#suddenly I’m supposed to have my life figured out even though I’ve been allowed to make a decision ever until now and I have an intense fear

[diarrheathingwhenyoushit]

Tumblr on iPad is a different kind of hell

#akiangel #angel devil #aki hayawaka #me and my ak #suddenly I’m supposed to have my life figured out even though I’ve been allowed to make a decision ever until now and I have an intense fear #of work but I need money because my family doesn’t have money and I had an idea for what to do as a side job but I can’t do it because #reasons and I don’t know how to cope #I wish I could do Art commissions but I am better at traditional art and I would have to figure out how to receive money #like honestly I just hate the idea of having to do something with my life #im literally so great tho #where is the vent discord channel when I need it #anyway Akiangel truthers?

[anlian-aishang]

For the practice drabble thingie, Sweat/Scent kink? 👁️ 👁️

I just. k n o w. I have this headcanon that Levi always uses baby/scented powder to avoid sweating so much on expeditions/missions, but maybe one day he just runs out of it or rushes out of his room, so Levi gets flustered or self-conscious for the rest of the day or smth, idk I don’t think he would smell **that much**, but… still, he smells pretty masculine, yknow?👁️👁️

Tags: levi x reader [mutual pining], sfw [but fetish-based material], sweat & scent stuff, canonverse, gn!reader Word count: 2700 A/N: Holy hell, thank you, this is exactly what I wanted. nsfw sequel is in the works <3

It was his fucking day off. 

Levi was the most cautious when it came to anticipation. Sights no one should have to see had scarred him to the point of learning: if you never got your hopes up, nothing could let you down. That thought rained on most of his parades, but he supposed there was little letdown to be had when it came to the likewise little things. On returns from expeditions, he allowed himself to look forward to the removal of his heavy gear and tight belts. When the smell of fresh-baked bread wafted through the barracks, he let his tongue salivate and his stomach sing. Today would have been his first day off in - he couldn’t even remember - god knows how long. Last night, his stagnant stoicism seemed to float away, head in clouded daydream of how to make this day perfect.

But some days weren’t meant to be perfect.

Instead of birds chirping and the first rays of sunlight that Levi anticipated, it was a series of harsh knocks at the hour of indigo sky that woke him up. Levi startled out of sleep, snapping up with a breathless gasp.  

In hindsight, maybe he should’ve said nothing, maybe then they would’ve left him alone. However, being woken suddenly, though a common occurrence, almost always meant disaster in the Scouts. His voice cracked a barely audible “W’What?” No response. Levi coughed and cleared his throat, the return of his scathing tone, “What?”

The knob swiveled. His door creaked. In the shadows of dawn stood a domineering, a commanding, six-foot figure. The leisurely pace with which he entered the room conveyed that there was no life-or-death emergency, and thus no good reason, for having barged in here on his day off. Levi rolled his eyes and scowled, “I didn’t say ‘come in.’”

Erwin ignored his remark and instead cut to the chase. “Supply transports were raided in Trost.”

His mind already set in vacation mode, it was remarkable how quickly his knowledge of the restock had left him, “What?”

“Tug-of-war with the Garrisons and MPs, scouring over the leftover scraps of the materials that were supposed to be.”

“The hell do the MPs need anything for?”

“I’m headed to the capital to find out.”

Too tired to think - let alone attempt - to disguise his confusion. Levi’s brows arced, lips parted as he tried to piece together what the hell this had to do with him. When it dawned, his trademark pout revived. 

“...No.”

“So you’ll take my stand, running morning drills in -” Erwin checked his pocket watch - “twenty minutes.”

“I’m off today.” Levi refuted. “Get Miche or Hange to do it.”

“They’re coming with me.” Erwin’s eyes were dead set, nearly offended, don’t you know I’ve thought of this already? “Unless, of course, you want to make the trip.”

To yak with the higher-ups? He would sooner crawl through mud.

Though he was given a choice, he took pity at his situation: “Bullshit…” Levi cursed beneath his breath, his version of whining.

Impatient, Erwin tapped his foot, “Are you going to get up or would you like to sit here and talk about our feelings?” The commander’s voice was starkly monotone, despite the sarcasm dripping in his statement.

Levi could play that card, too. “Are you going to leave or are you just here to watch my bare ass roll out of bed?”

Right. Erwin turned on his heel, door slammed in his wake. 

His impulse was to throw his head back on his pillow and an arm over his face, but twenty minutes - he didn’t even have the time for that. Levi bunched his sheets in his hands, so angry that his fists trembled, and swiveled his legs over the edge of his bed. A pang of nausea and a sharp headache, his body was pissed at him for the violent disruption of his sleep cycle. Levi held his forehead in hand and shook, blame eyebrows, not me. 

Levi’s limbs felt heavy, like he had just come indoors from a rainstorm. Clouds of colorful swears and harsh grunts propelled him through his morning routine. A three-minute shower, trimming his bangs, toothpaste and mouthwash followed by tea. One of many identical uniforms was laid out on his dresser, but before that…

From head to toe - undercut nape, under the arms, the shelf of his pecs, between his thighs, and finally his feet - Levi always applied a handful of drying agent. At this time of year, headquarters could seriously reek, and Levi refused to contribute to that filth. Pressing his lips together and stifling a yawn, he turned the container upside down. Lips parted, though, when nothing fell out. 

Shake. Shake shake.

A blockage, a clump, maybe? But there was no sound. The slightest of twitches in his fingers as Levi delicately, anxiously, twisted off the cap and peered inside. 

That’s right. He had made a mental note yesterday, that part of his day off would be dedicated to visiting the market, buying tea leaves, some new briefs, and his astringent powder - all items he was too mortified to order through the Corps. Given the thieving that had just happened, it was not like those supplies would’ve arrived anyway, but now, he would not have the freedom to go out and get them. 

With the jar completely open, he considered a few shakes in vain, but the bottle was so empty that he could see the reflection of his dark-circled eyes in the bottom of it. Levi allowed himself a heavy, exasperated sigh as he set the empty vessel back on his bathroom countertop just to loudly smack it into the trash can. Fucking shit. 

At least he had showered, but peering out the window and onto the training grounds, he could already see waves of heat radiating off the pavement. Come noon, it would be far worse. Clock ticking, for now, his only solution was to cut down on layers. It was then that he realized how little leniency the uniform lent. Gritting his teeth, Levi reluctantly left his top drawer shut, forgoing his undershirt and underwear. Walking past his mirror, his reflection caught his own eyes: his ivory skin barely yet noticeably peeking through the buttons of his grey shirt. Goddammit, he ripped the brown, canvas coat off its hanger and crossed it tight across his chest. To the harmony of his soles on wooden floor, his inner voice melodized: Could an outfit be both breathable and modest?

Levi could not bring himself to abandon his cravat, so instead of tying it beneath his collar, he let it sling out his back pocket, at the ready to grasp for when he needed to wipe his sweat away. That moment was inevitable, but he preferred not to think about it. He ran his fingers through his hair, base of his hand lingered on his widow’s peak, grinding pressure away like a mortar and pestle. Whatever, he tried to assure himself, as long as no one was around… 

At first, he thought he might manage. If they got close enough, they would surely notice the glimmer shining upon his skin. However, by terse orders and points of his fingers, he had maintained a perpetual distance from the hoard of trainees. He was more of a hands-on kind of teacher, opting to join them as they ran laps or learned to grapple through trees. Today, though, he was standing in the shade several yards from the action. If anyone gave him shit for lazying aside, he had an excuse in that he wasn’t even supposed to be on-call today anyways. However, perhaps because he looked particularly irritable and scary, no one dared question his bystanding.

Then came you.

“Levi?”

It was the first time you had ever seen startle on the captain. A simultaneous, steep flinch in each of his shoulders. Hairs stood on end, he whipped his gaze around, “What? What’re you doing here?”

The sight of panic on someone so fearless, it caused you to fret by proxy. “I - I uh…” You had never second-guessed him before, you had never had to. “I’m covering for -”

“Erwin?” 

You knit your hands behind your back, a sheepish grin, “He said you’d need help. You know, given the heat…”

Levi crossed his arms and bit the inside of his cheek. How shitty could that oaf be? The truth was that this heat was getting to everyone, yet in his fluster, Levi was sure that not only Erwin knew about his secret susceptibility, but that he had spilled it to the last person Levi wanted to know. No words seemed adequate for response, so instead, he kicked his foot against the barrack wall, leaned back, and deferred to silence.  

Something was off, your eyes darted in search for it. His cheeks had been tainted a light red. Luckily, you chalked it up to the temperature, though Levi knew that was not the sole factor. His hair was slicker than its usual light-and-airy allure, you figured he had just gotten out of the shower. That was true, but this damp was sweat, not soap. Your gaze started to descend down his body, and on the way, you noticed it: no cravat. 

A dog without a collar. A missing puzzle piece. Mildly irksome yet disproportionately intriguing. It was like he had read your mind, the mocking timing with which he reached back into his pocket and lifted the cloth to his forehead, sighing and swiping. After a couple wringing flicks of his wrist, he folded it and shoved it inside the lining of his tan jacket. His left hand tucked it away, hidden, while his right hand lifted the coat away from his chest, granting him the space to do so. Again, his own state snagged his attention - the dark, drenched patch of fabric at his underarm jumped out like a bug on a wall. Fiercely, he snatched his jacket shut again, praying to whatever was out there that you had not seen. 

And though you had not seen the soak of his shirt, his odd behavior was garnering more and more of your attention. Cruelly, that made him sweat even more: not only the sun’s rays, but the blaze of your stare burning onto his skin. He cursed the thickness of his leather boots, the ODM gear that strapped his clothing tight to his skin, the turn of events that had brought you to this moment, his stupid genetics, and his even stupider feelings for you. Thoughts spiraling, humidity could mess with him in ways that titans could not.

If you thought hard about it, you may have realized that his humidity induced the same haze in you. Bangs glued to his forehead. Chest rose high and fell deep - combined with his light panting - made your brain boggle. Now and then, a clear bead of sweat would fall from his temple, down his jawline and neck, before disappearing down his collar - where you noticed that his top button was uncharacteristically undone. 

The loud pop! as he uncorked his canteen broke both of your thirsts. Head tilted far back, Adam’s apple deliciously bobbed as he gulped down his water. Lips absentmindedly fallen, your eyes drank as he did. 

Levi recognized, pretending that he hadn’t noticed your stare had thus far failed to shake it. He scoffed internally: someone could use some self-awareness, he was literally dripping with it. With a straight-on side-eye, he maintained eye contact as he gradually lowered the canteen from his lips, only to thrash it and splash it upwards into his own face. Still, you gaped like an idiot. Finally, Levi decided: if you were going to be this indulgent, he would be, too. Maybe then, you’d realize. Levi thumbed a leaking drop from the corner of his mouth. After briefly sucking the digit dry, his tongue snuck between his lips to slowly lick them clean. 

Stone-cold steel eyes and his soft pink tongue - that was what it took to break your concentration. Immediately, you snapped your gaze down to your toes and silently mouthed sorry. 

Despite the heat, shivers somehow managed to seize his figure. With your gaze averted, you thankfully missed them. However, when you no longer had your sight to rely on, other senses instinctively took over. Particularly, scent: aged sandalwood, burnt charcoal, bitter tea. On the training grounds, these smells did not come naturally. And if it were anyone else, you may have cringed at the combination of scents, but upon realization of the one and only source of this musk, you felt your middle warm with inexplicable satisfaction. 

Meanwhile, he was squirming: fuck, how badly he wanted to hit the showers. If Erwin had left this assignment to him, he had every right to leave it to the next person. The thing was, that next person was you, the blinking, doe-eyed, fresh promotion who hardly knew their blades from their gas. If you were anyone else, he could see himself saying: take this cash, head to the square and stop at this stand, buy the tallest bottle they have and bring it back to me. Say a word, you’re dead. 

But you were the entire reason he strove to keep this secret under wraps. To give you such orders would essentially be a confession, erasing the whole point. Between a rock and a hard place, Levi stood frozen in fever. 

The air was thick with moisture and silence. With each breath, the memory of that canteen escapade and his intensifying aura seemed to suffocate you. Internally, he was simmering over how to shoo you away from his disgusting sorry state. On the other hand, you were parsing over how to excuse yourself without being rude. 

The 10:00 bell rang, you used it to craft a feigned excuse, “If you’ve got things under control -”

“I do.” In some ways, he did. In others, absolutely not. 

“- I’m supposed to help mess out with lunch.”

Levi knit his brows, seemed unlikely, but he would not object. With a slight flick of his head, his gesture released you from post and encouraged you inside.

At the door frame and with his back turned, you could not help but take one last look. At his last end and assuming you had departed already, he finally shouldered that Scouts jacket off, revealing his light-grey button up having turned dark with his sweat. His fist clutched his collar and fanned ferociously, allowing his skin to breathe. Inaudible to the other, you both simultaneously reprieved, “Fuck me…”

At 11 on the dot, Levi and the platoon of morning athletes were in the cafeteria line. So what if it meant they called it quits prematurely? Inside, no one was complaining. Levi was relieved that he did not find you there, hopeful that you were in your room avoiding heat stroke, and oddly satisfied to have correctly suspected your “cafeteria-duties” bluff earlier. 

Levi looked like he had been rained on then dunk-tanked. At least, that was how his squad put it, jeering and elbowing, “What happened to you out there?”

They didn’t want to know. He didn’t want them to know. Most of all, he would rather forget this day ever happened. He took his steel tray and made for his room to eat in private - but more importantly, to shower again.  

The venture back to his quarters seemed to drag - maybe it was because the dampness of his clothes had weighed him down, or maybe it was because the empty, lone quiet of the halls allowed his consciousness to echo loud and clear: humiliating, huh? 

He could not deny that it was fucking humiliating, but for as scathing as the memory of that embarrassment was, the recollection of your rose-colored stare was just as impactful. All along, he had feared that if you witnessed his weakness to heat - more so the sweat and stench that came with it, it would have sent you running the other direction. Self-doubt suggested: they did end up running, though. That mess-hall excuse, them being them, they were probably trying not to offend you as they took cover from your reek. Self-confidence objected, but remember the way they looked at you? Don’t play dumb. You know that look anywhere. They like you - and hell - maybe they liked it.

On his doormat, a tall white bottle and a handwritten note confirmed the latter.

Seemed like you were missing something… …not that I think you need it. - (Y/N)

// masterlist //

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi #levi ackerman #levi x you #levi ackerman x you #levi x y/n #levi ackerman x y/n #oneshot #request #weeeeeeeeeeeee #2023 #anlian writes #my writing #alias's #fluff

[worseforwords]

Exposed (Ona Batlle x Reader)

Thanks to @footygirl114 for the title idea! Buckle up everyone, this is a long one.

“Heads up!” Ona’s voice called from behind you and you felt her leap onto your back a moment later. Today was a good day. United had just beaten City 2-0 in a home game and you had even managed to score one of the goals. Your girlfriend waved at the supporters as you strolled past the stands, but your gaze drifted towards an unusual figure sitting some way down the row. With black hair tipped in blue, striking make-up, dark and frayed clothes, and a plaited choker around her neck, she seemed out of place in a football crowd. You were intrigued, something about her felt familiar, though she was too far away to say exactly what it was. As you caught yourself staring at her for a little too long, you noticed she was staring right back at you, and as you drew closer, she gave you a wave. You suddenly recognised her, and your smile faded. She must’ve noticed your sudden revelation, as she sent you a quick wink. 

Your stomach dropped and panic set in as you considered what to do. Ona still sat on your back, basking in the glory of victory. You knew you had to go say hi to the girl who was now smiling broadly at you from the stands, but you wanted to do so discreetly, without any teammates, especially Ona, joining in on the conversation, or any cameras for that matter. You let Ona down on her feet, to which she send a quick pout your way, before turning her face back towards the fans to continue the walk around the field. Waiting until everyone was distracted, you hastened to the railing to greet the mysterious girl. 

“Hi” you said, quiet as a whisper. “Hey Y/N, long time no see.” she replied, leaning over the barrier to pull you in for a hug. You smiled uncomfortably, scanning your surroundings before reciprocating her hug. As she pulled away, she chuckled, “So, soccer, huh?” “We call it football here.” you answered, trying to match her laugh.

The conversation was short-lived as Ona wandered over, curious as to who you were speaking to. “Hey, who’s this?” she asked, her attention fully on you. “This is Nia, erm- an old friend.” you answered quickly, avoiding eye contact. “Nia, this is Ona.” Ona looked at you confused for a second, probably expecting some sort of label in your introduction, before she brushed it off and quickly shook Nia’s hand. “Hi, nice to meet you.” “Likewise.”

The small interaction sent shivers down your spine. Until now, you had managed to keep your past safely hidden. You had traveled a lot when you were younger, which had allowed you to leave certain things behind, and it had never caught up to you until this moment. It hadn't been hard, as you just omitted certain parts of your youth, namely the two years you spent in LA as a teenager.

Nia broke the silence, turning to you. “So,” she said, “you do remember my name. I was afraid you’d forgotten about us for a second there, Picky.” You froze. Picky. You hadn’t heard that nickname in ages. You avoided Ona’s questioning expression as you tried to laugh it off. “Of course I remember you. It just took me a second, what with your hair and make-up.” you said, pointing at said attributes. “Fair enough,” Nia giggled, “I’ve probably changed my hair about 40 times since we last met. I’m not the only one who’s changed though.” she continued, eyeing your bright red Manchester United shirt. You laughed, “Yeah, I suppose I have.” “Do you still have the tattoo at least?” Nia asked, causing Ona to look up with surprise.

The tattoo. It was the one and only thing you had left from your previous life, a permanent mark etched onto your skin. You had planned to get it removed at some point, but the laser removal was quite expensive, and since the tattoo wasn’t often visible to others, you never bothered to actually get it done. When you started dating Ona however, you knew she was bound to notice it at some point. When she did, you had momentarily forgotten about it when she started pulling down your underwear (really who could blame you for your mind being elsewhere), and you were taken aback by her immediate questioning about the small violet on your hip with the words “can’t take back the bullet” scribbled underneath it. Luckily you were still quick on your feet and you made something up along the lines of it being a reminder to not let your emotions get the better of you and Ona let it slide after that because she too had other things on her mind.

“Yeah, I still have it.” you said with a shy smile, still avoiding Ona’s gaze. “Good, me too.” Nia said, making Ona turn to her sharply. “By the way, Picky,” she started, changing the subject, “you still owe Casey some money, remember?” This was the final straw for you.  Too much had already been said, and you needed to get away as fast as possible. You took advantage of a group of fans who called out your names to excuse yourself, pulling Ona with you towards them. After signing a few shirts and taking selfies, you hurried inside.

“What was that all about?” Ona asked as she caught up with you. “What was what about?” You stalled, trying to come up with an excuse for your strange behaviour. “Why are you being weird?” she asked directly. “I’m not, just tired from the game, that's all.” you said, unable to come up with anything better as you headed towards the changing room, avoiding eye contact, gaze straight ahead. “Shit,” you muttered as you sat down, “forgot my coat, be right back.” 

As you walked back onto the pitch, you couldn’t resist checking if Nia was still there. To your dismay, you saw her talking to Millie. “Mills!” you yelled, running towards them. “Come with me, now.” You grabbed her wrist, pulling her away from the conversation. “Woah, Y/N, calm down, what’s going on?” she asked, shocked by your sudden intervention. “It’s just that,” you paused to think as your eyes scanned the stands, quickly finding just what you needed. “I saw some little girls over there who want your autograph, and I think they’re about to leave without it,” you said, pointing towards a group of young girls holding up a sign with Millie’s name on it. “Oh, thanks. Maybe next time, don’t be so intense about it?” she chuckled. “Noted.” you said, walking with her towards the excited children. “So, erm, what were you talking about with that girl?” you asked carefully. “Nothing really. I just told her I liked her style, and then you pulled me away. Why?” You scanned her face, trying to see if she was telling the truth. For a moment, you thought you saw a small smirk in the corner of her mouth, but you decided not to dwell on it as it would only arouse suspicion. “Nothing, never mind.”

