#mob had failed to change as he had promised himself!

[neonovember]

Just like Business

Steve rogers mafia!au

summary: with the fate of the underworld on your shoulders, your attempt to keep a low profile fails and instead, you make a deal with the king of Brooklyn himself.

warnings: violence, regular smugular mob talk, mentions of domestic violence

a/n: sorry it took so long for chapter 3 to come out, school has been up my ass lately and I lost half my draft. (I’ve also changed Diore’s name to Clementine because I'm playing twd)

The taste of stale wood catches on your tongue as you nervously chew on the end of your pencil, the Diner is slow today, and you've found yourself in the corner of the kitchen, tenuous forms spread out in front of you. The slowed trickle of patrons coming through the familiar jingle of the doors gave you enough time to fill those papers out before the seats do.

Knees to your chest, you ponder over what to write on the clearly dotted line named “Next Of Kin”. You watch as a man dribbles coffee down his white shirt, failing to catch the drops with a damp napkin as your mind remains a blank deserted canvas. Truth be told you didn’t have anyone you could call in an emergency, it was a bitter pill to swallow, even more so than the pencil between your teeth.

Clem was spending her allotted days off with her niece, mentioning how her erratic sister had dropped her off last night. You understood complicated families more than anything, it was what you lived and breathed for the better part of your adult life, but it meant the hours at work would drag on even further. Clementine was able to keep your mind off of everything, your escape, your husband, that man, that goddamn number. Your entire life was a scattered map of holes and ink spills, and it seems to follow you even on this side of Brooklyn, where eyes were always trained on your own shoes and you learned to keep to yourself.

Any other day you would have called in sick, without Clementine to help push the metaphorical hand to tick past your 9-hour shift. But you couldn’t bare the thought of remaining in that 3-foot room isolated and just waiting to be attacked. Your mental state was as fragile as ever, and you felt even the slightest scare would send you spiralling.

The target on your back grew bigger and bigger each day that went by with the threat of that man’s promise looming over your head. The crumpled napkin remained on your bedside table since that night, and you made no move to initiate the call. His patience was wearing thin, this you knew, but you didn’t have the guts, even now, to face the reality of what you had done.

Leaving the line blank you quickly fill the rest of the form, trying to tear your mind from thinking too hard at the prospect of having no one to rely on. All that was on your mind at the moment was the prospect of a dry winter, with a heater that worked and walls that weren't covered in mould. You hope the council would take your concerns seriously now that you had gained some stability, even as small as it was.

The jingle of the doors finally dragged you from your crouched position, collecting your papers you quickly shoved them under the counter before brushing away any creases on your apron.

The figure had seated themselves towards the end of the diner booths, away from any clear windows where they could be easily seen. Grabbing a menu you made your way past the many vacant booths before finally reaching their table.

It was a man, fairly built, with dark black hair moused from the light shower outside, he wore a deep maroon coat eerily similar to the man from earlier that week. He had deep grey eyes which would have been overshadowed by the curls of his hair falling in front of his eyes if they weren't so intense. His features were distinctly masculine, outlined by a sharp jaw that was littered with stubble, and his arms were outstretched across the booth's couches.

Transfixed by his features you had almost forgotten the menu between your fingers which was scarily close to slipping, he cleared his throat expectantly and you quickly placed the menu on the table.

“You got a staring problem or somthin?” The deep Brooklyn accent drew out as he enanuctaited his words, a smirk breaking through his stoic features but not quite reaching his eyes.

You swallowed thickly, looking down and attempting to avoid his grey orbs which seemed to remain at your face, he had a look like he was dissecting you, cutting you apart and looking into your soul.

“No-, No of course not, sorry. Uh, what would you like?” You choked out quickly, and you gripped your apron as he took notice of your apprehension. he could smell your fear, you could feel it.

He chuckles audibly, the sound sort of muffled behind it’s falsity. A relaxed expresiones seemed to ease the calculating look on his face just moments ago, as if he’s come to a conclusion.

“Your ma never taught you some manners?” He continues, this time however, his eyes are trained on the menu items, seeming to peruse through them thoroughly.

Your mother.

The thought of her and any expectant of motherly duties made you audibly laugh, causing the man to look up, eyebrows quirking at the chuckle leaving your mouth.

You cough quickly, attempting to hide your sudden outburst. It was just, there were a lot of words you could call that person, but a mother? That certainly wasn’t one of them.

You’d soon see hell freeze over before she’s ever act like a mother towards you, whilst your friends and classmates were taught how to braid their hair, or tie their shoes, or ride a bike, your mother, she, was out in the alleyways and prisms of her addiction.

You’d need a pick axe to get through the stone face she morphed into each time she walked through your childhood home. She wasn’t absent, always somewhere, she was just expression less. Like you’d drawn her with a broke crayon and coloured her outside the lines.

Shaking yourself from your past, the man’s eyes are fixed on you, confusion swirling through those grey orbs, before his lips lifted in a small smile.

Why did he look almost apologetic? You already had one strange man after you, did this god want to grant you with another?

“Coffee, black”. Said the man, folding the menu closed that was opened on desserts of the day.

You nodded, taking the menu from his grasp, before turning back towards the kitchen, the squeak of your trainers against the linemen floor.

Funny, he looked through the entire menu only to order a plain coffee, black at that. You’d hardly seen that order in a while, the iced latte-frappe-mocha obsession had taken over even the tiny diners like this one.

Another thing that’s seemed to change this week.

Making you way back to the kitchen, you quickly begin making his coffee. You weren’t particularly specialised at the art of making coffees, however his order seemed fairly straightforward.

Plus without Clem on today the diner was even more short staffed, and completing multiple jobs was expected.

Mind miles away, you almost spill the coffee grounds as you tamp them into the portafilter, attempting to replicate the steps you’ve seen Clementine do a thousand times.

Setting the espresso machine to brew, your able to shift your eyes towards the man in the corner, who’s now pulled out a silver phone and seemed to be in a heated conversation.

You knew that it was wrong to eavesdrop but god your brain would explode if you kept at this repeative mundanity of watching cars splash water violently against the diners windows.

You catch a couple words being exchanged, as the man roughly pushes his strands back into the low bun sitting low on his head.

“Steve, cmon, ya sure it’s her?,

“She don’t look like it that’s for sure”

“Robinson waiting on a package so I can’t stay long-, okay yeah, yeah I hear you, ya big head, don’t need to yell damn.” Mumbled the man exasperated.

He muffled his words into the cellphone as if he could tell you were eavesdropping and you quickly look away when you see him shift in his seat.

The espresso beeped as you pull the shot from under the machine, pouring it into a mug as you add 2 heaped teaspoons of sugar.

Stirring slowly you chance a glance from under hooded eyes, and expecting his broad shoulder and back towards you, instead his turned his shoulder, eyes staring directly toward you.

Taken back you shift your eyes back to the mug, fingers gripping the teaspoon tight as a attempt to pretend that he hasn’t unnerved

It seems to fail as the next time you look up his grinning, phone still pressed to his ear as he nods along with whatever they’re saying.

You question whether to bring it to him, the coffee, and just ask one of your other co workers, but you’ve already gone this far. Waitressing practically came with the packaged deal of sleazy men who couldn’t take a hint, it was depressing but you’ve gotten used to people disregarding your boundaries. You wouldn’t let some creepy yet incredibly attractive man scare you away from doing your job.

Appearing at the booth in almost an instant you place the ceramic mug infront of him. Murmuring his coffee, and not letting a second past before you attempt to escape, shoes squeaking at your hurry.

“Excuse me, Mrs” The man’s Brooklyn draw calls you however, the politeness falling from his red lips before he can help it. You freeze under the formality, fingernails digging into your palms.

Mrs? Mrs. You almost forgot that you were still a married women, it was something you kept hidden for a reason, the encrusted ring was hopefully rotting at the bottom of the hudsen.

And that was it, here, in Brooklyn, no one, no one knew you were with someone much less married, and yet this random man, who wasn’t quite a stranger knew. Hell he called you Mrs loud enough for the entire diner to hear.

To say you were shitting yourself was an understatement.

“Would you prefer ma’am, I hardly know these days” Chuckled the man unfazed by your trepidation, this was a sick game to him.

“How about you sit down and have a chat with me? Just 5 minutes of your time, all I’m asking” The man sing songs, acting as if he were pleading with you, however you noticed the demand laced under his tone. You understood a demand when you heard it.

Your back is still towards him, and your eyes shift to the diner door to the right, and, just as quickly the man reminds you of his loyalty.

“Look doll, I don’t wanna have to go to more extreme measures to find you again, so just sit down here with me before we both do something we regret” The man really pleads this time, he seems exhausted, like he really did look under every hole in New York.

You are are still fixated on the diner door, the paint chipping from its sides, and a dirty brown appearing at the foot of it from the rain coming through the sewers and onto the footpaths. You gulp down the crawling bile rising from your stomach before slowly turning around, each step causing a small breathe to escape from your chest.

You slide into the booth just as the man reaches for his cup, sipping it slowly as he eyes to intensely.

“Atta girl, now was that so hard?” He finally replies, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

Your hands, you don’t know what to do with them, they’ve begun to dig painfully into your palm and you quickly shove them under the table when they begin to shake.

The man watches them carefully, his brows furrowing in confusion as if he didn’t expect you to be so goddamn meek and weak.

God. You’re so fucking weak it’s pitiful

“Look, I’m not going to keep you long, alright? I personally don’t like dragging out a girl like this but orders are orders ya know?” The man rambles, not waiting for you to answer him before he continues.

His eyes shift back and forth, down the diner aisles and across the vacant seats, he leans in, and from a distance it looks as if you two are both lovers on a night out. Huddled against each other from the harsh downpour outside and warmed the the love in the air and the longing in your eyes. The soft glow of the ceiling above casting a eerie romantic feel similar to days before.

“He knows your avoiding him, and in all honesty, this is the longest his gone before going out himself and getting what he wants” The man replies, dark greys watching your slumped posture against the booth coaches.

You’d hoped he’d just given up, the hours going by as you waited for your doors to come slamming down but it never did. It was stupid, you knew this, you didn’t get lucky in this world, but a small part of you had hoped so hard that he just saw you for what you always were; ordinary. Mundane and colloquial, the blurry face in a crowd, the person you always forgot and the name you never quite remembered.

You chest cave in at the truth of the reality you were forced into, you didn’t even care at this point, as your exhausted body rested against the booth, fingers rubbing your tired eyelids.

“What does he even want with me? I don’t know who you are, but you look like your smart enough to know how utterly useless I would be to whatever plan hes drawn up”. You reply

“I don’t even know anything about..about..that world!” you gulp as he looks towards you expectantly. You don’t even know what to call it, the underworld? The mafia? Criminal organisations? Which one would least likely get you killed?

“He kept me out of pretty much all of it, okay? He never let me enter even parts of the house to keep me ignorant and obedient. Couldn’t let the wife know about the 17 year old boy I tossed into the sewers right? Isn’t that what you men do?” You reply heated, spitting the accusation in disgust.

Your words don’t faze the man, and it’s then down you consider what he must’ve already heard and seen a hundred times, this was normal to them, this was life to them, this was making a black coffee to them.

“His not gonna hurt you, if that’s what your scared o-“ The man says, and you cut him off quickly

“Oh trust me, getting hurt is the least of my worries, I’ve gotten a lot of practice” You laugh morbidly, as he looks at you strangely, his eyes peek at the healing bruises on your arm and you tough your sweater down self consciously.

“I don’t doubt it, Matthews is ruthless, and I’ve got to hand it to you, your a real fucking smart one for being able to escape him of all people. But let’s me realistic here, you and i both know what this world is like, sure you’ve made it out, but how long do you really thing you’ll be able to be ahead, to keep up with this on the run shit?” The man reasons, adding more sugar packets to his coffee, before stirring it slowly.

You remain silent as you take in his reasoning, he’s not wrong, soon or later you’d burn out and do something stupid and get caught. You were born in the suburbs for fucks sake, you weren’t some Russian spy.

“All I’m saying is that Matthews is pretty fucking powerful, the type of power where he can get your friends and boss here to offer you up to him on a silver plate. There’s no loyalty when you’re living pay check my pay check, or when you’ve got to put food on the table. The only loyalty then is one written in blood, or bank checks” The man says, winking at the last part.

“We can help, keep him off your scent for a while, until you can get out of here at least” the man says gesturing around the diner and the City itself.

That was the ultimate plan though wasn’t it? To get out of America? Maybe move to a tropical climate where your skin met the warm sun instead of bloody fists. Something was keeping you here, and you spent years trying to understand what.

“By protection you mean surveillance that goes over every single human boundary ever created” You grumbled hands now crossed against your chest.

The man nods honestly,

“More or less, at least then you’ll get some sleep” The man replies, pointing out the bags hanging under your eyes.

“Well how am I supposed to do that when I’ve got him watching me every single minute of the day” You snap, before your eyes widen in shock. You didn’t meant to get angry, least of all at the man who probably has a pistol between in his waistband.

You wait for the man to scream, to feel his rough fingers around your throat, or the bruising force of his fists. It never comes, instead he laughs, fucking laughs.

It’s authentic, the way the baritone sounds leaves his chest ceremoniously, a hand gripping his chest and his curls fall in front of his face at his movements.

It’s beautiful and from the moment it leaves his mouth you love it. But he laughs, the most innocent thing in the entire world and you flinch. You fucking flinch.

You already know he notices it as he stops his chuckles, hands coming to press against his brows, and running down his scalp to brush his strands back.

“He’s coming, later on, to pick you up and take you back to your apartment, don’t fight me on it or else it’s my ass on the line” The man finalises, before reaching out with an expectant hand.

“Pleasure doing business with you..?” He says expectantly

You mumble your name tiredly and you grip his hand, shaking it.

“Bucky” The man’s nods, before getting up from the booth.

“Your got to be something to have Steve acting like this, and for your sake, youd better hope it’s fucking spectacular” The man says, before shelving over a couple dollar bills.

“Keep the change” The man calls before exiting through the diner doors, engulfed by the darkness cloud of fog and rain, the cool city air escaping into the warm diner behind him.

You look down at the coffee mug sitting like warm across from you, still filled to the brim and left un drunken, the only indication of his presence.

You sigh as you get up from your seated the position, the booth warm from your time spent talking. You look towards the clock, signalling you’ve spent well over 30 minutes with the man, and you turn to expect your manager tumbling down the isles to find you and demand answers to your absence.

But instead, her head is down, the deep auburn braids peeking from under the counter. Weird, she’s never not taken up the chance to berate your very presence, and instead she’a jotting down inventory records.

You don’t want to believe it but you know it’s connected to the man that was just here moments ago, or more specifically the man from earlier this week.

Collecting the bills left on the table, you place them into the cash register, before going to clear away his plates. This was going to be a long night.

You try not to notice the headlights shining through the blinds of the diner windows, or even the roar of an engine pulling up onto the front of the restaurant as you jot down the last of the young man’s order.

You were just about to close when a group of drunken but good natured college boys walked, or more like stumbled in.

You weren’t mad in any way, at least it gave your mind something to occupy itself with instead of conversation between you and Bucky from earlier.

Yelling the orders at Daniel, his brown hair bobbing to his stereo, your met with his thumbs up popping out of the bustling kitchen. You giggle to yourself at his antics, if you had to rely on one thing of normalcy in your life it was Daniel.

The familiar jingle of the diner door has you bristling, the note of between your hands crinkle as your hands grip them anxiously. You don’t know why your scared, it isn’t like you hadn’t been warned.

The man loud steps seem to purposeful against the floor of the crumbling diner, he’s incredibly out of place against the old fashioned terriselss and red and white booths. Even the drunken crows notices him, eyes surveying his expensive coat and shiny boots, before quickly looking away as the catch glimpses of his rings and blond tussles.

You pretend to occupy yourself with refilling straw and napkin dispensers, wiping down the tables that were already shining and keeping your head and most importantly your eyes, away from the tall brooding man.

You catch the front of his dress shoes pointed towards your crouched frame over the diner table. He clears his throat loudly when he notices you make no move to acknowledge his present.

“You’re a tough girl to catch aren’t you?” Is the first thing the man says in that deep gruff voice of his. His words seem sweetened like he’s said them behind a smile.

“No, not at all, I’m just..busy” You reply, leaning over further to wipe the cloth against the sides of the booth.

Steve hums, hands stuffed into his suit pants as he watches you carefully

“You sure? From where I’m at it seems like you’re..avoiding me” Steve says

“Well it’s kind of hard to get the courage to phone up a likley criminal mastermind that probably has connections to my husband and who would undoubtedly deliver me to him if given the right number.” You reply hastily.

Steve moves quickly to catch your hands, stopping your movements as he turns you towards his towering figure looming over you.

“I wouldn’t do that, I wouldn’t ever hurt you, you have to trust me” Steve says, a strange look you can’t place takes over his features, the frost behind his blues melt a little and his jaw relaxes before it leaves just as quickly. A hardened expression resting on his face again, and Steve drops your hands, where they rest folded at your stomach.

“How can I?, I’m sorry but I don’t even know you, and if I let another man take me, I’ll, I won’t ever forgive myself” You bristle.

Steve looks far off, blue orbs darkening at your candor as he watches the lights of cars flash against the frosted windows.

“Just let me help you, I’m sure Bucky told you why I’m here, and I’ve gone to lengths I can’t even mention to even speak to you” Steve says

“Why? I’m not special, I just don’t understand why someone like you would do with the likes of me” You reply exasperated, flinching as a David calls the order out.

“I have my reasons, reasons I can’t say right now but can only be explained if you let me take you home” Steve murmurs, you noticed a concerned look take over his features for a second, before the seriousness of this “deal” remains.

“And only if I accept your help” You say, you knew this world through and through, everything had a “but” and a catch. This wouldn’t be any different, would it?

Steve nods honestly, and you turn to throw the dirty wash cloth into the basin behind the counter.

“ I ain’t got long doll, let’s get going” Steve replies impatiently, you understood from your conversation with Bucky earlier that Steve was a man that always got what he wanted. There was little room for negotiation with the blond but you would be damned to make Daniel walk the plate he’d just slaved over to the crowd of huddled 21 year olds.

“Let me finish this order will you? If I’m getting into an unmarked vehicle to lead to my possible death, atleast let me get some good tips” You reply, and for the first time, Steve looks anywhere but you, noticing the huddle of hungry and slightly sober boys.

“Okay, okay” Steve replies acting defeated, as he sits on a barstool across from the counter. Eyes watching your mundane movements of service and food handling, and yet no saying a single word.

You juggle multiple plates, brushing off Steve’s attempts to help and successfully deliver them to the patrons, who gleefully thank you loudly. Slurring praises of Jesus, and Hallelujah, as they shovel waffles and fried chicken into their mouths.

Drunk college boys, either your best or worst nightmare.

Steve doesn’t let you clear their plates as he stands expectantly, you catch his eyes blaring into your manager from the corner of your peripheral. His face hardens into something like stone, and it’s as if his exchanged something without saying a word.

Your manager nods, walking back into the office, your bag is waiting for you on the counter and you reach for it before Steve is grabbing it instead. A hand coming up to silence your protests.

You follow his foot steps without a word, eyes looking back at your manager who’s staring right at you, a grim look on a face that screams pity. Like watching a lamb being carried to the slaughter, or more like willingly walking in.

You don’t know what Steve has told her, or not told her, but it seems he has more power than you first realised, your boss never let you off early, sure she’s let you take a day off but leaving early? Never. You’d had to be bent of and heaving before she’s pay you for half the shift.

It scares you, you don’t quite know what your walking into following this man, the the truth of its danger follows you like a shadow, every step pressed into the floor by blood and crime is a step you fall into.

You’re staining yourself with whatever it is he is knee deep in, even if you don’t want to believe it.

Steve opens the diner doors gently, letting you pass his chest, as he flips the open side the opposite side. A sleek black car comes into view on the sidewalk, it’s branded with a logo you don’t recognise but you understand it’s expensive, the kind of car where they give you shampgane when you buy it.

You don’t know why but you don’t see Steve as a man who would willingly drink champagne, the image of him holding a flute has you fighting back giggles, no, he was most defiantly the time to like bourbon or some other old fashioned liquor.

Opening the passenger door, you take a moment to look back at the diner, the low warm lights giving it a sense of home that you never found at your apartment. The crowd of boys are now singing unabashedly, stale and oily fries left on messy plates.

You hated it but it was the best thing that ever happened to you..since, well, since forever. It was gruelling and tough and not half the amount of work it took but it was yours wasn’t it? It was something you earned and kept only for you, that pay check was written in your name, not your mothers, not your husbands, yours.

Atleast you got a taste of what freedom would be like, a small glimmer of what you could’ve been if happened, hadn’t.

The inside of Steve’s car is even more opulent than its exterior, blue lighting outlining the inside of the car, and tinted windows hiding you from view.

“As much as you think you useless and naive to the word, the truth is, you're the closest thing to Richedson in his life, not his right-hand man, not his best friend, not me, you. Hell, practically half the underworld didn't even know he was married for the better part of 2 years”. Steve murmurs, one hand on the steering wheel whilst the other lay rested on his thigh.

“He was embarrassed by me” You shrugged, it was the truth, even Steve knew it.

“No, I don't think so, I think he was scared that you would get hurt” Steve replies, eyes remaining on the gravel road as he followed the route to your apartment like the back of his head. It should scare you, but it doesn't, and that, that scares you.

“He couldn't care less of me, much less try and protect me from the world he married me into. Besides, whatever cruelty he tried to shield me from, he already exposed me to it himself” You reply hastily, turning your body so that you faced the door, eyes boring into the concrete sky scrapes flashing mirages against the tinted windows.

