeks get warmer as he buried his face in his hands. “Well, I…. just… she’s really pretty….”

Sero laughed and hooted for his friend, clapping loud enough that a few people started to look their way. “Go for it, bro!”

Deku waved the bystanders off to not mind them as Kirishima rested his head against his desk, groaning with embarrassment. “I don’t… I can’t…. I don't even know if she’s single…. And I'm so out of the game...”

“Dude, I’m not talking about you starting a relationship with her. Lonely housewife, single father hero; sounds like a plot to a really steamy—”

Bakugo slammed a hand over Kaminari’s mouth, Minori now clinging onto Bakugo’s back. “Dunce face, if you don’t shut the fuck up, I will cut your tongue out with a plastic spoon and shove it up your ass.” Kaminari nodded frantically out of fear. 

Bakugo huffed triumphantly, looking back at the kid he was currently giving a piggyback ride to. “And that’s how you get an idiot to stop talking. If anyone at school gives you shit, just do exactly that. Got it?”

“Got it.” Minori chirped, nodding her head in agreement.

“Bakubro…. please, no more defense lessons. I’d rather not get on a first name basis with the principal this year.” Bakugo rolled his eyes as he took Minori to the breakroom for a snack, continuing his lesson on how to verbally intimidate her enemies. Kirishima can’t say he didn’t try.

Midoriya sighed, holding a hand to his chest as the other patted Kaminari on the back as he gasped for air. “He’s so hot, all parental like that.”

“Oh yes, he’s the perfect fatherly figure that every child deserves in their lives,” Sero commented sarcastically, which went right over Deku’s head.

“But Kaminari is right. I think it’s time to put yourself out there again. If you want to start dating, I would be happy to ado-babysit, I meant babysit, for you.” They all looked at Deku, who was chuckling nervously while staring up at the ceiling.

“You really want a baby, don’t you?” Sero and Kaminari made eye contact before they got up and ran after Bakugo together. “Yo, Blasty! Come back and knock up Izuku before he steals Mini-shima!”

Midoriya chased after them, looking like a strawberry as he frantically tried to hold his teasing friends back. “You guys!! Stop it!”

After some more teasing of Deku’s obvious baby fever and probing of Kirishima about finally putting himself out there again, Kirishima and Minori were walking back to their home. He always checked his mail before going inside, but this time something else caught his eye. The sound of a hose had him turning around to see his neighbor conveniently spraying down a soapy car.

Kirishima’s jaw went slack as he watched water droplets run down your bare skin; those shorts should be illegal. He loves them. “You okay Papa? That’s not our mailbox.” Minori watched as Kirishima tried to put the mailbox key into the next-door neighbor’s mailbox next to theirs.

“Mhm, I see,” he mumbled as he watched you bend down in front of a bucket, pulling out a soapy sponge. 

Minori rolled her eyes. “Give me that.” She guided her father’s hand to the right mailbox, opening it and taking out the mail.

“So pretty…” Kirishima mumbled; it was a moment before he noticed his daughter crossing the street by herself. He looked down to his side; yup, she was no longer holding onto his hand. “Ah, Minori!”

She completely ignored her father as she ran up to you. “Excuse me, miss!”

You jumped back, turning off the hose as you looked down at the little girl in front of you. “Oh hello?”

“Are you married?” You blinked at her, completely thrown off by the question.

You tilt your head, not sure where this was going. “I…um…no?”

“Are you dating anyone?”

“Minori!” You see your neighbor across the street yell; he tried to cross the street but a passing car blocked his path.

The little girl just pointed back at the man who was now panting as he ran over. “Wanna date my Papa? He’s a pro-hero and Kacchan says my Papa is painfully single. My Papa also said you are really pretty. He almost burnt the house down staring at you. And you don’t have to worry about me; Uncle Zuzu said he’d watch me.”

Your neighbor, whose name you remembered was Kirishima, suddenly covered her mouth with one of his large hands but the damage was done. You giggled as she just looked up at her dad, annoyed. “Well aren’t you straight forward.” 

Kirishima chuckled nervously, rubbing a hand on his neck. “Yeah, kids, huh? They say the darndest and most embarrassing things….” You heard him whisper to her that she was so grounded, which she responded with another roll of her eyes.

You smile at their antics; they were a sweet pair. “I remember those days, I have a teenager myself.” You thought about your son, who was getting close to becoming a full grown adult.

“You have kids?”

“Just one; he’s spending a week at my ex-husband’s.” You hold up a finger on your left hand, showing off slightly the lack of a wedding ring on your finger. 

“Um, so single?” You nodded and his shoulders relaxed as a dopey smile spread on his face. It was so adorable. “That’s great….I mean, it’s not great that you are single, unless you want to be, then it's awesome…uh, I um….I don’t know where I’m going with this and I’m sorry.”

 The little girl looked up at her dad and whispered, “This is where you ask her out Papa.”

“Minori, shhhh.”

“She’s a cute one, and fiesty.” You pulled out a pen from your pocket and grabbed Kirishima’s very meaty arm and began to write your number. “I don't work on Fridays and Sundays.”

He looked down at his arm and then back at you, confused for a second before his eyes went wide. Luckily, Minori piped up for him and held out her hand. “Great, he’ll pick you up at seven on Friday.”

You giggled, shaking her hand in agreement. “It’s a date.”

#kirishima eijiro #kirishima eijirou #kirishima #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #single dad kirishima #fluff #minor bakudeku in the background #deku has baby fever #im deku #I have bad baby fever too

[naussensei]

Eruri Historical AU fic

Chapter 6 (excerpt)  Writing lessons

By the end of the week, Levi learnt from Hange that Erwin was strong enough to walk. He decided to pay him a visit in the hospital, he commented, and Hange asked him to deliver something for her.

When he reached the hospital room, he was surprised to see Erwin was not there.

There was only one place he could be, he imagined, and headed to Erwin’s office.

The door was open, so Levi peeked. Erwin was sitting behind his desk, focused on his papers. He did not notice Levi at the door, and Levi decided no knock either way to get his attention.

“Levi,” Erwin said when he noticed him at the door. “Come in, please.”

“I knew you would be here,” he hissed. He placed Hange’s package on the desk.

“Thanks”

“How’s your wound?”

Erwin shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt when I’m sitting. The only problem is the painkillers, they make me drowsy. I keep nodding off.”

Erwin now brought his fingers to pinch between his eyebrows.

Levi wasn’t sure what else to say. “Well, if you don’t need me, I’m gonna head back now-“

“Actually, Levi.”

“Yeah?”

“Can you help me sort out some paperwork? I’m sorry to ask you this, but I’m really tired, and behind on everything. I would normally ask Hange, but she’ll send me right back to the hospital.”

“Maybe you should be in the hospital then,” he argued.

Erwin titled his head, suggestively.

“Fine. What do you need?”

“I just need you to help me classify these files into different binders by last name.”

“I can do that.” He said, already sorting out the papers.

They continued to work like that in silence. Neither of them seemed to mind the absence of small talk, focused on their work.

Levi only noticed he was past his work schedule when he felt the sun setting outside, the faint gleam blinding him through the window.

“It’s late,” Levi observed.

Erwin checked his pocket watch. “Right. You should go home.”

“So, should you,”

“I will…”

Levi raised his eyebrows in accusation, waiting for a confession.

“I just have a few more things to go through and I’m done. You go ahead.”

“Why don’t do that tomorrow?” he protested, annoyed by his stubbornness.

Erwin remained quiet on his seat.

Levi scoffed. “Ok, what else do you need?” He offered.

Erwin debated whether to ask more of him or not. Levi did not look like he was going anywhere, and he decided it would be faster if they both worked at the same time.

“Can you write a letter for me?”

Levi’s eyebrows twitched.

Erwin read his face, and immediately realized his mistake. He tended to forget Levi came from a humble background. Most people would not know how to read or write.

“Sorry I… I assumed-”

“Of course I know how to write…” Levi growled, defensive. “I’m just not very good at it. I never had the need for it.”

He had learnt from his uncle a long time ago. However, the man was only around for a few years, not nearly enough to make a proficient writer out of him.

Erwin leaned back and tapped his fingers on the desk, an idea springing to his mind.

“I could help you.” He said, casually.

Levi scanned him, skeptical. “Who said I wanted help?”

Erwin took a deep breath, trying not to flip at his stubbornness. He reviewed his words carefully in his mind before he spoke, formulating the best way to persuade him.

“Listen,” he said, bringing the tip of his fingers together, “If you are going to work for me, I’m going to need you to write some letters and memos. And in the future, you may even get promoted, and you’ll have to deal with many documents and paperwork. So, consider this part of your job… part of your training, if you like.”

Levi caught his chin between his thumb and index, considering his offer. “And who is gonna teach me? You?” he laughed ironically.

Erwin Shrugged.

Levi lowered his hand. “You are serious?”

“I’ve tutored before when I was in school. My father was a teacher, I can’t be that bad, it’s in my blood.” He joked.

Levi chuckled. “I guess I’ll be the judge of that,” he said, now intrigued.

Erwin returned the smile, then signaled with his hand in front of his desk. “Take a seat please.”

Levi’s mouth dropped. “What… you mean like, now?”

Erwin’s smile grew wider.

Levi gulped, then took a seat in front of him. Erwin handed him paper and quill.

“It’s dark.” Levi noted. The sun now completely set into the horizon.

Erwin reached for matches inside the drawer of his desk. He was used to staying up late for work, he always kept a pair of boxes around. He lit the candle, and the room was covered in warm light.

“What do you want me to do?” asked Levi.

“Why don’t you start by writing something about yourself? That way I can evaluate to see what can be improved.”

Levi dipped the tip of the quill, hesitant, then stopped for a moment to think. What was particular about himself? He never really thought about it before. Should he write about what he liked? What he disliked?

He decided to start with the obvious.

                                                       My name is Levi Ackerman, I am 19 years old .

His hair fell into his eyes as he bent in a strange position to write. He tucked his hair behind his ear and felt Erwin’s eyes on him from across the table.

“Stop staring like an idiot, I feel observed. I can’t think of anything if you keep looking at me.”