Ella’s voice resounded through the changing room like a joyful bell. “Woooo, party at mine ladies!” she exclaimed. As she settled beside you, she turned to address you. “You coming, Y/N?” she asked, a friendly grin etched onto her features. “Sure, but I have to pop home for a quick shower, forgot my towel,” you replied, hastily pulling on your joggers and coat. Ona began to offer her towel, but before she could finish her sentence, you had already bolted out of the door. 

As you plopped down on your bed, trying to recover from the events of the day, your mind raced with thoughts and questions. You tried to make up reasons for your strange behaviour earlier, but nothing seemed to make sense. You knew that no one could know about what happened. It would change how they see you, and you couldn’t bear that. Those two years in LA were supposed to stay in LA, and thus far, no one had a single clue about it. Nia suddenly showing up made you terrified that someone would find out, so when she messaged you asking if you wanted to hang out, you ignored her. You couldn’t risk anyone finding out your secret.

You went to the party, hoping to take your mind off things. However, things only got worse. Ona made quick work of pulling you aside to interrogate you about earlier, asking a series of questions that made your heart race. “Can we talk?” she said. “Who is she? Why did she call you Picky? Why do you have matching tattoos? Why were you acting so weird? And who is Casey, and why do you owe them money?” 

You knew that you couldn’t tell her the truth, so you made up some stuff on the spot, hoping that it would be enough to satisfy her curiosity. You told her that Nia was just an old friend from LA that you hadn’t seen in years. You added that she was always a bit of a weirdo and that you weren’t that close. You explained that the matching tattoos were just a silly thing that you and Nia did when you were young and naive and the money thing was just some inside joke. You hoped that Ona would buy your story, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that she was still suspicious.

When Ona finally left you be, you quickly checked your phone, which had been buzzing in your pocket a lot. You’d received a series of messages from Nia, the last one of which being: 

“We need to talk. Where are you??”

As you felt increasingly anxious about Nia’s persistent messages, you decided to leave the party early to meet up with her. You quickly came up with an excuse to your teammates, telling them that you suddenly felt unwell and needed to go home to rest, and you texted Nia your address.

Shortly after arriving home, a knock resounded from your door. Hastily, you answered it and welcomed Nia into your apartment. “You’ve got a lovely place here, very grown-up, Picky,” she remarked as she stepped inside. “Please don’t call me that.” you muttered in response as you finally snapped. “Why not?” Nia asked, looking with a confused expression. Mentally debating how to deliver your message, you began, “I’m not the same person anymore.” “Obviously.” She mumbled. “When I got my chance to make it in the football world, I left my old life in LA behind. The person you knew back then is gone, I am no longer her.” you explained. “I don't believe that,” Nia responded, “you can't simply leave and become a completely different person.” “Well, I did,” you answered coldly, “and I’d like to keep it that way. So, please, don’t talk to my teammates again.” Nia remained silent for a moment as her eyes widened.

“They don’t know about us, do they?” she asked, her voice growing louder. “No, they don’t.” You replied quietly. “Woah, are you ashamed of us?” Nia practically yelled. “Of course I am!” you answered a bit too quickly before immediately regretting it. “Sorry, I mean- I didn’t mean it like that, I-” you stumbled over your words, but Nia continued to stare at you with disbelief. “Alright, got it.” she said as she turned back towards the front door. “No, Nia, please, I’m sorry, I-” “Good luck with your new life, I guess, Y/N,” she said, purposefully emphasising your name, walking away before you could finish your apology. Despite feeling guilty, you didn’t make an effort to chase after her. You convinced yourself it was better this way.

“What was that all about?” a voice called from beside you, making you jump. “Ona, hey, what are you doing here?” you asked. “You left the party so suddenly, and I came to check on you,” she explained, “but I suppose you had company.” “How long have you been standing there?” you inquired, curious about what she may have overheard. “Not long, why? Are you afraid I heard something?” Ona asked suspiciously. “No, I just- it’s chilly out here. You should come inside.” you said, holding the door open as she walked inside.

As Ona stepped into your home, she immediately turned to you with a look of frustration etched on her face. “Y/N, what happened with Nia?” she demanded, her voice tinged with anger. “You’ve been so secretive lately, it’s hard not to feel like you’ve been lying to me.” Despite her annoyance, there was a note of confusion in her tone, as if she couldn’t quite understand why you were behaving this way. Once again, you brushed off Ona's concerns, insisting that there was nothing to worry about and that Nia had just wanted to chat. However, Ona was insistent and demanded to know why she had seemed so upset when leaving your apartment. 

You found it hard to articulate your thoughts, feeling caught off guard by the sudden confrontation. “Please, Ona, can you just trust me on this. Please just let it go.” you pleaded, hoping to avoid any further conflict. Eventually, she relented and let the issue slide, but an air of concern still hung around her. The two of you went to bed in a tense silence, the events of the day lingering in your thoughts.

Two days later, as you were getting ready for training in the changing room, Millie approached you. “Hey, do you know that cute girl with the dyed hair from Sunday?” she asked. “You mean Nia?” you clarified. “Yeah, that’s the one! Ona told me you knew her. Can I get her number? I want to ask her out.” Millie explained. You hesitated before responding. “Sorry, Millie. I don’t think that’s a good idea. Nia’s bad news.” Millie looked confused. “What do you mean? What’s wrong with her?” “I can’t really explain, but trust me, she’s not someone you want to get involved with.” you insisted. Millie looked rather disappointed. “Okay, I guess. Do you have her number though?” “No, I don’t.” you replied, putting an end to the conversation as you quickly finished up getting ready.

As you entered the changing room after training, you noticed Millie with a smile on her face, gazing at her phone. Ella also spotted her and inquired her about it. “Who’s got you grinning like that, Mills?” “No-one.” Millie quickly replied, and attempted to hide her phone. However, Ella had already caught sight of it and snatched it from her hand. “Who’s Nia?” Ella asked, looking at the screen. You felt a pang in your stomach as you worried about what she could find out. “Millie, what did I tell you?” you asked, annoyed that she had contacted Nia despite your warning. “How did you even contact her?” “I slid into her DMs. Y/N, did you know sh-” Millie began to say, but you cut her off, worried she might reveal too much information. Grabbing her wrist, you dragged her out of the room to talk in private.

You pulled Millie into an empty room as she struggled to free her wrist and kept asking what was going on. “Y/N, what's the big deal? Why can’t I talk to her?” she asked. “Millie, I need you to stop contacting Nia. She’s bad news, and I don’t want you getting involved.” you explained firmly. “But Y/N, she seems so cool.” Millie protested. “Please, Mills, just trust me on this.” you pleaded. After a moment of hesitation, she reluctantly agreed. “Okay, I guess.” she said with a sigh.

You returned to the changing room and took a seat next to Ona. “I suppose that was nothing too?” She remarked sarcastically. You simply sighed in response, feeling unsure of what to say. You gathered your belongings and shot a final stern look at Millie before making your way out and heading home.

During training the next day, you warmed up with Millie, passing the ball back and forth, when suddenly you heard her hum a familiar tune. The sound of her humming that melody made your heart race faster. “What’s that you’re humming Mills?” You tried to stay calm as you asked Millie about the song whilst continuing to pass the ball to each other. However, your clenched jaw gave away your anxiety. Millie stopped humming and looked at you, seeming caught off-guard. “Oops." she said, looking down at the grass. You repeated the question, trying to sound composed, even though your anger was simmering inside you. She looked up with a slight smirk on her face. “It's a nice tune, innit?” You cursed under your breath. “Fuck.” 

You gave millie a pleading look as you took the ball in your hands and walked over to her so you could whisper. “Mills, please, I don’t know what you know, but please don’t tell anyone, I beg you.” you said quietly. “What are you talking about? Are you okay?” she asked innocently, but you didn’t buy it. Before you could answer however, Marc called for all of you to gather together to start the first exercise. You desperately tried to compose yourself as the team gathered, your mind racing with thoughts of what Millie might know. Throughout training, you couldn’t shake the feeling of paranoia that someone might find out your secret. Every time Millie came near you, you were on edge, wondering if she was going to reveal what she knew.

That evening you were sitting on the couch in your living room, lazily flipping through the channels on TV when the doorbell rang. You weren’t expecting anyone, but when you got to the door and opened it, you found a package sitting on your doorstep with no return address. Your curiosity piqued as you eagerly brought it inside and began to open it up. As you lifted the lid, you found an old, tattered photograph of yourself with a group of people, all dressed in black. You couldn't believe your eyes as you stared at the photo, realising that it was taken during the time you lived in LA.

You started to feel a sense of unease as you examined the photo more closely, trying to remember the people in the picture. You could recognise a few faces, but most of them were unfamiliar to you. You began to wonder if this was somehow related to Nia, who had recently reappeared in your life. You had a sinking feeling that she wasn’t going to let go of your earlier outburst, which made her getting closer with Millie even scarier.

As you sat on the couch, staring at the old photo, the sound of the door opening made you jump. Ona walked in, surprised to see you home so early from training. You quickly tried to hide the package, but fumbled with it and ended up dropping it on the floor. Unfortunately, you weren’t quick enough and she caught sight of the old photo. “Who are these people? And why are you all dressed like that?” Ona asked, pointing to the group of figures in black, their clothes torn and frayed. You tried to play it off, “Oh, that's just me and some old friends in our Halloween costumes. We used to go all out, you know?” Ona laughed at the idea, but then noticed the date on the back of the photo. “But it says April on here, that’s not Halloween.” she pointed out, looking at you suspiciously.

You felt your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to come up with another excuse. “Oh, right, that must have been some other dress-up party we went to. I can’t really remember.” you said, hoping she would buy it. Ona raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. You could feel the weight of the secret bearing down on you more and more with each thing that happened.

That night, as you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep, the fear and anxiety that had been brewing within you all day finally caught up. Your mind raced as you tossed and turned, and soon the nightmares began. In one particularly vivid dream, you found yourself playing in a huge match, the stadium packed to the rafters with cheering fans. You were playing well, confident and in control, until suddenly the crowd began to chant a name - a name that you hadn’t heard in years, a name that made your blood run cold. “Picky, Picky, Picky,” they chanted, and you felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach.

As the chanting grew louder and more insistent, you tried to block it out, to focus on the game, but it was no use. You were Picky, the name you’d tried so hard to leave behind, the name that had haunted you for years. And now, in this nightmare, it was back, threatening to undo everything you’d worked so hard for. 

You jolted awake, your heart racing and your body slick with sweat. For a moment, you lay there in the dark, trying to steady your breathing and make sense of what had just happened. “Are you okay?” Ona asked, clearly awakened by your midnight antics. “Yeah, just had a nightmare. Go back to sleep Ona.”

The next morning, as you mindlessly scrolled through Instagram, you noticed Millie’s recent close friends story. You felt a knot form in your stomach as you saw a picture of her and Nia together, smiling at the camera. You knew that if Millie didn’t know your secret before, she definitely did now. You frantically searched for any clues in the photo, trying to see if there was anything that could give away your past. The fear of losing everything you had worked for began to consume you, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that your world was about to come crashing down.

You quickly called Millie, hoping to get some answers about the previous night. When she answered, you could hear the sound of a bustling coffee shop in the background. Millie sounded chipper, but her cheeriness quickly evaporated when you brought up Nia. You explained that you had seen her in the Instagram story and asked what happened. Millie hesitated before finally admitting that she had met up with Nia last night. As you listened to Millie defend Nia, insisting that she wasn't a bad person, you felt your frustration growing. It was clear that Millie was taking Nia’s side, and you couldn't believe it. How could she not see what Nia was trying to do? You tried to explain your side of the story, but Millie wasn’t hearing it. “Well how would you feel if someone called you an embarrassment, Y/N?”

You felt your stomach twist with guilt as Millie’s words hung in the air. She was right, you shouldn’t have said those things to Nia. You knew that now. “I’m sorry, Millie,” you said quietly, feeling ashamed. Millie took note of your silence and sighed. “Look, let’s meet up and talk about it, okay? You don’t have to apologise to me, but you should probably make it right with Nia,” she said, her voice softening. You agreed to meet up, feeling grateful for Millie’s kindness and for the opportunity to set things right. As you hung up the phone, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread. How were you going to face Nia and explain yourself?

That night, you met up with Nia and Millie at a bar to try and make amends. You felt nervous as you sat down with them, but you knew you needed to do this. You told her you were sorry for hurting her and acting the way you did. She seemed to take it well at first, but then she asked, “So have you told anyone about us?” “No, Nia, I haven’t.” You said quietly, which seemed to frustrate her. “Well, well, well, there it is. So nothing has changed, you are still just as embarrassed. Is your apology supposed to mean anything to me?” 

Luckily, Millie stepped in and suggested some drinks to lighten the mood. You all took some shots and Millie brought up some lighter subjects as the alcohol was starting to kick in. Before you knew it, you were singing karaoke with Nia, belting out some tunes you hadn’t heard in years. It felt liberating and for a moment, you forgot about the tension between the two of you. The music brought back so many memories, making you realise your embarrassment had overshadowed all the good memories from your time in LA. You wrapped an arm around Nia as you yelled, “I really am sorry Nia, I will make it up to you, promise.”

The next morning you woke up with a raging hangover, but a small smile grew on your face as you recalled the events of last night. You strolled towards the living room to be met with Ona, who had clearly been waiting for you. “Where were you last night?” She asked coldly. “I was out,” you said, “do you know where the paracetamol is?” “Out? Where? Who with?” Ona quickly followed up, voice stil frigid. “Millie, and also Nia.” You mumbled. “Mia? I thought you weren't that close with her.” 

You stumbled towards the kitchen, wincing at the pounding in your head. “Nia, not Mia. And it was just a night out with Millie, nothing more.” you say, searching through the medicine cabinet for paracetamol. Ona followed you, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “Y/N, you’ve been acting strange lately. Is there something you’re not telling me?” she asked, her voice laced with suspicion. You swallowed the pills with a glass of water and turned to face her. “No, everything’s fine. I just needed a night out with friends.” Ona gave you a long, hard look, once again clearly not convinced.

“I can’t keep pretending I believe these lies you tell me. I think I might need some space, Y/N.” You felt a pit in your stomach. You knew she was right. Your recent behaviour had been mysterious, and you hadn’t been entirely truthful with her. You took a deep breath and tried to explain, “You’re right, I haven’t been completely honest with you. I promise I’ll tell you everything soon, I just need some time to figure things out, okay?” Ona looked at you, her eyes softening slightly. “You can’t keep pushing me away like this, Y/N. I need to know what’s going on.” You nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. “I know, and I will tell you, but I need a little more time to figure out how to say it.” Ona nodded, and you felt the weight of your recent actions settling in.

The inevitability of revealing the secret had finally caught up with you. You had kept it buried deep within yourself for far too long. As you recovered from your hangover, a plan began to form in your mind. You reached out to Millie, knowing that she likely knew everything at this point, and asked for her help in bringing the truth to light. 

The next day, with the help of Millie and some staff members, you gathered the whole team in a conference room before training. Everyone sat down and as you stood in front of them, a big screen behind you, they all sent you confused glares, especially Ona, whom you told very little about your plan for this morning. Millie hushed everyone, and your nerves began to take hold. “Greetings, everyone,” you began, “for a long time I have kept my past a secret to all of you, but today that changes. What you’re about to witness might be shocking at first, but rest assured, that stuff is in the past, I am no longer involved in such practices, and I am not the person I was back then.” 

You took a deep breath as you moved away from the screen, giving Millie a small nod, who then hit play. You sat down on the front row, not wanting to face any of your teammates reactions. A video started playing, showing a bunch of alternative looking teenagers in a car. “We are on our way to Vegaaas.” One of them said. You cringed as you waited for the realisation to dawn behind you. “OH MY GOD,” Ella shouted suddenly, “Y/N, is that you with the pink hair?” You buried your face in your hands as a song began playing in the background.

You kept your face hidden in your hands as the video kept playing, showing you during the most embarrassing period of your life, singing and dancing with the members of the poppunk band you used to be a part of. The laughter and screaming of your teammates rang loud in your ears as you endured the three-minute video, each embarrassing detail pointed out feeling like an eternity. When the last chorus ended, which everyone had sang along too, Millie yanked you by the wrist, pulling you out of hiding and into the spotlight. Your heart pounded as you stood before the team, their eyes fixed on you, most of them still recovering from the laughter. “It’s time for some questions.” Millie declared, a sly grin spreading across her face.

“Alright, go on then, ask away.” You said, knowing an intense interrogation would be inevitable at this point, to which several hands shot up immediately. “You, pink shirt.” Millie said, pointing at Ella, pretending to be hosting a press conference. “Oh my god, where to start,” Ella began, “just- what was that?” You sighed. “When I was a teenager I lived in LA for two years. During that time I joined a band, this was them.” you answered. “What instrument did you play?” Alessia inquired. “Bass, next!” “Were you famous?” Leah asked, to which you chuckled. “We had one minor hit, but not really. They did have somewhat of a breakthrough after I left though.” Some people audibly gasped at that. 

“Do you still talk to them?” Maya asked. “Not really. When I left I kind of dove into my football career, never looking back. Although recently I have been getting in touch with one of them again.” You answered. “Do you have any regrets?” Millie, momentarily losing her role as moderator, caught you off guard with her question. You pondered the question for a while before stating, “No. I don’t.” A small smile growing on your face.

As the interrogation about your past came to an end, the staff interrupted, signalling that it was time for training. The teasing followed you into the changing room where your teammates continued to poke fun at your previous life, singing the song and scouring the internet for embarrassing photos. Despite their laughter, you couldn’t help but notice the quietness of your girlfriend. She remained silent throughout the morning, refusing to participate in the banter, and you knew something was wrong. Trying to be discreet, you quietly approached her as you laced up your shoes, “Ona, can we talk after training?” She nodded, but the unease lingered in the air. Training couldn't end soon enough, as the jokes persisted, and Ona seemed to avoid you at all costs.

When training was finally over, you and Ona hastily left to your apartment. As you sat with Ona on the couch, you couldn’t help but feel guilty about the way you had been acting lately. You knew why she had been quiet all day. You had hurt her by making her think that the secret from your past was something far more sinister than it actually was.

“I’m sorry, Ona,” you began, turning towards her. “I should have told you about the band from the start, instead of acting all suspicious and making you think it was something terrible. I know I hurt you and I feel terrible about it.” Ona remained quiet for a moment, her eyes fixed on her lap. Finally, she looked up at you and spoke in a soft voice. “I was just scared, you know? I thought you had done something really bad, something that would change the way I saw you. But now that I know the truth, I just feel silly.”

You took her hand in yours and squeezed it gently. “You have nothing to feel silly about, Ona. I understand why you were scared, and I should have been more open with you from the start. I promise to be more honest with you in the future.” you said genuinely. “You made me think you were secretly married, or something, or a murderer!” she chuckled, playfully smacking your leg with her hand. “Wait, you really thought that?” you gasped. “Well not really, but I just got confused and my mind went places!” she said, looking a bit embarrassed at her confession. “I’m really sorry Ona.” you said once more.

“So bass, huh?”, Ona said, changing the subject. “Can you still play?” “I do still have my old bass hidden away in the back of my closet, but I haven’t practiced in a long time. Though I guess playing an instrument should be like riding a bike right?”

It wasn’t. You opened the old hardcase to reveal your beige fender precision bass, covered in old stickers you had picked up whilst touring and attending concerts back in the US. “Wow, you were such a loser.” Ona teased. “See, this is why I didn’t want anyone to know!” you replied, sending her a pout. “I’m kidding, I love it. Now play something for me!”

After tuning your bass for what felt like minutes (it was so out of tune you were afraid a string might snap), you tested your muscle memory by attempting to play one of your old songs. You cringed at the sound of the first few notes and quickly stopped playing. Your fingers fumbled over the frets, struggling to find the right notes. The song that used to come so naturally to you now felt like a foreign language. It was like trying to reconnect with a version of yourself that no longer existed. 