As if sensing your apprehension, Steves recognises to drop it and instead tries to tell you the reasons from earlier.

“The throne your husband sits on grants him a lot of power, enough to have half of New York at their knees. And with him as unstable as he is, it would lead to more people getting hurt, and most importantly this realm, this life, ripped open for the world to see” Steve says

“He's always been unstable, you of all people should know that” You reply, scoffing. The cracks in your husband's mind enable him to get to where he was today, it enabled him to look past the shackles of morality that kept so many from reaching their full potential as he would say.

“Not like this, no not the way he's behaving now, there's traditions and sacrifices you have to make to survive in this life, that I understand, but the cracks that have always been in him are starting to show, they're starting to crumble the things me and so man other people have built. He's going off the rails, and this time I don't think even you can reel him in” Steve reasons, turning into your apartment car pack with the palm of his hand in one swift turn.

You bristle as that, your husband has always been off, you'd noticed it the first time and you'd accepted it the last, but at least he was always predictable with the lengths he would go to for more power, more authority, more money.

“You're saying the killings could get worse? The blood? The death? You're saying he could get worse?” You say exasperated, your eyebrows furrow as you wait for Steve to reply. You didn't think he could get worse.

Running a hand down his face, Steve roughly pulls his strands back behind his ears before choosing his words carefully.

“I can't say much that won't get you killed, but he's spiralling, and he’s going to take us all down with him unless we do something unless you do something”. Steve says, pushing the hand break up as he turns to you.

You shut your eyes, squeezing them as you slump against the leather seats. Your mind wrestled as it took in all of this, even now, you would never escape your husband? Wouldn't you? Did the fate of the underworld really rest on your shoulders? You want to say no, to jump out of the car and run back to the safety of your apartment but you can't stop the flashes of the 17-year-old boy whose screams still haunted you all these years later. He would've been 21 now, likely to have walked into your diner with those boys from earlier, and most importantly alive, not buried in a shallow grave.

“Okay,” You mutter quietly, so quietly that if Steve didn't have those golden ears of his he would've missed it.

“Okay? You sure?” Steves asks again to make sure he's heard you correctly.

“Okay. Okay ill tell you what I know in exchange for protection. This is what it is right? Purely transactional?” You reply, expectantly.

Steve nods following your words, bringing his palm up to shake your own. It's surprisingly soft, his fingers, like the death and cruelty of his actions, haven't yet spoiled them.

“Just like a business” Steve mutters sparing a glance at you, the same strange expression from before, you both hold onto the grasp longer than a handshake should be. And you find yourself dropping it suddenly, before rubbing your hands against your thigh.

You reach behind the seats, grab your bag and reach for the car door, before Steve’s rough warning stops you, the deep don’t bounce off the car roof and jostles you in your sleep. You know he cants help it, but you catch glimpses of the mafia king just in that one word. You understand what he's able to to, what he's done to get here and most importantly what he’d do if you don't agree.

Steve walks around the car, before opening the door for you, you look down self-consciously. 

“You know you don't have to do all that, open doors and stuff,” You say, following his steps to your apartment door.

You had never been the recipient of chivalry. You didn't get to experience the soft, innocent love everyone else did in high school, skipping straight into marriage with a mafia boss. It was pathetic now that you think about it, but you'd never been romanced, much less felt what love could be.

“I know,” Steve says, hands shoved into his pockets, but you don't let him finish speaking before you continue your heated ramble.

“I mean it, I'm not some prissy princess who needs to have her hand held every minute,” You say, searching for your keys at the bottom of your bag, before struggling to open your door.

The lock always seemed to jam wherever you tried to enter your apartment, to the point where you had to shoulder your way into your hallway to get in.

Steve reaches for the keys between your fingers, pushing it into the lock and opening the door with ease. His fingers didn't even seem to strain as slammed the door against your wall.

Looking up through hooded eyes, you catch his blues darken as he looks down, your face chest centimetres away from his chest, 

“I know, trust me doll, I know” He whispers to you, and you have to pull your eyes away before moving past him, plopping your belongings onto your velvet couch.

Steve leans against the door frame, his tall length seems almost comical compared to the height of your living space, you were sure he'd have to duck to even enter.

You don't want him to enter, do you?

“Just get some sleep, ill swing by later to iron out the formalities” Steve replies, watching you carefully.

Stepping out of your high heels, you snort, calling loudly with your back to him

“Just like business!” You say with your back to him, untying your apron covered in oil and spills.

Steve smiles, amusement lighting up his features as he nods, leaning against the door

“Just like business” He mutters, before shutting the door, and making his way down the crumbling concrete steps.

He steps into the sleek black vehicle that looks out of place against the beat-up Toyota Camry that’s never left, and the busted bike with stolen tires.

You don't notice, but Steve only pulls out when he's sure you've done exactly what he's said, your figure behind pulled curtains scurrying around your room, causing a small smile to pull at his lips.

And he doesn't notice, or at least you think he doesn't, as you peer through yellow curtains, watching his car recede into the distance, the winter moon was now high in the sky, casting a light for his route as the engine of his car roared against the asphalt roads.

This was it, you'd just made a deal with the devil, and you were already elbows deep. You wonder which one would've killed you faster? Being on the run, or being tied up in his twisted games, falling into the depth of Steve Rogers before it swallowed you whole.

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[yaraneechan]

Outline for this meta post:

> evidence shou wasn't tortured or awakened in claw

> noting that shou found out about Touichirou's abilities to transfer powers during wd arc and doesn't have it himself

>Evidence that Shou didn't go through Claw's torture and his power isn't awakened by that/ is a natural esper:

1) During Mob and Touichirou fight, Serizawa says he can't feel Touichirou’s powers anymore. Shou then tells him his powers changed because of stress.

Shou saying “pops told me that a huge amount of stress may awaken your power” shows that Touichirou was the one who explained that to him and not that he had first hand experience, aka his own powers didn't change because of stress up till now. He didn't have powers awakened from stress (…yet)

2) Touichirou explaining to Shou how none of the awakening experiments worked when Shou has powers is another proof that Shou's powers wasn’t awakened by claw:

and what was said in 7 div arc about him being the only one with significant awakened powers from claw training was just rumors. 

The training at claw hq is different from at 7th division. 7th division training results in insignificant powers.

While Claw hq has much harsher training, subjects either get insignificant powers or lose their sanity.

When Touichirou explains this in wd arc to Shou, Shou asks about how hq claw are almost as strong as scars despite not being natural espers. Touichirou explained he transferred his powers to them. (Put a pin on "since you're my son I'm going to tell you"*)

He hadn't explained it to anyone else. Shibata mentions what he heard about awakening experiments not working well and guesses that Touichirou had another way.

which he did, he transferred his powers to them, and the super 5 didn't know about it. They didn't know he can transfer their powers to him either, and that he kept them close to use as spare batteries.

note Shou saw how his father absorbs power from Serizawa.

In short, Shou clearly didn't know about how the awakening experiments go since Touichirou explains it to him for the first time in wd arc, therefore he hasn't been through them. Plus “normal humans went insane or had insignificant powers.” Shou is fine and with significant powers so either he didn't go through it, or he at least had powers before claw training/torture so he doesn't count among the rest of failed experiments. (which I've ruled out him having a 2nd awakening by then the first thing in this post)

Also, Shou didn't know about Touichirou's ability to transfer powers till then. so its safe to say Shou also doesn't have that ability too, or he would've considered the possibility that Touichirou had a way to get the claw guys to have psychic powers besides experiments / torture and figured it out. (Also note that the moment he found out Touichirou could transfer powers, he saw his dad as non human and completely gave up on winning against him*)

so to conclude: Shou did not have power awakening (yet?) and does not have the ability to transfer (more specifically absorb) psychic power (yet?)

-

next up I'll be explaining the parallel between shou and ritsu and their promise to stop family, and how in confession arc the family stress causes ritsu to awaken a new power which is the percentage meter, while family stress made shou this close to awakening power absorption which would've killed him. and how that all connects to mogami-

coming soon~

* : parts i was going to go on a tangent for but held myself back for later

#mp100 #mob psycho 100 #suzuki shou #suzuki touichirou #mp100 meta #mine #mp100 analysis

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #540

Top Ten Gruesome Disney Villain Deaths

Here’s the thing about Disney animations: they’re proper nasty. No, seriously; they’re all about young people who suffer enormous hardship and bereavement. They’re full of betrayal and murder and scenes of abject horror. Nobody dies in Pinocchio, but a bunch of kids are mutated into donkeys and the main character’s dad is eaten by a whale. Lilo and Stitch? Dead parents. Lady and the Tramp? Killer rat. Dumbo? Racism. See? Darkness shrouds the House of Mouse.

One of the ways the films are surprisingly grisly is the manner in which the villains are dispatched. I’ve written before about great Disney villains and their penchants for great musical numbers, but another common connection is that the films end with them being bumped off. It’s not universal – sometimes they’re just deported (Frozen), arrested (Pocahontas), or, well, appear to suffer no punishment at all (Cinderella). And, of course, there is the depressing modern trend for Disney movies to not have a villain at all, something that doesn’t appear to be changing in Strange World (which, from the teaser at least, appears to be one of the “non-musical adventure” films, sadly denying us yet again a proper Disney Villain Song).  

Anyway, it’s not enough that the baddies frequently die, but they also have a tendency to die horribly. These are kids films that, alright, don’t feature fountains of gore, but still go to some nasty places. Immolation, dismemberment, damnation, and lots and lots of falling off tall things. Seriously, Disney villains don’t half fall off things. I could have had several more here. So that’s this list: a celebration of the macabre and the gruesome, the violent and the extreme. From body horror to, well, actual eldritch horror, Walt Disney Animation Studios really runs the gamut. And this is the company that gets called saccharine, sappy, and soft! Nobody’s soul is dragged to hell in My Neighbour Totoro. Although, to be fair, there is an extended sequence where you’re lead to believe a toddler may have drowned, so I guess that’s nasty enough.

Right, here we go. Parental guidance is advised. Ten best Disney deaths.

Ripped to pieces by a pack of hyenas (Scar, The Lion King, 1994): Scar is spared by Simba but, in his own hubris, ends up falling into a pit full of hyenas – the same hyenas he’d just thrown under a bus to save his own skin. The hyenas pounce on him, and as we see from a shadow cast by flickering flames, proceed to tear him apart and devour him. Think about this: he’s literally ripped apart and eaten alive. I know he killed James Earl Jones, but that’s still horrible.

Hit by train and explodes (Sykes, Oliver & Company, 1988): in an underrated and largely forgotten film, small-time mob boss Sykes ends up chasing our heroes (a bunch of dogs, mostly) down a subway track, his demonic and imposing car riding the rails like a train. But, wouldn’t you know, there’s a train coming the other way, and poor old Sykes drives right into it, his car exploding. There’s nothing to imply wider casualties, but this is a brutal end to a villain, like something out of a Bruce Willis movie.

Literally dragged to hell (Dr. Facilier, The Princess and the Frog, 2009): Dr. Facilier is dealing with dark magic, his “friends on the other side”, promising them souls and all sorts to satisfy their demonic urges. When his plan fails the bill comes due, as Mordo would say (from Doctor Strange, keep up!), and these freaky voodoo dolls and tribal masks come to life, dragging Facilier screaming into a grave, his fingers gouging channels in the ground as he tries to get away. He fails. That’s dark.

Hanged by vines (Clayton, Tarzan, 1999): Clayton is another villain undone by hubris, trying to kill Tarzan despite our hero warning him of the dangers of the jungle. He ends up falling from a great height (of course), hanging himself in some vines and presumably breaking his neck. Nasty enough, of course, but the animation really oversells it, the vines going taught as he falls, the shadow of Clayton’s body illuminated by flashes of lightning, his limp feet swaying in the breeze. Quite grisly, all told.

Falls off cliff then crushed to death by a boulder (The Wicked Queen, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, 1937): after seemingly killing Snow White, the evil Queen – still in her haggard old woman disguise – is chased through a stormy forest and up a cliff by the dwarfs. Attempting to crush them with a huge boulder, providence intervenes when her outcropping is struck by lightning and she tumbles to her death, the boulder and huge chunks of the cliff-face falling after her. As if to solidify the whole thing, two nasty-looking vultures then wheel their way down to feast on what remains. So this was how Disney’s first film ended: seven blokes chasing an old woman to her death, after which she’s eaten by birds.

Falls into pool of molten lead (Frollo, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, 1996): Once again we have a confrontation up on top of something, once again we have a villain hubristically, vengefully lunging for one final kill instead of just escaping. And the gargoyle he’s resting on crumbles, its face contorting demonically, before filthy old Frollo plumets into a pool of molten lead, the damning implications of which are pretty heavily signposted throughout the film. Again, I will say: he literally falls into molten lead and is burned alive.

Stabbed through the chest by a boat (Ursula, The Little Mermaid, 1989): there’s not really anything poetic about this one, nor is there really any kind of hubristic overreach. Ursula seems victorious until sexy Prince Eric sails a shipwreck from the bottom of the ocean and plunges its broken prow straight into the Sea Witch’s chest. Really, it’s just how visceral and nasty it is, as Ursula flails her tentacles and slowly succumbs.

Ages rapidly, falls from a window, then crumbles to dust (Mother Gothel, Tangled, 2010): yet again – yet again! – we have a Disney villain falling to their death, although here I’d argue she was dead before she hit the ground. The magic that kept Gothel youthful dissipates, so she ages like that guy from Last Crusade, before – and I think this bit is often overlooked – cute li’l chameleon Pascal deliberately trips her up so she falls out the window to her death. Yes, she’s so far gone that by the time she reaches Earth she’s nought but dust, but all the same: murdered by a lizard.

Falls off Big Ben (Ratigan, The Great Mouse Detective, 1986): as we’ve discussed, the most common way for a Disney baddie to die is to fall off something tall – what we call the Reverse Tom Cruise – and I could have picked a few more here. But there’s something about this finale, a feral Ragitan chasing a dishevelled Basil round the clockwork innards and onto the face of Big Ben, that feels more visceral and, oddly, down-to-Earth. The fight is a brutal struggle, the climax of an action movie, before that final fall. Also just think how high this is for a mouse. He’d hit the ground like a water balloon full of passata.

Turned into a firework (Shan-Yu, Mulan, 1998): Shan-Yu is a nasty piece of work, one of the most violent and murderous Disney villains. Ultimately, however, he’s bested by Mulan in a thrilling rooftop battle, the climax of which is when he’s hit with a rocket that sends him flying through the air and into a tower of fireworks. All the fireworks go off in a tremendous explosion, no doubt scattering bits and pieces of Shan-Yu across a wide area as his charred and tattered remains are turned into a beautiful lightshow. Aw, this one was quite nice actually.

#top ten #disney #disney villains #disney villain death scenes

[twolovelyberries]

97, 98, 99…

#this episode has me in a chokehold #also obsessed with the orange/yellow/purple combo lately #crying over mp100 again #like don’t u get it! people can’t change that easily! #i really am just like everyone else! #we are all special! #we are all mundane! #mob had failed to change as he had promised himself! #wtf ! #my art #mob psycho 100 #mp100 #mp100 fanart #psychic powers and me #teruki hanazawa #shigeo kageyama #mob mp100 #teru mp100 #tw mild eyestrain #my art 2021 #mp100 fan art #illustration

[yandere-toons]

Can you do platonic and romantic yandere Bruno x reader head canons???

Bruno Madrigal (Platonic & Romantic Headcanons)

WARNING: Social rejection/ostracism, familial manipulation, toxic mindset.

PLATONIC:

The town of Encanto has long since marked Bruno with a reputation for villainy. It is not his intention, but his friend is rapidly branded as a vile cohort of evil and comes to be shunned just as much as Bruno.

With the fake threat of Bruno cursing them for wronging his friend looming over everyone, the town becomes ever rifer with superstition and is split into two different reactions.

Half of Encanto resigns themselves to life as a chronic pushover who allows his friend to do anything they want without question, and the other half is one incident away from forming a mob and demanding that they leave the town.

Bruno tries to relieve his friend's distress with humour and offers to play with his rats, inwardly chastising himself for the fact they have been forced to be an outcast because he wanted to talk to someone without foretelling the next tragedy.

This, as much as the revelation about Mirabel, drives him to seclusion. It is a decision that Bruno laments on days when he finds himself wishing for someone to remind him that he is wanted, but he tries and fails to comfort himself with the thought that his friend is living a better life despite his lack of involvement in it.

The idea of them forgetting him and even thanking his disappearance is a constant source of nightmares, frightening him away from the possibility of looking into their future and confirming it.

Regardless of his friend's true opinion of him, Bruno views them as his closest companion and deeply misses their presence. This grief festers until he is pretending that they came to visit and are always behind him to explain why he cannot see them.

Invisible food is eaten while one-sided conversations are had about his rat telenovela and what he assumes their life may be now, and he jokes about the farce being a way to hone his acting skills to bridle the urge to go knock on their door in the middle of the night.

Bruno combats these anxieties by telling himself that his friend appreciates the reasoning behind his choice and would be happy to welcome him back someday. After Mirabel helps him rectify his relationship with the rest of the family, one of his first tasks is tracking down his friend for an overdue reunion. If they are nowhere to be found, it is akin to losing all his rats at once.

ROMANTIC:

Observant eyes on the streets notice how a quick hello every day and awkward glances blossom into Bruno seeking his partner to chat with and vent all the bad news and equally horrible responses he endured. The town's initial consensus is that his partner is slated to die soon or suffer from a life-changing hardship, but this perceived disaster never happens.

As the other citizens begin to act like the two of them together are a bad omen, Bruno expects the same from his partner.

Once it becomes common knowledge that the local oracle is interested in someone, the denizens of Encanto avoid them for fear of upsetting Bruno and earning a deadly prophecy. There is some pity and well-wishes to be found in the braver citizens, but predominantly, his partner is treated as a sacrifice to appease a dark force.

The saving grace arrives in the form of Bruno's family, who worry about his partner's safety and tell him not to disturb them.

Their concern is derived less from a genuine understanding of the relationship and more from the belief that any association with Bruno is unwanted and ill-fated.

Bruno is susceptible to pressure from his family and agrees to limit his time with them lest he incurs the wrath of Alma, only breaking the promise when he is especially frustrated with his family's treatment of him or his partner approaches him first.

During his time in the walls of Casa Madrigal, Bruno has many years to dwell on the relationship. The solitude does nothing beneficial for him and inspires greater impatience and regrets about not being honest with his partner when he had the chance.

Many times, he considers looking into the future in hopes of having even the semblance of a connection with them, but his fears of seeing a grave or them with someone else convince him that, at least for the time being, ignorance is better.

After he returns to his family's good graces, Bruno asks what has become of his partner. Alma and his sisters are not prone to lie to his face, but there is some hesitation if the update is an undesirable one. If they moved far away from Encanto or got married, it crushes him emotionally.

A long period of quiet despair results where Bruno debates the ethics of using his gift to see what they are doing, ultimately requiring his family to persuade him not to search for them and try to rekindle a dead relationship.

Do anything you want with my work, but never make me boring!

#Yandere #Yandere x You #Yandere x Reader #Yandere x Y/N #Yandere Imagines #Yandere Headcanons #Yandere Encanto #Encanto x Reader #Bruno Madrigal #Encanto Bruno #Disney Encanto #Encanto Disney #Encanto 2021 #Encanto #Reader #Fanfic #Imagines #Disney x Reader #Yandere Disney #Reader Insert

[beyondspaceandstars]

A Simple Housewife

Relationship: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader AU Warnings: non-graphic violence, angst Summary: Mob!AU - A new member starts getting too friendly with you one night, forcing Bucky to show a side of himself you’ve never seen before. And possibly never want to see again.  A/N: in my list of favorite AUs right under soulmate!au is mob!au........idk why i can’t explain it but I love it it’s such good content. and i realized well i can contribute to it as a genre so here I am lmao. (also, for reference, the work contains college-age peter parker - i aged him up fyi)

Masterlist

You liked how you two worked as a team. Bucky liked to hold meetings at your home, and you liked to host them. It was an unspoken agreement every time he’d come home and rattle off who was going to be around the next night.

These instances always sent you into a frenzy, but a good kind of frenzy. It gave you something to do. While a simple housewife per your husband’s request, these events meant you could fill your days planning menus, table settings, wine pairings, grocery shopping… It was therapeutic in some ways and even nicer knowing it would be appreciated.

His men loved to fawn over your perfectly cooked food or premium hand-picked wine and you simply adored it. While it sometimes rubbed Bucky the wrong way seeing you all giggly over compliments from other men, he typically let it slide. It was never very serious and certainly never went beyond sweet comments. You embraced your hosting duties while pretending to ignore the conversations that would go on in the next room after the meal, much to Bucky’s content.

The night had started like any other. Bucky came home the previous day and told you there was going to be a meeting tomorrow night and to expect to host ten of his men. That seemed like such a smaller crowd than he normally had over, so you inquired, curious.

"Only ten?" You asked, already rushing to grab your pen and paper for the planning.

Bucky nodded, leaning against the counter. "Yeah, we’ve got someone new coming on and I don’t want to overwhelm him."

"A new guy?" Your eyes lit up. "You mean someone who hasn’t tasted my lasagna?"

Your husband couldn’t hold back the chuckle at your innocent awe. Moments like these made him wonder how someone so warm could ever deal with someone like him. 

You weren’t totally clueless about his career, you knew at least a general description of what he did for a living, but, on the other hand, you hadn’t ever seen it. You roughly knew there were… multiple sides to him but those all seemed so distant, so pointless, at the time. In this home, with you, he was just Bucky. Your Bucky. Your husband. The one who showered you with love and appreciation.