“Sorry,” Erwin rushed to say, restraining an awkward smile and fixing his gaze on the corner of the room. “Just write anything you feel like. It doesn’t have to be personal.”

Levi looked up at the ceiling, as if trying to reach something in the back of his mind. A thought suddenly came to him, and a playful grin appeared in his face.

Erwin watched him write from the corner of his eye. Then waited for Levi to slide the paper across the desk for him.

Levi played with the quill between his fingers as he waited for Erwin’s reaction.

Erwin grabbed the paper and read it in his mind.

                                                            Erwin has funy eyebrows.

Erwin raised an eyebrow at him. He watched Levi pressing his knuckles to his mouth, the corner of his lips concealing a shy smile. Erwin had to bite on his lower lip in an attempt not to laugh, and a twisted smile stretched on his lips.

“Not too bad,” he admitted, shaking his head as he scribbled on the paper. “But you missed an ‘n’ in ‘funny’”

Levi’s lips now curled downwards, back to his regular expression, eyes squinting at him.

Erwin’s wrist now moving fast as he wrote another sentence. A smug smile on his face.

“Now, try copying this sentence to practice your handwriting,” Erwin slid the paper back to him, eyes impatient for his reaction. He ran a knuckle through his chin as he watched Levi read.    

Levi took his time to read the sentence, his mouth muttering silent words, furrowed eyebrows at their unfamiliar meaning.

“What’s that second word?” Levi lifted himself from his chair and stretched across the table to point at the word.

Erwin looked up at him, their foreheads nearly touching. “That’s ‘thighs’,” he said with confidence.

Levi read again the full sentence in his mind.

                                                                            Levi’s thighs are soft.

Levi’s eyebrows raised as he put the sentence together. An image of a wounded Erwin resting on his lap flashed through his mind. His jaw tensed as he sat back on the chair again in haste, heart beating in his ears. He scribbled with rage on the paper before he practically threw it back at him.

Erwin read it right away.

                                                 Fuck you.

Erwin now chuckled silently through his nose, his shoulders jumping as he restrained his laugh. Then he wrote another sentence.

Levi took the paper back, aggressively snatching it from his fingers, an eyebrow raised at Erwin before he shifted his gaze to the paper.

     Levi can be nice when he is not being rude. He is kinder than he thinks he is.

Levi’s face crumbled a little. His eyes softened, lowering his gaze, reflecting on his words.

Erwin gulped, anxious at Levi’s silence, his eyes fixed on him the whole time. Uncertain if he had understood the words.

Levi took a long time to stare at the note before he wrote again. Now calm and thoughtful.

As soon as he finished, Erwin’s hand flew across the table to reach for it.

Erwin is too naïve. But he is not a bad person. He is just anoying.

A smile grew on Erwin’s face as his eyes went over the messy handwriting a few times. Then turned his gaze to Levi again.

He was sitting back with an arm dangling behind the chair, his other hand on the table playing with the quill again, head low and eyes shifting constantly from the note to Erwin.

Read here

#Eruri #erwin levi #eruri fic #aot #snk #slow burn #enemies to friends to lovers

[wafflesetc]

Can you write one of your missing moments fic where Jamie makes sure Claire is ok after Bonnet attacked her?

Missing Moment from 5x10 

Anon Asked: Can you write one of your missing moments fic where Jamie makes sure Claire is ok after Bonnet attacked her?

A/N: I  am not sure *when* you want this to fall in the episode timeline, so I am placing it where it feels organic for me. I hope this lives up to your expectations. It’s also unbeta’d, so we’re just rolling with it now!

There had been a shift within her. He could see it in her shoulders and the way she was quiet while serving up their dinner.

She answered when she was spoken to, but other than that was silent in a way that was not his wife’s taste. 

He watched as their daughter sat next to her on the log. Brianna placed her hands on her mother's lap. Something was exchanged between them, he was too far away to hear, but whatever their daughter said eased something in his wife. He saw the tension leave her shoulders and the small  smile return to her face. 

Bree kissed Claire on the cheek and meandered off into the dimly lit campsite, presumably to her accommodations with Roger Mac on the outskirts of camp. 

“Uncle Jamie,” Ian quietly started, “It seems like Auntie Claire needs ye. I can stand guard alone for a few hours until Roger Mac takes his turn.” 

“Ian…” He wanted to argue, but he also knew that his nephew was right. Claire did need him, whether or not she knew it herself. 

“Bonnet is dead. We have no real threat tae worry about tonight.”  Ian was firm with his voice. “Go.” 

It took no more convincing. He nodded at Ian, stashing his knife in its holder.  He made his way through their home for the night. Claire jumped when she registered his presence which was unusual for her- she must have been deep in thought, somewhere two hundred years away.

“Christ, Jamie!” 

“I have been ordered to take ye in for the night.” He got down on one knee, tilting her face up towards his. “I didna mean to scare ye, Sassenach.”  

He kissed her forehead and stood up, reaching for her hand. She neither protested or said anything, but obliged, taking his hand and rising to her feet. 

She didn’t speak on the way to their tent, but rather, wrapped her arms around his waist, using his body to keep herself upright. 

Their tent was on the other end of the camp. Roger Mac and Bree’s tent on the opposite side. There had been an unspoken agreement between the men to set it up this way, so that the couples had as much privacy as a forest camp could give. 

“Ye needn’t be scared, Sassenach. I told ye once long ago, so long as I am with you… Nothing shall ever harm ye.” He pulled her into his embrace, enveloping her as if he were shielding her from whatever was to come their way. “And not just you- Brianna, Roger Mac, wee Jem- all our children and grandchildren.” 

She took a breath and nuzzled her head into his chest.

“As long as I am breathing on this Earth, ye will be safe.”

He knew he needn’t say it or remind her. They had long lived through things most people would never endure in one lifetime. Yet time and space for them, spanned years and centuries. Somehow they were always an exception to the rules of the universe. Their paths had crossed and she always made her way back to him. 

“I love you.” She whispered into his neck. He could feel the warmth of her tears on his neck. 

“It seems ye have something on yer mind, then.” He took a step back and examined her from head to toe. “Ye look well, though. Wee bit tired, I see the line on yer forehead.” 

That earned him a laugh and a shake of her head. “I’m fine, Jamie. Really.” 

She reached for the buttons on her jacket, undoing each one methodically. “It’s been an exhausting few days… I just want to be home.” 

He crept down to sit on their makeshift pallet, truth was, he was bone tired too. They had spent the last two days in an exhausting adrenaline rush and it was starting to creep up on them. He followed suit, undoing his belt and own jacket, admiring the view of Claire’s routine of getting herself ready for  bed.

One of his favorite parts of his day was always asking if she wanted her stays undone. It was always his way of regrounding himself to her, the simple touch and undoing of all the bad that happened during the day. 

“C’mere,” He reached for her hand and pulled her back into his orbit.  “I’ll undo yer stays.” 

“Mhmmm.” She moaned, but she didn’t stop him. Quickly and efficiently he had her undone within seconds and once she realized he was done, leaned into his sturdy frame.

His hands found her shoulders and he massaged her in circles. Claire let out soft moans of pleasure and it put a smile on his face. 

“Yer shoulders are tight, Sassenach. Ye must have been stressed.” 

His hands made their way from her shoulders and upwards towards her neck and the base of her skull. She winced when he touched the right side.

“Christ, Claire.” He was alarmed, “Are ye hurt?”  

She turned to face him then, taking her hair from out of the bun it had been in. “No…”  She shook her head, allowing her curls to fall free. “I mean, yes but  it’s nothing.” 

“It didna seem like nothing, I could barely touch yer head…” He was alarmed now.

“Bonnet knocked me out on the beach with something.. Probably the handle of a gun. It was a solid whack. I’ve got a nice contusion on the back of my head.” 

“Claire…” He was trying to keep his temper at bay, even though it was directed towards a dead man. “Ye winced like a horse that was scared.” 

“It’s sore to the touch, that’s what a contusion is.” She reached for his hand and guided it towards the  back of her head. “Feel, it’s a wee little bump on my head. Nothing a little Brufen couldn’t fix in my time.” 

He shook his head in dismay. She called him daft more often than not, especially when it came to his own well-being, but he was being honest she was just as bad as he was. 

“Doesna feel like nothing…” He could feel the tips of his ears turning red, “And Christ ye couldna tell me this the day it happened!” 

He could see his wife starting to go into defensive mode, “There was a lot happening at the time and I am a doctor. I knew I was perfectly fine.” 

He put his hands on his face, closed his eyes, and shaking his head. Of course his wife was right, rationally he knew this, yet it was his one job to keep her safe. Whenever she was in harm’s way it scared him to his innermost being. 

If anything were to happen to her.

And like always, she knew what he was thinking, without even needing to say it. Her hands were prying them away from his face and she trailed kisses down the line of his jaw. 

“I am safe.” She kissed his lips, “Jamie look at me.”  

He opened his eyes to find hers intently on his. 

“I am safe. You are here. We are whole.” 

He pulled her towards him and laid them down on the pallet, aligning it so his body was almost over taking hers. She rubbed circles on his hands until her touch dwindled down to nothing, and he knew she was asleep. 

Safe.

Breathing.

With him.

He stayed awake and vigilant, all night, praying she’d always be like this in his arms. 

#Outlander #Jamie x Claire #Outlander fanfic #OL: Missing Moment #OL: 5x10 #myfic! #craigh na queue #Anonymous

[adventuresinwonderlust]

Title: “Have you heard about that Min boy?” Prequel Part: 2

Pairing: dom! Yoongi x sub! brat! Reader

Warnings: smut, fluff, slight angst, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), trigger warning!! abusive parent.