“Hey, keep going!” Ona encouraged as she noticed your defeat. “What, you didn’t think that was terrible?” you quipped, raising an eyebrow. She laughed, “Oh, your playing was definitely terrible, but the bass looks good on you.” she said, sending you a wink.

With Ona's encouragement, you kept playing for a bit longer, trying to remember the bass lines. Gradually, it started to come back to you, and the song began to sound more familiar. Ona watched you intently, her smile growing wider as you got better. “You know, I like getting to know about your past,” she said, still smiling at you. “Even if it's embarrassing to you.”

You felt a little pang of guilt wash over you again, but you were grateful for Ona's understanding. You decided to take the opportunity to show her more about your past, and pulled out some old photos from your teenage years. As you scrolled through them together, you told her about your experiences touring with the band, the crazy things you did on the road, and the friends you made along the way. Ona listened attentively, asking questions and laughing at your stories. It felt good to finally share this part of yourself with someone, and you were glad it was with her.

“So this Nia girl, are you guys good? Things seemed so intense with you two.” Ona inquired. “Yeah, I may have hurt her in my embarrassment.” You answered, looking down at your feet. “I know just what to do to make things right.” Ona said as she shot up to grab her phone.

That evening, you sat in a bar, taking a sip of your beer whilst nervously wiggling your feet. You couldn’t believe you had agreed to this, but your girlfriend had convinced you it was the right thing to do. “You didn’t tell me the whole team was coming.” you said, frowning at Ona. She grinned back at you. “Don’t be nervous, querida. You’ve played to bigger crowds before.” You couldn’t help but feel like this was some sort of payback for your recent behaviour, which you definitely deserved. “They’re here!” Ona exclaimed, making you turn around to find Millie and Nia walking into the bar, Nia’s eyes widening when she saw you. 

You made your way to the small podium opposite the bar. You grabbed a microphone and signalled to the sound guy that you were ready. “Hello everyone,” you said into the microphone, taking a deep breath. “Could I have your attention please?” You grabbed your bass from behind the curtain, causing several gasps from your teammates and, of course, Nia. “I have an apology to make to an old friend of mine who’s here tonight. Nia, I'm truly sorry for the way I acted. If you can forgive me, please join in with me.”

As you began to play the bass line from one of your old songs, you could feel the weight of everyone’s attention on you. You were nervous at first, but as you played, you started to feel more confident. After a few bars, Nia hesitantly joined in, her voice blending perfectly with your playing. You shared a smile, both of you finally letting go of the tension that had been building between you. As the song progressed, you could see the your teammates tapping their feet and nodding their heads along to the beat. By the end of the song, the whole bar was cheering and clapping, and you felt a sense of pride and relief wash over you.

As the song came to an end, the bar erupted into applause. You looked out into the crowd and saw your friends, including Ona, with wide grins on their faces. But it was Nia who surprised you the most. She walked up to you and hugged you tightly, whispering in your ear, “I forgive you, Y/N.” “It’s Picky.” You smiled.

As you walked Nia towards the bar to order her a drink, you casually asked, “By the way, that photo was yours, wasn’t it?” Her face broke into a sly smile. “Photo? I have no idea what you are talking about.” she retorted. You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed with her denial. “Really? So it was just some random stranger leaving that package on my doorstep?” you inquired, your tone laced with sarcasm. Nia’s grin widened. “I guess so. Perhaps they got a little mad after being called an embarrassment and were hoping to remind you of some positive memories.” she suggested. You playfully nudged her elbow. “Some insightful stranger they were.”

After your performance, the evening blossomed into an unforgettable night out with your team. The occasional teasing towards your past, fuelled by Nia’s humorous anecdotes, only added to the lively atmosphere. Everyone hit it off with Nia, and you were relieved that she decided to forgive you. The night was filled with music, and your teammates kept requesting your old songs to the DJ, who was gradually becoming visibly annoyed. It was heartwarming to witness everyone having such a great time, and it felt freeing to let your hair down and revel in the moment with your friends. As the night came to an end, you walked out of the bar with your arm around Ona, feeling grateful for the amazing people in your life.

#ona batlle #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso #muwfc x reader #espwnt x reader

[merv606]

Fluffy omegaverse! Daniel is happily married and pregnant, excited about about his and Terry's first pup...until he begins to gain weight and turn all plump and soft several months in. He's used to being slender and tiny, so this is all new. He keeps rebuffing Terry's advances and wearing loose clothing to hide his new figure, and hardly leaves their home. But what he doesn't know is that Terry is, if anything, even MORE turned on by Daniel's new curves and his cute omega chest and how squishy and adorable he's become lately. One day Terry catches him just finished with a bath, all damp and clean and rosy. But when Daniel sees him looking in and that expression on his face, he grabs a fluffy bathrobe to cover himself up and that's when Terry's control SNAPS. He carries him off to their bedroom, totally ignoring Daniel's protests. He's an Alpha, he knows what his little omega wants and needs better than he does--and he will show him. If he could he would put another pup in him, he looks so good...

Terry sits the fluffy bundle onto the bed, Daniel clutching the bathrobe together at the chest.

Terry kneels, one knee flat on the floor, the other up, his elbow resting on it as he looks at his mate.

Terry had thought he was just getting used to the changes his body was going through, and that he may even be uncomfortable - the only reason he was allowing Daniel to rebuff his attempts.

This though - this won’t do - this he will not tolerate.

His mate is beautiful to him all the time, but now, growing life inside him, life put there by Terry, so he will not have Daniel believe anything less than that.

And he will not longer be deprived of his mate in this state - Terry’s fingers itching to get his hands on his body and memorize the new softness and curves where sharp lines and bone used to be.

“Sweetheart, I’ve been letting you hide away, because I know the changes your body are going through are new but you aren’t to hide them away from me.

“And there is nothing to be ashamed of - your body is doing what it needs to do to provide for my pup.” He puts a finger under his chin forcing Daniel to look at him - “and that so the only thing that matters.”

“I like you that this as well.”

Daniel looks up at him suddenly.

“Being able to see what I’ve done to you - how your body is changing because of me ….

His grip on the robe loosens and Terry gently opens it, exposing the smooth tan skin hiding underneath.

“Now, we’re going to go out tonight, to your favourite place - I’ll be picking your outfit.”

He has not problem with Daniel wearing his clothes around the house - even if it is to hide the weight. He looks good in Terry’s clothes and he knows his little mate likes being surrounded by the safe smell of his alpha but he is going to start taking him out more - in outfits that are form fitting - Terry wants people to know as soon as they look at Daniel - what Terry has done to him.

Until then - he opens the bathrobe the rest of the way, small mounds where flat chest used to be, nipples swollen and a shade darker than normal.

He pinches at them, Daniel’s back arching, as he whimpers, pushing his thighs together in pleasure as Terry continues exploring them - cataloguing the changes in them. They’re thicker than normal and Terry knows they are textbook perfect for feeding their pup. He can’t wait until he starts producing from them.

The robe falls to his waist, leaving him totally exposed to his husband and Terry’s hands on his knees open his legs, Terry’s fingers creeping up to the warmth between them, the inviting wetness there.

“First I’m going to show you exactly how much I like you like this - in fact - I’ll probably have to keep you like this ….. you were made to be full of pups.”

Now I did have a story - You’re having My Baby - which is kind of touching on some similar themes (mainly chapter one - it was only supposed to be a one shot lol)

#ask #i got an ask 🤩 #daniel larusso #cobra kai #karate kid #terry silver #silverusso #silverrusso #ABO

[flowergrownbeyondthestone]

So far most of the things I’ve written here were leaning towards being majorly positive and somewhat optimistic, but I think I’m going to ruin this trend today. Despite trying my best to preserve my energy and recharge yesterday, I woke up feeling absolutely exhausted today. Even before I got to work it felt like I had 0 energy available and yet I still had to get through the day somehow. That on its own is not great, but worse days happen. That aside, lately I’ve been wondering why after a long streak of feeling quite good while working 3 days suddenly my energy level seems to be worse again and even getting through these 3 days can be challenging. Today I realized that this is the time around which I started to actually go out and socialize more. Wow. Great. So apparently if I spend 4 days of my weekend primarily isolating myself I can function at work, but if I decide to do more then well… the good time ends there. Or well, I still have a good time while being around others and doing stuff, but I’m absolutely suffering at work. I basically cried like two times today already and I’m temporarily feeling like I’m less of a person. Working part time and still unable to have fun without paying for it later. Still having to plan everything around my energy levels, with no clear idea of what should happen in the future. I didn’t choose any of this, but right now it’s hard for me not to feel like I’m failing at life. I know it’s not really my fault and the circumstances in my life have been less than optimal for a long while, but… I so fucking badly wish I could just function on a normal level without a ton of consideration and pushing myself beyond my limits. There’s so much frustration coming up because I feel like I’ve had to deal with things on my own basically my whole life. Of course I had different people supporting me, but it should never be their burden to carry, unfortunately at some points it was. My family has never really shown up for me, not in an emotional and present way at least. It still fills me with so much sadness and anger, in a way I feel simply abandoned because even though I am an adult and technically don’t need them, don’t we all want to have someone that’s going to be there no matter what happens? Normally family is. But not mine. I have to carry my burden, their burden and at the same time somehow not feel like I’m falling apart. I can absolutely see a good life for myself, but not when I constantly need to worry about earning a living and somehow not becoming an isolated cave hermit. I just want a break. I didn’t even get to enjoy my childhood and now I feel like I’m drowning in adult responsibilities while only just learning who I am and what I need. I wish I had a place to go where I could just exist for a while without everything hanging above my head. It just really doesn’t feel like it’s an option though, I’m alone in the country, I have no alternative source of income, I have virtually no support in that way and my biggest problems are strictly connected to the practical life shit (aka money, energy and time). I need some changes but how the fuck do I figure out what my life should look like when I can’t even find a way to get advice from anyone and I sure as hell can’t always do everything alone. Especially not when it comes to such major decisions and not having anything to fall back on. I don’t know. I just want to be able to allow myself to be weak and tired when I need to. Meanwhile one day after getting out of psych ward and the worst mental breakdown of my life I was already back at work and pushing further, cause what the hell am I supposed to do? I hate that reality. I didn’t ask for any of this mess and now it’s all mine to deal with

(Update, an hour and a bunch of chips and tears later): I feel much better now, cheers

Not that the issues are solved buuut. I’LL LIVE

[crimsoletta]

CW suicide ideation & personal VERY NEGATIVE & polarizing thoughts airing into the universe. To Organize my Thoughts Post-Realization of Whatever. Note #1

i don’t usually post here or anywhere personally to this degree

but i have nowhere to go (figuratively)

it’s too shameful to admit to anyone else what happened. to some people it’s not life shaking but it is right now for me.

i’ve burdened my close relative again. i’m going to be vague. I’m an adult a worthless one. i never realized i became one and even when i did realize. i really was pretending all along. everything feels like a facade for me suddenly. it must have been all along.

even as a facade, i never been committed. there’s nothing for me here and nothing i cared for enough not even myself. and everyone else takes the hit for me in that stead.

i’ve begun realizing ever since i was born i was a parasite and i never stopped being one. in some shape or form, i guess everyone starts off as being one. but i don’t think now that i ever stopped.

at most i’ve just been a sort of pet to drag around. not even the obedient type and not even one that you can tout around to people. i’ve just been the biggest bill for people a big investment for the affection and life fulfillment that no one actually wanted. i fell flat. i’m a dog with the lowest iq. the most unlovable and disposable one.

i lack any qualities that stand out that will allow me to stand on my own two feet. i actively choose to be passive and take no risks.

it’s been [redacted] years. people say it’s supposed to get better. I’ve barely lived. BUt people want me to be better now.

I’ve always been the chick stuck in its shell. if i don’t break out of the shell, i’ll die before i’ve ever lived. i refused to save myslef and everyone else is going to waste their lives for it.

this is my last chance to become something anything and i won’t even think twice about breaking my pattern. if anything i’m making revisions on top of it. I’m making it worse i’m regressing.

i often think. the only realities i am born are the ones my mother is unhappy. in any alternate reality only my sister is born, she has the option to divorce sooner. leave sooner. be free sooner. i was 7 more years and more. 7+ years more.

i should have been a miscarriage. i should have been stillborn. i should have been anything but myself. because that’s always going to be the worst version of me.

i used to have more notes i wrote terrible thoughts about myself though i don’t believe them to be unfounded at the moment. my self hatred was at the full time since middle school and into high school. things improved once i entered university.

but like she said… that self. that hope that i can improve motivated me to construct a false persona. the one that pretended she could handle anything. adult issues. it was never real. i could never be that ideal i constructed because there’s was never a desire or drive to be it.

i’ve grown reliant on others to push me where i lacked where i couldn’t.

i keep reading stuff on quora. i have nowhere else to go, so i go on google. i find quora because that’s the only place that phrases exactly my feelings to almost a T.

They are often right even if sometimes a bit general.

However, at the moment I do feel so wholly worthless and unchanged. I feel helpless and not at all in control of anything in my life. Something that’s not relevant in this situation directly but perhaps associated with this could be “learned helplessness”.

it’s all my fault. i can’t process that without shaming myself. all i’ve ever been was the embodiment of shame. even as i learned that i could be lovable. i still felt ashamed of that fact. why am i considered lovable. how could i possibly be lovable despite? how could i be worth it? when i mess up? when i never get better?

at least invest in someone better. someone who improves and learns from their mistakes. someone who gets up and keep running.

i have never done that. not in a way that matters. not in a way that’s consistent. not in a way that i could take charge and prove to others. i rely on them heavily because i see no other way. no other option. i never let myself grow any ego in a way that was productive.

#personal #vent #cw suicide ideation #note 1

[chaoticpuff17]

Suga We’re Going Down

Part 23

Masterlist

hello my darlings, sorry I haven’t been very active recently. I’ve been swamped with other things and had a serious case of writer’s block. I’ll be returning to my hermit hole after this but enjoy!---- chaotic puff

“You didn’t have to do that.” she whispered, her face looking slightly green. 

“I know.” Taehyung whispered back.  “Just keep walking.” 

“I think I’m going to be sick.” 

“Keep walking.” he gently rubbed her back, subtly propelling her forward in an attempt to get them out of the hospital before Yoongi realized what had happened and where he was standing and stormed after them. 

“I’m not supposed to be pregnant.” 

“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”  he promised, hurrying them to the car, not speaking again till they were safely on their way back to his place. “What do you want to do?” 

“I don’t know.” she groaned, leaning her head in her hands. “I have Eun Jae’s party today. I don’t even have time to consider what to do about this.” 

“Okay.” he nodded. “We’ll get Eun Jae and get through his party, and then we’ll figure out what to do after. Just focus on making it through today.” 

She glanced over at him gratefully. He was being far more gracious than she expected or deserved. They didn’t have the best history together. 

A manic little laugh bubbled up spilling out and causing Taehyung to look over at her curiously. 

“We don’t even have any clothes!” she leaned her head back against the headrest as she continued to laugh. “Everything we have is in an apartment he owns!” 

“I can get you new clothes.” he promised, not quite sure what to do with the near hysterical way the woman next to him was crying. It was unusual for her or at least for what he knew of her.

She was steady. She’d always had to be, and he’d  always admired her calm presence, how kind she was back when he was seeing her sister. This was something entirely other and arresting in just how much it contrasted from the Y/N he knew.  

There had been  her sister and grandmother to think of as they all struggled to keep afloat under her father’s dead weight, and of course after her sister had gone, there was Eun Jae. She’d molded herself to be what her family needed, a dependable provider, or as close to it as she could be given her age. She never allowed herself the fits of passion that her sister had been almost infamous for, so this borderline manic display of emotion was disconcerting for the both of them, and Taehyung didn’t know what to do. 

“I need to get rid of this ring.” he glanced down to see the ring that she was talking about glaring up at him from its position on her fourth finger. “I don’t think I can face him though.” 

“We can have it delivered to him. You never have to see him again if you don’t want to.” 

“How am I going to explain this to my family? Eun Jae loves him. Halmeoni loves him. This is going to be a disaster.” 

Taehyung couldn’t really argue with that. Her grandmother was a force to be reckoned with, and he didn’t envy her having to explain the situation to their son. He was only three, and having someone leave his life so suddenly wasn’t something he was going to understand, especially a person he loved. 

He had to wonder though why she’d even allowed Yoongi into the kid’s life. She’d admitted that her relationship with Min Yoongi was nothing more than a contract, so why had he been allowed to spend so much time with their child? Why was he allowed to grow attached? 

He didn’t have a foot to stand on there, he supposed. He had no custody or rights to Eun Jae. It was a miracle and a last resort that Y/N had come to him for help, and he hated that they had been put in that position to begin with. He hated that it took him running into her at a club for him to reach out and try to meet his son. There were a lot of things he regretted. How he had handled trying to connect with his son was one of them. He’d never meant to cause them more stress, and looking back he was mortified by how he’d handled things. It made him look like some sort of self entitled creep, especially considering how much she’s gone through to provide for their son. 

“He’s invited to the party today.” she whispered, leaning back in her seat. 

Taehyung released a breath. That was something he should have suspected, but he wasn’t happy about it. It wasn’t just annoying for him. It was dangerous for her.

“We’ll do our best to avoid him, and then you and Eun Jae never have to see him again. We’ll get you both a new apartment to stay in. I’ll get childcare for when you’re at school so that Eun Jae can be at home and not at your grandmother’s where Yoongi can get to him. We can even get you a new phone so he can’t contact you.” 

“Why are you doing all this for us?” 

“Because I wasn’t there all those years. I let my family keep me away from my kid, my son. We didn’t even do anything to help you take care of him.”

“So now you’re going to support him and this baby?”

He nodded, flashing her a little grin. “I’d like to, if you’ll let me.” 

“If you felt so bad, why did you never come looking for us? It’s not like we moved.” 

His smile turned sheepish. 

“I was dependent on my family’s fortune, but I’ve branched out, paved my own way now. They don’t have as much control. I can make it without them if I have to.” 

“They wouldn’t exactly disown you. You’re their only son.” 

His fingers tightened on the wheel. “Not quite.”  she glanced at him quizzically. “I have a brother, a half brother. If my father really wanted he could name him as the heir. He hasn’t wanted to because of the scandal, but Eun Jae might be a big enough one on his own to force his hand.” 

“You have a brother?” He hummed the affirmative, his brows knitted together. “Product of an affair. He’s a good kid, just not a kid I ever thought I’d have to know.” 

“I’m sorry.”

He glanced over at her slightly startled. “Why? You didn’t do anything.” 

“It can’t have been easy.” 

“Can’t have been easy raising Eun Jae.” 

“You know Halmeoni is going to throw a fit when she sees you.” 

They both winced. 

“Not totally undeserved. I haven’t exactly been the model son-in-law.”

“I don’t think any of us would have heard the end of it if you’d married Ha Jin. I’m honestly kind of glad that you didn’t. You’d have probably made each other miserable. You’re not my favorite person, but you didn’t deserve that.” 

Taehyung glanced over at her again to find her looking out the window, a somber expression on her face as her hand rested against her belly. 

“You and your sister are very different people.” her gaze flicked over to him inquisitively. “We were young, and I knew better. Honestly, I preferred hanging out with you to her. You seemed like the nicer sister.” 

“You and that whole crowd just seemed like bad news.” 

“I don’t think I’m that bad.” he defended himself.

“You were an entitled asshole up until about yesterday. You might still be, but you’re an entitled asshole that I’m very grateful for at the moment.” 

“I deserved that.” 

“Yeah. You did.” 

The two fell into silence as they continued the drive back to Taehyung’s home, both contemplating different things. There was a lot of things up in the air for both of them at the moment. Taehyung had just spent two billion won to buy her out of a mess she had gotten herself into in the hope that it would allow him to actually get to know his son. He’d been pushing for that for a while now, but he never imagined he’d also be getting the girl and another child in the deal. 

Truth be told he had started fooling around with Ha Jin back then simply for a good time and had continued the affair in the hopes of getting to know Y/N. She had very little interest in him though. Even back then she had been busy trying to help support the family and continue her education. Ha Jin had always been shallow, but her sister had had more depth, and she didn’t want anything from him which was a novelty considering his relationship with her sister. 