"Yes, doll," your husband confirmed. "There’s someone who hasn’t had your famous lasagna."

"Wonderful!" You clapped and started writing out the menu. "Are there any requests? I certainly don’t want to mess anything up. God forbid the new guy thinks I’m a bad host or something."

You heard Bucky sigh as you continued making your notes. A hand came to your shoulder softly, halting your actions. You turned to face your husband, who was looking down at you with a soft smile, easing your worries nearly completely.

"Everything is going to be just fine," he said, placing a loving kiss on your forehead. You helplessly melted into the touch. "There’s nothing to worry about."

***

You were running around the kitchen like a mad man when Bucky came home the next night with a couple of men already following behind. He called out to greet you like some cheesy sitcom entrance. You force yourself to halt your panic, knowing it was in your best interest to go greet him and the first guests. Smoothing out your apron, you double-checked nothing would explode in flames upon your absence and made your way to the foyer.

"Hi, honey," you smiled as your eyes landed on your well-dressed, sophisticated-looking husband. For all the time spent together, he never did fail to make you swoon simply by just standing there.

"Hey, doll." Bucky matched your smile and gave you a kiss on the cheek knowing you would stress even more if he dared to smudge your lipstick.

When you two parted, your eyes wandered over your husband’s shoulder to the two men standing in front of the door. The one staring at you two exchanging welcomes you recognized right away as your husband’s right-hand-man Steve. Ever so strong and important looking.

But the boy standing next to Steve was a mystery. He was a bit smaller than them both but still had some height on you. This didn’t take away, though, from this timid look. He gazed around your home seeming so in awe of it all. He didn’t realize you were staring at him until Steve nudged him.

Bucky picked up on your curiosity and immediately jumped into introductions. Motioning towards the boy, "This is Peter. He’s the new member I was telling you about."

"Oh, of course," You smiled, outstretching your hand. Peter accepted the shake, a little on the enthusiastic side. "Very nice to meet you."

"It’s very nice to meet you too, Mrs. Barnes." The boy responded, holding slightly too much eye-contact, but you couldn’t blame him.

Your hands disconnected and you chuckled at the formalities, waving a hand in dismissal. You told him to call you by your first name. "The whole misses thing feels so serious," you insisted.

Peter just smiled, a twinkle in his eyes almost. He seemed to relax at your casualness. After the introductions, you led the men into the front room, offering up drinks and hors d’oeuvres. They helped themselves as you started to make your way back to the kitchen. For some reason, you decided to look back at the group. Your eyes met Peter’s immediately. The other men didn’t seem to notice, engrossed in some conversation as they poured their beverages. You simply smiled at the boy and headed back to the food.

It wasn’t too long after the first arrivals that the rest of the members started arriving. You didn’t have time to personally greet them all but Bucky assured you that was never necessary. You two had your own things to run, he liked to joke.

With everything places — food, silverware, centerpieces — you called the men into the dining room. They oohed and awed at the spread of lasagna, bread, veggies… All food groups were represented, you thought. As predicted, they began praising you for the meal as if it was the first time in their life that they’d ever eaten and it made you giggle. These were some of the toughest people you’d ever known and yet a simple baking dish of pasta and sauce could amaze them.

Once everyone was seated and digging in, you took your seat at the other end of the table, directly across from Bucky. As you began passing around the bread, you surprisingly found Peter sitting next to you.

"They made you sit down at this end?" You asked, handing him the breadbasket. Usually, the members dreaded sitting near the wife. While they were all so kind, in moments like these, they’d rather be at the other end looking so important.

"New guy," Peter shrugged, taking a piece of bread and moving it along.

"I thought this meeting was, like, for you," you said, cutting into the slice of lasagna one of the other men were so kind to serve you.

"No," he shook his head, beginning to eat. "At least that’s not how Mr. Barnes described it. Doesn’t matter, though. It’s just nice to be here."

You smiled, delighted by his optimism, having not seen many new members in your time with Bucky. "I hope the foods okay. I got nervous when Bucky said there’d be someone new coming around."

Peter scoffed as if finding your worry crazy which eased your mind a little. He took another bite of food. "This is easily one of the best meals I’ve had in a long time."

"Thank you, Peter," you said, taking a sip of your wine. Peter copied your motion, looking at you above the wine glass rim as he sipped.

"You did everything, yeah?" He asked, holding his wine while motioning towards the tables and surroundings. "Foods, plates, all of it?"

You nodded, probably coming off a bit more eager than you should’ve, but you couldn’t help yourself. Sure, Bucky’s guests loved to compliment your cooking but no one ever acknowledged the other pieces put into the meal.

"I try to change the table setting every season," you said, "and I like the food to be seasonal, too. There are some lovely markets around and I just adore browsing them… Oh! And the centerpieces, I got the flowers there, too…"

Your rambling died down as you caught Bucky staring at you from the other end of the table. One guy was trying to talk his ear off but he seemed interested in your conversation. Curiously, you started eying your husband back as you picked at your food. His face held an unreadable expression but, eventually, his eyes left yours and were now more focused on the one sitting next to you.

Appearing oblivious, Peter continued the conversation. "Well, I think the flowers are a nice touch," he said. "Pretty flowers picked by a pretty girl."

Your heart skipped a little at that comment. You couldn’t ignore the fact it was quite bold. While you were away of the gazes you got sometimes and the possibility you were talked about behind the scenes but to say it here? At the dinner table? With your husband just in earshot?

But at the same time, you had to consider, he was nice and probably just trying to butter you up hoping for a good word put in with the bossman. There was no doubt people thought they could get to Bucky through you but, in reality, you didn’t stick your hands in any of it. Nope, you just married into it.

Not completely sure how to respond, you simply accepted the compliment, "Well, thank you. That’s very sweet."

Peter smiled at your words, looking a bit proud of himself. You turned back to your plate and tried to eat your meal in silence.

Once everyone was finished, the group started making their way out of the dining room. You shooed them, promising to be out with coffee in a bit.

You were deep into cleaning, having finally carried all the dishes from the dining room to the kitchen when someone entered.

At first, you didn’t explicitly hear them as the faucet was running heavy from your battle of scrubbing dishes. Suddenly, you could sense a presence right behind you at the sink. Turning around, you nearly jumped out of your skin as you came face-to-face with Peter, looking almost amused at scaring you. You were surprised and also… not surprised.

"Sorry," you let out a breathy chuckle. "I didn’t hear you come in."

"That’s okay," he said and motioned towards the dirty plates lining the counter. "Do you need any help?"

"Oh," you frowned. "Shouldn’t you be in the meeting with everyone else?

He shook his head, "Mr. Barnes doesn’t want to start until he’s had coffee."

"Well, you can let him know it’s brewing away," you said, trying to keep your tone serious as you could. You turned back to the sink, praying he got the hint.

He hadn’t, you realized, as Peter came around to stand at your side, leaning against the counter. He stood, arms crossed, watching you.

It was weird — actually, this entire situation was weird. You didn’t think anyone but you or your husband had been in this kitchen before let alone actually know where it was in your home.

Despite how odd you found it, the last thing you wanted to be was rude. You didn’t want to think about what could ensue from your husband losing a guy.

"It’s kind of sad, Mrs. Barnes," Peter crossed his arms, seemingly ignoring your previous request to call you by your first name. You glanced at him, confused. "You’re so kind to do all this and none of them even offer to help you clean up."

"Oh, no, It’s okay-,"

"It’s really sad," He repeated, completely cutting off your attempt at a defense. You frowned and went back to cleaning the plates, praying your attempt to ignore him would encourage him to walk out. There was a weird feeling growing in your gut.

"Such a pretty girl shouldn’t have to do so much," Peter said, softly. "It’s not fair to you."

And that’s when you felt it. His hand slowly came up to rest on your lower back. You immediately tensed under his touch, mind spinning. What the hell had you ended up in? Should you have tried harder to get him out? Gosh, but he seemed so harmless-

His hand started inching upward and then back down, creeping a little lower each time with the motion. With your stance frozen, all you could do was focus on the soapy water in the sink, unsure of your next move. He took the hesitance as a chance to close the gap between you two. A few more shifts and he could have you fully pressed against the sink.

But before you could even ponder about his next move, the swinging kitchen door busted open. You both flinched at the sudden noise but Peter didn’t seem to move. You looked over to find it was Bucky in the doorway, gun drawn and pointed directly at Peter.

Your heart sank when you saw the weapon. Sure, you knew there was weaponry stored in the home but you had never definitely seen it. You could sometimes make out outlines of guns in suit pockets but now you were on the other end of one. While it wasn’t meant for you, with your poor positioning, a single shot and you could be taken down. And by your husband-

"What the fuck are you doing?" Bucky finally spoke, never taking his eyes off the person nearly towering over you. The gun was very steady, just like his words. But everything else about him was unlike anything you’d ever witnessed before. His eyes were dark, his features so harsh. This felt like a man you had never seen before.

"We were just talking," Peter answered. His voice was casual but you could feel a slight tremor in his hand. Or maybe that was just your body shaking uncontrollably. You couldn’t tell. "I offered to help her clean up."

Bucky cocked the gun. "Get your hands off her."

"Honey," you spoke softly, your voice slightly cracking from the tears that were beginning to form. "Please put the gun down."

"Not until he gets his hands off you, doll."

"Bucky, please." He wouldn’t look at you. He was determined to look beyond you and it scared you to death.

"You have five seconds to back away from her," Bucky took a step closer. "Or I’ll be forced to mess up my girl’s lovely kitchen."

You gasped at the sharpness in his voice, the entire darkness of it all. You started begging under your breath, hoping whoever or whatever heard the helpless prayers.

Finally, after what felt like hours to you, Peter stepped away from you. You turned to look back at the copy water where your hands were still submerged. They shook as you removed them and you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding.

Regaining some composure, you backed away from the sink and turned to your husband. Bucky still had the gun pointed at Peter, completely focused on him. Slowly, you approached him, your hands raised as if surrendering. You just needed to get the gun put away and then you could run to your room for some solitude. Fuck the other people probably oblivious, just relaxing and joking in your front room. This was typical business for them, they probably encountered your husband’s dark demeanor day in and day out, but this was going to take a toll on you.

"Honey, his hands are off of me," you whispered, slowly tiptoeing closer. "Put down the gun."

"He put his hands on you, doll," Bucky was answering you but he somehow sounded so distant, so consumed. "I let someone into this house that was going to do God knows what to you."

"No, no," you shook your head and you meant it. You didn’t think Peter was totally malicious. Just someone with a crush, high off excitement in a new place. "I really don’t think he meant harm."

"You’re too kind," Bucky scoffed. "You’re too kind, too innocent, too naive-,"

He held the gun stronger, seemingly preparing to shoot any second now. You were at the end of your rope with the realization. The waterworks were flowering uncontrollably now.

"James," you said, anger breaking through the tears. He seemed to freeze ever so slightly at your usage of his first name. "You really want to do this in front of your wife?"

Something clicked. You could feel it, you knew it. He didn’t answer and instead slowly lowered the weapon, placing it on the counter. Your husband turned to you. Seeing his opportunity, Peter sped past you two out of the kitchen. Neither of you really registered it. You were staring at one another, watching each other even begin to realize what had happened.

Now you were actually clueless. Were you meant to talk about this? Or did you just deal with it in time? The silence was killer but all your mind could focus on was the coffee machine that had gone silent, telling you it was done brewing. It was such a stupid, random thing to even focus on but you felt like your brain would explode if gave anything else the time of day.

"The coffee is ready for your meeting," you said, pulling off your apron and throwing it on the counter. Bucky watched you as stormed out of the kitchen, looking completely stunned and equally clueless.

You sat at your vanity in the bedroom. Thankfully you were able to avoid the front room, having no desire for anyone to see you in with mascara running down your cheeks.

You furiously scrubbed off your make-up despite it already almost off from the tears. Your emotions were just all over the place at this point. You didn’t know if you were angry, surprised, sad…

Mostly, you realized, you felt dumb. You could parade around being a little housewife, pretending she lived a normal life with a normal husband who had a normal job but that just wasn’t it. That wasn’t your reality in this moment. As much as you knew what his career entailed, seeing it up close like that was a whole new level. You thought you knew. You thought you knew so much.

You were just finishing changing out of your dress when the bedroom door opened. In the mirror, your angry eyes met Bucky’s worried ones. He entered slowly, shutting the door behind him. Part of you was pleased with this situation. He chose to check on you, pausing his meeting, but at the same time, you didn’t know if you could deal with anyone right now.

"How are you doing?" He finally spoke up, voice cutting through the tension.

You scoffed, "I just saw my husband pull a gun on a person in our fucking home."

Bucky shook his head and made his way over to the bed, where he sat at the edge, facing you. He wanted to get at you for swearing but much worse things had happened tonight that he didn’t know the point in it. Bucky never wanted to bring anything like that home.

He didn’t take care of that kind of "business" in this house. The meetings were routine, typically check-ins, but any deals or assignments were handled off the premises in fear of something turning ugly. He just wanted to keep you from that ugly. His sweet, soft wife who got excited over making lasagna and picking apples at the farmer’s market was never meant to be thrown into any of this. Especially not in the kind of way that just went down.

"I didn’t mean for that to happen," Bucky said. You rolled your eyes and turned quickly in your chair to face him. He ignored your attitude. "He had his hands on you. He was practically on top of you. Do you understand that? Please tell me you understand how that would make me angry."

"God, Bucky, you pulled a gun on an unarmed person!" You exclaimed. "I understand you were upset, I completely get that, but what… What was that? Who was that?"

His head tilted, confused, questioning. You shook your head in disbelief. Did he not even realize the mode he went into? The whole other person he seemed to encompass in those few minutes?

"You… you weren’t yourself," you mumbled and averted your gaze to your fingers which were fidgeting, restless. "You were scary. Disconnected. I didn’t know that person."

Bucky didn’t say anything at first. He got up from the bed and walked over to where you were seated at your vanity. He crouched down, trying to get you to look at him. Your heart pounded furiously at his close presence.

"You shouldn’t have seen that," He said. "You shouldn’t have seen any of that, doll."

His hands came to grasp yours. You wanted to pull away but you weren’t fast enough. He gripped your hands firmly as if scared you were going to vanish. Your head was swimming with even more confusion as he avoided your questioning.

"Can you even explain yourself?" You asked, finally looking up at him. Bucky’s worry seemed to have melted away and was replaced by something you once again couldn’t put your finger on.

He shook his head. The grip on your hands got tighter. "You have to understand when things come up I must act accordingly."

You didn’t understand but you had to understand. You knew you did. He was right. While jarring, that other side of Bucky did exist out there and he was probably the reason he could be so successful. And while that was something you could work on accepting, you didn’t want to see it in your home.

But for now, you didn’t want to deal with it. Emotions for you both were running high and there was no telling what could come out of your mouth anymore. You’d come back to it and work it out. There was no way you could avoid it. You didn’t think you could ever be scrubbed clean of what you saw.

"Okay," you mumbled and felt his hold on your hands loosen. "Just… Please don’t bring your work home for the time being. We can discuss this in the morning."

Bucky nodded, running his hand from your hands to your shoulder, lovingly. He mumbled okay and you sighed in relief.

For a second you wanted to just sit there, engrossed in the comfort his touch was bringing, completely and fully enjoy that you had your Bucky back, but then your brain remembered the people downstairs.

"Oh, honey," you said, "the guys are probably waiting for you."

"No," Bucky’s head shook. "I sent them home. You’re more important."

You melted at the words. Yes. Confirmed. Your Bucky was back to you. The man you loved and gave everything. He was putting you first.

"You didn’t need to do that," you mumbled, bashfully. Bucky chuckled at your reaction.

"Of course I did," he insisted. "I was worried. I never wanted you to see that. You didn’t sign up for that."

"No, Bucky, I really didn’t," you shook your head.

He sighed, "And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

You looked down again, suddenly worried you were putting too much guilt on him but at the same time, that felt silly to even consider. You weren’t sure anymore. The day was overwhelming as the minutes continued.

"Could we just go to bed now?"

Bucky removed his hands from your shoulders and stood, allowing you to get out of the chair and make your way to the bed, under the fluffy comforter. Your husband watched, waiting until you were comfortable.

"I’ve got a few phone calls to make but then I’ll come to bed, okay?"

You nodded, eyes shut already halfway into your dream world. You heard Bucky chuckle as he turned out the lights and shut the door quietly.

You lulled yourself to sleep, head still spinning from the earlier acts. The whiplash your husband gave you was starting to catch up but how much more could you think about it? It’d come back and you’d have to deal but for now, you could pretend. At least while you slept, you could go back to putting that distance between yourself and any side of Bucky that wasn’t husband Bucky. For just a bit, you could pretend you didn’t know so much.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

taglist note: i chose not to tag in this work b/c it is an AU and was unsure if people were comfortable with being tagged in such.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #avengers #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #marvel #mcu #mcu fic #the winter soldier #writing* #mob!au #angst #fluff

[idy-ll-ique]

One And Only.

Pairing: Mob Boss!Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Warnings: s*x

Requested: nope

Summary: Their marriage is for business purposes only but they fall in love. Until Y/N starts having a doubt... does Steve Rogers have a mistress? It's all a misunderstanding...

Author's Note: Hiya peeps, iw!Steve in this one. Enjoy!

---

"Hey, you doing okay?" Y/N turned away from the mirror and smiled at Natasha and Wanda. "As well as a bride could be minutes before her wedding," she jabbed, making the ladies chuckle. "It's going to be fine, Y/N, Steve will treat you well. We've been friends with him for years, one thing we know about him is that he never treats women wrong."

"I don't doubt that, it's just that— I met him a week ago. One time. I don't even know him, anything about him, other than the fact that he leads the most feared crime gang in the entire country," Y/N muttered, tugging at the sapphire necklace she was wearing. Something blue. "You will get to know him soon enough, though. Come on now, everyone is waiting."

Her father stood outside the door, a soft smile on his face. "You look lovely, honey," he cooed, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead as the two ladies sauntered past them into the Hall with their partners. "Thank you, papa." The two people walked into the Hall and everyone stood up to greet the bride. At the end of the aisle stood Steve, tall and proud, a huge smile on his face.

Y/N couldn't help but smile back. As soon as she reached near him her father let go, but not before pressing a kiss to her cheek. Steve took her hand and brought it to his lips when she stood in front of him. The priest standing next to them began his usual recitations; Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today… Y/N didn't really pay attention to his speech.

She was busy staring at Steve, who looked magnificent in an all black suit, his dirty blond hair and full beard making her feel all sorts of things. His smile softened a bit, also not listening to the priest. He was observing her. It was supposed to be purely transactional, the marriage, but he knew it wasn't gonna end like one. It would be a proper marriage.

Happily married.

She looked wonderful. He met her a week ago; a bit wary at the concept of merging two mobs by marriage but the moment he saw her, he knew he had to have her. She was his, no one else's. The two quickly exchanged their vows as the ring bearers came forward with the rings. The bride and the groom took the rings with smiles and turned to face each other.

"Steve Rogers, do you take Y/N Y/L/N to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to her, for as long as you both shall live?" The priest turned to Steve expectantly.

"I do," Steve spoke, loud and clear, as he slipped the ring on Y/N's finger. Y/N had to admit, she felt a bit giddy when those words left his mouth.

"Y/N Y/L/N, do you take Steve Rogers to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health and forsaking all others, be faithful only to him so long as you both shall live?" Y/N smiled shyly at Steve. "I do."

Steve grinned widely when she neatly placed the ring on his finger. "You may now kiss the bride." And the whole room erupted into stentorian cheering as Steve gathered his wife in his arms, pressing his lips to hers in a deep kiss. Only when he heard a wolf-whistle coming from the crowd did Steve stop, pulling away to look at his out-of-breath wife.

"Mrs Rogers," he spoke fondly and she giggled. "Mr Rogers," she teased as they turned to the crowd, Y/N clutching Steve's arm as they smiled widely. Not many people had attended the impromptu wedding; just Steve's close friends and Y/N's father. Her bridesmaids were Natasha and Sharon, with Wanda being her maid-of-honor.

Steve's groomsmen were Sam and Tony, with Bucky being his best man. "Well, the first dance goes to the bride and her father, I'd say," Clint called out, already helping himself to a bottle of beer as music started playing. Steve reluctantly handed his wife over to her father, bidding her with a sweet kiss on her cheek.

"I hope you know why I had to do this, honey," her father sighed as they danced in the middle of the Hall. "I know, papa. Don't feel bad, I think I'm starting to like Steve. He seems friendly enough and Nat and Wan told me he's good to women." Her dad chuckled. "Well, he doesn't have the label of promiscuity that other leaders do." He was right.

Steve Rogers never really had time for dating, too busy leading the salient mafia. Also, the thought of having women just for a night or two didn't sit right with him, so he never went in that direction. "Can I have this dance now?" As soon as the song changed Steve appeared on her side, holding his hand out. She smiled and took his hand.

He easily slid an arm around her waist as the music slowed. One hand around her waist and the other holding her hand in classic ballroom dancing position, he pulled her closer. She rested her head on his chest, the arm which was around his neck lowering to his middle. "I'll treat you well," Steve whispered as they languidly swayed in the middle of the room.

"I know. If it's not much, um, I think I'd like to take things slow…" she hinted, hoping he'd notice. And he did. "Of course, of course, we can do that. I don't want to make you uncomfortable in any way," he assured her. "Thank you, Mr Rogers," she mumbled. "My pleasure, Mrs Rogers." The rest of the ceremony was enjoyable to say the least.

---

10 months had passed since the wedding.

Steve and Y/N were still taking things slow, against their own wishes.

It was a misunderstanding.