Rating: 18 and over

“A date!” You say aloud to your BFF as you toss clothing from your closet. “Like a date date or a booty call date?” She asks seemingly uninterested whilst scrolling through her phone. “A date date. He said to dress nice, that we would be having dinner.” You pull out a black tube top mini dress and place it in front of your body as you look it over in the mirror. “Well?” You ask you BFF who pays no mind. You turn and toss a rolled-up shirt from the ground at her. “Ahh, what? Sorry if I am not too enthusiastic about you going out with this guy. He seemed like such a jerk at Joon’s party. I don’t know.” You shoot her an angry look. “That's hot, wear it, but I stand by my last statement. Besides, have you heard all the rumors swirling around about him. I would steer clear.” You pull the dress on, thinking over what she's saying. You had heard the rumors about Min Yoongi. He was a bad boy, a playboy, a rich kid, a spoiled entitled jerk, hot, untouchable, yet for some reason it was all these things that made you want more and more of him. If what happened at Namjoon’s party was any indication of the things to come, you couldn’t wait to find out more about that sultry Min boy. It had been a long time since anyone had come into your life and taken the reigns the way he did that night and you were so ready to be all his. You do your makeup, curl your hair and put on some sexy heels. You were so ready to be dominated. “Drop me off at home on your way to see Satan.” Your BFF says. You chuckle and agree.

“Goodnight Daddy!” You yell into the house before heading into the garage. You drop your friend off and use your GPS to take you to Yoongi’s house. You park in the driveway and make your way up the stairs, knocking on the black door marked 33. The door is opened by a tall slender man in a suit. “Hi,” He says looking you over, “They are in the study talking. I am assuming you're a friend of Yoongi’s. It may be best to wait in your car.” He tells you. You feel your face flush. “Let her in, Cho.” You hear Yoongi command, the man in the suit stands tall and pulls the door open for you to enter before bowing to Yoongi. You enter and are greeted by a kiss on the cheek, as Yoongi pulls you close. He’s in light denim and a leather jacket. “You said dress up.” You remark at his outfit. He bites his bottom lip and looks you over. “I am dressed up and you look amazing. You know I would've worn a certain Dior outfit but if I can recall it was ruined by someone.” He pulls you close to him and kisses your lips hard. You push him away, bashful at the watchful eyes of the man in the suit. “I don’t know what you're talking about Yoongi.” You reply coyly. He smirks, interlocking your fingers with his. “We should get going.” He whispers into your ear. “Yoongi!” A deep voice shouts causing you to jump. You go to pull away from Yoongi’s body, but he still has your fingers interlocked together and only draws you closer. “I am not done with you.” The man says with a nod towards the room he just appeared from. “Is this a bad time?” You whisper to Yoongi. “No baby,” He kisses you gently, “Wait for me here. This won't take long.” He assures and walks over to the room. You remain in the same spot and watch as Yoongi disappears into the room with the click of the door behind him. The man in the suit still sits in the living area. “They’ve been at it for over an hour.” He mumbles while staring at you. “Who?” You foolishly ask. “Yoongi and his father, he's disrespectful that boy. Always giving his father trouble, the problem child that one.” He remarks with disdain. “And who are you?” You ask defensively. “His uncle,” He leans back on the couch now and crosses his legs, “I assume you’re the latest flavor. Quite the appetite that boy. Has never brought one to the house however, so that’s gotta count for something……. or not?” He shrugs. You swallow down an angry lump in your throat, kicking yourself for wearing something so revealing. You can feel his Uncle’s eye on you, examining your exposed skin.

Suddenly, you hear Yoongi shouting. “I didn’t want to move to this fucking place. You cheated; You lied; you ruined the family. If anyone brings dishonor to this house, it’s you!” He shouts. Your anxiety shoots through the roof as you scan the room to not seem nosey. When the door yanks open you jump slightly. Yoongi appears red faced. “My father would love it if you could join the family for dinner this evening.” He says through clenched teeth, his father looming in the hall. Your jaw drops as you look from Yoongi to his father and back again. You start to ramble as Yoongi takes your hand and squeezes gently. “Would you like to sit and have dinner with me and my family?” His tone changes and appearance soften with this next ask. You nod and Yoongi quickly whips around and bows to his father. “Come y/n, I’ll show you to the washroom.” He says, leading you down the hall and past the watchful eyes of his father. “What was that about?” You ask. Yoongi is silent until you reach the washroom. “Dominance.” He mumbles, waving you inside. “I don’t understand and now I feel under dressed.” He smiles slightly. “I can grab you a jacket if you’d like and honestly, I stopped trying to understand my father long ago. Now we just coexist. Don’t worry baby, I’ll be here with you. One quick dinner and you’ll have me all to yourself. Would you like that?” He says seductively as he stands behind you and wraps his body around yours. “Yes.” You moan while washing your hands. His eyes go dark with lust. “Yes, what?” He whispers in your ear before biting down on your neck, suckling at the aching spot soon after. “Yes, sir.” You whimper at the feel of his hot tongue on your neck. He lightly squeezes your breast before running his hands slowly down your torso. “So sexy. Finish washing up and I’ll be back with a jacket for you.” You nod, feeling the cold rush of your bodies disconnecting as he walks off into the house.

Yoongi returns with a black suit jacket and helps you into it. You both look the fit over in the mirror. “Perfect, like my sexy little brat.” He whispers to you. You smile while buttoning the top button of the jacket. “Come, let’s get this over with.” He holds his hand out for you to take. You grasp his hand as he leads you back towards the front of the house and off to the dining area. The table is already set with his father seated at the head of the table. To his right is an unknown woman and to his left the creepy uncle. Yoongi pulls the chair out for you beside the unknown woman and takes his seat next to his uncle. “So, y/n, how long have you been seeing my son?” Yoongi's father smiles at you. “Just a few weeks.” You reply. Yoongi doesn't look towards his father at all, instead opting to stare directly at you. The eye contact, you find, keeping you calm. “My son doesn't really do girlfriends or perhaps he does too many.” His father scoffs. You shift uncomfortably in your seat. “A learned behavior.” Yoongi states matter of fact, never breaking eye contact with you. “Y/n, meet my step mother, Kim Lee An.” Yoongi smirks, pointing to the woman beside you. You turn and smile at her and she gives you a tight lip smile in return. “Min, her last name is now Min.” His father corrects. You nod in response. Just as Yoongi opens his mouth to speak, dinner is being served by two chefs. You feel relief wash over you as everyone now focuses on their meals. “Looks delicious.” You remark out loud but no one says anything in return.

Everyone begins eating, everyone but Yoongi that is, who is seemingly swirling food around on his plate. You stare at him now, hoping to catch his attention. He finally looks up from his plate and you silently ask if he's OK. He smiles at you but says nothing. “We should get going.” Yoongi announces, standing from the table. “You haven't eaten,” his father remarks, “You insult the chef.” Yoongi gives his father an annoyed look. “The chef will live.” Yoongi comments, holding his hand out to you. “Such disobedience brother.” Yoongi's uncle instigates. “I agree.” The step mother chimes in. Yoongi shoots her a look meant to kill. “Let's go y/n.” Yoongi says between clenched teeth. You immediately stand. “Yoongi,” his father shouts while quickly approaching causing you both pause in your tracks. “You dishonor me.” His father seethes before swiftly back handing Yoongi across the face. You gasp, jumping and covering your mouth with your hand. For what feels like forever, Yoongi and his father stare at one another. Not sure of what to do, you grab Yoongi's hand and squeeze gently. “Let's just go.” You urge. Yoongi finally breaks eye contact and looks at you, nodding and leading you to the door.

You jump into Yoongi's car and he takes off driving. You both say nothing but the tension is palpable. You wonder for a moment where you are going and what he's thinking. “Do you want to talk?” You ask. “No.” He responds. “I don't understand what happened back there.” You urge. Yoongi's face reddened and although you stare, he says nothing. Soon, he slams his palms on the wheel causing you to jump. You take a deep breath, watching as his knuckles begin to turn white with his tightened grip on the wheel. He pushes firmly on the gas and the car begins to speed up. You find your heart accelerating with the realization setting in that Yoongi is beyond upset. “Yoongi, slow down.” You shout feeling panic set in. He says nothing, never even pulling his eyes from the road. The tires screech against the pavement as he cuts quickly around a corner. You yelp at the feeling of your stomach dip. “Please.” You pant, closing your eyes and placing your hand on his arm. Soon the car screeches to a full stop and the only sound left is your heart pounding in your ears and Yoongi panting breathlessly. “Yoongi…” You finally manage, opening your eyes only to be greeted by a hard and desperate kiss. Yoongi grips on the back of your neck, pulling you closer to his wanting tongue. You sigh into the kiss, allowing Yoongi to take full control. He growls quietly, taking a grip of your ass. Your tongues continue to swirl around one another until Yoongi breaks the kiss sucking gently on your lower lip. “Come here. I need you.” He whispers, unbuttoning his jeans to release his thick veiny cock. You moan at the sight of him brazenly stroke his length, feeling your juices flow and pussy seize.

He leans his seat back allowing space for you to join him. “Come.” He says again, this time reaching for you. You swallow, desperately and clumsily making your way across the gear shift causing Yoongi to chuckle softly. He helps you to get into a comfortable position above his cock. “I’ve never done this. I didn’t even take my panties off.” You whisper to him, lowering your hand to take over stroking his glorious member. He groans at your touch, licking his lips, watching you intently with lust in his eyes. “I don’t care. I just need you, need to feel you, be close to you.” He replies softly before rubbing your now drenched cunt through your panties. You toss your head back at the feeling of pleasure that courses through you. “More.” You whine, grinding yourself into his hand. “My greedy little brat.” He smirks whilst quickly yanking your panties to the side causing you to grip his shoulders for balance as he suddenly hitches his hips up to shove the whole of his cock into you. You both cry out at the feeling. “So, fucking tight.” He whispers into your ear before grabbing your ass with his cool large hands. Slowly, he guides you from root to tip, allowing your stretched cunt to adjust to his girth. You bite your lip at how amazing every ridge of his cock feels against your needy walls. “God, you feel so fucking good.” You shout, surprised at how quickly your orgasm begins to rise up into your belly. You wrap your arms around his neck, lifting your left knee onto the gear shift and begin to thrust only your waist, hastening your pace faster and faster unto Yoongi’s cock. You both stare directly into each other eyes, out of breath, listening to the lurid sounds of each other’s combined arousal fill the small space. As you look over Yoongi’s beautiful face, you feel your heart fill with a ton of emotions that cause thousands of thoughts to race through head. It causes you to be brave. “You like the feel of this cunt around your cock baby?” You ask, waiting for him to stop you, to take control, but instead he just moans and groans watching you ride him before taking you by the mouth. He sucks and licks at your lips and tongue, moving down to your neck, peppering you with kisses. You try to remember another time you’ve felt so connected and consumed by another man before.