Even now, Y/N didn’t want anything from him. She’d come to him asking for a safe place to spend the night with their son while she tried to figure out what to do next. He was the one that had paid to get her out of the contract. He was the one offering the help. She still didn’t want anything from him, but she needed him, and it felt nice to be needed. 

They were tied together through Eun Jae. They always would be, but while he got to know his son better it also gave him an opportunity to know his mother. It gave him an opportunity to start a family outside of the battlefield his father had made their own, if she was willing. 

Y/N’s thoughts on the other hand were no less filled with thoughts of family, but hers were less hopeful. 

She knew very well that the party was going to be a disaster, she just hoped she could keep most of the carnage away from Eun Jae. The brunt of it would be hers to deal with. It was her mess after all. She never should have made the profile. She never should have signed the contract, but it was too late for that now. She had, and she was going to have to deal with the consequences of that choice. 

Her hand pressed a little more firmly against her belly. 

She wasn’t sure what she was going to do about the baby. She had savings. She’d been smart enough to squirrel away as much of the money she’d made from her contract with Yoongi as she could, but babies were expensive. Finding a new place to live was going to be expensive, and she already knew that her grandmother was going to insist on a wedding as soon as she found out about the baby. 

Yoongi was the perfect son-in-law in her eyes. While she wouldn’t be pleased about the baby being conceived before a wedding, she was going to be more than happy for her granddaughter to be married. She’d been anxious for that for a while now. She was getting older, and she wanted Y/N and Eun Jae settled. Her grandmother was a shrewd woman. She was aware that it wasn’t going to be easy to find a young man willing to marry her granddaughter when she was a single mother so Yoongi had seemed like a blessing. He was everything she could have hoped for for her granddaughter, and she wasn’t going to understand why they had had such a sudden falling out, and Y/N couldn’t tell her about the contract. It would break her heart. 

She was startled out of her thoughts as her phone buzzed, an incoming call from Yoongi. 

Quickly, she dismissed the call, unsure if it was the anxiety or the baby that was making her nauseous. 

Not even a minute later her phone was buzzing again, another call from Yoongi.

“You should turn that off. I don’t think he’s going to stop trying to call.” 

She looked over at Taehyung, her brows knitted together. “I know.” 

part 24

#bts #bts fic #bts fanfic #yandere bts #yandere suga #yandere yoongi #soft yandere #bts yoongi #bts suga #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #dark romance #suga we're going down #yandere #agust d #rapper yoongi

[somewhatgreatexpectations]

Rooftop Conversations (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader/ Yelena Belova)

Hi everyone!

This is a little shorter, but hope you all enjoy!

Summary: Reader shares a complicated history with Wanda. What will happen when Natasha introduces her sister to the problem? Who will reader end up with?

“Y/n.”

The closer you got the tower you called home; the more anxiety began to bubble in your chest. You had been away for over three months now and the entire time you were away Yelena refused to accept any of your calls. Admittedly they were few and far between due to circumstances, but the rare instances when you were able to get your hands on a phone, the other woman would always be miraculously busy.

You didn’t blame her.

Not in the slightest. Still, with every flimsy excuse Natasha gave you whenever you asked to speak to Yelena, you couldn’t help but feel that you were losing a part of yourself. Yelena was woven into your being and being shut off from her was something that was… entirely your fault.

It always made your heart ache though. To know she didn't want to even speak to you. To be away from her. There was so much about her you missed. Like her voice, her laugh, her jokes…

You just missed her.

“Y/n!” You jumped slightly and turned your attention to Steve who was glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Everything okay?”

All you managed was a weak nod as you focused back on the world around you. It was something you had to do often over the last few months. “Fine.” You replied, turning to face him as you awaited whatever it was he wanted to say.

“You can stop fidgeting with your necklace. We shut down all the bases. That’s all we could do.” He eventually said.

It wasn’t until Steve pointed it out that you realized that your fingers were fiddling absently with the charm that was hanging from the necklace Wanda had given you before you left. “What are you talking about?” you questioned, your brows furrowed in confusion.

Steve gestured broadly in your general area with one hand, while the other hand remained on the controls of the quinjet. “Whenever you get nervous you start fiddling with the necklace.” His hands returned to the controls as he shifted his attention. “Like a safety blanket.”

Grumbling absently, you folded your hands and looked out the window like a child who had just been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to. “Says the one with the pocket watch.”

In response, Steve shrugged. “Touché.”

You smirked and leaned back in your chair. “That’s what I thought." He chuckled. "Besides, I know we did all we could on the mission. I’ve come to terms with Dr. Wilkerson getting away, without his bases of support though he’s nothing.”

“Is that not what you were nervous about?” Steve prodded.

You shook your head. “I’m worried Yelena is going to hate me forever.” You admitted, your hand once again flying up to fiddle with the charm on your necklace.

Steve whistled lowly. “Still no word from her?” You shook your head again. “All you can do is be honest, kid. Earn her forgiveness. While you may have had good intentions, you lied. Even if it was to protect her. She reserves the right to be angry about it.”

“I know.” You replied. “I agree entirely, but… I don’t want to lose her. I can’t lose her. She-… She means… Everything to me.”

There was a moment of silence. “Do you love her?”

It had been months since you had allowed yourself time to think about the inner workings of your heart, yet the answer remained the same and came with no hesitation. “Yes.”

Steve nodded. “Does that mean you’re over Wanda then?”

The question took you by surprise and suddenly the pendant burned under your touch, like every nerve ending in your body went haywire. Overwhelmed with the thought of the two women that unabashedly occupied your heart. You feebly let your hand fall back to your lap.

Again, silence hovered in the air until, “No.” You replied softly, knowing it was the truth. Knowing you had no reason to lie to Steve.

Again, there was no hesitation in your answer.

“Sounds like you still have a lot to figure out then, kid.” Steve reached over and pat your shoulder sympathetically, “Between you and me though, I always thought you and Wanda would find your way back to each other. You’ve always been like magnets you two.” He admitted. “Natasha disagrees with me. She seems to think that you and Yelena are the most irritatingly perfect match. Her words not mine.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly. “You and Romanoff better not be placing bets on my love life again. You remember what happened last time, Rogers.” You warned with a point of your finger.

Steve chuckled and raised his hands innocently. “No bets were made. I’m just telling you the information.” He paused slightly. “Though I will say if it was a bet, I'd probably win since I did say Wanda would be the one to ask you out originally because you’d be too nervous to even get a word out. You won me fifty bucks that day.”

You punched his shoulder. “I can’t stand any of you.”

“That’s what families do.” You rolled your eyes and chose not to respond as you both distracted yourselves with your own tasks.

Just over an hour later Steve spoke again. “Hope you got enough thinking done because we’re touching down at the compound in five minutes.”

You sucked in a breath as the clouds opened up and the sharp points of the familiar building filled the sky before you.

Suddenly it was as if you blinked, and Steve was lowering the quinjet onto the waiting platform. “It’s good to be home.” You mumbled as you gathered what little you had and walked off the jet with Steve.

Before you could get far, you were met with an armful of someone else causing you to drop everything in your arms to catch the other person.

When the familiar floral scent invaded your senses, you quickly relaxed and held on tighter, relishing in the moment. The comfort that you hadn’t felt in months. “I missed you too, Wanda.” You whispered into her ear as you tucked your chin over her shoulder.

“You have no idea.” Wanda replied as you both held tightly to each other. You faintly heard Steve mumble how he would take your things inside for you, but his words barely registered as you familiarized yourself with the touch you hadn’t felt in months.

Suddenly, it felt like you were grounded again. Like you had been drifting freely and now, being back by her side you felt anchored again. Connected to the world in a way that mattered again.

Sure, you had managed to speak to Wanda briefly a handful of times over the course of your mission, but those sparse minutes were nothing compared to the sensation of actually being in her arms once again.

“It’s good to see you again.” You said leaning back slightly and taking in her every feature, every speck of color in her eyes. This was the longest you had gone without seeing her since the day you both met. “How did you know we were coming back? We wrapped up a few days early, I thought it would fly under the radar.”

Wanda smiled sheepishly back at you, and you couldn’t help the way your own lips pulled up endearingly at the sight. “I may have convinced Tony to program a new feature to FRIDAY that would let me know when you landed.”

A small chuckle of amusement slipped pat your lips. “Yeah? How did you manage that?”

“I may have pulled the Stark missile card.” Wanda answered with a small shrug.

“Didn’t know you couldn’t be so devious, Maximoff.” You teased as Wanda playfully dusted the invisible dirt off her shoulders.

That was when another voice interrupted the moment. “Really? You didn’t?” You turned your head to find the source of the interruption, though from the voice you knew exactly who it was. “I’ve known for a while now.”

Wanda pulled away from you and looked away, rubbing her own arm uncomfortably. “Nat,” You warned. “I just got back; can we not fight first thing?”

Natasha looked between you and Wanda for another moment as if she was contemplating her choices before opening her arms in silent invitation. “Fine, I’ll play nice. Sorry Maximoff.” Wanda nodded in acknowledgment. You suspected she was still terrified of the other woman.

You glanced at Wanda to be sure she was okay before walking over to your best friend and embracing her just as tightly, finding comfort in her embrace. Comfort in knowing that they were all okay while you were gone. That was all you could have wanted. You missed this. All of it.

Regardless of how chaotic it could be at times.

“I assume you didn’t manage to play nice while I was gone. No wonder I stayed away so long.” You said playfully as Natasha pinched you side. You swatted her hand and pulled away in protest. “Is this how you show how much you miss me?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, “Miss you being an idiot? Sure.” She nudged you playfully. “It’ll be nice to have you back though, the compound hasn’t felt the same without you.”

“It really hasn’t.” Wanda agreed, wincing when she saw the blank look Natasha gave her.

You shook your head, “Nothing has changed.” You lightly rested your forehead on Natasha’s, so she could focus on you, so she could hear the sincerity of your next words. “I did miss you, you know? No need to be snappy.”

Natasha finally cracked a smile. “I know, I missed you too.” She lightly nudged your nose with her own before pulling away and ruffling your hair.

You smiled back at her but couldn’t help but look over Natasha’s shoulder a moment later. If Natasha knew you were back, then it was only safe to assume that… “Is- Is Yelena in her room?”

Amusement began shining in Natasha’s eyes. “Couldn’t even go ten minutes without asking about her, could you?” Heat quickly rushed into your cheeks. “She’s on a mission with Clint, should be back later today. Just light recon about a minor disturbance a few cities over.”

“Surprised you let her go without you.” You mumbled, already anticipating the moment of Yelena's return, mentally preparing all the ways you could earn her forgiveness.

“Tony had me on a separate assignment until this morning.” Natasha explained. “Besides, she’s with Barton, they’re both in good company. Safe.”

You nodded, if Natasha wasn’t worried then you had no reason to either. “I-” You lowered your voice. “Will you let me know when she’s back? Don’t tell her I’m here until I get a chance to talk to her, please, I don’t want her to avoid me anymore. I want to apologize. To make it up to her.”

Natasha analyzed you for a moment, analyzed your pleading tone before nodding. “I’ll give you this one shot because I know you only did what you did to protect her... I would have done the same.” She looked over your shoulder before looking back at you. “Now, I think I’ll head inside. We can catch up later. Don’t do anything that will make me have to kick your ass.” She warned.

Before you could utter a reply, your best friend had disappeared into the compound. “She actually talked to me once while you were gone. It was about a mission report, but still, she’s not ignoring me anymore.” You heard Wanda say from behind you.

You chuckled slightly as you turned to face her again, gesturing for her to follow behind you. “That’s actually great news to hear. I miss being able to spend time with both of you.” You leaned against the railing of the landing pad and let the wind traveling through the air be the only sound for a moment.

Wanda mimicked your position, her arms brushing yours, your own pinky shifting slightly to be in contact with hers.

It was like Steve said, there was something magnetic about you both and it felt even stronger after the separation. You couldn’t help but feel like you wanted to be closer. Your free hand raised to fidget with the charm on the necklace nervously.

“Still wearing the necklace, I see.” Wanda noted, her eyes shining happily in the light of day.

A faint blush quickly spread over your cheeks, and you managed a weak nod, your hand once again falling from the charm. “Steve says it’s my safety blanket.”

Wanda’s smile widened. “I didn’t know if you’d even use it since you had given it back to me after we broke up.”

You shrugged halfheartedly. “We’re past that. It represents more now. It represents you.” The sound of Wanda’s breath hitching caught your attention and you couldn’t help but feel your heart hammer in your chest. You just hoped she would change the subject, the vulnerability felt all too much in that moment. "It was nice to have on the mission."

“How did the mission go? I assume well since both you and Steve are back in one piece.” Wanda eventually asked, breaking the charged silence much to your relief. She always was good at reading your wants.

You nodded faintly, eagerly responding to the change of topic. “It did. We shut down every base we set out to, which was all of them.” You could see the happy smile form on Wanda’s lips, and you continued. “We did everything we set out to do except catch Dr. Wilkerson.”

Wanda’s smile fell almost immediately. She knew Dr. Wilkerson was your greatest enemy, your greatest fear. “Are you okay?” As the last word fell from her lips, her pinky moved to rest over yours, as if she herself wanted to be closer. To comfort you.

In response you turned you hand over in silent invitation and Wanda accept the offer immediately, her fingers tangling naturally with your own. “I feel okay, Steve still thinks we can catch him. He won’t get too far… I know he wants to take me back.” Wanda’s fingers tightened against yours. “Don’t worry, without the bases, without his minions? He’s nothing. Powerless. It’s only a matter of time.”

“The day he tries to come after you will be his last.” Wanda said seriously, her eyes darkening at the mere thought. “He won’t hurt you again, Y/n.”

You squeezed her hand, you knew Wanda would never hurt anyone, but her protective nature may change that. You’d never want to put her in that position. “I know, Wands. Don’t worry, Steve and I will find him. I’ll be okay.”

Her lips turned up faintly. “I know, I’ll be here to make sure of it. I’ll protect you, Y/n.”

“And even though you're infinitely stronger than me, I will protect you.” Wanda giggled slightly and you smiled back at her.

For a moment you both just stared at one another, allowing yourselves to get lost in the moment, moving closer and closer until you could feel her breath fan across your lips. You quickly looked away. Not ready to take that step. Not ready to ruin the leaps and bounds of progress you had made with her.

“Now fill me in on what I missed while I was gone.” You said in hopes of brushing over the minor traces of awkwardness that lingered in the air.

That was how both you and Wanda spent the remainder of the day, catching up on everything that had happened in the last few months, the hours slipping away with ease. There was only one thing that could ruin a relaxing evening like that.

And it was the sight of a smaller quinjet landing a few feet away. Your heart began hammering in your chest because the only other ones out on a mission were Yelena and Clint.

The woman that had occupied your mind so deeply was now just seconds away from you.

Except when the doors to the quinjet opened and Clint was the only one to step out, looking battered and bruised. Your stomach dropped at the sight.

You ran over, Wanda following closely behind. “Clint, where is Yelena?”

It was like Clint had just seen a ghost, his eyes widening even more than they already were. “Where is Natasha?”

“Whe-”

“WHERE IS NATASHA!” He yelled, his voice reverberating in the air around you.

Bile climbed up your throat in tandem with the panic you felt squeeze at your chest as the three of you ran into the compound in search of the other woman.

A few moments later you found her lounging in the main room of the compound with a notebook in her hands. Natasha immediately looked up when she heard the sound of panicked footsteps enter the room. “Clint, what-”

Clint quickly interrupted her, his panicked expression making you sick as you anticipated his next words.

“They took her. They took Yelena.”

And just like that, the world stopped.

And that's all folks! This chapter was more of a set-up for the unraveling of the remainder of this story which I now know will be 12 parts total. Sorry for no Yelena in this part. As always, thoughts and comments are always welcome!

Previous part: "Necessary Lies"

Masterlist: "Omen"

Tag list:

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#wanda maximoff #wanda #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x reader

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt: WWX is one of JGS's bastard sons, raised by his mother and her husband - until they die when he's young. Then he gets taken into the Jin sect instead of the Jiang.

Right Hand Man - ao3

It was a bad day.

All the days were a little bad, but this one was especially bad.

“He’s Cangse Sanren’s child,” Jin Zixuan’s father said, tapping his fan against his palm so that he would look more like a scholar. Secretly, shamefully, Jin Zixuan thought that it didn’t really work – he just looked like one of those scoundrels that tried to pay for their meals with calligraphy instead of pennies. “Taking him in will show our strength.”

“You dare bring one of your bastard children here,” Jin Zixuan’s mother said, “and I will drown A-Xuan myself rather than let him suffer through the shame of it.”

Jin Zixuan shivered. No matter how many times he heard his mother say that in her cold and vicious voice, he never got used to it. She’d explained to him that it was the only thing that might work on his father – the fear of losing face like that, of shaming his ancestors, of cutting off his legitimate line – and she was his mother so of course Jin Zixuan believed her, but sometimes when she said it like that he thought she might really go ahead and do it.

“It’s the immortal mountain,” his father argued, ignoring the threat. “The perceived connection is only to our benefit…and anyway, he wouldn’t be legitimized or anything. Legally, his father is that Wei Changze – I could even bring the boy in as a servant if that pleased you more!”

“Nothing you say or do will ever please me,” she said, and that’s when she started throwing things and he started shouting and Jin Zixuan waited until they weren’t paying any attention to him before slipping out.

They’d make a decision one way or another.

It didn’t have anything to do with him.

-

Wei Wuxian was nominally brought in as a guest disciple, but everyone knew he was really a servant.

Jin Zixuan’s mother made sure everyone knew.

Despite this, Wei Wuxian smiled at everyone, seeming as carefree as a butterfly. It didn’t seem to bother him when he wasn’t allowed to wear sparks amidst snow, or even the usual gold of the guest disciples – Jin Zixuan’s mother said that it was better that he wear plain colors, like white or black, to represent his father and mother and show the world that he hadn’t forgotten his filial piety. It didn’t seem to bother him that he had to room with the other servants, or that he wasn’t invited to dinner at the same time as the rest of them, or that he got less training time –

Whatever it was, it didn’t bother him.

It bothered Jin Zixuan, though.

He started having the old nightmares again – the ones where his mother belatedly found out that he’d been swapped in the cradle for another bastard child of Jin Guangshan, and started treating him just the way she treated all the rest of them while praising some other boy up to the heavens – and his temperament, never considered especially good, got worse due to lack of sleep.

“Go talk to him,” Mianmian suggested. “Maybe if you see he’s reallynot bothered by it…”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s not bothered,” Jin Zixuan muttered. “It’s that I would be bothered if I were him.”

She didn’t understand, of course. Most people didn’t.

They couldn’t understand why Jin Zixuan was so bothered by the knowledge that his parents’ love was conditional on his bloodline and legitimacy – after all, he was the beneficiary of that bias, wasn’t he? What did it matter to him if they were cold to others?

Jin Zixuan didn’t know how to explain that the problem was in knowing that their love was conditional.

It didn’t help that Wei Wuxian was excelling despite all his disadvantages – all their teachers praised him in private, or else when they thought that no one surnamed Jin was listening. All of his mother’s dark speculations about what his father would do if ever there was a bastard child brought back that turned out to be even more talented than he was rang in Jin Zixuan’s ears, and he couldn’t help but look at Wei Wuxian, and wonder if this was it, this was the moment, if he was finally going to be replaced…but no, that would never happen. He was the one with the right blood.

It didn’t matter if he wasn’t actually the best.

Nothing he did in life mattered, really. Nothing had ever mattered since the day he’d been born from the right womb.

“He’s actually really nice,” Mianmian said, and Jin Zixuan looked up, wondering what she was talking about, only to blanch when he realized that she was talking to Wei Wuxian. “Just shy, that’s all –”

“Mianmian!” Jin Zixuan hissed, rushing over, horrified. “He can’t be here! If my mother finds out –”

“Is that what you’re afraid of?” Wei Wuxian asked, his face brightening. “I thought you just didn’t like me!”