They loved each other; they really did, but they couldn't bring themselves to say the words to the other. Steve was purposely not making the first move, in fear that his wife would think he was rushing things. Y/N, on the other hand, had started severely doubting herself because 10 months have passed, does he not want to be with me anymore?

She was expecting him to make the first move, and he was expecting her to give him the permission first. It was annoying, to say the least. They were still friendly with each other, so Steve didn't pay much attention to the anxiety his wife was feeling. Y/N was beside herself with worry that had increased tenfold since... well, 15 minutes ago. She had overheard a conversation.

"So, how's Smith treating ya?"

"Same old, ya know. He has like 3 bitches as mistresses, thinks I don't know about 'em. Which mob man doesn't have a mistress in today's world, ha?"

"Preach, sister. I'd think even Rogers has one, heard somewhere that he and his little wife haven't even consummated their marriage. Probably doesn't even wanna be with her, he did marry her for the business."

"Mmhm, I agree. What about you, Lin?"

"Oh, Danny? Probably out there sleeping with Denise."

She didn't mean to eavesdrop on their personal conversation, but she couldn't help it. Mistress? She was familiar with the term, but what she was not familiar with was the fact that nearly all married mobsters had one. And when they mentioned Steve, she was done for. Crying, she had gone back to her room, collapsing on the bed, sobbing.

In her crying state, she failed to notice Steve also in the room as she raked her brain, thinking about all the times Steve had come home from work. He had given her no reason to believe that he had another woman, but what if he was just that good at hiding it? "Sweetheart? My love, why are you crying?" The bed dipped next to her.

Steve had just stepped out of the shower when his wife had thrown the door of their shared suite open, falling on the bed with a nerve-wracking sob. Why was she crying? "S-Steve…" she stammered and he pulled her on his lap, rocking her back and forth, getting her to calm down. It worked as Y/N's heart rate slowed down.

"Y/N, tell me, what happened? Who hurt you, tell me their names." Steve suddenly saw red at the prospect of someone hurting his wife. "N-No one hurt me, I just… I accidentally overheard a conversation I shouldn't have and—" She trailed off when her breath hitched. Steve soothingly rubbed her back, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

"What were they talking about?"

"Mistresses. One of the ladies said that nearly all mob men had mistresses and I— We haven't even consummated our marriage, haven't done anything besides kissing so I just thought— Do you have a mistress?" Her question shocked him. Him? Keeping a mistress when he had a wife he was head-over-heels for? "My darling, I love you."

She looked up at his words. "You do?" she mumbled, taking a deep breath. "Of course I do. The only reason I didn't say anything was because you told me, on the day of our wedding, that you wanted to take things slow. Before doing something, I needed your permission and that's why I haven't made a move on you." Y/N felt very silly all of a sudden.

"I'm so sorry for accusing you—"

He chuckled and shook his head. "Don't apologize to me, princess. Come here." He hugged her tightly, cradling the back of her head as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. "Do you know how many of my colleagues have asked me the same question?" She gently shook her head. "One too many. Do you know what I say to them each time?"

"No…"

"I say, why would I have a mistress when my wife makes me the happiest person on the planet? Why would I have a mistress when my wife is an angel personified? You guys are just jealous that she's mine and not yours." Y/N's skin burnt at his praise and she burrowed closer to him. "Steve," she muttered bashfully and felt him chuckle underneath her.

"Will you allow me to show you just how much I love you?"

"Yes."

He gently lowered her on the bed and hovered above her, one large hand coming to rest on her cheek. Then he made quick work of their clothes until they were bare in front of each other; Steve's eyes went wide with awe when he saw her body. "You are perfect," he declared, his warm hands grabbing every bit of skin it came in contact with as his lips touched her neck.

Y/N mewled underneath him when he shamelessly groped both her breasts, groaning. "So perfect. So beautiful. Only mine, my one and only," he whispered, pressing his lips to hers in a chaste kiss as he felt his shaft harden. "I love you," she blurted out as one of his hands found her core, his fingers scissoring her open, getting her ready for penetration.

"I love you too, my sweet," he smiled at her before lining his shaft against her core. He pushed in inch-by-inch, giving her some time to adjust to his size. He was bigger than anyone she had previously been with, much bigger. Y/N bit her lip to stifle a moan as he bottomed out inside her, grunting. "None of that," he rasped, "I want to hear you."

Y/N groaned when he lazily rotated his hips, not holding back, just like he asked. "That's it, baby girl. Just like that." He sped up inside her, grabbing the headboard of the bed, each snap of his hips sending waves of pleasure washing over Y/N. "Oh, Steve," she whimpered, her hands balling into fists around the bedsheets she was clutching, moving weightlessly against him.

"Are you close, my dear?" he growled when her walls clenched around him. She meekly nodded, throwing her head back as she tried to hold in. "Only one moment, love, I'm close too." His thrusts soon got sloppier. "Cum with me," he ground out before letting go, shooting his load inside her. Y/N came just moments later, her arms wrapping around Steve's shoulders when he slumped on her.

"There we go, our marriage is sealed," he joked and she laughed tiredly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Steve rolled off of her, smiling gently when he saw her drifting in and out of consciousness. "Go to sleep, I'm right here. I'll take care of you." He got up and walked to the closet, taking out a spare towel. Running it under some hot water, he sat next to her and cleaned her up.

Then he cleaned himself up, put on a pair of pyjama pants and lay down next to his sleeping wife, an automatic smile blooming on his face. He'd dreamed that their first time would be unforgettable, and it was, but he also wished it was… longer. God knew he was an insatiable man; but he also didn't want to pressure the woman he had grown to love.

There's always a next time, anyway.

"Sleep tight, my dear."

---

A/N: Leave a like if you enjoyed, thanks for reading!

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steven grant rogers #steve rogers fluff #captain america #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans characters #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #writing #writeblr #fanfic

[dollslayer]

Botanical Interest - In Bloom

Soft!Mob!Steve Rogers x florist!Reader

Summary: Steve comes home to you angry after a rough day at work. He made a promise to keep his work life separate but can he keep it?

W/C: 4,103

Warnings: Angst, mentions of past abuse, smut, swearing, alcohol consumption

A/N: Hi there! A part three for our soft mob Steve and his lovely florist. Thank you so much to everyone that has shown interest in my work so far, if you like it please reblog and comment!! You can also check out my other stuff if you haven't yet. Cheers!

Botanical Interest Masterlist I Main Masterlist

_____________

When Steve Rogers had asked you to be his girlfriend you knew there was a weight attached to it. A long talk over a stack of waffles and a couple of beers left Steve with a ‘yes’ and some ground rules.

After the incident in the alleyway you both agreed that he left his work at the door whenever you spent time together. Steve’s profession has made you uneasy since you met him and you two couldn’t avoid it forever.

A month later and you’ve managed to avoid conflict for the most part. Nothing as bold as that day in the alley, just small moments where he’d have to take a phone call, once when he had to cancel your plans for a ‘work incident’. But still he really was trying to keep his work and personal life separate and you appreciated it.

It had bothered you that he had to do those things but it’s not as though your work hadn’t impacted your time together either. Being a florist meant a lot of late nights when you worked events. Wedding season in full swing, every weekend was a busy one for you.

That’s why Monday’s have become almost sacred to you, your one day off a week. You and Steve always spent time together, sometimes you’d go out or stay home and just relax.

This Monday Steve had promised to come over and make you dinner. He’d only ever tried to cook for you once and it had ended with a lasagna burnt so badly you had to open every window in the apartment just to get the charred smell out. You couldn’t wait for him to redeem himself and take him to bed after you both came out of your food comas.

You were cleaning the kitchen when you heard your phone buzz. You had asked Steve if he wanted you to pick up any groceries since you had the day off. Expecting a list you were met with mild disappointment.

Running a little late, doll. 6:30 and not a minute later, I promise. Don’t worry about groceries. I'll get it all taken care of, just enjoy your day off.

You were kinda miffed but at least he gave you a heads up and he was going to get the groceries. You picked your sponge back up and scrubbed away at the counter.

________

Expecting to be let down, you were pleasantly surprised when 6:30 rolled around and your doorbell sounded. You buzzed him up and waited patiently for him at your door.

Steve appeared as he rounded the corner and he looked exhausted, irritated maybe. He carried a lot of tension in his shoulders and his suit jacket was long gone. His tie was undone and his sleeves were rolled up to where you could see well toned forearms. You bit your lip thinking of those arms holding you in place in bed.

Maybe we should just ditch the dinner and skip straight to dessert.

He approached you and you leaned up to give him a kiss.

“Hi, honey. How are you?” You greeted him as you shut the door behind you.

He set the groceries down onto the counter with some force and you winced. Okay so he did have a rough day. Do I ask him about it? I don’t wanna talk about his work but I don’t want him to feel like he can’t talk to me about his day.

He sighed and turned to face you, took his tie off completely and ran a hand through his hair.

“Don’t worry about it” he responded as he took a beer out of your fridge.

You were off-put by the abruptness of his answer. Maybe he was just short with you because he didn’t want to talk about work.

You stepped closer and tried to approach him again.

“I-“

“I said don’t worry about it.” Steve snapped, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and swiped the screen, visibly annoyed. “I gotta take this”. He slammed the door to your bathroom shut behind him and left you stunned in the middle of your kitchen.

What just happened? You had never seen him so upset aside from when you caught him mid-punch a month ago with Mr. Andersen.

Realistically you knew it wasn’t you he was mad at but you’d never done well with people when they were mad at you. You were engaged years ago to a man that was abusive towards you. Things had started off well like they always do but he became manipulative and he was quick to anger. You were constantly questioned and criticized. He kept you from seeing your friends, even some of your family. It took your friends coming through for you to get you out of the situation safely. Through lots of therapy and flinging yourself headfirst into your business you’ve come a long way but sometimes you had difficult moments.

It couldn’t be helped as your heart began to quicken and you felt heat come to your face from the embarrassment of being snapped at. Unsure what to do you poured yourself a glass of wine and sat down at your small dining table facing away from the bathroom.

You were trying to get yourself to not shut down in response to his change in mood but it was hard. He’s upset and clearly irritated with me already, he probably just wants to go home. Maybe you should just reschedule. Don’t cry, if you cry you’re gonna make it a whole Thing. Don’t cry. He’s not mad at you specifically and it’s not your fault.

In the torrent of your thoughts you didn’t hear the bathroom door open. Steve hadn’t spared you a glance or a word as he started unloading the groceries. Angrily placing a jar of pasta sauce onto your counter with a thud and muttering under his breath. You watched him timidly and took another sip of your wine.

He turned to you and took another swig of his beer.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that? What did I do?” He challenged.

Not wanting him to be upset with you, you devolved into old ways of over-explaining so you could justify your actions. Somewhere in the back of your mind, the rational part was telling you it’s not your fault he’s angry and you don’t owe an explanation but you were too far gone.

“I, I just, you didn’t do anything you just, um, you just looked upset. I don’t want to make it worse, I’m sorry. I was just looking at you, I didn’t mean to-”

You were cut off in the midst of your nervous rambling by the shrill ring of Steve’s phone. A frustrated growl escaped his mouth.

“I have to take this,” he muttered as he strode back to the bathroom. “I told you not to call me until you had it fixed” you heard him before the closing of the door muffled his anger.

He left you there to stew in your nervousness and self loathing. Five minutes had gone by and the rational part of your brain was slowly taking over. The rational part of your brain was angry. It’s okay for him to have a bad day and not want to talk about it but the way he’s spoken to you and responded to you isn’t warranted. You needed to confront him calmly and if he was still angry you needed to ask him to leave. You can talk to him another time but not while he’s angry. It won’t do anyone any good. Just like you’ve talked about in therapy.

You rehearsed the lines in your head and finished your glass. You heard the door open again and almost threw everything you had been going over in your head out the window. Just breathe. It’s fine, he calmed down so quickly after that time in the alley, he’ll understand.

_____

Steve was angry. With Clint for getting the dates of Pierce’s arrival wrong, with Sam for failing to get the recon they needed to get the drop on him. Even angrier with Bucky for taking all of this out on him when it wasn’t even his fault. But most of all he was angry with himself for letting his work get in the way of your time together. He promised you undivided attention and you deserved it.

He knew how important your day off was to you and after the day he’d been having he couldn’t wait to just come back to you. He just wanted to make some decent spaghetti and melt the worries of his day off with your embrace. He craved the physical comfort he got from you after a long day. The feeling of endlessly sinking into your arms while you held him in bed allowed him to be the vulnerable one for once. He never felt comfortable enough with any of the other women he’d dated to even entertain the idea of being the little spoon.

He always suspected that who he was at work was almost the only reason any of the other women had even gone out with him. Who he was at work was almost a front for the art-loving, touch-starved, hopeless-romantic that he was when he let himself relax. They’d all just wanted this big burly man who was always in charge, a walking wall of muscle and testosterone that they had seen and heard of him to be when he was on the job. But when he was on his own time he just wanted to feel comfort more than anything.

He just wanted to melt into you.

That’s why he was eager to get to you today but the constant calls were cutting him to his last nerve. Bucky was out with Natasha and her parents so he specifically asked not to be called. Being the boss, Bucky was not to be bothered. Being second in command, Steve was.

When he hung up with Clint he exited the bathroom and walked straight past you without a word, knowing you didn’t want to hear about work and talking about it would just make him angrier. He started unloading the grocery bag with maybe a bit more vigor than was necessary.

Remembering he had opened a beer that was probably warm by now he turned to you and grabbed it off the table you were sat at. At this moment he looked up and you had this look on your face he couldn’t quite place. He wanted to know what was up so he asked but you just ended up stammering out a response that didn’t make much sense.

He was trying to listen to you, he really was but he just couldn’t work around this building anger, couldn’t let it go. So of course his phone rings again. And of course he takes it. Excusing himself and locking the bathroom door behind him again he was already forming how to lay into his men on the other line without raising his voice and alarming you too much.

“I told you not to call me unless you had it fixed” he seethed into the receiver. Steve pounded his fist against the porcelain of your sink in aggravation. “I’m not fucking coming down there tonight. I shouldn’t have to be taking fucking phone calls to solve this kinda shit when I’m with my girl. Lose their tail, re-track them, and we’ll deal with the rest in the morning. Don’t call me again unless someone fucking gets shot”, Steve hung up abruptly and took a deep breath.

He wasn’t even sure what he was going to say to you so he just waited a minute to collect himself. He took another deep breath and readied himself to go back to you.

_________

You were sitting quietly at the table, silently digging your nails into your palm as you tensed your fist. Steve had exited the bathroom and taken a seat across from you. You decided to see if he’d speak first and waited.

A beat of silence and you sighed deeply, readying yourself to talk to him like you’d planned.

“Steve, I understand you’re having a bad day and it’s probably work related. That being said, just because you’re mad at someone else doesn’t mean you get to take it out on me” You blew out a shaky breath, wanting to finish before you lost your nerve and before he interjected. You didn’t dare make eye contact. Only stared at his hands on the table in front of you.

“If- if you’re mad don’t take it out on me, and if you feel like you can’t control that anger I don’t want you around me while you feel that way. If you want to talk through it or just work past it then I’m here. But if you’re going to snap at me again and just be mad then you need to leave. It’s not fair to me.”

I’m pretty sure Dr. Danforth would be fucking proud of me right now. Straight to the point but respectful, just like we talked about. And even if Steve’s mad, you’re in control. You’re doing great.

You braved a peek at his face at this point and he looked stunned himself. He’s probably never been spoken to like that in his life, being the second in command and all. You watched his brows bunch together in what you hoped was thought and not frustration for you and waited for him to speak.

________

Oh. Steve was a little struck by what you’d said. Have I been that bad? She’s shaking like a leaf, of course I must have been that bad. He’d had no idea that he even snapped at you, that’s how wrapped up in his own business and his head he was. He never meant to take it out on you, didn’t even realize he had. Sometimes it was like he was so deep into his work life he couldn’t take himself out of it. But he wanted to try, for you.

He remained silent while he pulled the chair across from you out and took a seat. He looked up to meet your gaze only to find you staring at your hands. You were digging your nails into your palms so he brought one large warm hand to cover yours and brought the other up to your face gently to get you to look at him. You flinched away from him and he felt another strike of surprise, but also maybe a hint of shame. Is she afraid of me? Normally Steve likes when people are afraid of him, makes his job easier, but he’d never want that from you.

“Sweetheart”, Steve’s voice was just above a whisper when you finally looked up at him.

“I’m… sorry, that’s really it I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I didn’t even realize I did.” He apologized.

____________

You could feel your tears subsiding and finally brought yourself to look at him. He looked just as exhausted before, just a little bit more sad. You imagined it was probably easy for him to get swept up in who he was at work so it must be hard to separate himself from it since it requires so much from him. You don’t want him to feel bad for being upset, you just want him to be more aware of himself and to not take things out on you.

“Steve, I know we said you wouldn’t talk about work when we’re together but I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me if you have a bad day. Maybe you can keep it vague but I don’t want you to feel like you can’t say anything or be yourself, unless of course you don’t want to, I don’t want to force you to talk about anything either. When you snapped at me I just sorta shut down” You explained.

Steve seemed to be processing your words and forming a response when he took your hand in his to stop your nails from ripping into your palms like they often do. He nodded and took a breath.

“You have no idea how much it means to hear that from you, thank you. Just for the record, I never feel like I can’t be myself with you, it’s opposite, really. When I’m with you I get to drop all that bullshit at the door. Girls in the past have just wanted me because I was scary but seeing the way you flinched just now, I don’t ever want you to feel scared of me.” Steve confessed.

Maybe it’s time to tell him about the engagement, let him know where you’re coming from. You blew out a shaky breath and looked away from him again.

“I, um, I’m not scared of you. Years ago I was engaged to a man and things were really bad, he was really bad. I’m not ready to talk about all of it but that’s why I shut down on you when you snapped. I’ve been through a lot of therapy and I’m still working on it, but I’m not afraid of you. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, it’s… kind of a sore subject” you admitted.

Steve’s nostrils flared and his grip on your hand tightened a little but you could tell he was trying everything he could to school his features and reply to you.

“I… didn’t know that I’m sorry.” he said as he ran his thumb over your knuckles. “If you ever wanna talk about it more, I’m here. And if you don’t, I understand.”

You stood from your chair and came around behind him to throw your arms around his neck. You kissed his cheek and rested your head against his.

“Thank you for listening and apologizing. I forgive you. And if you wanna talk about your day then I’m here.” You assured him.

Steve turned his head to capture your lips in a soft kiss which you reciprocated. Steve stood to his full height without breaking the kiss and brought his hands up to frame your face. The warmth was comforting again to you. Your tongue slipped into his mouth and he elicited the softest of sighs before returning your passion.

He broke the kiss while his hands explored your curves. “I want to make it up to you, will you let me do that, sweetheart?” he asked.

You could only look up at him with eyes blown wide with lust and affection. You nodded and he kissed you swiftly before leading you to your bedroom. You were holding his hand when he let go and softly urged you backwards onto the bed. You obliged and soon he was on top of you laying feather-light kisses to the column of your neck.

Your hands mussed his hair and smoothed out the tension in his shoulders as you held onto him. He kissed his way lower and lifted up the hem of our shirt and kissed his way back up to your breasts. You sat up slightly and took off your top and unhooked your bra, letting it fall before throwing it to the side. Steve took turns taking your nipples between his teeth and teasing them, licking and kissing them. He knew it always made you squirm and would build the anticipation before you could even touch him.

“Steve, please.” You whined.

Wordlessly he kissed and bit his way lower and undid your shorts. You arched your back to help him remove them along with your panties. Steve wasted no time and administered the smallest of licks to your clit. You gasped slightly at the feeling when you felt two fingers prodding your entrance before going in. Your body was getting accustomed to the initial wave of pleasure brought on by Steve’s movement and slowly you ground your hips against his hand and cried out softly.

Normally Steve would never let that fly, he was always so controlling and dominant in bed but tonight was different. Tonight was soft and he was making it up to you, showing his love in a physical way. So he let you push him deeper and raise your hips just so to reach the perfect angle. You felt yourself tighten around him and this is the point he usually slows down just to drag things out but your loud cries only fueled him as he doubled his efforts. With a final cry you came around his fingers, white heat blinding your vision momentarily.

You caught your breath and looked down at Steve. His beard was absolutely drenched and he sucked his fingers clean. You could almost cum again just from the sight of it. He wiped his mouth on a tissue before returning to you to give you a kiss. You tasted yourself on him but you didn’t care, you just wanted his mouth on yours. You felt his erection pressing against your thighs and it had you squirming all over again. You reached to undo his belt when he stopped you.

“This night is supposed to be about you, doll. I’ll be fine” He protested.

You shook your head at him. “I want you, all of you. Please, Steve”, you begged.

He nodded and undid his belt. You helped undress and when he was finally naked you felt the rush of heat to your core all over again, an itch you couldn’t scratch. You laid back further on the bed and soon he was above you, face inches from yours and one arm at the side of your head.

His cock nudged against your core and entered slowly to stretch you out. You moaned deeply and when he was all the way in he kissed you passionately and began moving. It didn’t take much for him to pick up the pace as he started to fuck you. He swore under his breath at the feeling of you.

“You’re so, so, good sweetheart. So fuckin’ good.” He praised.

His words made you keen as you let the feeling of him making love to you take you over completely. His lips grazed yours in between grunts and he moved one hand to your clit while the other cradled the back of your head. You held onto his shoulders tightly and sobbed out pleas for him to keep going. His thrusts picked up speed and so did his hand. You were so close to the edge and you could feel he was too.

“I love you” he panted out before his hips lunged forward into you one last time before he came inside of you.

The shock of his confession and his work on your clit triggered your second orgasm. It was powerful and had you clawing his back and gasping in pleasure. He’d never said that before. Did he mean it? You looked to him for the answer but his lips caught yours as he gave a few last lazy thrusts. He finally collapsed to your side and was heaving to catch his breath.