“Fuck,” You exclaim, feeling the tension in your belly rise, “I don’t ever want this to end.” You admit. “You’re so beautiful.” Yoongi moans into your chest trailing kisses downward, yanking your top to reveal your breast. Your nipples stand at attention as the cool air hits them. Yoongi waste no time wrapping his mouth around your right nipple, tugging and twirling it between his teeth causing you to yelp and moan. “Oh God! Yoongi….” You barely manage as you feel your heat reach its boiling point. “Cum on my cock baby. Show me how much you love my cock.” He smirks between your breast before moving to the left nipple, tugging and suckling until your body begins to quake. Your release crashing over you in long hot waves causing you to call out his name. “I’m going to cum baby. You ready for me to fill up your sweet cunt?” He groans, gripping your hips. “Yes, God, yes. Fill me up. I need to feel you inside of me.” The pressure from your tightening cunt causes him to grip your hips tightly while he slams his cock deep within you, his swollen tip pressing right against your cervix as his release quickly engulfs him and his seed spurts out into you, coating your sensitive walls. He holds you in place in his lap until his cock has settled inside you and he has finished riding his high. “That was amazing.” You tell him, pushing your forehead against his. He grabs you by the chin and pulls you into a gentle kiss. “What's gotten into you Min? Because whatever it is. I think I like it.” You laugh. Yoongi chuckles. “Don't get used to it, let's just say you caught me at a vulnerable time.” You smile, brushing his hair from his face. “I think I like that you can be vulnerable with me.” You whisper to him. He scoffs and shake his head. “I don't know if I like it y/n.” He replies. “Why is that?” You tease him now by grinding your pussy into his lifeless cock. He grabs you tightly by the hair and yanks your head back causing you to gasp. He plants kisses along your exposed neck and along your jaw before whispering in your ear. “Because I make rules here brat. Is that understood?” You moan at the feeling of his growing erection against your moistened lips. “Yes. Yes.” You pant, sliding your slick lips along his shaft. “Yes, what?” He growls. “Yes, sir!” You cry out as he slowly enters you once more.

#bts smut #suga x reader #yoongi smut

[chaostheoryy]

Caught [Ben Solo X Reader]

(Gif credit: @fandomjumper​)

Summary: You and Ben are training partners and disciples of Master Skywalker. One night, when your troublesome brain keeps you up with thoughts about your padawan companion, he catches you staring and confronts your restlessness in a rather unexpected way.

Word Count: 1,587

Rating: General

A/N: Unlike most of my imagines, this one isn’t based on a prompt but rather a dream I had. I haven’t written for Ben in soooo long so forgive me if his character doesn’t feel completely on target.

His face is all you see in the darkness of the hut. There’s a streak of moonlight shining through the open window that paints his cheek in a silvery glow and makes the freckles on his face stand out like the stars in the night sky. His long, black lashes flutter slightly as he dreams and the way his hair drapes across his forehead makes you want nothing more than to brush it all away with your hand. You know you shouldn’t even let the thought cross your mind but it happens anyway: he’s beautiful.

“It’s rude to stare, you know.”

Your heart skips at the sound of Ben’s voice and you force yourself to swallow back a gasp as his eyes slowly open.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you reply, “Not exactly much to look at in here. It’s either you or the walls. And frankly, I’ve spent far too much time looking at them.”

He chuckles sleepily and nestles his head deeper into the pillow beneath him.

“At least my face is a lot easier on the eyes than this stupid hut,” he murmurs, “I’d probably want to appreciate the masterpiece of my complexion if I were you too.”

“Okay, don’t get all cocky about it, Solo. I never said I wanted to stare it you. And I am certainly not implying that it’s something I’m enjoying.”

You can’t help but blush as one of those smug, lop-sided grins finds its way onto his lips.

“Then put me in my place and tell me I’m the ugliest creature you’ve ever seen.”

“You’re not—“ You cut yourself off and frown at him. “Stop instigating me.”

There’s an obvious layer of playful sarcasm in his deep, drowsy voice as he responds, “Instigating you? Now why would I do that?”

“You tell me.”

He adjusts his position, sliding closer to you as he looks you dead in the eyes. He’s so close now, you can feel his kneecap gently pressing up against your leg. A part of you wants to turn away before your heart starts beating so hard that your sternum cracks but you hold your ground. You’re not weak like the other padawans make you out to be.

“You really want to know why?”

You refuse to break eye contact as you nod.

“I do.”

There’s a darkness in his gaze that isn’t at all unfriendly. He’s in a position of power and he knows it. He looks down at your mouth for the briefest second before locking eyes again.

“Because I love making you squirm,” he whispers lowly.

You’re more than happy that you’re laying down at that moment because your knees would have buckled had you been standing. Suddenly very aware of the weight of your stomach and the saliva in your mouth, you swallow hard.

“You want me to fight you?” You murmur defensively in an attempt to distract yourself from the hammering in your chest, “’Cause I won’t hesitate if that’s the case. We can step outside right now and I’ll force you to the ground just like I did during training this morning.”

The corner of Ben’s mouth twitches in amusement but that domineering look in his eyes remains.

“No, no. I don’t want to fight. I want something else.” His eyes wander down to your lips again and this time he lets them linger there. “And I think you want it too.”

As if his stare alone has the ability to heat your entire body, your lips go dry and, before you can stop it, your tongue darts out to wet them. You know he sees it too because that smirk is pulling at his mouth once more. How he knows what you want before you’ve even allowed yourself the thought of wanting it is beyond your understanding.

His hand reaches out to grab yours and you let him take it. Long fingers slip between yours as he brings your palm up to rest on his chest. Even through his clothes, you can feel the warmth of his body.

“Touch me,” he breathes out in encouragement, “The way you’ve been wanting to.”

You obey his command without a second thought, allowing your hand to wander up to the collar of his tunic where your fingertips begin to trace the lines of his neck muscles. His Adam’s apple bobs gently underneath your touch as he swallows but you can tell it’s not from nerves. He’s holding himself back, restraining his own desires to allow you to explore. 

Your fingers comb through his raven black hair for a few moments before you drag your palm slowly over his cheek. Fingertips ghost over his jawline until they settle on his chin less than an inch from his bottom lip. His mouth instinctively opens ever so slightly and his hot breath tickles your skin. Goosebumps crawl up your arm.

“Can I kiss you?”

You pry your gaze from his jaw to look in his eyes. The dominance is still there but there’s now a mixture of affection and desperation as well. 

“Yes,” you whisper as your hand slides back down to his collar.

“Tell me where.”

You blink at the command. From the moment he caught you staring, he’s been in charge and yet now, at the peak of the tension, he hands the reigns over to you. As little sense as it makes, you accept the change and begin thinking of where it is you want those lips of his to touch. 

“Cheeks.”

He obliges, leaning forward to press a long kiss to your left cheek. His lips are warm and wet against your skin and their touch makes your stomach churn just thinking about what they might feel like against your own. But you’re not going to give in just yet. He needs to earn it.

He presses a kiss to your other cheek before pulling back to wait for the next command.

“Forehead.”

Ben cranes his neck and does as instructed, planting another lingering kiss to your forehead just below the hairline. It’s an action so gentle and so affectionate that it shouldn’t make you crave anything more and yet you do. You want so badly to beg for that final kiss and feel the relief of knowing you’ve gotten what you need and, judging by the look in his eyes as he settles back down in front of you, you know he’s just as desperate to give it to you.

“Lips,” you finally exhale.

You half expect his entire body to come crashing into yours but, to your surprise, he’s just as patient and collected now as he’s been thus far. His lips gently capture yours, your noses pressing into each other’s cheeks as you kiss. Without so much as a fleeting thought, you let your eyes flutter closed and reach up to cup your hand over the side of his neck. How a man of his stature and confidence can kiss you so delicately, you’ll never quite understand.

Just as you’re about to tilt your head and deepen the kiss, he pulls away and stares at you with those dark, mysterious eyes. There’s so much love and understanding in them that you swear they might suffocate you.

“How did you know?”

“I had a feeling. Plus it’s not the first time I’ve caught you staring at me.”

He takes your hand in his once again. Your cheeks flush a soft shade of pink. He chuckles. 

“Don’t worry,” he adds with a smile, “I’ve been staring at you when you’re not looking too.”

You give him a look as you ask, “Are you implying that I’m not as observant as you are?”

“Maybe…”

You finagle your hand out of his grasp and, with a haughty sigh, roll over so that your back is to him. Even without being able to see his reaction, you know this is only instigating him even further.

“Oh, come on. Don’t throw a tantrum.”

You hold your position but soon feel a strong arm hook itself around your waist and pull you backwards. Ben’s torso leans heavily against your back and a pair of supple lips press a soft kiss just below your ear.

“You’re as stubborn as they come,” he murmurs softly in your ear.

“You’re one to talk.”

A deep chuckle rumbles in his throat.

“Guess that’s why we make a good team.”

Ben sighs as he settles down behind you, nuzzling his nose against the back of your neck. His breath is perfectly warm on your skin and the weight of his arm on your waist provides a comfort you didn’t even know you needed.

For a moment, you lay there, appreciating the sensation of his body pressed against yours. But it isn’t long before concern comes knocking at the door in your head. You swallow.

“We probably shouldn’t sleep like this,” you whisper, “Master Skywalker could come in at any time. If he knew we were…” You pause, not really sure how to put your budding relationship into words. “He’s not going to be pleased.”

“Relax. My uncle’s not going to find out. I’ll be awake long before he makes his rounds in the morning, I promise. Just go to sleep.”