“I don’t know you,” Jin Zixuan said. “How could I dislike you? But really, my mother –”

“We can be friends!” Wei Wuxian declared, and Jin Zixuan was rendered immediately mute. What exactly could he say to that?

He wanted to be friends, too.

-

His mother found out, because she always found out, and when she did, she threatened to feed Wei Wuxian to the dogs.

It turned out that Wei Wuxian was scared of dogs, something Jin Zixuan’s mother had figured out pretty quickly. That wasn’t a surprise – she knew best how to find people’s weaknesses, and also how to use them. Looking at Wei Wuxian’s sickly pale face, it was clear to Jin Zixuan that this wasn’t the first time dogs had appeared in one of his mother’s punishment, although this was clearly more severe than in the past.

“It was my idea,” he lied, acting on impulse. “Mother, I want him to be my personal servant.”

“Ridiculous,” she scoffed.

“Why is it ridiculous?” he asked. “Wouldn’t the contrast between us only be magnified that way?”

She pursed her lips, but that wasn’t a ‘no’.

Seeing a possible waver, Jin Zixuan decided to trade away one of the very few point on which he and his mother had long disagree.

“He’s charming,” he said. “He can help me woo the Jiang sect girl.”

His mother knew him well enough to know that he was trying to manipulate her, but he also knew that she liked it when he did that. Men were supposed to be upright, straightforward, and virtuous, and yet she liked to see him being subtle and sly – it reminded her of herself. It made her feel like he was more her blood than his father’s, even though in actuality those traits could very well be his father’s, too.

Unfortunately, sneakiness wasn’t really in Jin Zixuan’s nature. Comparing his straightforward and even a little stupid self to his clever and cunning parents, he didn’t know who he took after – it was part of the reason he had so many nightmares about being some cuckoo’s child left in the Jin sect’s nest.

“Fine,” his mother said at last. “He gets one shot.”

Later, when she’d swept off, an empress with her retinue, Mianmian looked at Jin Zixuan with wide eyes. “But Jin-gongzi,” she said. “You don’t wantto marry the Jiang sect girl.”

“I’ve never met her,” Jin Zixuan hedged, which was also true but a little vaguer. He didn’t want to marry a girl he’d never met, one who was several years his elder and who had been described to him only as ‘nice’ and ‘average at best’, just because her mother was his mother’s old friend. He didn’t want his marriage to be yet another thing he had to do because he was someone’s child, rather than his own man.

He wasn’t going to get a choice, though, no matter what he did, just as always. Might as well use it for something good.

Wei Wuxian crashed into him a moment later, clutching him so tightly that it hurt.

“I’ll pay you back,” he promised, his voice tight. “I’ll make it up to you. I’ll be your best friend ever!”

“That’s good enough,” Jin Zixuan said, his face suddenly hot. “There doesn’t need to be anything more.”

-

Wei Wuxian really was very charming when they went to visit the Lotus Pier, far more charming than Jin Zixuan ever was or would be, and his future bride seemed positively enchanted by him, which was probably a bad thing.

Jin Zixuan felt he should probably do something about it, but he didn’t know what, so he just snuck off and went to go dip his feet into the river, something he almost never got the chance to go while at home.

“I’m sorry,” the Jiang sect heir, Jiang Cheng, said, sitting gingerly next to him.

Jin Zixuan looked at him sidelong, a little surprised. He’d thought that Jiang Cheng hated him. “What for?”

“My sister. Your half-brother.” Jiang Cheng looked uncomfortable. “I can’t even imagine growing up with someone who’d flirt with the person I was engaged to.”

Jin Zixuan thought it over, then shook his head. “I don’t think he likes her like that. Or her him, either,” he said, since it seemed like Jiang Cheng had misunderstood both Wei Wuxian and his own sister. “Wei Wuxian’s just – like that,” he added. “Always. Everyone loves him unless they’re specifically told not to.”

“That’s worse.” Jiang Cheng wrinkled his nose. “He’s the ‘other person’s child’ here, you know. My father really liked his parents – he’s always talking about him. My mother says he wishes he were his son, instead of your father’s.”

“Now that sounds awful.” Probably better for Wei Wuxian, though. Jiang Fengmian would probably treat him like a real son, not the way Jin Guangshan did, like a pawn or a liability or a bastard brought in just for his possible connections – but it would probably be much worse for Jiang Cheng, who’d have to live with that happening right in front of him. It seemed mean to wish for such a thing. “He’s actually pretty nice? We’re friends. I asked him to help me make friends with your sister…I’m not really good at making friends, when it’s just me.”

He hadn’t expected them to hit it off that well, though. At least to Jin Zixuan’s eyes, they’d clearly all but adopted each other as brother and sister the moment they laid eyes on each other…which in his opinion was actually a little bit worse, since he felt like he himself was still painfully trying to figure out what being a sibling was like, and maybe failing at it.

And in all honesty, he felt a little resentful at Wei Wuxian for being picked, too – or was it a little bereft? No one ever picked him just because they wanted to; it was all because of who he was.

Who his parents were.

“I can be your friend, too, if you like,” Jiang Cheng said. He was scowling into the distance. “A better one.”

“Uh,” Jin Zixuan said, startled. “Don’t you – not like me?”

“We’re friends now,” Jiang Cheng scowled at him. “Deal with it!”

-

Jin Zixuan liked Wei Wuxian a lot, and he liked Jiang Cheng, too, and Nie Huaisang, who he’d just met, fit in with the two of them as if they were three peas in a pod, so he guessed he must like him, too – but if those three endlessly chattering idiots didn’t shut up and let him study he was going to throw himself off some cliff in Gusu and be done with it.

“You really don’t mind me sitting here?” he asked Lan Wangji, who nodded.

Nodded and did not respond verbally – blissful silence!

Still, Jin Zixuan lingered a bit by the door to the peaceful little pavilion he’d found and thought to claim for himself as a secret study place – necessary on account of the fact that Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, and Nie Huaisang spent all their free time together making trouble instead of studying, because Wei Wuxian just did that to people, winning them over despite themselves and then leading them into mischief – only to learn that it belonged to Lan Wangji. It was filled with gentians, which were more Jiang Cheng’s color than Jin Zixuan’s, but Jin Zixuan had seen enough peonies for a lifetime and needed the concealment besides.

It was very kind of Lan Wangji to let him stay, but he still felt he ought to apologize.

And not just for the intrusion.

Wei Wuxian’s ignominious departure from Lan Qiren’s classroom had made it much more peaceful, but that had come at a cost to Lan Wangji’s own education and opportunity to make friends with others – and while Jin Zixuan liked Wei Wuxian a great deal, he wasn’t sure how Lan Wangji felt about being stuck having to monitor him all day.

And now Lan Wangji was being nice to Jin Zixuan, letting him disturb his privacy like this without complaint, and even agreeing to let him stay so that he’d have somewhere quiet to study…he really ought to say something. Maybe apologize for Wei Wuxian, if that was appropriate. It probably was: he was responsible for him, in his own way. The only problem was that he wasn’t sure how to start the conversation –

“Do you like Wei Wuxian?” he blurted out, then felt his face go bright red. He hadn’t meant to ask it that way! After all, who didn’t know how much Lan Wangji disliked Wei Wuxian? He was always glaring at him and saying he was speaking nonsense and telling him to get lost and –

Lan Wangji nodded.

Jin Zixuan blinked. He did? But then why –

“Oh,” he said, suddenly realizing. “You’re socially awkward, too!”

Lan Wangji frowned at him, and Jin Zixuan waved his hands.

“No, no, I don’t mean that as an insult,” he said hastily, trying to cover for his blunder. “It’s like me! I always say the wrong thing, so most of the time I try not to say anything – of course people always get the wrong idea anyway, thinking I’m being quiet because I’m looking down at them…Wei Wuxian’s getting better at understanding people, but he’s still not very good at it, either. I bet he has no idea! If you like him, you should say as much.”

Lan Wangji shook his head.

“…I could say it for you, if you want?”

Even more urgent head-shaking.

Honestly, if Lan Wangji were a woman, Jin Zixuan would’ve thought that he had a crush.

As it was, he was probably just like Jin Zixuan: naturally awkward, and shy about it, too.

“It’s all right,” he said encouragingly. “Next time they throw a party, you can come and sit with me; we can have tea and pretend not to know them. It’s what I always do.”

Lan Wangji stared at him for a long moment, and then finally nodded very slowly.

“I appreciate the offer,” he said, voice neutral. “Thank you.”

-

When the time came and the Wen sect pushed things too far, naturally Jin Zixuan stood up for Mianmian.

Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, and Lan Wangji all did, too.

Naturally, this made Jin Zixuan feel like complete crap on their account – Mianmian was his friend, his sect, and naturally he had a responsibility towards her; the rest of them were just helping because they were good people, and good friends. But at this point they’d done it, and Wen Chao was angry at them all over it, and there was nothing to be done about it.

And then there was the Xuanwu of Slaughter, and they were all trapped inside with it.

Sometimes, he really hated the Wen sect. Often, even.

“Jiang Cheng, you and Jin Zixuan lead the way out,” Wei Wuxian instructed. “No, don’t protest! You’re heirs of Great Sects; everyone will follow you and listen to you, and that’s critical – you’ll need to evade the Wen sect’s efforts to recapture you. That means cohesion, and cohesion means hierarchy. I’ll stay behind to distract the Xuanwu…”

“That’s a terrible idea,” Jiang Cheng exclaimed.

Jin Zixuan nudged him. “Wei Wuxian’s usually right about this sort of thing,” he reminded him. It was a good thing they’d gotten over that period in their lives when Jiang Cheng thought Wei Wuxian was an evil thief who wanted to take away his older sister and Jin Zixuan’s rightful spouse, when they’d fought all the time while Jin Zixuan desperately tried to get between them. He still had no idea what magic alchemy had happened that had suddenly made them best friends – he suspected Mianmian, or maybe Jiang Yanli – but he was deeply grateful for it. “And we can’t risk the majority. Preserve human life above all else, remember? Teacher Lan’s lessons were very clear.”

“I will remain with Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said, to no one’s surprise. They’d been more or less inseparable after Jin Zixuan had recruited Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang to help them get along better after Wei Wuxian’s temporary exile to the Library Pavilion had ended. It helped that Lan Qiren had pulled Wei Wuxian aside for personal lessons to help him catch up with the rest of them, and that those had somehow metamorphosed into afternoon sessions about inventing new types of musical cultivation techniques in which Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were the most enthusiastic, and only, students.

Best of all, it had given the rest of them a chance to finally actually do their work.

Well, not Nie Huaisang, but that was only to be expected.

“But your leg –” Wei Wuxian started, and Jin Zixuan nudged him.

“He’ll only be more worried if you don’t let him stay back and join you,” he said reasonably. “Anyway, it’s good for you to have an incentive not to detour into some big flashy heroic bullshit.”

“Awww, but Jin Zixuan, I like big flashy heroic bullshit!”

Jin Zixuan was, by this point, almost entirely convinced that Wei Wuxian actually was the biological child of Wei Changze, and that his father had lied, both about the man’s supposed infertility and possibly about having slept with Cangse Sanren at all. From Jiang Cheng’s stories, inherited from his father, it seemed that Wei Changze was also the sort of person who went in for big flashy heroic bullshit and reckless humor, the sort that would win him a disciple of an immortal mountain as a bride; it certainly seemed more likely than him sharing blood with Jin Zixuan or his father or even Jin Zixun, all of whom tended towards arrogance, but whose flash was all in their clothing.

Not that it mattered at this late date, of course. They were brothers now – as Nie Huaisang would put it, there were no takebacks allowed.

“No bullshit, you hear me?” Jin Zixuan repeated, looking pointedly at Wei Wuxian. “Not allowed. Take care of yourself, okay? Don’t make me have to tell Mistress Jiang that I lost her favorite idiot friend.”

“You tell her?” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “I’ll have to tell her. All right, let’s go.”

-

Jiang Yanli was not impressed with the fact that they’d left Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji alone in a cave with a giant murderous turtle.

She still made them soup and gave them bandages to wrap up their bloody feet, though.

(Jin Zixuan was never going to make a good impression on her, no matter what Jiang Cheng said.)

-

“Wen Chao has demanded recompense for the mess at the Nightless City,” Jin Zixuan’s mother said, reading a letter. Her lips curled up in a strange little smile. “He said Wei Wuxian’s right hand would do.”

“Mother,” Jin Zixuan exclaimed, leaping to his feet with his eyes wide. He’d only been home a week from the indoctrination camp, and Wei Wuxian was still lying in bed most of the time, pretending he wasn’t exhausted; Wen Chao must have sent the letter almost immediately after he’d realized they’d escaped. “You can’t be serious!”

“Why not?” she asked. “It’s just what the little bastard deserves, always trying to outshine you.”

Jin Zixuan shook his head, frantically trying to think of a way out of this, because he knew his mother wouldn’t so much as hesitate to order such an atrocity. She’d never forgiven Wei Wuxian for the possibility of being a threat to Jin Zixuan’s position, however remote the chance, and she’d tried very hard to convince Jin Zixuan of it, too – it was the only thing they didn’t agree on, the only thing Jin Zixuan didn’t yield to her on, and he hated every moment of it.

But not as much as his mother hated it.

It was the only thing she couldn’t control in his life, and she hatedit, and hated Wei Wuxian for it, too.

(She couldn’t hate Jin Zixuan. She couldn’t, because he had the right blood, because he was her son, because he was the heir of Lanling Jin and the source of all her power. But sometimes, when the light was dim and she glanced over too quickly and thought she saw his father when she looked at him, he thought that she wanted to.)

“You can’t be serious,” Jin Zixuan said a second time, keeping calm by sheer willpower. No one but him would dare to object if his mother made a move, especially in his father’s absence…and even if his father was there, Jin Zixuan wasn’t sure his father cared enough about Wei Wuxian to endure another fight with his fearsome wife. “Mother, he’s my servant – my responsibility. Whatever he does is my responsibility, whether to my credit or to my deficit. That’s how that works. They may be asking for Wei Wuxian’s hand, but who’s to say, when they come to claim it, that they won’t seek mine instead?”

“They wouldn’t dare.”

“It’s the Wen sect,” Jin Zixuan reminded her. “What don’t they dare?”

She pursed her lips, thinking it over, and for a moment he thought he’d won. “Perhaps,” she allowed, and before he could even breath a sight of relief continued, “But no matter. They’ve set the price, and we can pay it, so why not? We can cut off his hand and send it to them as a peace offering in advance. After all, they’re important allies of ours, and he’s just a bastard.”

“But –”

“No, A-Xuan. No more arguing; I’ve decided.” Her smile broadened. “We’ll do it now.”

Jin Zixuan couldn’t fight with his mother. He’d never had the courage – he was as spineless as his father.

Almost as spineless.

“Yes, Mother,” he said, and drew his sword.

“A-Xuan..?”

“My servant, my responsibility,” he reminded her, and he knew that she’d misunderstood, that she thought that he was going to go take care of the grim task himself. He knew, because for a brief moment in time she looked happy – not true joy, but the only way she ever looked happy for as long as he could remember, like she’d won one over on someone and gotten her way despite everyone’s efforts. He hated to disappoint her. “I have my honor to think of, too.”

-

Jin Zixuan sent Wei Wuxian to the Lotus Pier, bearing words of warning. His father’s spies had reported that the Wen sect would probably target them first, using Jiang Cheng’s interference in the Xuanwu cave as an excuse – there wasn’t any point going after the Lan sect a second time, and the Jin sect were longstanding allies of Wen Ruohan, with Jin Guangshan being a coward at heart; if Wen Ruohan could keep him out of the inevitable war for a little longer by playing nice, he would.

Word came back not long after that they’d been right: the Lotus Pier had been destroyed.

It also said that Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli were missing – missing, but not dead. It didn’t say anything about their parents, and that was suspicious, too.

Maybe sending Wei Wuxian had helped after all.

“We should reach out to the Nie sect,” Jin Zixuan told his father. “With our money and their strength, we can resist the Wen sect long enough for the smaller sects to catch up.”

“The Wen sect is all-powerful,” his father objected. “What’s even the point of resisting? We’d be better off reaching out to them to see if we can reach a peaceful agreement.”

“We’ve already seen what agreement they want to reach,” Jin Zixuan said, and his father’s gaze dropped guiltily to his waist. Jin Zixuan didn’t bother looking down himself. He didn’t do that much, these days. “Am I your heir or am I not? You promised me that I’d inherit a sect, not slavery. Reach out to the Nie sect.”

Jin Zixuan should not talk that way to his father. He had always been a filial son, and a spineless one; his father’s son, and nothing else. The only thing he had going for him was the right blood – and even that wasn't that sure a bet, these days. He knew his father was already thinking about Jin Zixun in a way that suggested that all those rumors about his ‘cousin’ having a different father than the one everyone said he had might have some merit.

It seemed, though, that when pushed to it, he was also his mother’s son.

He hoped she choked on the knowledge.

“Reach out to the Nie sect,” he said again. “With all the cultivation world uniting, the Wen sect’s fall is inevitable. If we don’t act now, we’ll be seen as cowards, hanging back and waiting to see how things fall out to eke out the best advantage – if we act, we’ll be seen as heroes.”

“But what if you’re wrong, and the Wen sect does win?”

“Then we’ll tell Sect Leader Wen that we’re perfectly positioned to negotiate the other sects’ terms of surrender, and use that to win anyway,” Jin Zixuan said, less because he thought that was an acceptable course of action and more because he knew it would be what his father would do anyway. “Call the Nie sect.”

-

“I’m going to kill you,” Jiang Cheng hissed, wild-eyed, and Jin Zixuan blinked at him, taken aback.

“Is it because I wasn’t able to do more to help with the Lotus Pier?” he asked, feeling helpless. “I really did try to convince my father to send more people, but I barely even got him not to block my sending Wei Wuxian –”

“Not because of that!”

Jin Zixuan took a step back. “Uh, then –”

“You cut off your own hand you maniac!”

“The situation –” Jin Zixuan started backing up. “It was necessary – Wei Wuxian, help!”

“No, he’s right,” Wei Wuxian said, arms crossed. His eyes were teary, but they’d been that way since he’d left Jinlin Tower – ever since the Wen sect’s letter. “You’re a maniac, and Jiang Cheng’s going to kill you, and you’re going to deserve it.”

Lan Wangji, standing beside him, nodded.

“It’s not that bad, really.” Jin Zixuan tried to explain. “My mother and father would never have accepted anything else – threats to me are the only thing that work on them, and even that’s stopped working after all these years. Only a real injury would have an impact. If they hadn’t been so shocked, they would’ve just continued to ignore what the Wen sect was doing, or offered them an olive branch, and then then the Wen sect would’ve used that as an opportunity to come and divide up everyone else. We’d lose precious time to regroup, and the Wen sect would only get stronger and stronger –”

“You. Cut. Off. Your. Hand!”

“The Wen sect demanded the hand of the person who started the rebellion in the Xuanwu cave,” Jin Zixuan said quietly. “That was me, not Wei Wuxian. Why should he pay my debts?”

Everyone still seemed very upset, but maybe a little less murderous. Definitely a lot more teary-eyed.

“Couldn’t you have at least picked your other hand?” Wei Wuxian mumbled. “Your right hand – that’s your sword arm.”

Jin Zixuan shrugged. “They demanded the right hand,” he said. “Anyway, it’s fine, I’ve been using my left, and it’s been going smoothly enough…you know, I think I might actually be left-handed? I never knew; everyone always made me use my right.”

“Does it hurt?” Lan Wangji asked suddenly, and Jin Zixuan hesitated, not sure how to respond to that.

Unfortunately, everyone else took that in the worst way possible, and insisted on taking care of him, no matter how much he tried to explain that it didn’t hurt, not really, not anymore; it was just the strangest feeling of absence. Like something that had always been there wasn’t there anymore.

A bit like his mother. She wasn’t talking to him anymore.

He was a terrible son, and would probably end up spending eternity in some afterlife hell being tortured for failing to properly honor his parents.