You both laid there basking in the afterglow of the makeup sex for a few minutes. You turned on your side to look at him. He was so perfect like this, so at ease.

“Did you.. Mean it? What you said?” You questioned nervously. You really wanted him to mean it.

He turned slowly to look at you and he was blushing. “Yeah, I did. I know it’s kind of soon and you don’t have to say it back, but I couldn’t help it. I love you” he confided.

“I love you too, I’m not just saying it cause I feel like I have to, I love you Steve Rogers. All of you.” you assured him.

The softest of kisses was laid on your lips. This moment with him was perfect.

“I can’t believe you love me. I’m so sorry about earlier. I feel so comforted when I’m with you, the last thing I want is to lose you. I promise I will do everything I can to never be like your ex. Ever. If I’m being a dick I want you to tell me,” He apologized again.

You were about to respond when his stomach let out the loudest groan. You both laughed as you sat up.

“I did promise you dinner. Unburned this time!” Steve pledged as he helped you gather up your clothes.

“That’s a promise I’m going to hold you to, Rogers.”

#steve rogers x reader #mob!steve rogers #mafia!steve rogers #Mob!Au #mafia!au #soft!Mob!Steve Rogers #marvel au #marvel fic #marvel x reader #botanical interest

[artxyra]

The Story Of How Marinette Became Mamie Mars

Marinette had been in the Bahamas enjoying her vacation when she received the phone call. It was Bruce. Upon hearing her son’s, in everything but blood, voice, she had sat up on her lounge chair and swing her legs to the side. 

Bruce couldn’t speak coherently. That’s how much he had worried her. It’s not often that she would get a call from a panicking Bruce, especially on her vacation. 

“Brucie, honey, calm down and speak clearly.” Her voice was sweet enough to calm her son down. “Is Alfred nearby you?” She asks, knowing that her son’s surrogate father would be close. Then again, Alfred was scheduled for his vacation soon. 

“No, he’s tending the reason why I’m calling you. I may or may not have taken in a ward.” Bruce tells her, sounding off. 

The words slowly register in her mind. 

“I have a grandchild.” She squeals, so glad that she was sitting down instead of standing up. It’s already embarrassing that her squeal reached the others at the beach. Had she been standing, she would be dancing along with the squeal had she been standing up. “Oh Bruce, tell me about them? How are they adjusting?” 

“That’s the problem, mom! I have no clue what to do. Can you come home? I rather explain all this to you in person rather than on the phone.” She can sense the longing and desperation in his voice. It warms her heart that he still needs her. 

“Of course, I’ll be on the next flight out of here. Is there anything else that you want to talk about?” 

Bruce murmurs a yes. And they go into a discussion more about business rather than the newest Wayne addition.  

As Marinette books a plane ticket for the last flight of the night, she couldn’t help but think about her son’s ward. Never have Bruce expressed any thought about having children due to him being Batman. Though, she herself has thought about taking in another child. However, Marinette’s ability to have her body age slowly has been a blessing and a curse and keeps her from going through with it. It’s a blessing because she has a chance to look younger and experience more but it’s a curse as it means that she’ll live longer and see the people she cares about dying before her. 

Nearly six hours after booking her flight, she is on a three-hour flight to New Jersey. Her vacation ended the second her butt touched the seat of the plane. It was a lovely time off from everything in Gotham, her ever-growing business dubbed Miracles Designs & Crafts, and her duties as the guardian of the Miraculous, but family always comes first. 

“Alfred! It’s so good to see you again.” Marinette wraps her arms around the man. He returns the hug. 

“I as well, Miss Marinette.” He responds once the embrace ends, taking her bags and loading them into the car. Marinette pouts; she could have done it herself, but she doesn’t say a word. 

The drive was sweet as the two begins to catch up. Alfred enjoyed hearing about her adventures outside of the United States. Though, he fears what Bruce will say about her travel to Tibet. 

“So, tell me Alfred, what are your thoughts on our son’s ward?” She inquires, looking out the window. The sky never changes in Gotham, but it certainly is a vast difference from the sunshine and clear skies that she was experiencing in the Bahamas. 

“He’s determined.” Alfred states with a glance at her in the rear window. Marinette nods and continues to look out the window. 

Meeting her grandchild could have gone many ways, but him winging on the chandelier was not something she was expecting. He seemed to be mourning, like him swinging on the chandelier was holding him together. 

Bruce sends the boy a quick word then escorts her to the living room. The second the door closes, Bruce breaks down what happened. The boy’s name is Richard Grayson, but he likes to go by Dick. Of course, Marinette gasps upon hearing that, as she has never been around a person who calls themselves Dick. And that he was a part of the circus with his family until their demise. Dick has no family outside of the circus. There was also a chance that he’ll be the target for a mob boss. 

After hearing the basics of Dick’s situation, all she wanted to do was hug the boy and give him lots of love. The same as she has done for Bruce. 

“When can I officially meet my grandson?” She questions with a smile on his face. Bruce rubs the back of his neck and sends her a sheepish smile. Wrapping his arms around his surrogate mother, he guides her towards the double doors. 

“Hi, I’m Marinette, but you can call me Mamie, if you want.”

Dick looks up at her, swaying in place, “Mamie?”

Marinette chuckles. “It’s one of the French versions of saying grandma.” 

“Cool, but you don’t look like you’re old enough to be a grandma.” Behind them, Bruce fails at holding in a chuckle. Marinette purses her lip and keeps her eyes on Dick, even though she wanted to send her son a glare. 

“Yeah, I do, but don’t be fooled. I practically raised Bruce since he was eight. Now, what do you like to do for fun?” She nudges him to talk about himself, hoping that it will help from sending him down a mourning spiral. 

Bruce disappears after that, hunting down the person that sabotaged the tightrope and giving Dick his closure. 

Once Dick is asleep, Marinette finds herself in the cave, watching her son’s nonstop researching process. 

“You know spending time with Dick would really make him feel welcome.” Marinette pulls up a seat and sits beside him. 

“I can’t.  Zucco is out there, and if I can’t find him before he leaves Gotham…” Bruce trails off, turning his attention back to the screen. 

Marinette shakes her head, “At least try and get to know Dick before you do something stupid. There’s only so much that I can do, but I wasn’t the one that took him in, Bruce.” Marinette turns to Alfred and gestures her head towards Bruce. 

“I saw that, mom.” Marinette scoffs then gets out of her seat. “I promise that I’ll hang out with Dick before all this is over.” 

“And somehow, that doesn’t make me feel that much better. He’s your problem now, Alfie.” Marinette takes her to leave, grabbing a cup of tea from Alfred before leaving the Batcave.  

“Joy.” Alfred sighs, but there was an underlying hint of love there. 

Life with Dick in the household was an interesting transition, especially for Marinette. Usually, when she's here, it’s silent, as Bruce is either working as Batman or being for Wayne Enterprise. The only sounds were her and Alfred talking during their afternoon tea sessions. With Dick, the manor is full of laughter and ambitious feet, running around; practically, Mimicking the sounds of the past. 

With Marinette in the house, Dick didn’t feel so alone. Even though he didn’t have it in him to call Bruce dad yet, he'd definitely called Marinette Mamie on more than one occasion. When it first happened, she cried. Poor Dick, he thought she was upset or something. That day, she took them out for ice cream and to the gymnasium. 

Marinette did not hide her disdain when Dick became Robin. There were a lot of baked goods in the kitchen from her stress baking. It got so bad that Alfred had to ban her from the kitchen. 

Of course, once she did become comfortable with the idea of Dick out crime-fighting, she places strict rules in place so that Dick wasn’t out late at night on a school day or dealing with highly classed villains. Marinette had her fair share of fighting crime as a child, and she did not want to place that down on Dick. 

On top of that, she refused to have Dick going out at night in underwear in the name of pants. That was a big no-no in this household. 

Bonus: 

“Mamie Mars, has there ever been a time you benched Bruce?” Dick asks one day while Marinette was helping him with his homework. 

Marinette thinks for a moment. “Yes, it was within his first year of being Batman, actually. He challenged me and you know how I am when challenge, Dickie. Gotham was without their hero, excuse me, vigilante for about a month. Ladybird sure had a fun time in his stead.” She chuckles at the memory, causing Dick’s eyes to widen. He quickly finishes the rest of his homework.

-----------

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#maribat #mominette #grandmother marinette #ml x dc #mlb x dc #artxyra's fics #artxyra one-shots

[aliensunflower-fics]

Marinette Changes Schools: A funny little Lila salt prompt

So, there are a lot of ‘Marinette changes schools’ au’s and I love a whole bunch of them don't get me wrong. BUT the one thing I haven’t seen yet is Marinette changing schools not because of Lila or salt but simply because her parents are moving and they want her to attend a school close to home. So without further ado let me sell you on my little idea: 

Lila has been plotting weeks worth of plans and lies, she’s thought up some sob stories about being stalked, about near death experiences, about celebrities that are like her family. She has plans for Marinette all the ways she could make the girl look bad and all the ways she could force Adrien to see her. That all goes out the window one day when she gets to school and it's a sob fest. There is a clear air of dread and dismay, the blue skies she saw on the way to school replaced with heavy storm clouds. And when she gets to class it's worse. Marinette and Alya are hugging and crying, Adrien looks like he's been shot, Nino and Kim are demanding to know ‘why’ even Chloe looks upset, her blue eyes a little glassy. Lila quickly learns why, Marinette’s parents' business is doing GREAT so great in fact that they have decided to open a second location! The twist? They also decided to move INTO the new location and with it being on the other side of Paris and her parents fears for their daughters safety that means Marinette is moving to a new school!

Now Lila doesn’t even have to school her face into a practiced expression of shock. She genuinely is shocked here she’d been planning months in advance picturing the ways she would destroy her rivals life and steal her friends! And now just like that Marinette is MOVING? Of course Lila quickly decides this is a good thing! After all if Marinette is out of the picture ruling the school will be that much easier. Sure Chloe might be queen bee but with Marinette gone people will be looking to replace her! In walks Lila Rossi, a gorgeous upstart model with a heart of gold and connections coming out of her bangs! She’d rule the school and Adrien would fall for her, then Marinette would probably come crawling back desperate for her old friends only to learn she’d snatched them all up! It was brilliant! And with Marinette gone she could probably do it in record time! So Lila covers up her smirk and says she’s devastated to hear that the twin tailed girl would be leaving and begins plotting.

In the month that follows Lila leaves Marinette alone letting her have her friends for what would be for the last time. After all if everyone still loved the designer when she left they’d be all the more eager to replace her with a new and better version. Of course just because Lila is playing nice doesn’t mean she enjoys it. Alya is practically glued to the girl and ignores Lila even when she’s not trying to sabotage Marinette. Adrien is acting like his life is ending and all anyone will talk about is Marinette. When she checks social media it's all just pictures of ‘old-great times with Marinette’ or new photos and videos of helping the girl pack up and move into her new room, which Lila seethes about for a week when she sees the photos of the spacious luxurious room with a private bath. Apparently the Dupain-Cheng’s new bakery was in a pretty ritzy rich neighborhood. During school Marinette is mobbed by a constant stream of people begging her to stay and when they accept that not happening they all at least beg her to ‘come back and visit’ Marinette promises and Lila has to hide her snort. Fat chance of that actually happening. 

Finally the last day arrives and Lila has to hold back the urge to gag as everyone fills the nearby park giving Marinette gifts and heartfelt goodbyes. Adrien is the last one to offer his gift and Lila seethes as Marinette gingerly opens the box with a gasp and pulls out two brand new pink hair ribbons, and Adrien goes on to say that they’re made of imported silk! SILK, as if the little baker brat deserved silk! The whole exchange is cliche and romantic as Marinette removes her current hair ribbons to tie in the new ones and Adrien ties the old ones around his wrist like some idiot who doesn’t realize what a love struck longing look he's giving his ‘good friend’. But Lila just keeps reminding herself its just a bit longer and sure enough not long after the hideously gooey exchange between Adrien and Marinette is over the designer is leaving with more tears and farewells. FINALLY Lila thinks she can get back to what matters! Ruling her empire.

As it turns out ruling her empire is not what she thinks. For the first month after Marinette leaves all anyone will talk about is the photos she’s posted online. The first week its ALL about HER new school is a private well known academy with uniforms, and isn't Marinette cute in it? And look at her in her custom black kitty thigh highs? Lila wants to scream, but not as much as when she catches Adrien drooling over the photo of said thigh highs and twirling the old nasty hair ribbons around his wrist. The second week its all about the video tour of her new home and school that Marinette sent Alya. Lila glares the whole time as Alya puts the video on the projector at lunch so everyone can see the big new gorgeous bakery and the beautiful house on the second floor and her stupid big bedroom that should belong to someone like herself and not some bratty bakers daughter! By the third week Lila has had enough and fakes some nasty texts from Marinette hoping to speed up the process of helping her classmates move on to HERSELF. It backfires spectacularly with Alya going on the warpath to learn who would dare frame Marinette now that she’s gone. Lila is starting to realize that somehow Marinette has reached a higher level of popularity now that she’s gone. But she reminds herself it won't last forever that in ‘just a little bit longer’ everyone will forget the baker. Right?

A little bit longer. Never happens. Lila asks the girls to hang out that weekend with plans of winning them over with some juicy celeb story? Alya says they all already made plans to hope aboard the train to spend the whole weekend at Marinette’s new place! Lila tries to corner Adrien into a date after a photo shoot. He disappears and all she hears from the workers on set is that he's been looking up some new bakery on the other side of town. [Marinette is suddenly being visited by Chat Noir every other night but she figures she must have moved closer to where his civilian self lives if hes dropping by so much.] She tries to throw a party for the class? They can't. Marinette will be coming out to the park today! With her new school friends!

AH HA! Lila see’s opportunity and decides to tag along. After all if Marinette has new friends Lila can twist it! She’ll whisper about her replacing them all! Make them hate Marinette’s new friends! Fill them with jealousy till they hate Marinette! It's BRILLIANT! And, it fails in less than two minutes, with Alya learning about Aurore being a ballet dancer and the two girls bonding over their mutual love of DANCE?? How the heck was Lila supposed to know Alya had been a champion ballet dancer in her younger years! Then Nino is bonding with some kid named Allen or whatever about classical vs modern music and how to blend the two! And some kid named Claude is joking with Kim, Max, and Alix! And this is definitely not how things were supposed to go!

The worst part is Adrien, who is passive aggressively fighting for Marinette against Kagami AND Felix who are both all too eager to show how ‘close’ they’ve gotten to the baker's daughter while Adrien’s been across the city. Kagami is all to happy to show off that she ALSO bought Marinette some new silk hair ribbons [in a red shade that happens to match her fencing uniform] while Felix eagerly wisks Marinette away the moment Kagami and Adrien are distracted the two fencers find him openly flirting with an oblivious Marinette her hair down because ‘oh felix was nice enough to help me get some leaves out of my hair and said i should leave it like this!’ [while both Kagami and Adrien agree she looks beyond cute they know this means war.] Needless to say Lila didn’t realize that Marinette was that damn popular with men and woman.

The week after the meet up Lila is worn so thin she’s ready to snap. Not only did the class not get jealous but they actually became FRIENDS with all of Marinette’s new buddies and were planning many more meet ups including a paintball war over the baker girl that saturday. Adrien had taken to openly mumbling to himself about changing schools and how he ‘cant believe’ his own flesh and blood would so openly flirt with HIS very good friend! And what was with Kagami showing off how easily she can pick up and carry Marinette? And why did she invite Marinette to watch their next tournament! He needed to train, what if he lost?? In front of Marinette?! And then she thought he was too weak to keep her safe like all good friends are supposed to do! Clearly Kagami was trying to replace him as Marinette’s very good friend! Poor Nino who was sitting next to the boy had actually volunteered to switch with Lila but she came up with a lie to avoid it, she’d had enough of hearing about Marinette from Alya and Juleka and the rest of the girls, she didn’t also need to hear it from Adrien! 

It all comes to a head that Saturday during the paintball tournament when Lila now at her wits end her plans out the window her schemes barely thought out hopes to find something ANYTHING to ruin Marinette’s day and reputation and everything. But Lila just so happens to get completely pelted with paintballs everytime she so much as moves and then later gets ignored when trying to wow Marinette’s new friends, and then gets called out by Felix and Kagami snaps and finally she snaps and SCREAMS and runs off and not even a dark little butterfly comes to help her ruin the perfect day. As it turns out Hawkmoth was a little preoccupied with trying to save his business after all the computers and data involved in his precise scheduling were mysteriously corrupted suddenly freeing up his son's time and schedule so he could spend more with HIS very good friend and no one else's. Kagami and Felix apparently had the same idea as when he gets to her new house their already their doing their best to get on her parents good side.

Basically just give me some comedic, fluffy, Lila salty, Marinette changes school fics. Because I love them ok.

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#lila salt #ml salt prompt #lila salt prompt #adrinette #alya sugar #marichat #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #miraculous salt #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #protective Adrien #my fic #kagaminette #felinette

[quinncupine]

Obscured Chapter Twelve: DON’T PANIC

Chapter Word Count: 5,717

Relationship: Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Previous Chapter: Eleven

Next Chapter: Thirteen

MASTERLIST

Warnings: Blood, injuries, drugs, panic attacks, violence

Notes: I know it’s been months since I posted any stories or updated this one, but I promise I haven’t abandoned it! Life has been insane right now but I finally found time to write this chapter so yay! Anyway hope you enjoy it!

A waiter offered Izuku a glass of fizzling champagne and with the many eyes on him, he accepted it with a polite smile. They were in the ballroom for less than five minutes before he was overcrowded by all sorts of heroes. Some stopped by to greet him while others simply wanted to talk to him because it was a chance to talk to the Number One hero. Then there were the few that wanted to know whether the gossip the news had been spewing was true or not. To put it lightly, it was annoying.

He tried his best to keep that painted smile on his face, but with each new question, it was becoming increasingly more difficult. Socializing was the furthest thing he wanted to be doing right now, but it was a necessary pain. It seemed Izuku's brain, something that was usually so quick to formulate a plan of escape, was failing him as he half-listened to the growing din of chatter directed at him.

"Deku!" A familiar voice called above the rest and he whipped his head around to see Ochaco's hand waving at him through the wall of people. "Hey Deku!" She poked her head above the sea of heroes and beckoned him over.

"Excuse me," he used the opportunity to escape the mob and slipped free.

Ochaco was waiting on the other side and grabbed his shoulder to lead him away. "There you are," she patted his shoulder with the first genuine smile Izuku had seen in here all night. "You arrived pretty late. The others are scattered for now, but you looked like you could use the assist back there."

"Thanks." Using the chance to breathe, he gave her a grateful smile. "Have you seen Momo? Is everything set?"

"Yeah, she and Shoto double, uh, triple checked." Then she hesitated. "Um, I know you trust Hatsume, but we were on a pretty heavy time crunch and sometimes her work can be a little…"

"Explosive?" Izuku supplied with a nod. "She's an expert and she knows how important this is. I trust her work."

The minute Shoto pulled up to the building, Izuku already had the car door open, trying to slip out on his own. You hopped out and rushed to his side of the car to help. There was a painful grimace spread across his face and he nearly reeled back when you came face to face with him.

"Let me help you," you grabbed his arm and helped him stand. "I don't know why you insisted on coming, you shouldn't even be out of the hospital yet."

"I'm fine," he mumbled, staring at the ground once he was out of the car, taking in a shuddered breath.

"You're not," you hissed quietly as Momo and Shoto got out. "You are the furthest thing from fine so stop giving me that bullshit."

"I have another healing session tonight. I'll be fine." He corrected, gently brushing you off so he could walk himself.

Always another excuse. He could never tell when it was time to concede or maybe he could and just refused. Either way, the possible consequences of that notion were nothing but grim.

As he continued forward, you stood back, staring at him. This wasn't like Izuku. He was acting so cold and deep down you knew it was just him trying to cope with what happened, but that didn't make the sting any less harsh. It also didn't help that that dead look still swirling in his eyes resembled too much at that demon version that still invaded your dreams.

Momo touched your shoulder with a comforting smile as she ushered you forward. "You both still need time," she said quietly. "He's still processing. He only woke up this morning, it's a lot to take in in such a short time."

You knew that, you did. But no matter how much time passed what happened wouldn't change. That familiar dread that had been settled in your stomach for days was itching to come back. What if things wouldn't get better again. What if you couldn't move past this? What if it happened again? Too many what if's and not enough answers.

Lost in your thoughts, you missed walking into the workshop lobby only to be loudly interrupted by a metallic crash that vibrated the floor. The next thing you knew, you'd crashed back into Momo as your feet thought for you in an attempt to get away. She caught you before you could trip and pulled you upright.

"What was that?"

"Don't worry, it's just Hatsume." Just Hatsume. That's like saying it's just a tornado. "She likes to experiment," Momo explained wrapping an arm around your shoulder to head to the counter where the boys had stopped.

Izuku leaned against the counter, hand gripping the edge so hard you could see the veins popping out from his scarred skin. He was completely focused on the little door that lead back into the main workshop.

Shoto ran the bell but instead of the soft chime like you were expecting, it set off a giant bell on the wall that nearly startled you out of your shoes.

"Prospective customers?" The dirty pink-haired woman popped her goggled face out from the door. "Sorry, I'm closed for the night!" With that, she disappeared back into the workshop.

You'd met Hatsume once before and that was enough for you. It was a few years ago when Izuku had decided to upgrade his costume again and had asked you to come along for your opinion on the new style. She was just as eccentric then as she was now.