You accept his reassurance and let your head settle deep in the pillow. It doesn’t take long for the exhaustion to take its hold and, within minutes, you find yourself falling asleep to the sound of steady breathing and a soft “I love you” that fades into the night air like mist.

#Oh my god y'all it has been so long #But I've done it #I've written a thing #This is probably going to flop and not get any notes but who cares #I actually did something and I am proud #Yeehaw #Ben Solo Imagine #Ben Solo X Reader #Star Wars Imagine #Reader Insert #My fic #Star Wars Reader Insert #Pre-Force Awakens #Pre-TFA #Ben Solo #Adam Driver Imagine

[bostoniangirl85]

Inspector Gadget (80s verse) fanfic preview

This follows directly from this scene. Penny is 16, a few days shy of 17, and finally gives Quimby and the other Powers-That-Be a piece of her mind.^^

Note: No incest here, just a lot of strong family-feels involving a cyborg who can’t experience human touch the same way other people can, and one very protective, pissed-off niece.  ;)

When Quimby knocked on their hotel room door later that night and received no answer, he cautiously opened the door, somewhat surprised to find it unlocked. Gadget had been ferociously protective of Penny since they had been reunited and the fact that he had forgotten to lock the door spoke to how exhausted the man must be.

There was a lamp still on in the far corner of the room, casting a soft, golden glow in the small, dingy room. Penny was stirring in the bed, blinking in confusion at the chief. Quimby was somewhat startled to see Gadget curled up next to her on top of the covers, one arm draped over Penny as he snored softly, utterly exhausted.

Not wanting to wake an over-protective cyborg, Quimby silently gestured to the girl that he wanted a word with her in private. Penny nodded and he watched, bemused and a bit disconcerted, as the girl wiggled out from underneath her uncle’s arm.

Gadget mumbled something in his sleep, stirring. Quimby tensed but before he could say or do anything Penny leaned down and stroked Gadget’s mussed hair, stilling him. He watched as the girl kissed her uncle’s brow before following Quimby out into the hallway.

“What do you want, Chief Quimby?” said Penny, her expression unreadable. Her face was pale and drawn and she looked very frail in the oversized bathrobe, t-shirt, and shorts she was wearing. 

Quimby sighed. “Penny, listen. I’m glad you’re safe but I have to agree with Fred on this. You need to get some space from your uncle.” Penny stared at him for a moment before speaking.

“How dare you,” she said, her voice low and furious. “How dare you.”

“Penny,” sighed Quimby, taking his pipe out of his mouth as he frowned at the furious teenager. “You’ve been through a lot, and we think...” She cut him off before he could finish. “You have no right to judge my uncle, or my relationship with him. None.” “Penny, listen...” “No, you listen, Chief Quimby.” 

Quimby stared in surprise. Penny had never been so rude to him before. But then, she wasn’t ten years old anymore either, he reminded himself.

“I’m not a little child anymore, and I am done with letting you, Fred, Interpol, and everyone else play games with my uncle’s life, and mine too. He’s a human being, not a machine or toy that you can use and toss away once you’ve finished with it!”

Quimby was starting to look more than a little intimidated and it would have been almost funny if Penny hadn’t been halfway to tears. “And furthermore,” she continued, her voice shaking with emotion, “he is the best man I know. He’s not perfect but at least he’s honest, which is more than can be said for you, the Metro PD, Interpol, and whoever else was in on this!” “Now see here, Penny-” “No! I’m almost seventeen and I’ll be damned if I let you take away my only family, or keep hurting him.”

“Listen, Penny, all they were suggesting was that you and Gadget get some space from each other, given everything that’s happened these past few months...” “Which never would have happened if his memories and mental functions hadn’t been suppressed in the first place!”

“He’s too dependent on you! You’re too close to each other! It’s not healthy, not nor-”

Quimby stopped, knowing he was toeing a very thin line.

“Not normal?” Penny finished in a soft, sad voice, the anger gone. “That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it?”

Quimby couldn’t meet her gaze, focusing instead on his cold pipe. Penny was silent for a moment before speaking again.

“Do you know he can barely feel anything with his hands?” The chief looked up, stunned. “I-I didn’t...he never mentioned...” “No, he wouldn’t have. But did you even bother to ask?” Quimby looked away, flushing with shame.

“You think I haven’t heard some of the ugly things people have said about him over the years? And about me?” Quimby looked up at that, shock in his face. He hadn’t known... Penny sagged, suddenly looking small and very vulnerable. “It’s gotten better over the past few years - that’s why he always wears gloves, you know - but I had always wondered as a child why he never really held me.” Quimby was stunned. He had no idea.

“Uncle Gadget’s never said so outright, but I know he’s afraid of hurting me. Do you know he actually once calculated how many pounds per square inch of force he can exert with just his hands?” “Penny...”

“That’s why it’s easier for him to show physical affection in other ways...he still has most of his nerve endings in his face...at least they didn’t take all feeling away from him,” Penny added bitterly, swiping a tear away as she spoke.

Quimby had heard enough. This was getting far too personal. “Alright, Penny, now just calm down...” “Don’t talk to me like I’m still a child, Chief Quimby. I’ve heard enough of that from Fred. I don’t need to hear it from you.” Quimby closed his mouth, stunned.

“I know what you’re thinking. But you’re wrong. Imagine if you couldn’t experience touch like other people could - that you could never be certain if you were holding your wife or son too tightly. That’s what my uncle feels. He’s never said so out loud but I know him.” Penny paused and drew in a deep, shuddering breath.

“My uncle has always treated me with kindness and respect. He’s never once done anything to make me uncomfortable, even when his memories were still locked down.

“He’s cared for me when I was sick, comforted me when I had nightmares, made sure I ate well, did well in school, everything a parent should do. And all without any help from anyone.” Quimby was now feeling thoroughly ashamed. “I...Penny...” “And after all of that, the least I can do is let him show me physical affection the only way he knows how - the only way he feels safe doing so. I know he worries about hurting me and he’d rather kiss me on the head or hand than hold me, and that is more than fine with me.”

She stopped, breathing hard. Quimby couldn’t think of a single thing to say in his defense. 

“And you have the nerve to stand there and repeat those...those ugly...” Penny paused and swallowed hard. “Insinuations,” was the only word she could think of. 

“Penny, no one meant...” “Oh, they meant it, Chief Quimby, and I think you did too. I saw the look on your face earlier.” The chief sighed. “You’re right, Penny. But I still think you need some space from him.”

“If that’s the case, then I’m too dependent on him as well.

“Uncle Gadget, Brain, and I may not be a ‘normal’ family, but we’re all three outcasts in some way. I wouldn’t trade that for anything, but if we’re too dependent on each it’s because everyone else has shunned us in some way.”

“I’m not sure I can let this go, Penny.” “You can and you will.” “Are you threatening me, young lady?” Quimby snapped back, trying to regain control of the conversation. “No, I’m actually blackmailing you,” she quipped back, smiling grimly as he jaw dropped open.

“When I was thirteen I was nearly taken away from my uncle. I’m not going to let that happen again. I’m not sure what Uncle Gadget plans to do now that he’s resigned, but we’ll take it one day at a time.” Quimby shook his head. “You’re just as stubborn as your uncle.” “Yes, and I learned other things from him as well - things like honesty, duty, and always standing up for other people, even if doing so makes you unpopular.”

She turned on her heel to go back to the warmth and safety of her uncle’s arms, Quimby’s tired voice trailing behind her.

“For what it’s worth, I was trying to protect you both,” said Quimby quietly. Penny nodded.

“I do understand that, truly, Chief. And I am grateful for that.” “Penny.” She stopped but didn’t turn around. 

“I know this probably won’t mean much now, but...Gadget did a fine job raising you.”

She turned around at that. Quimby looked old and tired but he managed to give her a small smile.

“Yes, he did.”

#inspector gadget #inspector gadget 80s #penny gadget #chief quimby #gadget finds out #protective inspector gadget #inspector gadget fanfic #fanfic preview #A Man's Worth

[purrincess-chat]

Kill Em With Kindness CH3

It is finished! Now I can move on to chapter 1 of Dogrien to post this week~ I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Uncle Jagged has made his entrance and now things are about to get interesting.

Read on AO3

Chapter 3

“Knock, knock!”

Marinette paused her sewing, a wicked smile curling on her lips as Adrien climbed up carrying a plate of warm cookies.

“From your dad,” he said, holding them up before setting them on her desk and pulling up a chair. “How’s your Ladybug sweater coming along?”

“Great! I was just sewing up the seams now,” she said, smoothing over the red and black sweater that read ‘Ladybug’s bff’ on the front. “With her compromised immune system, I’d hate for Lila to catch a cold from the chilly weather in London on our field trip this week.”

“Wouldn’t that be a shame?” Adrien agreed, cupping a hand to his cheek. “Well, I successfully got Mr. D’Argencourt to give her some one-on-one time to make up her PE grade. He made sure she paced herself and didn’t put too much stress on that bad ankle of hers. It’s a shame she didn’t finish in time to get ice cream with all of us.”

“Well, school is important. We don’t want her to fail the term, do we?” Marinette said with an overly sarcastic tone.

“Of course not! That would just be awful.” He nodded, and they both broke into a fit of giggles. “By the way, I have some good news.”

“Oh?” Marinette quirked a brow, grabbing a cookie.

“Guess when Lila’s birthday is?” Adrien smirked, and she pursed her lips.

“Dunno, when?”

“Some time in August, but guess what I overheard her telling Marc when he asked her to beta read their next comic since she’s such good friends with Ladybug?” He rolled his eyes. “She said she can’t help him because she’s going to Achu with her mother this weekend to celebrate her birthday.”

“But it’s only March,” Marinette said, eyes narrowing. “That brat totally blew them off.”

“Yeah, but it gives me an idea,” he said, tapping his chin. “Okay, so you know how we all planned a big surprise party for you this year?”

“How can I forget? My grandmother got akumatized,” Marinette said pointedly.

“Well, what if we threw Lila a party this Friday before she ‘leaves’ to go to Achu?” He suggested, and Marinette tilted her head to the side in thought.