He’d already resigned himself.

“How are your parts of the war going?” he asked, trying to change the subject. “Chifeng-zun says it’s going well, but you know how he is; it’s all business with him, you never hear any stories. Did Wei Wuxian really knock out old Sect Leader Jiang when he refused to leave the Lotus Pier? Tell me he didn’t.”

“He did,” Jiang Cheng said, and he looked amused about it – maybe he’d be in the next boiling pot over in the afterlife of unfilial descendants. “He was a little frantic, you see, on account of not wanting to fail you by letting them die. After all, you had just cut off your own hand for him…”

“Are you ever going to let that drop?”

“Sure. As soon as you have two hands again.”

“…so, never.”

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng said patiently. “Never. Never ever, if that makes it clearer for you.”

-

Jin Zixuan’s new hand was made of steel and wire, under the gilding, and functioned using some of the innovative new talismans that Wei Wuxian had invented. He couldn’t help but hope that they weren’t part of the subset that constituted demonic cultivation because people were being really weird about that.

“It’s like people wanted for me to just die in the Burial Mounds,” Wei Wuxian complained. He was dressed in black and grey and red, which he’d apparently adopted as his new sect colors – Jin Zixuan had only managed to send him out of Lanling the first time by officially ejecting him from the Jin sect, a decision his father had initially endorsed but now, he suspected, was regretting.

It was a lot easier to throw out a servant than it was to invite back the founder of demonic cultivation, especially now that he was a war hero and a sect leader.

“You didn’t have to be in the Burial Mounds to begin with,” Jin Zixuan reminded him, to no avail. “I know I said I needed an army because my father wasn’t supplying us properly, but I didn’t mean ‘invent an entirely new cultivation technique and raise an army of the dead’. You know that, right?”

Wei Wuxian shrugged it off, because of course he did.

“You know, they’re calling me the Yiling Patriarch?” he said, and grinned. “It’s because the Burial Mounds are in Yiling, and because I’m founding my own sect. Or whatever. Like I wouldn’t be supporting you, anyway.”

“It has to be your own sect because otherwise you might be forced to share your secret techniques,” Jin Zixuan explained, not for the first time. “Rogue cultivators don’t have the same protections that sects do, even small sects. It doesn’t matter if you’re the only person in it. Or, well, you and Lan Wangji, I guess.”

“I still can’t believe he’s willing to leave the Lan sect to join me,” Wei Wuxian sighed happily. “He’s such a good friend.”

Jin Zixuan wasn’t sure about the strength of his new hand, which was the only reason he didn’t try to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. “You’re a bad influence, you know,” he said instead of trying to explain to Wei Wuxian that people didn’t generally leave their natal sects for the sake of a ‘good friend’. “I nearly hit a girl the other day.”

“You did? You? What’d she do?”

“She gave me soup and implied that she’d made it,” Jin Zixuan said. “Except it tasted exactly the same as the soup Mistress Jiang is always making for you – I’ve had it recently enough to know. Sure enough, I push the issue a bit and it turns out it was Mistress Jiang’s. The girl was just trying to claim credit as an excuse to get close to me.”

He sighed. He’d been so angry about it. They were at war! People were dying, losing their homes, losing everything, and this stupid girl could only think about how to plot and scheme to try to get to a prized position as the future Madame Jin. Had his mother done the same, when it’d been his father…?

“You’ve had shijie’s soup recently?” Wei Wuxian asked. His expression looked slightly odd. “Shijie made you soup?”

“Yeah, I think she’s been dropping off whatever’s left over at my tent when she’s done,” Jin Zixuan said, shaking his head. Jiang Yanli was so nice, really truly genuinely nice. He’d never met anyone like her. “Could you thank her for me? I appreciate the thoughtfulness – it’s filling enough that I don’t need to go to the mess, which means there’s more left over for everyone else.”

“…sure,” Wei Wuxian said. “I’ll tell her. Or, and here’s a thought – why don’t you tell her yourself?”

“Why would I? You’re the one she likes,” Jin Zixuan said, puzzled. “I mean, you’re her adopted little brother, aren’t you? She’s practically your second soulmate, after Lan Wangji.”

“I’m really busy,” Wei Wuxian announced, despite having been lazing around complaining that they didn’t have any encounters with the Wen sect lined up for a whole week only a few moments before. “I couldn’t possibly take the time out of my schedule to go talk to her – you see, I’ve had an idea, which is going to keep me very busy…in fact, I’m not even going to be here at all! I need to go to the Lan sect encampment to consult with Teacher Lan.”

Discovering that Lan Qiren had a mad scientist streak when it came to musical cultivation had been extremely disquieting, Jin Zixuan reflected. The world might’ve been better off if Lan Qiren had never had a chance to actually get friendly with Wei Wuxian – Wei Wuxian provided the terrible ideas, Lan Qiren scolded him about them and then helped him smooth the kinks out of them anyway.

Teacher for a day, father for a lifetime…

“All right,” Jin Zixuan said, though he still didn’t exactly understand what had just happened. “I’ll go talk to her, I guess.”

-

“I just wanted to make sure you know you’re not obligated to make me soup or anything,” Jin Zixuan said, not sure where this conversation had gone off the rails.

Probably around the time that Jiang Yanli had started smiling at him, because he always turned into an idiot whenever that happened. She was so very nice, not just average at all no matter what anyone said, and blissfully down-to-earth – she wouldn’t be wasting her time and everyone else’s thinking about how to politically advance herself despite there being a war on. She spent all her time learning field medicine and helping cook meals for the mess and –

And he’d better stop thinking because he was turning red again.

“I enjoy making soup for you,” Jiang Yanli said peaceably. “Especially since I know you enjoy it, too.”

“I do! It’s just, I don’t know, you already do so much, with the medics and organizing and everything…It’s – uh – I – listen, I know our parents – you don’t have to pay attention to that. I only have one hand, I’m not – don’t feel obligated, not because of that. And don’t let Wei Wuxian make you think making soup is the only thing you’re good for, no matter how much he likes it, okay? You do so much more than just that!”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, covering her smile with her hand. “You’re very sweet, you know.”

Jin Zixuan made an incoherent sound.

He would need to do something in return, he thought, a little frantic; he really didn’t know how to deal with a sincere compliment from someone he actually liked. Maybe poetry? Girls were said to like poetry. He couldn’t write poetry worth a damn, but he could pay someone –

She kissed him on the cheek.

All thought abruptly departed.

“Don’t worry, it’s not inappropriate – after all, we’re already engaged,” Jiang Yanli said cheerfully. “Which I’m very good with, so don’t worry about that. Good luck in your next battle, Jin-gongzi.”

At some point she must have left, because she wasn’t there anymore, and Jin Zixuan was still opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.

Mianmian peeked in, then snickered. “Oh no,” she said. “She broke him. Everyone! Come look! She totally broke him!”

-

“Did you actually cut off your hand to save a servant?” Jin Guangyao asked.

“It was a bit more complicated than that,” Jin Zixuan said, uncomfortable, then added, “Welcome to the family.”

Jin Guangyao smiled.

For some reason, Jin Zixuan felt a shiver run up his spine. He didn’t think he liked this new brother of his, and he felt bad about it – he’d welcomed Wei Wuxian whole-heartedly, hadn’t he? Was it really that different when it actually was someone of his own blood?

He didn’t like that thought.

“I hope we can be friends,” he said, willing it to be true, and Jin Guangyao murmured something agreeable in return.

Jin Zixuan wished he liked him.

“My mother is going to hate you,” he said, because he knew that she would. “If she does, let me know, and I’ll try to stop her…not just her. If anyone treats you wrong, just tell me. I’ll stand up for you.”

Jin Guangyao smiled again.

“You’re so kind,” he said, and for some reason Jin Zixuan had the feeling that he didn’t mean it at all.

-

Jin Zixuan had been engaged since before he was born, and it still somehow came as a surprise to find himself married. Not just the event, either – these days he woke up with his wife in his arms and was forced to just stare at her lying there in the soft morning light and wonder how he got so lucky.

He was married.

To a very nice girl, who actually seemed to like him a great deal – she’d made that clear enough when she’d had a chance. Very clear, in fact, which was why there was also a very slight curve in her belly that meant that soon enough he wouldn’t just be married, but a father.

“You’d tell me if I was dreaming, right?” he asked Wei Wuxian, who was visiting again. He did that a lot, but in fairness he didn’t really have a settled place to live – everyone knew the supposed ‘sect’ he’d founded was little more than a sham. He’d been technically kicked out of the Jin sect and refused all offers to rejoin, and it seemed he wasn’t quite ready to scandalize the entire cultivation world by marrying into the Lan sect no matter what Lan Xichen had been hinting. Sometimes he and Lan Wangji spent time at the Lotus Pier with Jiang Cheng, or the Unclean Realm with Nie Huaisang under Nie Mingjue’s long-suffering gaze…everyone called Wei Wuxian the Yiling Patriarch, on account of him ‘founding’ his sect there – or rather, summoning up extra resentful energy from the Burial Mounds for the purposes of obtaining an army while minimizing the number of disturbed graves – but he wasn’t, not really. He didn’t live there or anything.

Who would want to live there?

“I would,” Wei Wuxian agreed, but he didn’t follow it up with teasing or anything the way he usually did.

He just looked very uncharacteristically perturbed.

“What is it?” Jin Zixuan asked. “Can I help?”

“No heroic bullshit,” Wei Wuxian said at once, which meant that there was a possibility of heroic bullshit. Given Wei Wuxian’s personality, that also meant that it was heroic bullshit that would be bad for the Jin sect, which he still felt bad about on account of them raising him and all…in all honesty, it might be a good thing in the long run that Jin Zixuan’s father and mother had been so awful to Wei Wuxian as a kid, and that he’d known it. If they’d been good to him, he never would have been willing to leave. “But, uh, remember Wen Ning?”

Jin Zixuan blinked. Wei Wuxian had told him some stories: a junior disciple of the Wen sect, from a branch family – Dafan Wen – who’d helped Wei Wuxian out a few times when he’d been smuggling the Jiang clan to freedom.

More than a few times: he’d been Wei Wuxian’s first disciple in matters of resentful energy, which Wei Wuxian had apparently been thinking of since forever and started playing around with more or less the moment he was no longer officially tied to a sect, and had been a valuable contact during the early period of the war before events had changed and he’d been lost.

“Yes,” he said. “What about him?”

He hadn’t thought of Wen Ning in ages, beyond abstractly hoping he was doing well. It might be hard, with a surname as he had, but surely there was somewhere in the cultivation world for those surnamed Wen – Wei Wuxian had argued fiercely in favor of leniency for the remaining Wen cultivators, and the Lan sect had backed him, thanks to Lan Wangji. The rest of them had been exhausted, Nie Mingjue, Lan Xichen, Jiang Cheng and his parents, even Jin Zixuan…his father had ended up volunteering their sect to help with resettlement of the refugees, which had been a pleasant surprise.

Sure, Jin Zixuan knew his father well enough to know that he was only doing it for the clout and possible advantage it would give him, but he was pretty sure the Wen civilians didn’t especially care why they were going to get a reprieve from death and a new place to live, only that they did.

“I’ll get there,” Wei Wuxian said. “It’s a bit complicated…you know how Jin Zixun’s in charge of resettlement?”

Jin Zixuan nodded, puzzled. “What about it?”

-

“You can’t do that!” one of the guards shouted at Wei Wuxian. “We’re disciples of the Jin sect –”

“Is that so,” Jin Zixuan said, and they all turned to look at him, each one of them blanching in utter horror. “And why didn’t I know that my Jin sect had such people as you?”

“Where’s Wen Ning?” Wen Qing asked Wei Wuxian, looking desperate. “I don’t see him…Where is he?!”

“That monster?” one of the guards blurted out.

“My brother is not a monster!”

“He’s been hiding in the woods,” one of the Wen civilians volunteered. “He’s been raiding the camp, rescuing people who are being abused –”

“Our response was reasonable in light of his aggression,” the guard argued. “He used demonic cultivation – he’s a monster! We had no choice –”

“We’re going to need to question them,” Jin Zixuan said to Lan Wangji, who was looking faintly murderous in his usual righteous sort of way. “To find out who’s their backing – Jin Zixun wouldn’t have dared something like this, not on his own. Can you bind them for me?”

-

It was his father.

Of course.

-

“A-Yao, what do you want?” Jin Zixuan asked, and Jin Guangyao stopped in his tracks, staring at him in confusion – as well he should, since he’d only come into Jin Zixuan’s study in order to say good morning on his way to breakfast. “No, sorry, that’s not what I meant. I meant, you know, in life.”

Jin Guangayo blinked at him.

Probably not the best question to spring on someone before breakfast, Jin Zixuan reflected.

“It’s about the trouble that my – that our father got into,” Jin Zixuan explained. “The other cultivation sects are furious to no end that he took advantage of their trust in order to do such a disgraceful thing…I’ve ordered Zixun to be confined for now, and I suspect he’ll have to be banished to some country house for a few years. And as you know, my father will be retiring soon and handing over the position of sect leader to me…”

Neither of them especially wanted that to happen, his father as loathe to give up power as Jin Zixuan was to take it. But what other solution was there after such a scandal?

The Lan sect, ever concerned with morality, had been horrified when they’d found out what had happened; the Jiang sect, despite their close relationship to the Jin sect, had immediately denounced it, and Jiang Yanli, who was Wei Wuxian’s friend, was the very first to speak. The Nie sect, never a firm ally for the Jin sect, was growling about righteousness, and if Nie Mingjue was sincere about that being his only concern – and having worked with the man, Jin Zixuan believed he was – then there were plenty of others in the Nie sect that had their eyes on the greater influence and power that would accrue to their sect if Jin Zixuan’s father were allowed to bring his sect down with him.

Handing over power was the only way to make sure their Jin sect remained strong.

“He won’t be alone, at least,” Jin Zixuan sighed. “I won him that much.”

Jiang Fengmian had agreed to step down from his position as sect leader as well, making it seem as though Jin Guangshan’s retirement were voluntary, part of a joint agreement of the older generation handing over power to the newer. Everyone would know in their hearts that that wasn’t the case, but it would be far less shameful than the alternative – saving a little bit of his father’s face.

“You did well,” Jin Guangyao said, listening with a neutral expression. “In uncovering everything, and revealing it.”

“I would’ve brought you in to help, but I couldn’t,” Jin Zixuan explained. “I know he asked you to help in finding demonic cultivators to join the Jin sect, and…”

He hesitated.

“He implicated me?” Jin Guangyao asked.

He had. Their father was shameless: he’d even sought to move all blame to Jin Guangyao’s back, whether as the actual mastermind or, when that was rejected, as the inciter of the scheme. Nonsense, of course.

Anyway, it didn’t matter. Even if Jin Guangyao had suggested it, it would have been his father’s responsibility to refuse.

“No one believes it,” Jin Zixuan said, which was only partially a lie. “Even Chifeng-zun laughed in his face and said you wouldn’t be nearly that stupid.”

Jin Guangyao looked – oddly pleased by that, if Jin Zixuan had to guess.

“Still, it’s awkward,” he said, rubbing his head. “People talk, and our subsidiary sects have never been as quiet as some others…you don’t have to tell me right now what you’re planning, or what you want in the long term. But maybe – uh – you have two sworn brothers. Is there any chance…”

“I could go visit them for a while?”

Jin Zixuan smiled helplessly. “I wish it weren’t necessary. And if you did know what you wanted, I could take it into account when planning the future…”

“No, no,” Jin Guangyao said. “Visiting my sworn brothers will be – fine.” He looked thoughtful. “You said Chifeng-zun didn’t think I was involved?”

“Zewu-jun was also vociferous in your defense,” Jin Zixuan said, trying to elide the fact that it wasn’t so much that Nie Mingjue didn’t think Jin Guangyao was capable of such atrocities, but rather that he declared, and loudly, that if Jin Guangyao had intended to do something horrific like that, he’d have handled it better. Judging by Jin Guangyao’s amused expression, he might have guessed anyway. “I appreciate your understanding.”

Jin Guangyao smiled.

Jin Zixuan thought he might even mean it, this time.

-

“I’m an uncle!” Wei Wuxian crowed, holding Jin Ling in his arms. “I’m an uncle, I’m an uncle!”

“Big deal,” Jiang Cheng grumbled, which would be more convincing if he wasn’t beaming foolishly. “So am I. Hand him over...hey, A-Ling! It's me, your jiujiu!”

“Can I be an honorary uncle?” Nie Huaisang asked – Jin Zixuan had no idea when he’d even arrived, or why he was here, or anything, really, but that was probably because he hadn’t really slept on account of over-excitement. “I mean, my brother’s sworn brothers with Jin-xiong’s brother, so it works, right?”

“That’s ridiculous –” Jiang Cheng started.

“No, I love it!” Wei Wuxian immediately declared. “That means Lan Zhan’s his uncle, too!”

“Wei Wuxian…!”

“Don’t worry,” Jin Zixuan said, hugging Jiang Cheng out of sheer excitement. “You’re his only jiujiu, right? Everyone else is related through me, so they have to share.”

Jiang Cheng seemed pleased by that, and Wei Wuxian laughed.

Nie Huaisang was calculating on his fingers. “You know,” he said thoughtfully. “This might be the most well-connected baby in the entire cultivation world? The only thing we’re missing is the Wen sect…Jiang-xiong, how about you marry Wen Qing? Then we’d have them all!”

“That is not how I’m determining my marriage!” Jiang Cheng yelped, but notably didn’t reject the idea.

Jin Zixuan looked at Jiang Yanli, who looked back at him, and they both started laughing.

There was more noise after that, and eventually Jin Ling woke up and started crying, making everyone start fussing like a bunch of old hens surrounding a long-suffering Jiang Yanli who’d already grown accustomed to it in a way the rest of them hadn’t.

It suddenly occurred to Jin Zixuan that everyone who was here was here because they wanted to be. Not because of his name or his wealth, not because he was Sect Leader Jin, not because of the circumstances of his birth, but just because they liked him – because they wanted to celebrate with him, and to cherish his child, to share his joy.

It was a good day.

All the days were a little good, but this one was especially good.

#mdzs #jin zixuan #wei wuxian #mianmian #jiang cheng #lan wangji #jin guangyao #jiang yanli #my fic #my fics #right hand man

[frostedfaves]

Naive (3)

Masterlist

Pairing: demon!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: You pick up on the lies in Wanda’s life and she decides to show you the truth.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark!fic, demon things™️, more hints at dom/sub because I’m a whore for demon!Wanda

A/N: I can’t believe that it’s been a month since I posted the last one 😭 I have some things planned for the next part and so on but I also kinda wanna take requests again??? idk we all know how I get overwhelmed easily with that so we’ll see what happens there. anyway tell me your thoughts on this please!

Previous part

Waking up feels like gasping for air after being trapped underwater. You aren’t sure how long you were asleep, but the mid afternoon traffic quickly alerts you of how much of the day has passed. 

Despite your head feeling like it’s made of cement, you manage to stand up, slipping off thin pajamas as you walk into the bathroom and stop at the mirror. Your skin seems tender in places and you’re a little bit startled when there isn’t a single indication of the bite marks and scratches you feel, even after rubbing your eyes a few times and turning in every direction possible. Deciding to let it go for now, you reach for the shower stall to turn on the water, detouring to the bedroom instead when you hear your phone ringing.

“Hello?”

“You didn’t save my number, did you?”

“Wanda?” You pull the phone away long enough to quickly clear your throat. “I mean hey, Wanda! What makes you think I didn’t save your number?”

“You answered like you didn’t know who was going to be on the other end.”

“Okay, you caught me,” you admit after a moment of silence. “I promise I’ll save it as soon as we hang up. Anyway, what’s up?”

“Remember that pet adoption center you pointed out to me?” You acknowledge her with a hum. “I was thinking about getting a cat…Wanna tag along?”

“Absolutely! I was just about to shower though so I can be ready in an hour or so.”

“Perfect! I’ll text you when I’m outside.”