"Hatsume!" Izuku called after her, an obvious strain to his voice. He was in no mood for her antics today.

Her head popped back out with a curious grin. A layer of grime-covered her clothes and skin. What looked to be scorch marks on the edges of her hair contrasted the giant grin on her face. If she was going for crazy then she absolutely nailed it.

"Yes- oh! Didn't see you there Midoriya!" She wiped the soot from her goggles before lifting them into her singed hair. "Back for some more upgrades? My babies are far superior to anything my competitors have."

"Hatsume, we called earlier," Shoto explained with far more patience than Izuku seemed to be exhibiting. "It was an emergency request. Have you forgotten?"

She stepped into the lobby, cracking her neck as she scanned the room. "Oh, right, yes! I was just working on it now, but…" she turned to Momo," you! Yes, I need you. Come with me!"

Before Momo could say anything, she was yanked into the workshop, glancing back at Shoto before she disappeared through the door. Izuku took a shallow, forced breath, eyes roaming to you before he followed, leaving you with Shoto.

I think I'm just gonna wait here," you told him and slumped into the nearest chair. "You don't need me anyway."

Shoto stared at you for a moment, unsure of what to say. Words were never his strong suit. "Sometimes it's hard for people…for heroes to admit they need help. What you went through…well it was a lot of trauma. Dealing with it won't be easy, for either of you."

"Yeah, I get that but…" you sighed and threw your arms up. "He's gone through traumatic things before and I'm not trying to discount that because I know, I know, those affected him too but this…" Taking a deep breath, you wrung your hands. "This is different. It's- he's different. I've never seen him like this before and I'm worried that…well that he's-"

"He's still Izuku."

"Is he?" you dared to whisper to the empty room, afraid of even speaking those words. "How are you so sure that the drug isn't still affecting him. His personality, the way he looks at me now, it's not the same. You saw the way he's acting. What if he-"

"He's still Izuku." Shoto said with so much confidence it almost felt ridiculous to think otherwise. "Listen, take it from someone who knows trauma very well, Izuku is still there. He just needs help finding himself again. What happened scared him probably more than anything ever has. You're the one person he'd do anything for. You know how he is. When he loves something, he devotes himself entirely to it and to almost lose that by his own hand…that will take some serious convincing." He looked over at you. "But I'm not worried because you're here."

"I'm not a hero Shoto. I can't- I don't know how to fix this." You dropped your head into your hands.

"He doesn't need a hero, he just needs you and you, him."

Huffing, you peered through one of your hands up at him. "What did you get that bit of wisdom off a popsicle stick?"

"It's the middle of winter, why would I eat a popsicle?" He asked, cocking his head.

"Forget it," you leaned backward on your chair with a loud sigh, "but thanks. I'm just ready for this to be over."

There was another crash from inside the workshop. You grabbed the handles of your chair to stop yourself from leaping out of it, fingers squeezing so tight you were sure you popped a few of them.

"I can wait in the car with you if you want to step out." Shoto offered but you shook your head.

"No, I don't want to keep running away." Standing up you clenching your jaw. "I'm going in there. I want to ask Hatsume something."

"Where's Kacchan?" Izuku glanced around the large ballroom full of heroes. "I haven't seen him yet."

"Oh," Ochaco looked down at her feet, a slight blush on her face. "He's here somewhere. We…came together."

Izuku nodded, still looking around for the fiery blond. "Wait," he turned back to his friend, "you came together? Like together , together? As in…"

"Uh, I don't know," she laughed, rubbing her neck awkwardly. "I think-"

"Back off," a low voice growled over the humdrum and a wide arc of people separated to allow Bakugo through. "Damn extras," he muttered as he stomped over to Ochaco and Izuku. "Bout time you got here dumbass."

"Kacchan," Izuku greeted him, eyes darting between the two curiously.

"What are you gawking at?" He narrowed his eyes.

Before could say anything else, a voice called out. "There you are!" Momo waved as she walked over, arm entwined with Shoto's. "You all look wonderful." Her eyes lingered on Izuku a little longer, examining his all too pale face. "We're all set."

"Good," Izuku pulled his attention to Momo. "We know they can disguise themselves. See anything suspicious, use the comms. Pair up and spread out."

"There are five of us." Momo frowned a little, "We should at least stick to groups of two or three."

"All Might's here. I'll find him. We need eyes everywhere." Slightly hunched, Izuku's hand wandered halfway up to his chest before he caught himself and cleared his throat. "We have to be ready for an attack."

Momo opened her mouth to say something but then decided against it and nodded. They separated; Shoto with Momo, Bakugo with Ochaco, and that left Izuku to go find Yagi who he saw standing near the stage.

On his way there, a hand landed on his shoulder, halting his steps.

"Well if it isn't the great hero,  Deku," a younger man with stark white hair and even brighter eyes drawled with a lazy smile. "I heard what happened. Tough break man, but hey, at least it's keeping you in the spotlight…like always. " That last bit was muttered out, but Izuku still heard and he didn't like the implications behind it. "What do they say, any press is still good press, right?" He slapped Izuku's back, jolting his stitches and he held back a wince.

"Phantom," Izuku gritted out, struggling to keep his composure.

"Hey, we're all friends, right?" Phantom slung an arm around Izuku with a sly grin. "Call me Hirata."

Izuku didn't want to call him anything. He'd seen how the man worked and didn't like it one bit. His quirk was 'Transparence' and he was ruthless in the field, often leaving his opponents severely injured, most often unnecessarily so. Yet with his charismatic attitude that fooled the public, he was on a steady rise in the charts. Izuku wasn't fooled. He could see straight through his dripping charm and motives that were as transparent as his quirk. Not all heroes had the ethical mentality as they should. Ikari had been a prime example of that.

"So, how's the old ball and chain, eh?" Hirata grabbed a drink from a passing waiter and took a heavy swig of champagne. "Heard a few…uh interesting rumors on the grapevine." That annoying smirk never left his face as he tapped his chin. "What was it, oh yeah, something about…trains?"

Izuku had to remind himself where he was because his anger was growing heavier and heavier by the second. He wanted nothing more than to throw the man's clammy hands off him and be done with it, but he was trapped by various onlookers and stupid societal conventions. Then he finally registered exactly what Hirata had said.

"And  what  grapevine did you pick that from exactly?" He growled.

The younger hero shrugged, emptying his flute in one go, then flagged down another waiter. "You know, I don't quite remember." He glanced around and pulled Izuku close with a bruising grip. "I'm gonna give you some advice," he flashed his nearly neon white teeth, "the higher you climb, the harder the fall. A man in your position with a scandal like that, well," he shrugged, pointing up. "I would be careful how you climb."

Izuku tore Hirata's wrist off and held it so tight, he heard a pop. He was too angry to say anything but the message was clear. Hirata managed to slip free with a breathy chuckle and flexed his hand. "You know, strength won't always win." Raising a glass to Izuku, he winked. "Have a good evening Deku." With that, he seemed to vanish into the crowd.

He stood there simmering before he even had the thought to move. A few other heroes had stopped in front of him, trying to make idle chatter, but he just couldn't focus. Not with his mind still stuck on that sly bastard. Hirata had disappeared, which made things more difficult. He'd let a possible threat slip right through his hands and yet he did nothing. What was he thinking? He had to do something. He had to-

"There you are, my boy!" A thin hand rested on his shoulder and Izuku nearly jumped at the sudden action. "I'm sorry, but you if you don't mind, I'd like to steal him away for a moment," Yagi said to the heroes gathered in front of Izuku.

As he was whisked away into a corner, he blinked up at Yagi. "Sorry," he whispered.

"What are you apologizing for?" Yagi narrowed his eyes. "Are you alright? You look pale."

"I-" he froze, shaking his head clear. "Yeah, I'm fine. I ran into Phantom. I think he knows something, but I let him…I lost him."

"Phantom huh?" The retired hero glanced around the room wearily. "I'll let the others know." Then he looked back down at Izuku. "Hey, we're in this together, right?" When Izuku didn't answer right away, he grabbed his shoulders. "Right?"

"Yes," Izuku frowned at Yagi's hands.

"I know you Izuku," Yagi's grip tightened slightly. "I know you act recklessly and I know you shut others out when danger threatens them. But we're all in this together, okay? Together."

"I know," he whispered, not quite meeting his mentor's eyes.

Yagi didn't look convinced and leaned down to look into his eyes. Whatever he was going to say was cut short as a pleasant chime resounded throughout the ballroom, signaling dinner. Izuku took the opportunity to pull Yagi's hands off and head for the dining room that was held adjacent to this one. The giant curtain separating the two rooms parted and allowed the guests' access.

The two pulled back, eyes sharp as they scanned the faces of those who walked past. Yagi stayed near his pupil, not quite confident in Izuku's detached answers. Once most of the guests had found their seats, the two of them headed to the table Momo had made sure to pre-assign them. It held a perfect vantage point in the room so everyone was within their scope.

Dozens of waitstaff entered the room with carts of food. When a plate was set in front of Izuku, he took one look at what would usually be a delicious meal and closed his eyes for a second trying to regulate his breathing. He couldn't even think of stomaching anything tonight or else this meal might end up in (or on) a very unsavory place.

"Deku," Ochaco grabbed his arm and he opened his eyes to look up at her. "Are you alright?"

"Yes." It was an automatic response by now, but when he glanced back down at his food, he noticed a spot of red on his shirt, poking out just above the jacket. "Dammit." Standing up, he waved Ochaco away. "I'm going to the bathroom."

"Wait!" She hissed after him, but he was already halfway across the room, barely dodging waiters in his haste.

As soon as he busted through the double doors and into the thankfully empty hallway, he jogged to the bathroom, clutching his chest. Luckily no one was inside and after a quick check through the stalls, he locked the door and took a heavy breath over the sink. Everything felt like it was happening too quickly, too loudly, too- well everything.

Fingers clutched the counter so hard, cracks spiderwebbed across the marbled surface as he tried to catch his quickening breath. The world was coming in and out of focus and the unsettling thought that he'd been poisoned somehow sunk deep into his head. It sure felt like he was dying all over again. But catching sight of himself in the mirror, he realized just how much of a mess he was. Gelled hair was starting to break free, springing up in little curls. His face was pale and those bags under his eyes had settled into place. He looked just as shitty as he felt.

Shaky hands unbuttoned his jacket, feeling way too constrained in the soft material. He threw it away and stumbled into the wall, hands pulling at the red stains on his shirt. What the hell was happening to him? There was no way she could've poisoned him already? Was it in the wine? Then why was no one else affected? Or were they? He'd just ran out of there without thinking. What was wrong with him?

The door handle jiggled, startling him so much that he jerked back into the wall again, smacking his head. His head was too jumbled to think coherently enough to deal with whoever was on the other side of that door. Unfortunately, he didn't have much of a choice when the handle suddenly exploded and the door kicked in.

"What the hell are you doing?" Bakugo stormed into the bathroom, a ferocious look on his face. "why'd you run out like that dumbass!"

Izuku blinked, still pressed against the wall. "Kacchan."

Bakugo eyed him up and down, quietly crossing his arms. In a much calmer tone, he asked, "What's going on?" Though it seemed pretty clear to him exactly what was happening.

"Is everyone okay?" Izuku asked, still clutching his shirt. "No one's hurt?"

Bakugo narrowed his eyes. "Everyone's fine, but you running out like that is not. You need to get your shit together."

Izuku nodded, a bit of relief running through him as he slumped back into the wall.

"What happened?" Bakugo stepped closer, glancing at the jacket thrown haphazardly on the ground.

"I don't know," he confessed, squeezing the fabric in his hands. "Something's not right. I think I'm- I think I've been poisoned."

"It's not poison." Bakugo picked up the jacket and dusted it off. "It's panic."

"Panic?" Izuku finally looked up at him. "No, I can't. I have to be here. I have to save them. I have to save her. " His breaths came out in small pants. "I've done this for years. I've never broken down during a mission. Not like this."

"You've also never faced anything like what you did." He said softly. "You haven't even had proper time to process it all."

"That doesn't matter. I need to be better than this." Izuku screwed his eyes shut and slid down to the floor. "Everyone's depending on that. I can't be the reason that she's-" a shuddered breath, "-that they're in danger."

Bakugo stared at the broken hero before him. "I don't think you'll ever see it." He mumbled, staring down at the jacket in his hands. "that's probably my fault."

"What?" he asked, a hand clutching his hair.

A heavy sigh and Bakugo stepped in front of Izuku. "It pisses me off when you undervalue yourself like that. How am I supposed to have a proper rival when he's already facing off against himself?" He tossed the jacket onto Izuku's knees. "So get up. We have a villain to catch and I'm gonna need help." Bakugo extended his hand out to Izuku.

Izuku looked at the jacket before looking up to the smirking blond. "What…what if I-"

"What kind of talk is that?" Bakugo scoffed. "The hero I know never backs away from a challenge and he would never give up."

Hand still extended, Izuku stared at it, wide-eyed. "I'm not giving up."

"Well then, what are you waiting for?"

Gritting his teeth, he grabbed Bakugo's hand and pulled himself up. Once he was on his feet, he glanced at himself in the mirror. He still looked like a disaster and the red mess on his shirt seemed bigger now.

"You still bleedin'?" Bakugo asked, staring at the shirt.

"Yeah," Izuku mumbled, unbuttoning the wet shirt enough to see where the few stitches had torn. "It's not too bad. Y/N packed a kit…" he patted his jacket until he found the small box," here."

Setting the kit on the counter, he unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and set the jacket down. Bakugo grabbed the kit and went to work sanitizing the needle.

"Clean yourself up," he tossed the little bottle of saline wash to him and worked on threading the needle. "We need to get back soon."

Izuku gently cleaned the sensitive area, glancing up at Bakugo every few seconds. The blonde didn't say anything and motioned for Izuku to sit on the counter, which he did. With a quick skilled hand, Bakugo re-stitched the wound that ran across his chest. He was damn lucky the dagger didn't hit his heart. It had been close. Too close.

"Thanks…Kacchan." He whispered, staring at his fisted hand beside him.

Bakugo glanced up from his work as he tied off the last stitch. "Yeah, well I'm still pissed with you." He tugged the thread closed a little too harshly and dumped the needle back into the kit. "Running off by yourself like that was idiotic. We're supposed to stick together or have you forgotten what the enemy can do?"

"I don't think I can ever forget that." He met Bakugo's eyes and Bakugo sighed, crossing his arms.

"Come on," He packed the kit back into Izuku's jacket as Izuku buttoned up his shirt. "We still have a mission to complete." Then tossed the jacket over.

Nodding, Izuku slipped off the counter and buttoned his jacket up enough to cover the bloodstain. His chest still ached to hell, but it was manageable. He followed Bakugo out of the bathroom and into the empty hallway.

"Hey," Izuku said, idly messing with a button on his jacket. "I know you talked to Y/N."

Bakugo, hands stuffed in his pockets, raised a brow.

"Thank you." He looked at his friend. "I'm glad you were there when I couldn't be."

"Yeah well, what am I supposed to do when I'm surrounded by morons." He grumbled, looking away with a twitch in his eye. "Just don't be an idiot and shove everyone away. You always do that when things get dangerous. It's annoying."

Izuku's silence was louder than their echoing footsteps as they made their way back to the ballroom. His hand absentmindedly roamed to his chest before it was swatted away by Bakugo. "I swear if you tear those stitches one more time, I will kill you myself."

His hand instead went up to his hair to run his fingers through the gelled locks. He was way off his game tonight and doubts were starting to seep too deep. Had he made the wrong call in coming here? Would it have gone better if he had just stayed in the hospital and left it up to the others?

"You would've figured out a way to get here anyway," Bakugo said and Izuku's head popped up, startled. "Would you give the mumbling a rest already?"

Biting his tongue, he focused on the double doors ahead. The hall was completely void of anyone, which was good for him, but it did strike as slightly unusual. And it was silent. Even in the hall, he should've heard some sort of noise coming from the ballroom.

Bakugo grabbed one of the handles but Izuku snatched his arm. "Wait," he hissed, cocking his head. "Do you hear that?"

He stilled, perking his ears for any noise, then narrowed his eyes. "I don't hear anything." Letting go of the handle, he stared at the door. "Nothing."

"Exactly." Izuku looked both ways down the empty hall. "Something's off." Tapping his earpiece, he was met with static. "Shit."

"So, the real party's just started huh," a predatory smile stretched across his face as he grabbed the handles. "Bout fucking time. I've been waiting for some action all night."

"Kacchan, wait!" Izuku tried to pull the fiery hero away from the door, but Bakugo slammed through the doors only to be met with a silent room.

They both stood in the doorway, eyes wide. everyone was still here, either slumped over in their chairs or lying on the floor. No one seemed to have made it more than a few feet from their tables. Izuku scanned the room for any signs of danger. When he saw no immediate threat, he rushed over to the nearest person and checked for signs of life. Breathing, just…asleep?

"Kacchan," Izuku looked up at him.

Bakugo had stepped over to the table, eyes roaming, searching for anything subtle. The food on each of the plates had all been eaten at least a quarter. He poked the cheek of a sleeping hero slumped into his plate and the man groaned slightly. They weren't completely passed out but still incapacitated.

"The food," he determined, glaring at one of the plates. "Poison. Looks like some sort of tranquilizer." Then he looked around the room and yelled, "that was your big plan? Pathetic!"

Izuku pulled out his phone and dialed the chief's number. "Dammit," he stared down at the phone, clenching his jaw. "Signal's blocked. We need to find the officers stationed here." Then he noticed their table.

Momo's face was lying directly in her food and Izuku rushed over to gently lift her head up. "Momo, can you hear me?"

Her head lolled in his hands and no amount of shaking or patting her cheek would work. Bakugo knelt next to Ochaco and shook her shoulders roughly. They were out cold. A layer of frost coated the area where Shoto had been sitting. Izuku had carefully laid Momo back against the chair and knelt next to his friend who was sprawled on the ground.

Shoto must've realized something was wrong and had tried to act, but whatever kind of poison was affecting them, it had taken effect quickly. But for a substance to affect this many different types of heroes like this must have been strong. Although Ikari and Shizue had proven to be quite effective at producing strong drugs. But there was one more issue Izuku couldn't overlook. Yagi was missing from the table. He had sat next to him before Izuku had run out, but now he was nowhere to be found.

"It's pointless, they're out." Bakugo straightened up. "Clever. Must've gone to great lengths to smuggle themselves through the catering. You're pretty good with tech," he called out, "I'll give ya that. Not many people can sneak through these security systems. But you won't get through me, so come on out and I'll give you a proper greeting!"

"Very observant Ground Zero," an irritatingly familiar voice boomed over the speakers. "At least there's one hero here who isn't totally useless."

Izuku froze, still kneeling next to Shoto, glaring up at the echoing voice. "Ikari."

"Ah, and the useless hero returns." She said through the speakers. "I gotta say Deku, I am pretty surprised you managed to survive that, but pests do seem to always find a way."

"Stop hiding and fight me already you coward!" Bakugo slammed his fists together. "I've been dying for a rematch."

"Unfortunately, I'm not here for fighting tonight…" she trailed off as a few people started to stir around them. "But they are."

The overhead lights shut off, replaced by the dim glow of the red emergency lights. Heavy metal barriers dropped down over the windows and doors, locking the room down using the high-security systems built into the building. Sprinklers on the high ceiling dropped open but instead of water, a fine shimmery metallic dust rained out of them. It didn't take a genius to figure out what it was.

"Masks!" Izuku yelled, scrambling for the small one tucked away in his pocket.

Securing the thin device to his face, he turned to make sure Bakugo had done the same. It was too late to help the others as dust quickly drifted down like snow, blanketing everything, including all the heroes. He had managed to find Momo's mask tucked into a special pocket on her thigh, but the dust had settled on her face, painting her skin in a delicate blue. Dammit, half the plan was riding on Momo, they needed her awake.

He searched her other pocket where she'd stashed a vial. Before they arrived, she'd given each one of them an antidote for emergencies. Finding the small glass vial, he pulled it out the same time a knife popped out from a glowing spot on her shoulder. If not for his quick reflexes his hand would've been impaled.

Rolling to avoid the attack, he came up a few feet away, vial in hand. "I'm sorry Momo," he gripped the vial tightly. "I'll fix this."

Ice shot up his side, encasing his right arm and leg, along with the vial. Behind him, Shoto stood, eyes dark. Around them, other heroes shakily got to their feet, attention all on Izuku.

"Get your head in the game!" Bakugo launched a fiery punch to the ice, breaking Izuku free.

In another instance, a larger ice attack launched itself, and both men dodged in different directions. The other heroes took the cue to all attack at once. Izuku found himself back in his element as he ducked and blocked a host of attacks from his fellow heroes with the instincts that came from years of training.

With the harsh glow of red, it was hard to see every attack coming at him and even with his senses on full alert, something lashed his thigh, ripping through the skin. He grit his teeth and jumped back to gauge the situation.

Bakugo appeared next to him to block another attack. "We're sealed in and these stupid things aren't working!" He threw his trigger to the ground to take down a charging hero.

Izuku struck out in a wide arc with Blackwhip, clearing a way for them to run towards the stage. It would do no good to stay surrounded, they needed to get to a better position. Once they made it to the stage, Izuku pulled out his trigger but nothing happened when he pressed the button.

"She must've known what we'd done!" Izuku yelled to Bakugo. "We have to check the device. It might still work if we can get to it!"

"Go fix it then!" Bakugo grinned as he grabbed someone's face and slammed them into the ground. "I'll hold them off! Always wanted to fight all these wanna-be's!"

"That's too risky to fight alone!" Izuku dodged a fist and used the momentum to spin himself behind the hero and counterattack.

"You saying I can't!" He turned that vicious glare on him. "Someone has to fix that thing so hurry up! I can handle this!"