“What if we centered it around all of her lies? We could have tons of recycle bins for her anti-pollution campaign, we can have the local shelter bring out a bunch of adoptable animals since she loves volunteering, and we can even get Jagged to send a bunch of signed posters for everyone,” Marinette said.

“You’re a despicable genius, Marinette. I’m a little scared.” Adrien eyed her with a smirk, and she turned her nose up.

“Lila had it coming. She did get me expelled,” she said with a defensive huff.

“Not arguing with that. I just hope I never get on your bad side,” he chuckled. “So, what’s our first move?”

“First, we plant the bait for everyone, then we set the trap for Lila. Alya and Mylene volunteer at the animal shelter frequently, so I’m sure they can handle that, and Sabrina’s dad has an in with the city for the recycling bins,” Marinette listed.

“What about Jagged?” Adrien asked, and a sly grin curled on her lips.

“Leave Jagged to me.”

***

“Hello, Penny,” Marinette greeted the following afternoon outside Jagged’s suite.

“Marinette, it’s good to see you, but what are you doing here?” Penny tilted her head to the side.

“Did you say Marinette’s here? Rock on! Let her in,” Jagged called from the grand piano in the middle of the room. “Yo, Marinette, you have to check this new song I’m working on.”

Penny blinked in confusion but stepped aside nonetheless, and Marinette entered with an appreciative smile. Jagged perked up upon seeing her and scooted over to make room for her on the bench.

“What brings you by, Marinette?” He asked, plucking out a melody on the keys.

“I kind of need a favor, if you don’t mind,” she said with a wince.

“Ay, of course. You can ask your ole Uncle Jagged for favors any time,” he said with a grin. “Just tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Well, there’s this girl at my school, and she’s kind of a huge liar-”

“Ugh, I hate liars. I dated a liar once. Great kisser, but he always needed attention. So annoying.” He wrinkled his nose.

“Tell me about it, except this girl is a bit more than just annoying. I called her out for lying a few times, but she always spins things back on me, and now we’re sworn enemies, and she has it out for me,” Marinette said, and Jagged paused his playing.

“D’you want me to feed her to Fang?” Jagged offered, and Marinette considered it a moment.

“Nah, I wouldn’t want to make him sick.” She shook her head. “But me and another friend who knows about her have been plotting a bit of revenge against her since she got me expelled recently.”

“She got you expelled?” Jagged’s fingers slammed onto keys, filling the room with a discordant harmony.

“Yeah. My friend made her fix it in the end, but now we’re done with her lying and manipulating everyone, so we have a plan,” Marinette said before giving him the run down.

“Wow. This is all very high road yet secretly low road of you, Marinette. Rock on!” Jagged smirked, offering a fist for her to bump. “I will totally help you.”

“Thanks, Jagged!” Marinette hugged his chest.

“Anything for my favorite little lady,” he said, giving her a noogie. “But I’ve gotta say, I feel like we can do better than posters. This girl almost ruined your reputation.”

“What do you have in mind?” Marinette tilted her head to the side.

“Well…”

***

“She’s coming!” Nathaniel called, running through the park entrance, and everyone took their places.

“I can’t believe we pulled this off,” Adrien said to Marinette. “I can’t wait to see the look on her face.”

“She’s going to lose her mind.” Marinette winked.

Alya led Lila into the park blindfolded just as she had done for Marinette so many weeks prior only this time, Lila had no idea what to expect.

“Surprise!” Everyone shouted when she removed the blindfold, and Lila’s jaw dropped in confusion and disbelief.

“What’s all this?” She asked with a nervous laugh.

“It’s for your birthday,” Nathaniel said as if it were obvious.

“Yeah, you’re going to Achu tomorrow, so we wanted to celebrate today,” Alya explained, and Marinette saw the gears click.

“Oh, you guys! You didn’t have to,” she said modestly.

“You’re our bud, and you do so much for the world. We wanted to make sure you had a great bday,” Nino said, wrapping an arm around Alya’s shoulders.

“You guys are too sweet. Thank you.” Lila placed a hand over her heart.

“Thank Marinette and Adrien. They orchestrated all of this,” Alya said, and they waved to her with cheery grins which she met with a brief hint of skepticism that she morphed into a smile of her own.

“We made sure to celebrate all of your achievements,” Adrien said, gesturing to their spread. “We had the city bring in recycling bins to cut back on the garbage, and all of the party decorations are made from recycled materials.”

“We also asked a local shelter to bring by some adoptable animals for us to socialize,” Alya said, pointing to the pins of dogs across the sidewalk. “And finally, Marinette has a super epic surprise!”

Lila flicked her gaze to Marinette, her eyes narrowing under that elastic smile.

“It was no big deal, really,” Marinette said without averting her gaze. “He absolutely jumped at the opportunity when I told him it was for you.”

“Yo, Lila! Long time no see, huh?”

Lila blanched a little as Jagged approached with Penny and Fang in tow, and Marinette crossed her arms over her chest with a smirk.

“Thanks for coming, Jagged,” she said sweetly.

“Of course. Anything for my two favorite ladies.” Jagged pulled them both in for a hug. “I’d love to personally give all of your little friends autographs, and Marinette even agreed to help me sing your favorite song of mine. You know, the one I wrote for you, Lila.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s so generous of both of you, but you don’t have to do that,” Lila said, holding up cautioning hands.

“Why not?” Adrien asked, shoving his hands in his pockets as everyone gave her similarly perplexed looks.

“Uh, I have a headache, so loud noises probably aren’t the best,” she said, and Marinette and Adrien exchanged looks.

“Oh, is your tinnitus coming back? I have an ear plug, and I’ve started carrying around painkillers just in case you ever need it,” Marinette said, reaching into her purse, and Lila stared down at the items in her hand blankly.

“Wow, Marinette. You sure think of everything, don’t you?” Lila said through gritted teeth.

“She’s so detail-oriented. It’s what makes her such a good designer. That’s why she’s one of my favorite little rockers. Second only to you, of course, Lila,” Jagged said.

“I’m just doing my part. We can’t all save African villages, but we can be there for each other,” Marinette said, clasping her hands together with an innocent beam. “I just wanted to make sure my amazing friend had a great birthday.”

“So thoughtful of you,” Lila cooed, though Marinette could see the rage burning behind her smile.

“Alright then, who wants an autograph?” Jagged asked, holding up a pen, and their classmates all crowded around him.

Marinette and Adrien stood back on either side of Lila with impish grins.

“I don’t know what you two are planning, but you’d better tread carefully,” Lila said under her breath.

“What’s the matter, Lila?” Marinette asked.

“Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?” Adrien added, and Lila’s eyes narrowed.

“Drop the act. I’m not an idiot, and if either one of you even thinks about starting anything-”

“Gosh, I didn’t realize inviting Jagged was going to upset you so much. I thought you two were good friends,” Marinette said, pressing a hand to her lips.

“I’m serious, you two. Call off the song, or else,” Lila said, shifting her gaze between them. “I’m not dumb. I know you’re going to get Jagged to diss me in front of everyone.”

“You really think we’d do such a thing?” Marinette gasped, and Lila rolled her eyes.

“I haven’t bought your whole nice act from the moment it started, but if you threaten me, I can get you kicked out of Paris for good,” Lila growled.

“That seems like an unkind thing to do to a friend. Marinette worked really hard to put all of this together, Lila,” Adrien said with a warning tone, wrapping an arm around Marinette’s shoulders as her face fell.

“No, it’s okay. Lila doesn’t want us to sing, so we won’t. It’s her birthday after all,” Marinette said. “I’ll let everyone know.”

Lila and Adrien watched her join the crowd before Lila turned to him with a scowl.

“I don’t know what you two are up to-”

“We’re just trying to be your friends, Lila,” Adrien cut her off.

Lila glared up at him, jaw clenching, and his face hardened for one brief moment.

“But you might wanna tread carefully,” he said, giving her a pointed look before a smile broke over his lips again, and he patted her shoulder. “Happy Birthday, Lila.”

“Oh, your throat is sore?” Alya was saying when they joined the group.

“Yeah, just a tickle, but I’d hate to ruin the performance,” Marinette said with a frown. “But maybe it’s for the best. Lila has a headache still, and when I told her about it, she was totally cool with putting it off for another day.”

“It’s a shame. We must have worked too hard rehearsing it last night,” Jagged said. “Hey, here’s a thought. Why don’t you all come to my concert tomorrow? You can rest your chops tonight and perform with me tomorrow. All of your friends can come.”

“Wow, really?” Marinette perked up.

“Of course! I want to rock out with you for sure,” Jagged said, ruffling her hair.

“Oh, but Lila’s going to Achu tomorrow,” Marinette said, deflating again. “She won’t be able to make it.”

“Don’t worry, love. Lila gets to go to my concerts all the time. She won’t be too upset missing one chance to come backstage with everyone. Isn’t that right, Lila?” Jagged gave her a look, and Lila’s spine stiffened.

“Uh, yeah. I get to sing with you all the time. It’s no biggie,” she said, and Jagged patted Marinette’s shoulder.

“See? She’s cool with it, so whaddya say? Wanna rock out with your Uncle Jagged?” He asked.

“If it’s really alright then…okay!” Marinette perked up, and all of their classmates crowded around her excitedly.

Lila crossed her arms over her chest as everyone broke off to enjoy the rest of the party. Marinette may have won this battle, but Lila didn’t intend to lose the war. She wouldn’t be so easily fooled next time.

“Ya know.” She jumped a little as Jagged draped an arm over her shoulder. “Marinette told me everything, and if it were me, I would have totally asked me to call you out in front of all your little friends today, but she didn’t.”

Lila averted her gaze.

“Marinette is one amazing little chick, and she’s like family to me. If anyone ever hurts her, they’ll have me to answer to, and they’ll learn that I’m not so nice,” Jagged said. “Just a little something for you to keep in mind. Because she’s miraculous, simply the best, up to the test when things go wrong- hey, ya know, now I could make a song out of that.”

He patted her shoulder before pacing over to join Marinette and Adrien, and Lila closed her shaking hands into fists. If this was the game they wanted to play then fine, but they were about to learn what a formidable foe she could be.