The two of you say your goodbyes and you keep your promise of saving her number, typing in her name and hesitating on the emoji keyboard. Realizing you’d spent far too much time contemplating this, you simply save what you have and hurry back to the bathroom, something in your brain urging you to not keep her waiting.

-

Within an hour, she sends you a text in all caps and a smiley face that tells you she’s arrived, and you can’t hide the fact that you’re surprised when you come outside and she’s waiting on the passenger side of the car.

“Hey! How are you?” she greets cheerily as she approaches you with a hug, and you shiver when her hand touches your lower back. “Are you cold?”

“No, I’m okay.” You smile and thank her when she opens the door for you, attempting to collect yourself as she crosses to the driver’s side again. “I’m really happy to see you again.”

“You are?”

“Yeah,” you admit quietly as she pulls away from the curb. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No no, I just didn’t want to assume you were enjoying our time together as much as I was.”

She places her hand over yours while she glances at you, smiling as she squeezes your fingers and thigh lightly. You feel a rush of something traveling from the places she touched to your brain, only slightly aware of the fog settling in your mind.

“Well I didn’t want to be too enthusiastic about it and scare you away if all you wanted was friendship,” you clarify, meeting her eyes when she reaches a red light.

“I suppose you’re looking for more too, then.”

“I am now.”

The light turns green and she breaks eye contact, but the little smirk that follows tells you everything you need to know. At least, you hope it does.

-

“I think he’s the cutest one we’ve seen yet,” you comment about the kitten that hasn’t looked away from Wanda since you approached his area. “He seems really drawn to you, too.”

“How did he get the name ‘Baby Satan’?” Wanda inquires with an employee, who approaches you with a chuckle.

“It’s actually Baby Stan, because we used to have an adult cat named Stan as well and needed to tell the two apart. We were going to give him a new name but decided to leave that up to his new family.”

“It says ‘Baby Satan’ though,” you cosign with Wanda, gesturing to the extra A mixed in with the magnetic letters that spell the kitten’s name.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I don’t know how that got there,” the employee apologizes as she reaches over to fix the sign, and you watch her freeze as Wanda touches her arm.

“Don’t be sorry. Keep it; I want to adopt him.”

“Okay, right this way,” the employee mumbles as she turns awkwardly and stumbles over to a desk, and as the two of you follow her, you look back to see Baby Satan still staring at the woman beside you.

“What was that about?” you speak up finally once you’re in the car with her new furry friend, and Wanda frowns at you while fastening her seatbelt.

“What?”

“Why did that employee react to you like that? You touched her and she started acting really weird after.”

“Oh, Kim’s fine!” she assures you as she fixes her mirror before pulling out of the parking lot. “I actually asked her about that while you were looking at scratching posts and she said I’d overstepped her boundaries and made her uncomfortable. Don’t worry, I apologized and everything’s good again.”

“She told you her name?”

“She was wearing a name tag, babe.”

Babe...that’s new. Still, the sudden nickname doesn’t completely distract you from the fact that you’re certain there was no name tag on Kim’s uniform. You’re debating with yourself about bringing this up when you notice her heading toward Lane County.

“Are you taking me to your house?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.” She glances at you and over her shoulder toward Baby Satan before turning back to the road. “I figured I could introduce both of my kittens to the place they’ll be spending a lot of time in.”

Her fingers brush over your knee as “my kittens” leaves her lips, and you’re almost embarrassed when your hips involuntarily buck slightly. Noticing the small change in your behavior, she takes advantage of your head turned toward your own window and allows her instincts to continue driving while she stares at you, placing her palm on your thigh and rubbing circles on the fabric covering it that brings her closer and closer to your core.

“Home, sweet home,” Wanda announces as she pulls her wandering hand away to park the car, jumping out a second later and grabbing her furry son from the backseat. “Hey there, Baby S.”

You step out of the car in a similar fashion of pulling yourself out of a swimming pool, taking in the fresh air and trying to relax yourself as you follow her into the apartment building. The hallways reflect the quiet and clean neighborhood as you make your way into the elevator and up to the 6th floor, suddenly entering the most empty apartment you’ve ever seen.

Of course there’s furniture: a couch with a TV mounted on the nearest wall, a dining table with a set of matching chairs, a few stools placed at the island and kitchen appliances that are shiny and new. But there isn’t any personal artwork, posters, books or even just a lamp that you could tell Wanda purchased herself with one glance.

“Are you staying in an AirBNB or something?” you ask as she carefully places Baby Satan’s carrier next to the couch, and she chuckles.

“I guess technically it was one before I moved in, but I’ve been here for two years.”

“Okay...so where are your pictures?”

“What?”

“Where are your pictures?” you repeat, maintaining a steady voice despite the expression she gives you as she faces you again. “Pictures of your family, friends, you as a child?”

“If you knew my family, you’d understand why you don’t see them here.” She startles you by practically growling her words but you press further.

“Okay but you also said you love plants and we’re the only living things in here.” You step back to put more space between you while quiet shuffling noises are heard inside the carrier. “What’s really going on here?”

You can easily spot the shift in Wanda’s emotions: going from defensive, arms crossed and eyes glaring to resigned with slightly sagging shoulders and a defeated sigh.

“Fine, you got me.” She bends over to pick up the carrier again and passes you on her way to the door, stopping a few feet away. “If you’re serious about pursuing a relationship with me, then I should probably show you my real home.”

“I don’t know...”

“Come on, love.” She comes just close enough to bring your hand into hers and a tingle spreads through your body, causing you to pull away but her grip only tightens. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you, and this is the only time I’ve lied.”

You find yourself being drawn closer to her, and an almost familiar feeling washes over you when her thumb begins rubbing gentle circles into your jaw. The metal on her ring is so cold it almost burns upon contact, yet you nuzzle into her more with each pass along your skin.

“Don’t you want to be good for me without being forced to your knees first?”

If the fog surrounding your consciousness wasn’t so thick, you might’ve been shocked by this side of her, so calm yet demanding you serve her. But the hand on your jaw seemed to cover every inch of your body and sink into your nervous system, forcing you to fall into her and let her lead you back to the car with a simple arm around your waist. You’re buckled into the passenger seat again and a slightly blurry grin greets you from behind the wheel seconds later.

“I can’t wait to make you mine.”

Your head falls against the car window as she drives to the edge of Lane County, and your altered vision picks up on businesses turning into isolated suburbs into grassy fields into forests. You travel along narrow, winding roads past the tallest of trees with very few spaces in between, and your hazy state of mind prevents you from panicking when Wanda turns onto a dirt path that doesn’t even seem to be safe for bicycles. The wheels bump along the forest floor until she comes to a stop just outside of a two foot dwelling, similar to a cave.

Once the two of you are out of the car again, she holds your hand with her free one until you reach the cave, instructing you to sit in front of it while she does the same. She places her palm on the door, and her rings seem to come alive as they interact with it for a few moments before it swings open and the three of you are sent flying through a tunnel. You land with a groan on the hard floor and dust yourself off as you carefully stand, any questions dying in your throat as you face Wanda again, now standing before you in her true form.

“Welcome home.”

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda maximoff x reader #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #frosty's dark!fics

[soulwillower]

housesitting •  richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

requested: no

had this in my drafts and figured i’d finish it and post it, sorry for being away, but idk if i’ll keep writing! hope you enjoy, i’ll prob still come back and update/post fics on this account on occasion. love u guys lots and i hope you’re all doing okay <3333

warnings: drinking, unprotected sex, oral (fem and male receiving), light deepthroating/face fucking, praise kink, degradation, use of the words slut, whore, etc, suuuper unedited

(losers + reader are 21+.)

4.7k words

♡

the moment you stepped back into your flat, dropping your bag heavily on the ground with a sigh, you finally felt like you could breathe. 

today and yesterday had been a nightmare - you and your roommate bill had gone home, planning to stay for a week with family and friends back home. 

you'd spent the first night out with old friends at the bar enjoying yourselves and  you'd even gone home with a handsome boy you'd had a crush on in high school. but just as he was about to go down on you, after you'd gone down on him despite how terrible his b.o. was, he said he wouldn’t because it was 'gross.' 

you hate to admit but you were slightly tipsy and horny, so you still stayed for ten minutes of awful, boring missionary before he fell asleep. then when you'd left in the uber, a voice message from your boss threatened to fire you if you didn't come in and finish a project - so you had to scramble for a flight home, leaving bill back with your friends in maine for a few days, and now you're just ready for a shower, a nicely packed bowl, and a large dinner. 

because good god, that was an awful trip. 

"hello?" you call, rubbing your eyes as you walk towards your kitchen, wondering if your roommate's best friend was still here - he was supposed to stay and take care of the apartment while you were away. 

but instead, your eyes landed on a complete mess in the kitchen; solo cups everywhere, trash, empty chip bags, furniture moved and counters sticky from spilt beer. 

"what the fuck?" you project, eyes landing on the figure who walks into the kitchen, towel hanging low on his hips as water drips from wet, shaggy curls of hair. you meet the bright eyes of richie tozier, your roommate’s best friend. 

he looks like a deer in headlights, his glasses slightly fogged as he blinks his eyes owlishly and you swear his eye lashes tangle together as he blinks. "oh, hey y/n, why are you here?" 

and honestly, richie has always made your fingers tingle and your abdomen clench when he so much as looks at you, despite bill’s groaning and glaring when you refer to him as ‘hot friend number one.’ (he had a lot of hot friends). 

but you’re wound up, stressed, frustrated, and exhausted so all you can do is look from the boy to the mess and then back, stunned, "this is my apartment." 

he chuckles, wiping a drip of water off of his chest. you have to fight to look away, feeling burning from irritation and also something else as your chest heaves. you're just so tired, and this boy who you don't know very well has trashed your place and maybe even had a party and you just want to smoke and go to bed and- 

"say, what are you doing back so soon, toots? thought i had the place to myself for the next five days." he says too casually, grinning like he's catching up with an old friend. his hand runs through his wet hair, droplets rolling down his bare skin and causing you to fight the urge to keep your eyes on his face.

you shake your head. "richie, why does my kitchen look like a scene from dexter?" you say, trying to keep yourself calm. 

he tilts his head in an irksome, handsome way that makes you want to scream, "pretty sure dexter was....murdering murderers, not slamming smirnoff at three am."  "clean it up! what gives you the nerve to have a party in someone else's fucking apartment? while they're gone?!" you yell, throwing your hands in the air. richie shrugs uncomfortably and you're briefly in shock at how much faith richie is putting in the small tuck he's made with the towel, barely keeping up on in his waist. he laughs somewhat nervously, "sheesh, doll, it would've been cleaned by sunday, you just surprised me and almost gave me a heart attack while i was in the shower. bill told me we could throw at your place as long as we were responsible." he sounds pretty genuine, but you're just so tightly wound and frustrated.

"well this," you gesture to your place, "is not responsible." you glare, "i'm going to shower. i've had a long fucking day, and when i get out the place better be fucking spotless and you better be gone. i'm not asking." you snap. 

he grins as you push past him, turning to watch you storm towards the bathroom with an apologetic grimace on his face. 

- 

you took as long as you could in the shower, savoring every warm drop until you stepped out of your bathroom, expecting to see an empty apartment. 

"what are you staring at?" the boy with the curls mutters as he fixes the wine glass he'd placed on the counter. you're pretty speechless as you look around, wondering how richie had managed to get your place more clean and inviting than how you'd left it. dishes are all clean, put away, the counters spotless; the oven is set with a timer for two hours, and the smell of lasagna invites your nose with a rumble of your stomach. two glasses of wine are poured, sitting at the counter as richie chews on his lip anxiously, hair glinting in the dark mood lighting from the lamp near the window. 

"i felt bad. you seem like you had a long day and i didn't mean to make it worse." he admits. 

you step forward, suddenly feeling hot as you watch him, his jaw clenched slightly and sharper than you remember it. he's actually really fucking beautiful, you realize. 

"you didn't have to do all this." you say, biting your lip as you take the wine glass from his hand. 

"i know." he says with a cocky smirk. your face feels hot as you watch him slide out the stools by your breakfast bar, sitting down and sipping on his own wine. 

with a smile, you sit next to him. he was always the friend of bills that made you the most flustered - he's a tall, loud, garish bartender who spends most his time doing stand up at the clubs on the weekends even though he studied applied mathematics in school. he's the kind of boy that everybody has a crush on, because he's got that dorky yet beautiful sculpt; dark, curly locks, pale skin with a splattering of bright freckles. his eyes pierce yours whenever you're in the same room and his grin makes your stomach flip on it's head. 

"so, why'd you come back early?" richie asks as he takes a sip, eyes staring at you brightly from behind the rim of the glass. you huff a small bitter laugh, "my boss told me i had to come back because we're understaffed. told me the extra hours are 'building charater' or something. but i was having a shitty trip anyways, so i may as well just volunteer my time." 

he laughs, muttering, "good girl. doin' the lords work." you almost laugh but his words have heat sent straight between your legs and you can't tind words, suddenly in a state of shock. oh, god, this wine is getting to you.

richie's always been so hot, you're not surprised that one casual phrase had you so frantic like this. you blink, richie muttering, "y/n?" gently. 

you shake your head, snapping to look at him, "y-yeah? sorry, i just- what did you say?" you're embarrassed. you're embarrassed because richie didn't even mean it like that and you didn't expect to like being called that by him and you're embarrassed because he knows now, god look at his smirk, you're done for. 

"i asked why your trip was shit." he says simply, smirk on his face causing your face to heat up even more. you sigh, eyeing him, "i tried to enjoy myself and then i have the worst hookup experience of my life. then i came back to a messy apartment." you admit, shaking your head as richie pours you both another glass of wine, "the worst? that's a shame. what'd he do, throw up on you?" 

you laugh, "no, nothing like that. he was a minute man, and he refused to..." you shake your head, wondering why you're admitting this to a guy you barely know. you've never hung out one-on-one before with him.  "-he made me do all the work. and then he fell asleep. the worst part is, i've liked him since high school." you admit, dropping your face into your hands as richie lets out a chuckle. 

richie's shaking his head, "see, those types are the ones who just shouldn't be allowed in the gene pool. lazy. missin' out on all the fun, especially with a gal like you." he says with a wink. you laugh, face feeling hot. "i'm no fun." you say bashfully. 

richie raises his brows with a grin, his smile making you melt, heat pooling in between your legs from the way he runs his fingers across the rim of his glass. "i highly doubt that, doll." 

his eyes dip down in a not-so-subtle way as he takes in your body, biting his lip and making you clear your throat with a heated face. "sorry you had to put up with a guy who couldn't fuck you the right way. and that your boss also fucked you. and that i ruined your night." 

you shake your head, "i just had so much pent up stress from the last few days." he's eyeing you, and you wonder if he wants to fuck you as bad as you want to be fucked right now. would bill kill you? yeah, he would, but richie is so damn fine and you were left so high and dry last night that you’re just about ready to jump onto his lap. 

as if reading your mind, richie hums, "bill's still in maine, yeah?" he asks casually, eyes fluttering to the timer on the oven that ready an hour. 

you nod, "yeah, he's actually hanging out with the guy i hooked up with tonight." you say with a light huff. richie groans a laugh, "no fuckin' way. i promise, not all of bill's friends are bad at sex." richie says with a grin, and you laugh. "you sure about that?" 

he hums, eyeing you but not responding. 

“guess i’ll just have to find out.” you say boldly, butterflies fluttering in your chest when richie shoots you a deep look, slicking his lips through a smile. he hums, "so i don't get it, what was so bad about it?" 

you sigh, "he wouldn't go down on me. said he was 'too tired' and ‘too much work’ then he wanted to lay down so i rode him for, like, five minutes and then he fell asleep." 

richie's laughing, and you swat his arm as your face burns, "it's not funny! it's humiliating, richie." 

he snorts, standing up to place your empty glasses in the sink, recycling the empty bottle. "sorry, doll. that's just shit. he should've at least had the decency to make you cum." 

you almost choke on your spit at his bluntness, face blossoming and thighs tingling. "y-yeah." 

"anyways, i can get going, if you'd like. guess i’m done being the house sitter. the lasagna will be done in an hour or so." he says with a nod, eyes staring at yours fiercely. you hum, standing up as richie walks closer. "or you could stay." you say, looking up at him from where he stands in front of you. 

"you lonely or somethin', doll?" he rumbles lowly, lifting a brow. biting your lip, you swallow, "something like that." you say, lifting a challenging brow. 

“so if it was stan here, or mike...” he starts, walking towards you until he’s close enough that you’re afraid he can hear your heart thump, “you’d want them to stay?” 

you swallow dryly, “if bill lived with someone else, would you want to stay?” his smirk makes you clench your thighs. his long fingers raise and curl around your jaw, tilting your head back before tucking hair behind your ear. you swallow roughly, his hands are so big. his rings that he wears are thick and ice cold and feel so good against your warm face. 

your heart pounds as he smirks, eyes challenging you. the waiting is killing you.

"you've got a pretty mouth." he whispers, sending shocks all around your body. "y-you've got a pretty everything." you stutter out, feeling extremely flustered and suddenly shy. "thanks, honey." he says with a laugh, making you feel even more bashful.  

"y'know..." he drawls, hand settled on your neck, caressing your jaw, "i've wanted you since i first saw you." 

you can't help the whimper as it falls from your lips. it's a small, shy noise of need and it makes richie beam a beautiful, sexy grin that has your knees weak. "please..." you whimper, eyes staring at his, the suspense making you anxious with need. 

"please what?" he asks quietly, clearly loving the tense air. you almost roll your eyes, "kiss me." you say, rushed. 

he pulls away slightly, giving you a stern look. “please.” he says, smirk creeping onto his face. you burn in slight humiliation because he knows what he’s doing. 

“please kiss me, richie.” you finally say, swallowing.

"good girl." he says with a smirk and you feel like you're burning up under his gaze. but then he’s leaning in and his lips are on yours and wow, richie is a good kisser. he’s pulling you towards him tightly, hungrily; his teeth bite gently at your lower lip as his tongue swipes your own, pulling you into him. he was needy in the way he kissed you, a dominance in him that you're not surprised to find. you craved it, you craved him; and then he's pushing you back, up onto the stool as he moves between your legs. 

his mouth is then marking your neck, claiming you, and you love it, the feeling of his teeth against your warm skin, the sweetness of his smile against you.

his hands brush up your thighs and past the hem of your shorts, legs spread so he’s pressed flush against you, his bulge so close to where you want him. "richie," you let out a mangled whimper, hair knotting in his soft curls. he laughs, lips finding your ear, "always wondered how you'd sound when i had you like this," he says quietly, "can't wait to hear what pretty noises you make when i'm inside you." 

his fingers find the damp seat of your panties, dancing across it and making your legs shake with anticipation and neediness. you’re already a soaked, mewling mess as you grasp for him, hungry and needy and you want him closer, closer. 

he pulls you off the stool, then, and you both stare at each other for a moment. he almost dies at the state of you; already fucked-out, hair mussed up and still wet, your eyes lidded and your lips kiss-swollen. 

you can’t believe your eyes, richie’s curly hair fluffy from being freshly washed, the taste of wine on his lips, the freckles, the collarbone peeking from his collar, the smirk that could melt black ice. he looks like he could tear you apart. you hope he will. 

“you’re hot.” you blurt. 

he rushes at you again, melding your lips together with a searing hot kiss as he shoves you backwards towards the bedrooms. 

"bill told me to stay away from you," richie says as he walks you down the hall, your feet nearly stumbling and shaky as you walk backwards, lips seeking his every moment, "he said i'd ruin you." he adds. 

you lift a brow, too flustered to say anything as you stare up at richie, inhaling sharply as his hand trails down to cup your ass lightly, still walking backwards. "he knows how pretty i think you are. how hot, how... perfect." he whispers into the skin of your neck, raising goosebumps. "but i want to fuck you so well you forget your name. i don't care about what bill wants." 

you look at him, desperate and needy. "i don't give a fuck what bill says. i want you, please." you say, pawing richie and kissing him needily. richie’s leaving dark love bites on the column of your neck and you know it's wrong, and you shouldn't, but you let him kick open the door into bill's room, guiding you to bill’s bed instead of yours. “please, wan’ you so bad,” you pant, the needy throbbing getting unbearable, desperate for some release. 