Izuku turned to look at all the heroes fighting each other. It wouldn't be long at all before someone was killed. That device was the only thing that could stop them all at once.

He balled his fists, narrowing his eyes. "Don't lose."

"Ha!" Bakugo laughed, kicking a hero away with such force they flew over the heads of the others, crashing halfway across the room. "As if! Now get going ya, dumb nerd!"

Izuku nodded and took one last look at the angry hoard he was leaving his friend with. He would fix this. He had to fix this. As quick as his quirk would let him, he launched himself over the crowd, towards the large double doors.

"Hold on!" you hurried through the doors of the cafeteria to follow Mr. Miwa. "Just wait a minute!" When you finally caught up to him, you blocked his path. "Calm down for a second."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have bothered you with this," he shook his head and wiped his face. "It's just that when I saw you, well, I thought she might've come looking for you since..." he sighed and turned around. "I have to find my daughter, she's all I have."

"Don't worry, I'm sure she won't be far." You set a hand on his shoulder. "I'll help you find her."

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#izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #pro hero deku #taken series #bnha #mha #deku #injuries #cursing #gala #hospital #blood #izuku midoriya #katsuki bakugou #momo yaoyozoru #todoroki shoto #ochaco uraraka #yagi toshinori

[mcyt-imagines]

hi! i’m like 80% sure requests are open but if they aren’t feel free to ignore this! i was wondering if i could get some fundy confessions? like a similar piece of writing to what you did with ranboo? which by the way was very good and your writing is super neat :]

I’m so glad you enjoyed the lil Ranboo confession hcs, I hope you enjoy these just as much! :)

Fundy Confession HCs 

Realising he likes you 

Fundy knows he’s crushing on you immediately. But he doesn’t understand how deeply he cares for you.

Fundy finds himself surprised when he doesn’t have to chase you, you actively pursue him as much as he pursues you.

Fundy usually doubts himself when he finds himself crushing on someone, unsure whether he should pursue them. But with you it’s different, your support makes him feel confident in his feelings.

Sometimes he feels as if he could never confess, scared he could ruin your friendship in case you don’t feel the same way. (Even though you very much do, he just thinks you deserve someone better too)

Fundy spends a lot of time contemplating his feelings for you, mostly in his head whilst the two of you are hanging out. He finds himself zoning out while you’re speaking, his eyes wandering between your vibrant eyes and your gesturing hands, landing somewhere in between, usually on your soft lips. However, if your back is turned to him, he will simply fixate on your hair, his hands desperately wishing to feel it. He knows that it's soft from the few times he’s fixed a stray lock of hair to a spot behind your ear. Basking in the pride he feels when your cheeks tint a soft pink, wondering whether it was real or just a cruel trick played by his imagination.

Fundy often finds himself thinking of you whilst streaming, he’s mentioned you a few times. Not enough to raise any questions about what your relationship with him is, just enough so his chat can try and appreciate you as much as he does when he allows his mind to wander mid-game.

Fundy finds himself slamming into an epiphany late one night when he realises that dating you isn’t about whether he thinks he deserves you but whether you do. And he hasn’t even given you the chance to answer, all this time he’s made the decision for you because he’s too scared of what your answer would be. He makes a promise to himself that night. That you deserve to make that decision yourself.

The Confession

Fundy knows that if he’s going to confess, he needs to make it extravagant and perfectly tailored to you.

This man plans out his confession to you for MONTHS, meticulously crafting props, making bookings, and trying his best to coordinate far away friends. Meanwhile, your friendship continues to strengthen with each night chatting until the both of you fall asleep in lone discord calls.

You know that Fundy has been busy with a project he refuses to tell you anything about, changing the subject with nervous stuttering whenever you bring it up.

You have let it keep you awake for a few nights before concluding that perhaps he finally managed to snag a partner and he was unsure how to tell you. So, the next time you meet up you make a note to drop some hints about knowing what his little project is. This freaks Fundy out instantly. How the hell did you figure it out? And you seem super okay with it? Was he wrong, do you actually feel the same way? Fundy’s head is spinning as you continue your casual conversation alone, “But don’t worry, I can wait. I only want you to tell me when you feel comfortable.” Your words snap Fundy out of his spiraling thoughts as your warm hand squeezes his knee and he forgets how to breathe.

Fundy spirals yet again that night after he gets home. You seemed okay with him liking you? But you didn’t confess either!? What does that even mean!? Fundy groans loudly before stuffing his pillow over his face, wishing that his love life could be easy.

He sets to work the next morning, finalizing all of his plans. When once again, he is struck by another epiphany. You wouldn’t want this. Some big extravagant show with the pressure of your mutual friends watching from the sidelines. You’d want something sweet and personal. That only you and he would understand, or even care about. He doesn’t bother cancelling the plans and bookings, instead of texting you to meet him at his place for dinner. If tonight works out the two of you can still experience the more extravagant side of his confession, but if this whole encounter goes sour it can go sour in private rather than public.

You arrive promptly, as you always do. Happy to spend time with him and perhaps seduce him you dress a little cuter than usual. Hoping he takes notice. He definitely does, and you can tell. The second he opens the door to reveal your frame he’s grinning, a light pink rests at the tips of his ears almost immediately. He is quick to greet you and lead you inside.

Fundy spent all afternoon regretting that he had sent that text to you. As he had to frantically run around the kitchen trying to come up with a meal to cook because there was absolutely no way, he was going to feed you takeout! Normally of course he wouldn’t have minded doing that, but not the day he plans to confess! That’d just be embarrassing. He spent a good thirty minutes deciding on the menu, thinking he’d do something Dutch to show off a little. And then he promptly realised that over half of the Dutch dishes he knew required no cooking but days of prep-work. Which took out a lot of what he knew how to cook.

So, by the time you arrived, he actually hadn’t finished cooking anything yet. And he was internally screaming as he heard your knock upon his door. So, to distract you he invited you into his room for some Minecraft. He repeatedly thanked his past self for furiously cleaning his room even though he originally had no plans for you to come in here.

As you play your eyes wander around Fundy’s room, allowing yourself to be distracted by his nerdy décor. “Creeper!” You scream as you’re brought back into reality as Fundy’s character jumps in between yours and the exploding mob. You gasp dramatically, “Fundy, my hero!” You pretend to swoon, grinning as he chuckles at your antics. “My shield is now practically broken.” He whines, “Take mine.” You drop it in front of him before moving your character back over to the iron ore you’d spotted in the cave earlier. He readjusts himself beside you, shimmying his shoulders as he mutters out a quick thanks. You lean against him softly, “No worries.”

It is at that inopportune moment that he remembers he had been cooking before you showed up. Thank god his oven had a safety feature to turn off after a certain amount of time. He ducks out for a few moments to quickly check on the mess of ingredients he’d chucked into a casserole to find it charred black. He repeatedly slams his head against his countertop as he began to enter both yours and his usual order of Chinese takeout into his phone. “You good with Chinese takeout?” He calls towards his room, wishing a hole in the ground would open and swallow him up pulling him straight down to the ninth circle of hell for his crimes against love. “Hell yeah, I am!” You respond with an enthusiasm that allows him to unclench his jaw and unfurrow his brows. God, you were definitely too good for him. Even as a friend.

Hours soar by with ease as the two of you play, trying your best to speedrun Minecraft and absolutely failing. Fundy does manage to make a nether portal pretty quickly using the lava pool strat. He allows himself to puff out his chest, pride swelling as you cheer him on with a grin. You don’t stop playing even when the takeout arrives continuing to communicate through mouthfuls of rice and complaints about trying to not get grease on your keyboards. Fundy cant remember that last time the two of you spent time like this just hanging out with no pressure from his stupid feelings and you absolutely glowing with joy beside him. He knows you need to do this more often.

“YES! FUNDY HIT HIM! AHH!” With one final blow, the dragon is slain and you finally beat Minecraft. You throw your arms around Fundy laughter bubbling from your lips, his arms grip you tightly pulling you close. His own laughter reverberates against his chest causing you to realise just how close he was holding you. You gulp down your rapidly growing nerves before looking up to meet his gaze, finding his face a lot closer to yours than you had expected. Fundy looks down at you as his cheeks burn a bright crimson and he tries to stutter out the words he’s been dying to tell you for the past six months.

And that’s when it hits you like a tonne of bricks. The bullshit he had been hiding this whole time wasn’t a partner, he wanted you to be his partner! Your mouth falls open in surprise for a few moments as Fundy continues to gape at you. “Holy shit Fundy.” That causes his gaze to snap to yours, eyebrows furrowed and lips in a firm line. “I thought you were hiding the fact you were with someone from me!” You laugh at your own absolute stupidity, hand coming to press high on Fundy’s chest. “Wait, what!?” The exasperated expression on his face only causes you to laugh harder, “Yeah, I thought that’s what you were being super cagey about. Sorry my bad, misjudged that one.”

Fundy finds himself chuckling too, his shoulders relaxing as he does so. “Yeah, a real good read love.” He laughs, your gaze rises at the pet name. “Real presumptuous of you Fundy, I haven’t even said if I feel the same yet.” Your teasing tone doesn’t even stop him as he pulls you even closer to him, pressing your body flush against his. “I think I can read you pretty well now. Not to mention you’ve been blushing this whole time.” He grins into your hair, squeezing you with an unbridled joy you find so contagious. Or perhaps you’re feeling that way because it turns out your crush isn’t actually dating someone else but instead likes you back? 

“B-but like, just checking you actually do really like me-“ Fundy begins, feeling his nerves inevitably creep up his spine. Before he can even finish you cup the back of his neck with your free hand, the other clenching his shirt as you kiss him with all the intensity you can muster. “That answer your q-.” You begin to respond against his lips only from him to silence you, which maybe you deserved. Fundy can’t help but smile into the kiss. Somehow things actually turned out alright. Squeezing your warm soft hips, he ponders who the hell is looking out for him upstairs. But as your hands tangle in his hair, he makes a silent promise to himself he’ll consider praying to them tomorrow.

~Requests are always open!~

#fundy #fundy mcyt #fundy x reader #x reader #mcyt #mcyt x reader #confession headcanons #mcyt headcanons

[gummy-friend]

Hi! First and foremost, I really like your writing! Second, maybe 4 with G! Techno and H! Tommy? Thanks :D

Hello!!! Thank you so much!!!! :DD

And terribly sorry for the very long delay— I lost my original thought and was being petty to myself. But thank you for the prompt! I appreciate it! :D

————

"I would never hurt you"

Giant Techno and Human Tommy

Content warning: Language, mentions of blood, mentions of killing.

———————

They say giants are vicious, they say giants are evil.

Well, to those people, Tommy will give them a middle finger. Because he met one. A giant.

His name is Techno, he's not evil nor vicious— In fact, Tommy will say that Techno is kind of a pussy. Techno absolutely refuses to go to the human villages, because "That'll be incredibly awkward", according to Techno. So he would just hunt for foods in the forest.

Tommy met Techno for quite a while now— after being exiled from his original village, he stumbled upon Techno's cabin, and got caught by Techno there.

It was not a fun time for Tommy, it took a while for Techno to let him go from a jar— he still don't know the reason why did Techno fucking lock him in a jar—before eventually releasing him to go off on his own. Techno made Tommy promise to not tell anyone about him, though, which Tommy agreed, and quickly ran away from the place.

But before long, Tommy came back to Techno. Tommy remembers, it was honestly an impulse decision of him.

It was nighttime when Techno let Tommy go. And it was nighttime when Tommy saw a mob of people from his village, holding pitchforks and torches, ready to go to where he was coming from. Techno's house.

Tommy smiled at the memory. Sure, he was exhausted trying to sprint as fast as he can, going towards Techno's cabin, trying to find Techno. It was a scary time for Tommy in the jar, sure, but not once did Techno tried to hurt Tommy, no matter how annoying Tommy was trying to be.

"HEEY!" Tommy shouted to the giant, who is in the middle of cooking food.

With a "Huh?", Techno turned around to meet a human he just released an hour ago, confused about his return.

"GIAN— TECHNO!" Tommy shouted again, panting between words "HUMANS!" He shouted, pointing towards the giant's door, trying to get his point across "HUMANS ARE HUNTING YOU—!"

Of course, Techno didn't believe the human. But still, he took precautions and peeked at the window, seeing torchlight and hearing hushed chatters and footsteps. A quick look at that, and Tommy saw Techno tremble— not because of fear, Tommy didn't sense any fear coming from the giant— while holding his head, pulling his long, pink hair. An unseen expression reflected in Techno's face before he once again trapped Tommy in a jar and ran away to their current location.

It has been two months since that incident, Tommy thinks. He still hasn't known much about Techno or his intention— like why did Techno brought Tommy with him when he ran away— but Tommy is currently living with Techno in a cave.

They say giants are evil, they say giants are vicious.

But Tommy hasn't felt like that ever since he moved in with Techno. It was a move with a lot of arguments, but after a quick explanation about how Tommy is afraid of villages after being exiled, Techno gave in and let Tommy stay with him.

"Techno!" Tommy called out to Techno, returning from his trip from the river— a basket full of fish on his back. "I'm home!"

Techno spared Tommy a glance from where he's standing— still focusing on cooking his food. "M-hm, give me the fish, I'll cook it" Techno nodded to himself, knowing Tommy is heading towards his direction.

With a "bitch, next time take the fish yourself" grumbled beneath his breath, Tommy gave the basket of fish to Techno— Who only gave a small scoff at the comment— and sat down not too near the fire.

"So." Tommy started, taking the plate of cooked fish from Techno. "Did you remember two months ago?" he continued, not yet eating his fish, instead staring at Techno.

The first week after moving in with Techno, Tommy asked Techno about his intention so many times— why did Techno take him with him, why did Techno avoid humans so much, especially since Tommy knew Techno is so skilled at fighting— and Techno always avoided the question. Without fail.

"Tommy." Techno sighed. Putting down his half-eaten plate of deer meat. "I told you not to talk about that"

"Why not?!— you fucking trapped me that one time, and you still haven't told me why" Tommy retaliated, But Techno ignored Tommy's protest, instead went back to avoiding the question by going to the cave entrance. Tommy took a bite out of his food before continuing "You're so fumkign skilled at fighting— I know! I saw you that one time when you were sword practicing—"

"Wait. Tommy." Techno's voice rang in a hushed tone— but Tommy was too focused in letting out his thoughts to realize it.

"— and then you have these times when you're so fucking creepy— chanting or some shit—"

"Tommy—"

"— and why the fuck do you live alone anyway? There's no way each giants live alon—"

"Tommy— shut up!—" Techno half-shouted, his voice being held back. Tommy only stared at Techno, the usually-calm giant raised his voice at him, and suddenly Tommy remembered the whispers about giants.

Giants are vicious, giants are evil

Those words reverberated in Tommy's head, and when he came to himself, he was trapped inside Techno's palm. Giant fingers wrapped around him a little too tight as he felt the vibrations of the ground shaking far below him and the sound of Techno panting. It reminded him on that night two months ago, when Techno trapped him in a jar, and those words reverberated inside Tommy's head

Giants are vicious, giants are evil

Are they really?

Minutes felt like hours to Tommy, and Techno finally stopped.

"Let- let me fucking go!" Tommy shouted from Techno's palm— much like when he shouted to be let go from a jar 2 months ago.

"Shh." Techno said. Voice low and halted. He's not even looking anywhere near Tommy's direction.

"No, fuck you— Let me fucking go—"

"Shut. up."

Giants are vicious. Giants are evil

No, no, no. Fuck no, Why does that thought has to come up now?

Tommy looked at Techno. Long, pink hair obscuring his face, a dark and heavy atmosphere covered both of them as the only voice Tommy can focus on is Techno's panting. His body now feels numb.

Just after Tommy felt like he's about to lose consciousness, he felt a sharp turn in his surroundings. The world turns into a blur as Tommy finds himself nauseous—

Before he felt a sharp pain on his head, knocking his consciousness out of him.

๑๑๑

It's loud.

The voices inside his head all screamed the same thing. All screamed the thick, red substance the flows throughout living beings body. The voices inside his head screamed for blood

But Techno doesn't want that. He's changed. He's changed and he have tried to prove that. Not hurting the human child that came over to his cabin two months ago, not killing the hoard of tiny humans hunting him right now, trying so hard not to just take one of the tiny being flailing a pitchfork around and just... squishing them for a tiny trickle of the glorious blood—

No.

For blood he already gave Chat animal blood. No human blood. He's changed. He's changed. He's no more the giant who drove his friend away, no longer the giant from the legend— having no mercy to humans. No.

But if he's changed then...

Why did he not protect the human he's sheltering...?

Tommy is a human that came across Techno two months ago. A human he trapped in fear of letting a hoard of human knowing where he lived. A human he used as a tool to remind hinself he's changed.

But overtime, the human had grown on him. Tommy is a... decent guy when you get to know him. Sure, he's loud, he's annoying, but he's... endearing. In some times Tommy talks to Techno about things he did at his previous village— how he saw a rabbit eating one of the villagers carrots, how he stole one of the villagers things, ....how he was exiled from his village...

It didn't broke Techno's heart, no. It was just.. sad. The kid had been exiled from his village and he ended up inside a jar in a giants house.

It was a day after that Techno let Tommy out of the jar— with a promise that the human won't tell anybody about his whereabouts, of course— while hoping the human will get somewhere to live.

To say Techno was surprised to see the human back in his house again, with a warning that a mob of humans going out for him was an understatement.

It was an impulse action from Techno to grab Tommy in a jar, really. But Techno saw the face of a horrified man and it reminded him of the faces of humans he'd killed— maybe, he can still save faces like these.

Maybe it's going to stay as a mere maybe afterall.

It's currently sunrise, Techno had found a cave hiding behind a waterfall— a secure place for him to hide— but Tommy have not yet to wake up. A small droplet of red stained his finger, but Chat seemed to not at all focusing on that — maybe a small part of Chat, really— but the majority of them are asking if Tommy is okay, if he's badly hurt or not. And with the constant ring inside his head, Techno can't help but feel very anxious about it.

The anxiousness was quickly dissipated, though. As Tommy let out a small groan and a small tremor in his figure, struggling to wake up.

"Tommy?" Techno whispered, finally relaxing his shoulder he didn't know were tense the whole time.

Tommy stood up— or at least tried to stand up— slowly, his arm trembling when a force is applied on it. But eventually, when Tommy managed to stand properly, he let out a shrilling screech at the sight of Techno.

"AAAH WHAT THE FUCK—" Tommy screeched, no longer standing up as he fell down into a sitting position. Trying to scoot away as far as possible from Techno— as far as the rock he's on lets him, at least.

A strange uneasiness tugged at Techno's heart. "T-Tommy...?" Techno repeated, slowly trying to reach out his hand to the small human— which the human respoded with an absolutely terrified look and a small shake. Techno stopped reaching out after that.

"H-How did you know my name?!" Tommy shouted out. The uneasiness tugs harder. "Where am I?!" He shouted again. and... "Who are you?!"

Techno felt like his heart is shattering. Tommy forgot about him. Each word feels like is hurting him.

"I..." Techno started, watching intently to Tommy's face full of fear and anticipation. "I'm Techno," He continued, very slowly in picking his words "and You're in a cave I found yesterday— after we escaped from a group of humans"

"Wait— why're humans hunting... us?" Tommy cuts off, "Did you— did you fucking kidnapped me?"

"No!" Techno said, refuting Tommy's accusation too quickly. But a small pause after his word made him realize that... he did initially kidnap Tommy. "...yes" Techno nodded, watching Tommy's expression pale. No— "The humans didn't hunt us because of that, though—"

"You... you kidnapped me." Tommy whispered, barely enough to be audible to Techno.

"Tommy— no—"

"YOU FUCKING KIDNAPPED ME, GIANT!" He shouted out, the pure emotion seething from him made him stand up. Techno's heart feels like it has been stabbed. "I— You—" Tommy took a step back, not registering how he's at the edge of the surface. Tommy let out a shriek as gravity pulled him down the fortunately not high surface.

Techno was about to reach out and help Tommy, but then he heard a quiet sob and saw the curled up form of Tommy.

"You... you kidnapped me.." Tommy said through his sobs. "What are you going to do to me now...?"

"Tommy." Techno called, a finger held out for helping Tommy to get up. "I would never hurt you"

° ° °

"Tommy." the giant called, a massive finger held out for helping him to get up. "I would never hurt you"

Tommy stood up with help from the giant— What was his name? Was it Tech...?— while looking up towards the giant figure.

A long flowy pink hair, two long pointed ears, two tusks poking from his mouth... Tommy remembered it was scary from when he first saw the giant, but for some reason, the assurance from him reverberated inside Tommy's heart. The nagging feeling of familiarity and "home" radiating from the giant to Tommy doesn't help either.

Tommy stared at the giant. He's kneeling, making his form a lot smaller than it should be. Tommy's glad for that. The giant already looks so much bigger kneeling, Tommy doesn't want to imagine his full height. At least, not right now. "are you sure..?"

The giant nods, repeating his words. "Yeah. I would never hurt you, Tommy."

Tommy stared at the giant. Looking at the concerned expression of the giant. Tommy felt reassurance bubbling more inside his heart. Tommy knows the giant is telling the truth.

Eventually, Tommy stepped out from his thoughts, realizing that he's still on the ground— he should go back to the top of the rock.

With very much difficulty, Tommy tried climbing the rock. The first attempt was very much a fail— as soon as he tried climbing, his arm gave up. Tommy guesses it's the numbness. The second attempt, though, Tommy got help from the giant. The giant gave him his palm as a platform.