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #jagged stone #my writing #kewk

[urimaginespimp]

Michael Gray: Better Man pt 12

The long overdue talk between Michael and Olivia finally happened, and the heavy tension that came along with it was out of the window.

She couldn't deny that it made her feel like a heavy weight was lifted off her. And he himself seemed to be happier and less tense.

But now what?

Though their talk ended with them being in genuinely good terms, there was something they didn't really get to discuss: where do we go from here?

It was as if both of them were now playing a dangerous but lighter game. The way they'd treat each other was in no means how a purely platonic pair would, nor was it crossing boundaries to a territory where intimate couples would be in.

He would kiss her often, when he's going out of the house or just getting settled in; to greet her in the morning or when he's about to sleep. But it was only either on the back of her hand, her cheek, or her temples.

She would get close to him, maybe lean in for support when she was doing something next to him, to rest for a while, or just because she felt like it; enjoy his cologne while he'd put his arm around her, or even lock arms together when walking down the streets. But she wouldn't give his jaw little pecks like she used to, nor would they intertwine their hands together.

--- Olivia was combing her wet hair in the mirror by the living room when she heard him say good morning. Looking at him as he appeared on the mirror's reflection, he was going down the stairs already dressed up for the day.

"Good morning, Mikey" She answered back with a grin.

"There wasn't enough supplies in the cupboards. I'm heading out for some groceries, and I'll see you in your office." Michael said, approaching her with a grin, then giving her a quick kiss on her cheek.

Every time he did so, she couldn't help the blood rushing to her cheeks. But it was also followed by that annoying little voice of reason at the back of her mind, asking her what in heavens were they doing.

"New York better be careful when you're on the loose in it's streets." She smiled slyly at him.

He laughed at what she said and poked her on the side, causing her to yelp and drop the comb. And before she could make him pay, he was already out the door yelling a quick goodbye to her.

Michael can't deny to himself that he wants to do more than just kiss, touch, and hold her on zones a really really close friend could. But he was doing a great job at containing himself. He wasn't going to cross the line unless she asks him to.

"Well if it'll all be up to her , we might as well just buy friendship bracelets." He muttered to himself, chuckling as he was walking down the streets of New York.

Olivia back at their apartment was just about to finish tidying up the place when there was a knock on the door.

Nobody else in the city except for Michael and Ginny knew where she lived.

That's odd. Ginny rarely leaves the diner when it's daytime, and Michael finally has a spare key. She thought to herself, approaching it slowly as the knocking continued.

Pressing her ear against it, she asked who is it.

"It's the young widow you left in Small Heath." A familiar feminine voice replied.

Ada.

"Linda?" She asked, acting clueless.

The audible gasp and scoffed that followed from the other side of the door was enough to make her break into laughter and finally open the door, to the unamused face of one of her oldest friends.

"Of course I knew it was you!" She laughed at her, opening her arms open for a hug.

Ada rolled her eyes as if in annoyance but nevertheless caved into the hug.

"I've missed you so much, Livy." Ada said into the hug.

Pulling away from each other, Ada's sweet face turned into an angry one, and she gave  Olivia a pinch on the forearm.

Yelping, Olivia asked what the hell was that for. Rubbing the small area that was already turning pink.

"Well we made a pact never to pull each other's hair, scratch faces, or go over just pinching, remember?" She replied, crossing her arms together and shrugged.

"Of course I remember! But why?" She asked incredulously.

"You made me miss you, and you never called." Ada answered shyly, looking anywhere else. "nor wrote." She added.

Olivia smiled at this. "Well, would you please come in so I could start making up for it?"

"You better." Ada threatened, trying to hold back from smiling.

"Does anybody else know my address now, then?" She asked, closing the door, and hanging Ada's coat on the rack.

"All it took was making Karl fake cry in-front of Thomas because he was really missing his auntie Livy." She answered, placing her one piece luggage down.

"Yet Karl's not here with you?" They were now sitting on the sofa, facing each other.

"Oh he might actually need a little refresher of who you are. So he's back home with aunt Poll." Ada replies sheepishly.

The two women shared a laugh.

"So... I see that devil cousin of mine isn't here right now. Tell me everything I need to know about you two here in New York." Ada asked excitedly. Oh it felt just like the times they spent sharing about each other's love life back in Birmingham.

By the time she was done, Ada had never had her mouth gaping like it was now.

"W-wait. What the hell are you two doing?"

"We're co-existing in this apartment?" She answered.

"Oh I'm happy you two made peace of the past. But I'm talking about now." She clarified. Olivia then understood what she meant.

"I don't know A, but is it weird to say that I'm enjoying it?" She smiled shyly at her friend.

"Of course you do. And I'm loving how it's like you're trying to see who'd give in first." Ada winked at her.

"What are you talking about?"

"Well it does sound like a type of foreplay. You-l"

"No it's not" Livy cut off her laughing friend.

"Oh it definitely is, Livy. And you need to win."

And just when she was about to respond, the front door opened again. This time, the person that was subject of their conversation walked in with a paper bag with him.

"Your office was still locked so I figured you're still here." Michael called out loudly, and stopped in his tracks when he realized who was with her.

"Michael." Ada acknowledged him, but any hint of the smile she was sharing to Olivia earlier was gone and replaced with coldness.

"It's good to see you, Ada." Michael nodded at her.

Olivia was confused. Michael and Ada were close. He was a great uncle to Karl, and she was always up to tag along the both of them when they asked her.

"I'll uh- arrange these in the kitchen." Michael said awkwardly to her, and left.

"What was that?" Olivia asked her quietly.

"Well, I have been mad at him after what he's done to ya." Ada whispered back in defense.

Olivia groaned. She hadn't anticipated how their own relationship problem could affect Michael's relationship with his family.

As if reading her mind, Ada called her attention.

"Oy. It was his fault. Not yours."

Olivia nodded.

"But since you two made up, I might just go and talk to him right now." Ada stood up, and motioned for her to stay seated so she could talk to him alone.

When Ada got to the kitchen, Michael was just about to throw the brown paper bag into the bin, when she cleared her throat.

This was enough to get his attention.

"I heard you two made up." She started, fidgeting with her fingers.

"Yeah. Livy's a saint to even listen to me." This has been the longest exchange of words they've had for the last two years.

"That's good to hear, Michael." She nodded.

"I'm sorry for hurting your best friend and driving her away from our family, Ada. I completely understand why you've been hating me."

"Well I don't hate you anymore." She gave him a small smile.

"Thank you." He broke into a smile, almost tearing up at the fact that she was the first of the Shelby siblings to actually forgive him for what he'd done to Olivia.

Sure, Arthur and John still spoke and joked around him, even Finn when they got past the time they almost got into a fight. But it never felt the same. He knew deep down they were also disappointed with him. Thomas was as usual all business talk.

"I said I don't hate you anymore. But that doesn't mean you're a hundred percent forgiven." She smiled at him.

"What do I have to do then?"

"I'll let you both enjoy this weird foreplay you both got going right now, but I want you to be the one to actually ask what she wants from this." She explained. "It's for the both of you. You can't just be stuck in this weird phase forever."

Michael nodded in understanding. "I'll talk to her about it when you go back." He promised.

"Good. In two days then." Ada nodded back in approval. "Now give me a stupid hug."

Michael chuckled and approached his cousin, engulfing her in a bear hug.

When the cousins came back from the kitchen, Olivia was still seated and now immersed in a book.

"Livy I wanna go sightseeing by myself. I'll be back by the time you're back from the office." Ada told Olivia while grabbing her coat from the rack.

"Oh that reminds me. How long are ya planning to stay?"

"I'll be out of your hair in two days, luv." She answered, putting her coat on and fixing her hair. "So you owe me two days worth of catching up."

"I'd be glad to, A."

"Oh except for Night times."

"What?" Michael asked what she meant.

"Remember when before he passed away, I promised Freddie that I won't be sharing a bedroom or let alone a bed at night with anyone else but Karl?"

Both Olivia and Michael nodded but was confused. What the hell was she talking about?

"Well it was a romantic promise yet I didn't realize it lacked detail such as exempting family and female friends, and Freddy isn't really here to discuss it with." She opened the door.

"It's still up for a year, so you two better pick which room to share now BYE!" She hastily answered with a wink, already leaving them both.

#Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #michael gray #MichaelGray #Michael Gray imagine #michael gray x reader #michael grey #polly gray #polly grey #thomas shelby #Arthur Shelby #John Shelby #finn shelby #finn cole #finn cole imagine

[dailydaydreamings]

The Best in the Worst Way, Part 4

Please enjoy, I really liked writing this one, K

The Reader has been having a love affair with two Avengers and gets caught in a sticky situation. She’s suddenly faced with life decisions she’s not prepared for, including who to love, what she wants, and is this all worth it?

Warning: mention of sex (pretty descriptive) and other implications ahead.

You, somewhat reluctantly, returned to work the following week.

It had ended up being a peaceful week, where you and Bucky made several big decisions regarding the babies and learned a lot about what to expect in the coming weeks.

But, radio silence from Steve.

Bucky went to the compound a couple of times to train, only to not be able to find him. When the three of you (rarely) slept on the compound, you slept in Steve’s room. Bucky has found himself suddenly locked out.

Not even a text or a call, not that he was overly good at either of those things. You tried, in vain, not to take it personally.

You stood in front of your mirror, feeling overly self conscious in your favourite, bright red, high waisted pants.

“I swear to god I’m showing,” you said, cradling your middle, even though there was no way at 9 weeks.

“I promise you’re not,” Bucky came up behind you to kiss your shoulder. “You still look phenomenal in those pants, definitely a favourite.” He squeezed your ass as he kissed your shoulder.

You bit your lip, sex had come up once in the week, and it hadn’t gone over well.

You were laying in bed, almost asleep, when a full on, teenage like make out session broke out. You weren’t sure who started it.

But he was kissing you like he needed it to breathe and you were just as desperate.

Clothes came off quickly, you felt your core tighten as his skin met his. His warmth enveloping yours, his strong body suddenly all around you.