"Thank you" Tommy mumbled, still feeling awkward— he guesses the giant also felt awkward— judging by the thick tension in the air. "Can- do you- If you said you didn't- didn't kidnap me," Tommy started, trying to break the tension, "then... can you tell me what really happened?"

The giant stopped for a moment, only watching Tommy. His eyes looked like it widened a little. But eventually, he let out a small huff and start telling Tommy a story. How they first met— the giant really did kidnap Tommy— but after a bit of explanation, Tommy understood the situation. The giant then continued telling about how Tommy warned the giant about oncoming group of humans

He then explained about them running away from the humans together— with the giant trapping Tommy again— and when Tommy asked why, the giant hesitated to answer,

"You.. you reminded me of my friend" the giant answered before continuing again. At the back of his mind, Tommy relaxed. Like it was something he needed to know.

The giant continued to tell the story. telling how Tommy asked to live with him. When Tommy asked why, the Giant said "You said you're scared of villages" and Tommy nodded after that. That kind of make sense— an eerie feeling rose at the thought of a distant, but familiar scenery of a village.

At the end of the story, the giant told the story of last night— about how they were chased by humans. The giant said they were bickering when the giant saw a hoard of humans marching towards them, so the giant quickly grabbed Tommy— forgetting to tell him about the current situation— and the giant apologized after that.

"so that's what happened" Tommy mumbled out, looking towards the giant— who looks slightly exhausted from all the storytelling. "Thank you, T- Tech- Tech- Techie..?"

Tommy can only watch as the giant's face changes into an expression similar to shock. "....what" a low— but not menacing— voice said.

"I- fumk- I forgot your name" Tommy meekly said— he's sure that the giant's not angry, but a giant is still making him nervous.

"Techno. Technoblade" The giant — Techno— huffed out.

"That's a fumkign dumb name" Tommy blurted out, but quickly slapped his hand to cover his mouth.

"It's okay. You said that the first time you knew my name too" Techno deadpanned. Tommy let out a very loud laugh at that.

"So uh— Nice.. Nice to meet you?" Tommy said after a moment of waiting his laugh to stop.

"Nice to meet you too, Tommy." Techno smiled

Giants are vicious, giants are evil.

A distant telling of a village rang inside Tommy's head.

Well, to those people, Tommy will give them a middle finger. Because he met one. A giant.

His name is Technoblade, and Tommy knows he's not evil nor vicious.

——

Thank you so much for the prompt!! I appreciate it!! :DD

The prompt is from here (I don't think I'll be taking more prompts though)

And.. Masterlist ! If you're interested in my other writings! :D

#ask #Reaper ask #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #g!techno #t!tommy #amacawrites #Also I have very much appreciation for the last paragraphs #I do think they're pretty #thank you very much #but again Sorry for the delay

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Tired - Wade X Reader

Reader is a mutant who teams up with Wade & Peter on patrols and is Wade's girlfriend.

After a particularly gruelling night out she gets overwhelmed and Wade is more than happy to provide comfort.

Warnings - Panic & stress are described / Periods & Blood mentioned

*Requests are open if anyone is interested*

It was a long night of trouble. It seems that when it rains it pours in regards to both organized and disorganized crime. They must all get their horoscope from the same paper.

“Friday night will bring great promise for your illegal business affairs. If you have been holding out, make your move, now is the time to go full throttle.”

All the lowlifes seem to flock to the center of the city like moths to a flame. This meant that while we normally work as a team, we had to split up multiple times. If Peter didn’t already look like a Mac truck had run him over & reversed back for a second go, you might not feel so anxious about leaving him.

Wade on the other hand was a tank, you had to worry about the things around him more than the merc himself.

After a particularly awful fight, you really hoped that she would be the final mob boss of the night. Being on high alert for the better part of 8 hours you were starting to feel the night's events take its toll.

Making it to the meet up spot at the top of their favourite building, you laid down on your back feeling relieved you didn’t see anything requiring your attention on the way back.

Looking up at the sky starting to change colour, your mind started to race through everything that had happened. Mind calculating and trying to make sense of every punch thrown. You had gotten your period that morning, almost failed a test at school, and beaten up at least 40 people. Absently you laid your hand on your ribs and flinched at the pain.

“Babe! You okay?!” Wade called out in panic, running across the roof top to you.

“I’m good! I’m good!” You said trying to avoid causing panic. It wouldn't be the first time you got stabbed or shot. You tried to sit up but let out a moan and gave up.

“Everything hurts! But I’m good”

“You don’t seem good. Don’t get me wrong you look hot. But I think it's past your bedtime.” Big arms came and picked you up.

"Are you okay?" you mumbled

"Never better babe, took down the baddies, saved the day, now I get to carry the princess home" You were relived that he came across genuinely happy.

“You don’t have to carry me” You whispered secretly hoping he doesn’t stop.

“Yeah but I want to so hush” His voice sounded even deeper with your ear pressed against his chest.

You loved it when Wade took care of you, but guilt was never far behind those feelings. Peter checked in and told them he was on his way back to the apartment.

The whole ride back you thought about how you were being a burden. Wade never showed it, but how many times have people snapped at you out of the blue. You were a lot to handle. You had made a lot of progress with your mental health and panic attacks in the last 7 years. You didn’t have much of a choice when your mutation causes everything else around you to shake just as hard as your body does.

Wade dealt with things much like Professor Xavier & Erik did. Growing up in the mansion Erik was by far the best person to calm you down. Somehow you always knew deep down he never saw you as a destructive or an evil force. Just someone to be cared for and respected. They never made you feel like a burden.

Now as an adult you decided to take a break from the X-men and joined up with Team Red.

“Sweetums, can you get the door.” Wade brought you back to your surroundings. You reached out and opened the front door. Wade carried you through to his ensuite bathroom and placed you gently on the marble countertop.

You had no motivation to move or speak, it was a relief when Wade started to take off your clothes for you. He looked you over for any notable injuries but so far it was just a lot of bruising.

“Babe, I love you but blue ain't your colour. I shouldn’t have left you on the docs alone” He said in a sad voice, fingers brushing over your ribs and stomach.

“It was fine Wade. The humans were a slice of cake. It was their spooky mutant henchmen that really went for the gold” You mumbled. She had been able to absorb your mutation and use it against you. You gave Wade the gory details while he got himself undressed and started the shower.

“Your shaking.” He stated while pulling you into the shower. He put you directly under the hot spray and held you tightly in his arms.

Now that you weren’t fighting or running to the next fight, you realized the more you calmed down the more worn out you were.

By the way Wade started lecturing about his favourite episode of Golden Girls you knew that he knew you weren’t okay. Looking down at some point you could see blood streaming down your legs.

“Oh. Sorry. I uh-” Embarrassment flooded your face, a sense of anxiety swelling in your tender stomach. Wade only started laughing.

“Babe. I have bled on every surface of this apartment. You bleeding is never going to bother me. Unless you're hurt.” he kissed your forehead and went back to his in depth argument.

Next thing you know he’s drying you off in a towel like you remembered people doing when you were a kid. Like being in a tornado.

He disappeared and came back with one of his shirts and a clean pair of panties. You said thank you as he headed out of the bed room.

You wanted to ask him how you could help him or apologize for getting like this, but all your words got stuck in a tight knot in your chest. Your brain put the night's evening on re-run again just to make sure you didn’t miss all the things you should have done differently. Mostly you just wished you could be sassy like Peter, or funny like Wade was. You cleaned yourself up then flopped onto his bed. Breathing in the scent of his sheets. Even though Wade normally ran hot his bed was always covered with a million of the softest blankets and quilts.

After getting nested and closing your eyes something warm was placed in your lap. It was a nice plate of cheese & chicken quesadillas. Your stomach gave a lurch that informed you that you were very hungry.

Wade hopped up on the bed and sat cross legged scarfing down the too hot meal. Suddenly you were overwhelmed with feelings.

“Wade?” you said shakily. You didn't even know what you were going to tell him. There weren't words to explain how you felt. Happy, loved, safe, tired, angry, scared, embarrassed, ashamed....

“Yeah” He said between mouthfuls

“I’m not doing okay ” You looked over at him and started crying.

“Awe puppy. It’s okay. I’m here. Peter’s down the hall. Matt is downstairs. No one’s gonna hurt you here.” His eyes were filled with an understanding that only made your heart ache more.

“I’m sorry I don’t know why I feel like this” You felt tired and no matter what you thought of you couldn’t stop crying.

“If its about that cat fight earlier, you kicked her ass once. You can do it again.”

You let out a wet laugh and got down your food.

Wade took your plate and put in on the dresser, then flopped onto the bed pulling you down into him.

"I'm sorry. I normally don't cry like this" You said with a heaving chest, pain starting to creep its way into your brain.

"Even if you cried like this all the time I'd still be here loving you." He whispered in a deep voice while settling you into a comfortable spot.

As soon as you were trapped there with a full belly tangled up in a hoard of blankets and Wade's heavy limbs. You felt your body start to relax. He ran his fingers through your hair whispering soft murmurs of encouragement. That you were his and that you were safe.

#wade wilson x you #wade wilson x reader #Requests are open #wade wilson #deadpool

[ifonlyweknewwhatiwasdoing]

Do You Trust Me? (04 Whumptober 2021)

Prompt: "do you trust me?"/taken hostage/pushed

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker

Rating: Gen

Warnings: Major Character Death

Summary:

“Do you trust me?”

Obi-Wan looked up sharply to look at the man across from him.

“I trusted Anakin Skywalker. You are not him.”

“Do you trust me?”

Obi-Wan looked up sharply to look at the man across from him.

“I trusted Anakin Skywalker. You are not him.”

“But I am,” Vadar argued, “Just because you didn’t know about the considerable overlap doesn’t mean that I am not him.”

“And whose fault is that?” Obi-Wan snarled back at him angrily.

He couldn’t believe that he’d been such a fool but he supposed he deserved it for breaking his own vows so thoroughly. From experience, he should have known that Obi-Wan Kenobi wasn’t made for love. He’d failed at it so many times and yet here he was.

Standing on the edge of a cliff once more and keeping his eyes straight ahead as if he wouldn’t lose balance and tumble over the edge.

Except this time he had really done it.

Darth Vadar, the most feared Sith in the galaxy, who’d wrought hundreds of millions of deaths. Too many to be able to feasibly count.

“Obi-Wan please I don’t have time to argue with you,” Vadar said and it almost sounded as if he were pleading, “My master will be here any minute and we need to get out of here before that happens. I’ve set the ship to self-destruct and it will take us with it if we don’t leave.”

“I think I might rather die than escape with a liar and a Sith,” Obi-Wan told him simply.

“You- you can’t die,” Vadar almost sounded as if he were choking on the words, “Please you can’t. You have to believe me when I say I never meant to trick you. I was just afraid-.”

“That I would change my mind?” Obi-Wan asked sharply, “That I wouldn’t want to continue? That I wouldn’t accept that you are a monster? Was that what you were afraid of Vadar?”

Vadar flinched like he’d been slapped.

“That you would stop saying my name,” Vadar said quietly.

“What?”

Obi-Wan had expected a lot of answers but that hadn’t been it.

“No one has said my name since I was a child,” Vadar looked choked up, “Since my mother was still alive. I just wanted to keep hearing my name. I love you. It always sounded so perfect when you said it.”

“Is that something you think you deserve?” Obi-Wan finally asked, swallowing around the lump in his throat, “You’ve killed hundreds of millions of people. Lied to someone you claimed to love. Do you really feel as though you deserve comfort?”

“It doesn’t matter what I deserve or not,” Vadar told him firmly, “Please Obi-Wan, we’ve got to go. We’ll die if we stay.”

“Leave and- and what?” Obi-Wan was nearly hysterical, “Tell the council I’ve been kriffing a karking Separatist leader? A Sith? Tell them I’ve broken the rules by being attached to someone who would surely stab me in the back the moment it was convenient?”

“Tell them that I tricked you. Tell them you never loved me. Tell them- force, tell them that I forced you, I don’t care,” Vadar told him and Obi-Wan couldn’t ignore the way tears had started gathering in the man’s eyes, “Just live to tell them something.”

“You say that as if it wasn’t true,” Obi-Wan told him softly, “As if that wasn’t what you intended.”

“It wasn’t,” Vadar choked out, and then tears were falling down his face, “I never meant to hurt you. I just wanted to be loved. I’m sorry. I would have never if I- I would have never gone to you if I’d realized you wouldn’t be able to love me.”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth but then he was being tugged forward.

“We’re running out of time,” Vadar told him as he force him through the hallways, “We need to go.”

Obi-Wan allowed himself to be dragged across the ship towards the escape pods. He felt hollowed out by Vadar’s words, unable to come up with a reasonable response.

“You said that no matter what I did in my past it was my past,” Vadar told him through tears as they moved quickly through the halls, “That you could love me despite my misdeeds. I should have realized that it wouldn’t extend to what I had done. I’m sorry.”

“Everyone tells me that it’s dark,” the man had told him, looking down to where their hands were connected.

Obi-Wan thought about it for a minute. His force presence wasn’t necessarily dark, but he could see how people would think that. It seemed more...lonely, perhaps a bit shattered. Like someone who’d had the rug pulled out from under them one too many times and didn’t know how to trust someone. It was the force presence of a man who was still just as scared as he’d been as a child but Obi-Wan didn’t know how to explain that to him.

“It’s not dark,” he said finally, slowly as he meticulously gathered his thoughts into words, “Don’t think me rude but I’d say it’s a perhaps a bit broken, like something hurt you and left it a bit jagged around the edges. But it’s not dark, it’s- well the only thing I think I could compare it to that would even come close would be a supernova.”

“The way you surround it,” the man had told him, “It’s makes everything feel so much better. Is there any way I might be able to do that?”

Obi-Wan smiled apologetically, “Not without years of training I’m afraid.”

It hurt to watch the beautiful face of that man fall in disappointment. He seemed to think about Obi-Wan’s answer and then he was looking up at him through his lashes.

“Then- then do you think you could do it again?” he asked hesitantly, “It- it just feels so nice. You make everything so quiet.”

---

“Please, please more,” Anakin begged under Obi-Wan, face flushed and eyes rolled up into his head.

Obi-Wan obliged, starting to thrust into him harder, reveling in the way the man accepted him so completely into his body and his mind.

Their signatures were tangled so thoroughly it was impossible to tell where one began and one ended and then Anakin was gasping, back arching up as he came. Obi-Wan followed closely, letting out a moan, and then before he could stop himself-

“I love you,” Obi-Wan moaned out.

Then he panicked as Anakin froze underneath him.

“Oh, oh shit I’m so-.” Obi-Wan began to apologize but was stopped by the way Anakin let out a sob, burying his head into Obi-Wan’s neck.

“Do you mean that?” he asked between choked breaths, “Please say you mean it.”

Obi-Wan felt his heart break at the way his lover had reacted.

“I mean it,” Obi-Wan promised, running his hands through Anakin’s hair.

“I love you too,” Anakin cried, “Say it again. Please say it again. Say my name.”

Obi-Wan kissed the top of his head and leaned next to his ear, “I love you Anakin.”

Anakin started to cry even harder, entire body shaking as he pressed as close as he could to Obi-Wan while still being at the awkward angle they were in.

“Even if I’ve done things that are unforgivable? Even if I had to do things I didn’t want to? I- I didn’t think anyone could love me after what I’ve done,” Anakin sobbed.

“Nothing is unforgivable,” Obi-Wan promised him with a kiss, “I love you Anakin and I forgive you. I want you regardless of what you’ve done. I know that you seemed to be a mercenary of some kind. I still love you.”

Anakin couldn’t stop the tears as he clutched to his lover. The only man he’d ever let touch him. The only person who had ever wanted to touch him. The man who said that he loved him even after he’d made so many mistakes.

“I thought you were a mercenary,” Obi-Wan told him stiffly but it hurt to say, more than he would have liked, “I thought your body count was in the hundreds, not nearly a billion people. How could you think that was the same thing?”

“You said that because the man who took me in made me that it wasn’t my fault,” Anakin choked out, stopping at the door to an escape pad and jabbing his fingers on the keypad, “You said I was innocent.”

Obi-Wan had. Obi-Wan knew what Anakin had told him. Sidious was the man who had paid for him and his mother and forced Anakin on the path he was on. He’d killed Anakin’s mother and forced him into this life.

But Obi-Wan hadn’t known it was Sidious. He thought Anakin had still been a slave, although one with more freedom than most. He thought Sidious was a slave owner, perhaps a mob boss of some sort- not, not the Sith who had orchestrated the war.

The door to the escape pod opened and then Obi-Wan was being pushed into it by a desperate Vadar. Obi-Wan stepped back to make room for him but the door shut in front of him and he was staring at Vadar through the transparisteel with a confused expression.

“Vadar what are you doing?”

Vadar put his hands on the transparisteel and gave Obi-Wan a wet smile.

“I love you Obi-Wan,” he told him, “You made me want to be a better person. So I’ve been collecting evidence against Palpatine. I’ve got enough to make a case. It’s been hardwired into the escape pod.”

“Palpatine?” Obi-Wan’s voice rose in disbelief, “The kriffing chancellor is the Sith in the senate?”

“Was,” Vadar corrected, “This is where he dies. This is where all the Sith die. All of them have boarded the ship. They think I’ve found a way to end the war. And I guess in a way I have.”

Obi-Wan swallowed thickly, “You don’t have to die with them Vadar.”

More tears fell down the man’s face, “I do. They are here and I need to answer for my own sins. Besides, there’s nothing left for me without you.”

Obi-Wan’s entire body went cold as he realized what Vadar’s plan was.

“You don’t have to,” Obi-Wan told him firmly, “Please Vadar! We can figure things out!”

He couldn’t die like this. It didn’t matter how angry Obi-Wan was, he couldn’t just shut off the way he-.

“I love you Anakin,” Obi-Wan tried, “I love you. Please don’t leave me alone.”

Anakin leaned his head on the clear door, “Can you say that again, please? Hearing that was the best thing that ever happened. I want to hear it again.”

“Anakin I love you,” Obi-Wan said again, “Please listen to me-.”

“It’s okay,” Anakin looked up at him with red, puffy eyes, expression broken, “You don’t have to try to convince me to leave. Just lying and saying that you loved me was enough Obi-Wan. I know you don’t anymore but I still wanted to hear it so bad. I love you too.”

“I’m not lying,” Obi-Wan felt his own tears start, “Please I’m sorry. I was angry. I love you Anakin Skywalker. Please don’t leave me.”

“I love you too,” Anakin nodded and then he hit a button on the side of the pod and Obi-Wan’s pod was being launched, secondary doors closing Anakin in the ship as Palpatine, Dooku, and their associates walked in the room.

Obi-Wan was thrown to one side of the pod as the ship blew, pieces of it smacking into the pod and sending him flying around in the small space.

Hours later, when the Jedi found him, bringing the pod into one of their ships, Obi-Wan played the recordings for them.

Anakin Skywalker had saved the galaxy. He’d more than righted all his wrongs.

And he’d died thinking Obi-Wan couldn’t love him.

#whumptober2021 #no.4 #do you trust me? #star wars #fic #major character death #nsfwhump #obikin #obikin fanfiction #musicsoul1982

[petrichormeraki]

Thinking about.... hermit ranboo but the hermits try to find a way to help him teleport on demand and accurately...

Mob hybrids aren’t new to Hermitcraft in the slightest, but the members of this fantastical world have never seen anything like Ranboo before. 

He says he doesn’t remember where he came from, and he can barely remember who he is in the first place, but based on his looks alone it can be guessed that the lanky teenager is half ghast and half enderman. Still, his one green eye is an enigma, even to Xisuma. He is so unknown and unique, the admin can’t help but observe him.

Ranboo can teleport if he’s nervous enough, though despite the kid’s awkward demeanor, is not often. Even if it does, he can’t seem to control it. He told Xisuma that his random teleportation had once sent him to the endless void below bedrock, and he was only barely able to muster enough energy to get back out before the abyss tore him apart. (Xisuma sympathizes, having more than enough experience with the void himself. He offers Ranboo an emergency supply of enderpearls in an inconspicuous chest, and though the kid never brought it up, Xisuma notices when he checks that the chest is empty.)

No-one else on the server can help in the way Ranboo needs it, but Xisuma has enough power from being the world’s admin to warp places should he need in an emergency. It’s not the same, and Xisuma barely uses it to be fair to his hermits.

Then again, there are always exceptions. 

Xisuma meets Ranboo in the End, a place the teen had only recently been acquainted to because of his old world’s restrictions. The End dimension was the birthplace of all endermen, and though Ranboo was obviously very different, Xisuma thought it would be worth a shot to attempt to strengthen that part of the kid. 

“I know it’s scary.” Xisuma says soothingly, watching Ranboo’s mismatched eyes flitter nervously to the void below. “But I promise, your elytra will catch you. You don’t even need to be good at it! Just aim up, and fire your rockets if you fall.” 

Ranboo shifts the wings strapped to his back, plain and gray on account of he hadn’t worn them nearly long enough for them to change into his aesthetic. Xisuma’s own insectoid wings buzz with a silent support; if Ranboo fails, the admin will save him. 

Ranboo swallows and takes a deep breath. “...Do I have to do this?” he asks, a knowing tone of fearful acceptance edging his voice. Xisuma watches him for a few seconds, and then sighs. 

“No. But I’d feel a lot better if you had some form of practice for when I’m not there, you know?” the admin admits. Ranboo nods, his fear temporarily replaced by an expression Xisuma can’t quite recognize. The tall hybrid summons his whethered book and quill from his inventory and scrawls something in messy Galactic before pocketing it again. “...Okay. I’m--okay. Let’s do it.” 

(TO BE CONTINUED) 

#its tbd because im in shambles over ranboos breakdown AAAA #meraki answers #hermit tommy au #fic response