One strong hand came up to squeeze your breast, though overly sensitive you moaned.

It was quickly progressive, both of you equally insistent and needy to feel the other one.

His fingers in your hair, your hand on his shaft squeezing him tight as he moaned in your ear.

Him fingering you until you came around him, but still desperate for something deeper.

Then he was inside you. Your walls clenched and you moaned desperately.

This was everything, you thought at first.

After a couple strokes, it suddenly didn’t seem like enough. Steve wasn’t beside you, murmuring dirty things in your ear as you jerked him off. Or pegging Bucky from behind.

This was not right.

Suddenly you pushed Bucky off and you were sobbing. The first time you cried, really cried about Steve and you were inconsolable all night.

“Is it really just going to be the two of us from here on out?” You asked. Would you have to relearn sex with just him? Cooking Friday night dinners? Morning coffee runs?

He wrapped both arms around your waist, looking at you through the mirror, “I promise we’re going to get him on board, baby. I’ll find him today.”

You lean back against him, “Maybe it should be me.”

He shook his head, “Give me one more try, and he’s all yours.”

You sigh and nod, he was right. Despite how well you thought you knew them both, they had known each other for longer. He probably knew better.

————

An hour later, you drove into work with Bucky in the passenger seat. You had never done this before, the couple thing, and you were a nervous wreck.

But what did it matter if you show up with Bucky anyways? You’re pregnant, everyone is going to know soon enough. Besides, who cares?

But Steve will care. He’ll know and see and feel and he won’t even talk to you.

What if this only makes things worse? What if—

“Y/n,” Bucky said gently, “you’re spiralling.”

You grip the wheel a little tighter as you eye the entrance from your parking spot.

“Let’s do this,” you decide, opening your door and grabbing your bag from the back.

The first person you saw was Clint. He had his head down, phone in hand, a sucker sticking out of his mouth.

“Oh heyyy,” he said, looking up at you. “You feeling better, kid?”

“Much, thank you,” you said.

“Cool, you probably just needed a vacation,” he side-eyed Bucky. “Where are you coming from?”

Bucky’s stance widened, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “Just on my way in to train.”

“Hm, ‘bout time, lovebirds,” Clint said, winking at you before breezing past the two of you.

It took you a moment to realize the implication before you turned around and yelled after him, “Seriously?!”

Bucky just touched your elbow. “Come on,” he said, laughing slightly.

“How does he know?” You demanded. Seriously, not even in the building yet and your relationship was out.

————

“No, I’m sorry General, I don’t know where he is,” you said, checking your manicure. “You see, he’s Asgardian and we can’t just phone him up.”

You waved as you spotted Tony coming into your office.

He smirked, “General Osgood again?”

You nodded, “Sir, I’m going to put you on hold for just one moment. Thank you.” You pressed the hold button despite his protests.

Rolling your eyes, you kicked your feet onto your desk, “He calls me three times a week and talks for an hour.”

Tony crossed his arms, “Isn’t Thor in Norway?”

You shrugged, “Yeah, but Osgood doesn’t know that. Plus, Thor texted me that he doesn’t want to talk to him, so...”

Tony raised an eyebrow, “You text Thor?”

“You don’t?”

Tony pursed his lips before taking a seat across from you, “On to more important things, I got you a baby gift.”

You bite your tongue slightly, “I’m 9 weeks in, we’re not even in the safe zone yet.”

Tony brushes that off, “Well, I got you an OBGYN so this is perfect timing actually.”

You sigh, taking your feet off the desk and bracing your arms on your desk, “I thought we talked about boundaries.”

“We did,” he nodded, “but you also need to accept help when it’s being offered to you.”

You looked away, wanting nothing more than to be literally anywhere else.

“Let me give you the best care in the world, and those kids can call me Uncle Tony and we’ll call it even, okay kid? You haven’t been doing the greatest, there’s two of them, you need to think about yourself now before those kids pop out.”

You sigh, knowing he is unfortunately right.

“Thank you, Tony.”

He smirked, “My pleasure.”

He stood to leave and then said, “Two more things. One, transfer Osgood to my line, I’m bored.”

You folded your hands in your lap, “Of course.”

“And two,” he placed his hands on his hips, “Barnes, seriously?”

You bite your lip, knowing full well about their testy history. “It just happened?”

Tony rolled his eyes, “Who else are you sleeping with if Barnes isn’t enough?”

You roll your eyes, leave it to Tony to make it dirty. “I’m transferring Osgood to you know, sir,” you say, effectively ending the conversation.

————

“Where’s Steve?” Bucky popped his head into the gym’s changing room.

Sam jumped, “He does not want to talk to you.”

“Whatever, where is he?” He demanded, coming into the room.

“What exactly did you do?” Sam retorted. “He’s been in a pissy mood all week.”

Bucky clenched his jaw. “I didn’t do anything. He’s the one being a dick.”

How dare he? Bucky wondered. After seeing you so devastated in the past week, barely keeping it together in the last week. After all the damage Steve had done to you, how could he insinuate it was Bucky’s fault.

“I’ll just go talk to Natasha.”

“He’s leaving for a mission in ten minutes,” Sam sighed. “If you go find her you won’t catch him in time. He’ll be on the landing pad. For the love of god, get him in a better mood. Kiss and make up would ya?”

Bucky smirked slightly, Sam had no idea how accurate that statement was.

Thanking him, he ran towards the landing pad on the roof. Steve stood there, his back to Bucky. Natasha was standing beside him.

“Steve!” He shouted.

They both turned, Natasha placed her hand on his arm. Steve shook her off and came towards him, “Not here, Buck, not now.”

Bucky looked at Natasha, how just raised an eyebrow before backing away slowly. She’d be able to hear wherever she was on the roof, but Bucky didn’t care.

“Yes now,” he growled. “You’re killing her. You walked away like she was nothing. That we were nothing.”

Steve ground his teeth, “I can’t do this, Bucky.”

“So it’s worth torturing her over it?” He snapped. “Be an adult, let’s sit down and have a conversation about this.”

Steve threw his hands in the air, “You think I don’t want to? That it’s not killing me to not be home with you two? That I’m not going to miss this? Buck, when I say I can’t do this, I mean it.”

“No,” Bucky growled, pushing his chest. “Bullshit. You are going to take one look at that those kids and regret not being there from the very beginning. I know you, I know you will love them.”

Steve looked at him with so much anger and hurt, and then in a low voice said, “That’s why I don’t ever want to see them. We’re done Buck, it’s over.”

Bucky lunged at him.

————

You checked your phone, Bucky was supposed to come by twenty minutes ago to go home with you and he hadn’t even texted.

Something was up.

You wondered if he’d found Steve.

“Friday,” you called, “do you know where Sergeant Barnes is?”

“Sergeant Barnes is on the roof,” the female voice responded.

You clicked a pen, frowning anxiously. What was he doing up there?

“Is he with anyone?” You asked.

“Captain Rogers and Agent Romanoff are also on the roof.”

You drummed your fingers, he wouldn’t bring this up in front of Natasha, would he?

“How long has he been up there?”

“40 minutes.”

You sucked your cheeks in. Okay, maybe this was a good thing. They were probably just talking it out. Right?

A knock came at your door, bring you back to reality, and you could see Peter standing on the other side of the glass, you waved him in.

“Hey,” you greeted, trying to come back to work mode, despite being on the brink of going home. Besides, you liked the kid. “How was school?”

He shrugged, “Schools school, I guess. How are you?”

You shrugged, up until about an hour ago, you felt fine. Nausea and dizziness had started to set in.

“What’s up?” You asked. Peter didn’t come to see you very often. In fact, you were fairly certain he had never asked you for anything.

“I don’t know,” he plopped down in one of your chairs. “College applications are due soon.”

You smiled, remembering the feeling, “Ok...that’s exciting! Are you excited?”

He shrugged, “Yeah, I guess. I want more school-wise, but compared to this—” he waved his hands vaguely — “it seems...” he trailed off.

“Normal?” You offered. “Pointless? Boring?”

He laughed, setting his hands on his chest, “Yeah, all of the above, I guess. All my friends are so excited and stressed, and they’re touring all these far away, cool places. And I’m...”

You smiled, “You don’t want to go do you?”

He looked at you, with guilt written all over his face.

“I went as far away as I possibly could,” you told him. “I went home twice a school year, and for the summers. I hated not being home, but I didn’t regret it for a second. Because I loved what I was doing. Stay or go, it’s your call, but we’ll all support you here. Just as long and you’re doing. What you want to do.”

He looked up at you and smiled brightly, “Tony just told me to go to MIT.”

You laughed, “Of course he did. Come talk to me kid, first of all, I’m way younger than he is and fresher out of school. And, I’m not biased.”

“Thank you,” he grinned.

“Buuut,” you drew out, “it’s only a short plane ride away with Tony’s help,” you reminded him. “You could be home every weekend, but who knows, maybe you won’t want to come back.”

He laughed. And you smiled back, checking your phone slightly while he was distracted.

Still nothing.

“Is everything okay,” he asked.

You frown, “Barnes was supposed to meet me half an hour ago and I haven’t heard from him. I’m getting worried. I really think I should go look for him.”

“I’ll help,” Peter said, almost excitedly.

You smirk, he really was just a golden retriever in human skin.

You stood but immediately braced your hands on your desk.

“Y/n?” He asked.

You swallowed hard, fighting the dizziness off. “Come on,” you murmured to yourself. “Not now, come on. You’re ok.”

“Y/n?” He stepped closer.

But you were barely aware because your head was spinning uncontrollably.

You lifted your head slightly, “Pete, do me a favour and call Bruce for me, please.” You swallowed and let out a shaky breath, “When he’s here, go find Bucky, please.”

“Y/n?” He asked again, more urgently.

You finally made eye contact and said, “They’ll know what to do.”

Before everything turned black.

Tags

@fading-mentality-bouquet @a--1--1--3 @broco8

#bucky barnes x reader #steve x bucky x reader #pregnant #original character #bucky x pregnant!reader #steve x pregnant!reader #steve x reader #bucky x reader