“how bad, pretty girl?” he asks, smoothing down your hair. biting your lip, you sit on the bed, eyes level with the zipper of his pants. the sight of you staring up at him from below his hard, clothed cock makes his pants feel even tighter and he hums, "you sure?" 

you nod enthusiastically, "wanna make you feel good, please." he lets out a soft noise as your hands go to pull down his fly, “filthy girl." he says lowly, making heat drip from your core. you shift, trying to relieve some pressure. you feel hot when you realize you want him to degrade you, that you love it. “god, say that again.” you moan, mouthing around his bulge. his hands come to caress your face, watching you, 

"you like being my little whore, huh? so good just for me. bet you’ve thought of my cock in your mouth before, haven’t you?" 

you nod, biting your lip. he grins and you’re moving to pull him out of his pants, trying to conceal your shocked face as you take in his size. your cheeks heat up, hand grazing his length and meeting his own hand as he pumps himself a few times, lining his tip up to your lips. 

“open.” he says simply and you comply willingly, laying your tongue out. he’s teasing his cock on your tongue and you’re whining, desperate to feel him in your mouth, to make him feel good. 

“just wait until i say so, baby.” he says, slapping your tongue lightly with his cock and making you shift on your legs, dripping wet.

he groans, one hand coming to hold your head softly, making you tingle. you watch as he stares at you, lips parted and eyes blown wide. his cock is glistening with precum as it lays on your tongue. “suck my cock pretty girl.” he mutters, caressing your cheek. so you close your lips, slowly sucking on his tip before taking a bit more, moving your head slowly. 

you lick a stripe up the base of his cock and up to his tip, swirling your tongue. he groans in relief and pleasure as you take as much of him into your mouth as possible slowly, bobbing your head and taking as much in as you can. he’s bigger than anyone you’ve been with before, and the need to feel him inside you and to make him fall apart has you taking him as deep as you can.

you take him deeper, your eyes clouding with tears as you try not to gag and he hums, hands pulling your hair from your eyes - you can tell he’s straining not to buck his hips as you bob up and down on him.

“god, you feel so good, y/n.” he groans. you pull back, sucking on his tip as you swirl your tongue, catching your breath. his hands fall to your head and he gently, slowly thrusts his hips slightly. you gag, mouth wet as he pulls out of your mouth and wipes the trails of spit from your lips. “do it again, please.” you gasp, and he grins. “such a  slut.” 

he guides your face back to him, “tap me three times if it’s too much.” you take him in again, holding as long as you can and loving the way he’s thrusting into your mouth. he groans, both hands on your head, his chest rising and falling shakily.

"god, that’s so perfect. my good little toy.” he rumbles and your chest flutters. you feel him twitch and you sense he may be close, so you start to bob your head again.

he stops you, "no, pretty girl. i'm going to cum inside of you, okay?" you swallow, mouth dry, "okay." please. 

he sinks to his knees, gently pushing you so you're laying down on the bed again, pulling your legs so they hang off the side of the mattress. he's pulling your shorts off, your underwear following as he spreads your legs wider, kissing your thighs. “look at that pretty pussy. soaked, all for me.”

you're breathing shakily as one finger rises to gently rub your slit, making you moan softly. his touch is feathery-light, teasing you and making you whine, moving your hips. "shhh." he says softly, bringing his tongue to lick up your slit. you moan out, relieved to have some sort of satisfaction. richie's hand moves up to push up your top, thumbing your nipples as he starts to suck your clit. he pins your hips down, "be a good slut and stay still for me." he says, burying his face as your toes start to curl in pleasure, the burning sensation of pleasure increasing. 

he rubs circles into your hips with one hand as he slides two fingers into your heat, making you whimper, his fingers start to pick up pace as he continues to circle your clit with his tongue. his long fingers curl up inside of you, still pushing into you fast and rough, hitting your g-spot. you moan, “richie, harder, please.”

he hums, lifting his head as you gasp for breath, "since you asked so nicely, doin' everything i say." his fingers are moving again, faster than before. his tongue runs over your clit, practically moaning into your heat, fingers moving faster. you moan unabashedly, feeling yourself clench and knowing you're about to cum. your legs wrap around his shoulders as your hips move slightly, 

“cum on my tongue like a good little slut, okay baby?” he says gently. you moan, eyes shutting as you see stars. you're hitting your high and then richie's watching you, praising you as you fall apart, letting out soft whimpers. 

then you're sitting up as he rises from his knees, licking his lips. pulling him into a searing kiss, he crawls on top of you, rutting into you a few times before pulling back. 

he's pulling himself out of his pants and you swallow around your words, resisting the shocked face that threatens to creep on to you when you see how big he is. you moan as you watch him pump himself, pulling off his shirt as you pull off your own. 

he grins as he looks at you, "so good for me, my little slut. you want me to fuck you now?" he asks and you eagerly pull yourself up to your elbows, "yes, please, rich, fuck me." 

he hums, pushing his cock against your slit, the tip rubbing your sensitive clit and making you moan sharply. he continues to tease you, one hand on his cock and the other holding your waist. "use me, please." you whisper in his ear, hand holding him to you from the back of his neck. 

he lets out a sharp breath, hand snaking to your neck and pushing you back onto the mattress. "you want me to use you?" he asks, thrusting against you slowly, teasing your slit. "like my little plaything?" 

"yes, god, richie, please-" but then he's sliding into you all at once, his large cock stretching you as he moves his hips, sheathing into you. you feel so full that all you can do is gasp, richie kissing your forehead as his hand rests on your throat. "gonna fuck you on bill's bed, okay? and you're gonna be good for me, right? my good little cockslut." 

you nod yes, "so good for you." you say, and he smiles. he starts to pull out, easing back in and starting a shallow rhythm, getting you used to his size. you're euphoric as he starts to languidly pump into you, one hand on your neck and the other on your chest, palming your tit. 

he starts thrusting into you, picking up speed - rough and fast. his hips buck up against you, pulling back fully before filling you up. his thumb gently grazes your sensitive clit and you grip his bare back, raking your nails down in pleasure. "do you walk around thinking of how it'd feel to get fucked by me, baby?" he whispers in your ear as he pounds you into the mattress. you moan, "yes, r-rich, i've wanted you for s-so long," you trail off into a moan. "feels so good." you mutter, panting, words babbling from your mouth incoherently. 

you barely have a warning before you cum a second time, clenching so hard that richie's hips sstutter, his moan ringing with your own. he looks down at you, thumb trailing into your open mouth, you eagerly sucking on it like a lollipop. "god, you're so tight, doll. such a good little whore for me. i bet you'd let me do anything to you, anywhere." 

your legs are shaking as he keeps thrusting you through your orgasm, feeling sensitive and euphoric. he smirks, "yeah? bet you'd let me fuck you anywhere, just my little fuck toy. so perfect for me." 

you nod, kissing him needily, tears from oversensitivity pricking your eyes. "want you filling me up richie, feels so good." 

"anywhere?" he asks, eyebrows knit in pleasure as he fucks into you. he's so possesive, it makes your face warm. you nod, "anywhere." 

he's smirking, and you know he's thinking about how shocked bill would be if he found out. it makes it that much hotter as you turn and see the picture of bill and richie on the wall near the door. 

then richie pulls out of you and you're being flipped onto your knees, richie's large hand pushing your face towards the soft sheets. you can't help the moans that escape you as he spits onto your dripping cunt, fingers playing with your used pussy as you moan, sensitive and still desperate. "pretty baby, all fucked out. can you take one more?" he asks, hands roaming your ass. you nod, yelping gently when a hand smacks down on your ass. 

"can you take one more?" he asks. "yes!" you moan into the mattress with need. he mutters, "good girl." as he pushes into you, the new angle making you moan loudly. with every thrust, he pushes you down on the mattress, making you grip against the edge of it with pleasure. one of his hands drops down to rub your clit, and you buck needily against his touch. after only a few minutes, the combination of the snap of his hips, the few slaps on your ass, and his hands on your clit push you over the edge, clenching around his cock as you whimper. your legs barely stay up after you cum, and his arm wraps around you to hold you as he pounds into you, chasing his own high. 

"yes, my pretty girl, so good." he praises again, hips speeding up. you think he's close because his breathing is faster, hands gripping your hips hard as he kisses down your spine, "take it." he whispers onto your back as he finally cums, pulling out and finishing on your ass and lower back, moaning lightly. 

you can't believe what just happened as richie disappears, returning at the speed of light with a damp washcloth to clean you off. you blush at how sweet the gesture is before he falls next to you on the bed, sighing. "i'll be honest, i didn't expect that." 

you laugh, "neither did i. i thought i was coming home to an empty apartment and some microwave ramen." 

he's staring at you, a smirk on his face, “i'd apologize again but holy fuck, you look so pretty when you cum.” you don't know what to say, feeling hot as you roll your eyes with a grin. he laughs and kisses you, “you’re cute, you know.” 

"says you." you mutter against his lips. you thank god bill won't be back soon as you watch his best friend rise, naked, from beside you and grab a spare hoodie and gym shorts from bill's closet, throwing them on before handing you his own shirt to wear.

"so, lasagna?" he asks, glasses askew slightly. you laugh as you stand on shaky legs, "it's the least you could do." you joke. 

tag list:  @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier  @sft-core @clownsloveyou  @moon-shine-baby  @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @chl0bee  @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @groovybimbo @deepestofwaters  @unfortu-nate-ly @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslutter @babytortie  @decafcoffeew @etaerealboy

#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier smut #losers club smut #losers x reader

[benditlikepress]

one good movie kiss

here for @sunforgrace 's thesis statement: give dean one good movie kiss and he WILL be alright

“Are you avoiding me?”

Dean’s hand stills in the air above his cup of coffee as the voice cuts through the kitchen.

Cas is standing in the middle of the room in an ill-fitting sweater and his hair is dishevelled as though he’s been tossing and turning. He looks so unremarkable, so human, it makes Dean’s breath catch in his throat at the reminder.

It’s been three days since Cas got back and it occurs to Dean when he speaks that it’s the first time they’ve been alone together. Awake, that is: Dean realised early on that difficult conversations couldn’t happen if you’re asleep. Thank god for Cas’ Empty-rescue hangover.

“No. I’m not avoiding you.”

“OK. Good. I was worried that after what happened things might be weird between us, but I suppose that’s unavoidable.” Cas pulls a face that’s a little self-deprecating.

I’m fighting the urge to run the hell away from you, Dean thinks. To stay the hell away from you before I do anything else to hurt you. Before you make a reckless decision to save me, again, or say something so brutal and true that my legs give out from under me and I’m left sitting alone on the floor wondering how the hell I’m supposed to do this on my own.

I’m fighting the urge to wrap you in my arms and never let go.

“I’m not avoiding you, Cas. I just.. I’m trying to figure out the stuff I have to say to you.”

“I understand. I know everything that’s happened recently is a lot to contend with.”

“Yeah, that’s an understatement.” Dean coughs and stands up, tapping his hands against his legs for something to do. Cas is looking at him expectantly and Dean knows he deserves answers but how is he supposed to do that? How do you even begin to explain to someone that their mere presence in the room has your breath hitching? “But it’s not.. you. It’s not you I’m avoiding. It’s just. Y’know. The stuff you said before you..” He doesn’t say it. He can’t. Cas blinks.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. That’s – god, that’s the last thing I want. I’m just.. trying to get my head around it.”

“I meant it.”

“I know you did. I know that. I just.. I believe you, and nobody’s ever really said that stuff to me and meant it before. So I don’t really know how to talk to you about it. But I.. so long as you know I appreciate it.” The words are too fast and Dean doesn’t know if that’s more or less embarrassing than the way he’s stumbling, pathetic half-words forcing their way out of his mouth.

“OK.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

And it’s that simple to him, apparently. He doesn’t ask Dean for anything else. It pisses Dean off, actually – he wants Cas to ask him. Maybe if he’s forced to confront it the words might come out a little easier.

“I mean, you know that I.” Dean stops again abruptly and jesus christ why is there a lump in his throat? “It means something. To me. It means a whole lot, actually. Maybe if it didn’t it’d be easier to talk about. There’s stuff that I wanna.. stuff I need for you to hear. That you deserve to hear, when I get my head out of my ass. Because I don’t feel like I deserve any of that crap you said to me, but you deserve to hear things back.”

It feels like a monumental admission but it’s clearly not the thing on Cas’ mind as he frowns.

“You think you don’t deserve that? You really believe that?”

“Honestly? I’ve never believed it. I don’t know why you give me the time of day half the time, man. And you don’t have to.. argue about it, or anything. I know you want to. It’s just how I see it.”

Cas thinks about that for a couple of seconds, eyes boring into Dean so deeply he half-wonders if he can’t still see his soul. He walks further into the room but doesn’t approach Dean – not really. Just takes a couple of steps between the distance.

“I won’t argue. Not now. But I hope I can make you understand that you deserve it. Happiness, peace.. love-” The word has Dean’s mind reeling, flashbacks and heat rushing “– I spent a long time believing I couldn’t accept them for myself. I thought too much had happened, or that I wasn’t built to be capable. You allowed me to think differently. I want you to do the same.” Cas looks down and taps his hand on the edge of the table as though he hasn’t got Dean’s heart in the palm of it. He looks up again and his expression is breath-takingly earnest. “Dean, the things I said barely touch the sides. I don’t know if I could ever put into words the impact you’ve had on me since we met. I just wanted you to understand. I needed you to understand how other people see you, even if you can’t see it for yourself.”

“Message received.” Dean responds like a fucking asshole but Cas smiles all the same, warm and knowing and in a way that fills Dean with the relief of being understood.

“I can give you space to think about things if that’s what you want. I know I’ve put you in a difficult position.”

“It’s not difficult. Probably not for anyone else except me.”

Dean smiles in derision and Cas returns it but it’s pity and sadness and love and Dean’s mouth closes. “It was difficult. I threw things at you that’d been on my mind for a long time and didn’t give you any time to process it.”

“I’ve had weeks. Weeks and weeks, and I still can’t.. I think until I saw you again I had no idea how to understand it. Looking you in the eye and thinking about it-” Dean closes his eyes and pushes away black ooze and secrets and everything else that threatens to flow over the things he wants to remember. Tears in Cas’ eyes and his smile so bright, brighter than Dean even thought him capable.

He’s looking at him now like he might break.

“I’m sorry, Cas. I know I’m not-”

“I know exactly what you are, Dean.” The words are clear and sincere and Dean wonders if there’s anyone else in the universe capable of arresting him so simply. “I’ll leave you to it.” Cas eventually nods at Dean’s breakfast and smiles, dipping his head as he starts to leave.

“We’ll talk. We will.”

“I know we will.” He smiles a little as he turns to walk away and suddenly Dean’s heart is in his mouth at the sight of the back of his head.

Say something. Say something.

“Cas.” Dean calls too quickly, too desperately, and when he turns to look at him with naked expectation all of the wind is knocked right back out of his sails. “I… fuck, Cas. I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He smiles with complete and utter sincerity, and god he has to stop doing that. Stop accepting Dean’s bullshit as though it’s nothing. Shout, argue, anything.

He’s leaving. He’s still leaving, he’s turning away and suddenly Dean’s legs are propelling him through the kitchen of their own accord.

Dean grabs his arm and yanks him around, the force of it making Cas briefly stumble a little before he straightens his feet and looks at Dean with a wide-eyed confusion that makes Dean’s heart hammer in his chest.

Dean brings his hands up to cup Cas’ face around his ears on his neck and jaw, in a way he has before and convinced himself wasn’t ever possible when they weren’t battling life or death. Cas’ stubble is a little longer than usual and he strokes the line of it with his thumb, watching as Cas’ mouth falls open just a touch in the echoing silence.

Dean takes his time, registering every mini-movement of expression in Cas’ face as he understands what’s happening. His hand comes up to Dean’s wrist but doesn’t push it away, rather grips it for dear life as though he’s afraid it’s going to disappear. When Cas’ eyes travel down his face Dean takes it as invitation and closes the gap between them, pressing his lips lightly but surely against Cas’.

At first Cas’ are stunned frozen against his and Dean starts to panic that he’s made some kind of earth-shattering error in judgement before the hand on his wrist relaxes and he feels a pressure against his mouth. Cas’ lips are a little chapped, like always, and Dean feels his eyelashes flutter.

He opens his eyes reluctantly as he pulls away, not sure what he’s expecting to see (rejection? Lucifer? nothing at all?) and almost slams them shut again when he finds Cas peering at him with such utter arresting devotion he thinks his knees might buckle.

Dean’s hands drop to his sides of their own accord, suddenly absolutely terrified, but Cas doesn’t move away in return. In fact, he brings his hand to Dean’s cheek and Dean’s sure he must look like a fish opening and closing his mouth in stunned silence before suddenly Cas moves in to kiss him again, other hand coming up to grab his face and hold him in place as his lips are ferocious and impassioned against his own.

And this, this is more like it, Dean’s barely able to think as Cas’ mouth opens and his tongue plays along the line of Dean’s own lips, his heart hammering in his chest as he hears a noise in Cas’ throat as he allows him entrance.

Cas kisses like he’s never going to get another chance: like Dean has granted him a once-in-a-lifetime wish that’s going to get taken away at any moment. He’s hungry and sharp and warm and Dean feels breathless as he lowers his hands from his face to his neck and then to his hip, pulling Dean sharply against him as Dean’s own hands cup his jaw and try desperately to gain a semblance of control.

There’s stubble scratching his face and he tries fleetingly to explain away the flushing burn on his skin as a by-product of it, but then there’s a hand riding up his shirt onto on the bare skin at the small of his back and it’s on fire.

Where the hell did Cas learn to kiss like this? His head is spinning before he can ponder the question and fingers on his back are steady and grounding even as Cas’ tongue and lips and breath have him practically able to feel the earth spinning beneath him.  

The kiss slows steadily and then all at once as Cas’ lips lighten against his, and he feels him exhale against his skin in a release that Dean himself is desperate for. He knows it’ll come, eventually: in every moment he allows himself to open like this, touch on his skin making him feel alive.

Cas pulls away and Dean feels a longing form deeply and harshly in his throat that barely stops him from yanking him straight back in again. He forces himself to open his eyes, wondering if Cas can see water pricking in the corners of them.

“Don’t give me space, Cas. I don’t want it.” He manages to say though his voice sounds foreign and weird to his own ears, like it’s formed by someone else. There’s that smile on Cas’ lips again and he feels a desperation to say something, anything, that’ll keep it frozen in time. “Just stay.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“I know.” Cas’ own voice is quiet now and Dean’s fingers somehow find themselves reaching out towards Cas’ hand, pulling it a little.

“You wanna do something today?” He says, just for something to say. Anything to prolong the moment.

“OK.”

“Sweet.” Dean nods and tips his head away, running a hand through his hair to try to gain some composure as Cas smiles at him as though nothing’s happened.

Dean has to pinch himself to check that it has.

#supernatural #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfiction #my fanfiction

[ptergwen]

favorite crime

w/c: 1.6k

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood / death, lots n lots of angst

summary: you convince peter to go on the run after he’s framed for murdering mysterio, but he doesn’t want to drag you into his mess

a/n: this was completely based off the song by olivia lfmbsjfhs it’s so beautiful and i’ve wanted to write something for it for a while now so yee i hope y’all like ! pls lmk what you think <3

-

“we have to get you out of here, peter! come on!” you shout back to your boyfriend and tug his hand that’s laced with yours.

peter doesn’t budge. even when your grip on him tightens, when you pull him forward with all your might, he remains stoic.

there’s something he needs to do, and he’s been contemplating it since the day he met you.

it’s time to let you go.

“please, peter. i’m begging. i know you’re tired of running, but if we don’t leave now… they’ll find you,” you desperately choke out. peter squeezes his eyes shut, dreading what’s to come. “i can’t do this to you anymore, y/n. i… i’m sorry.”

emergency sirens and flashing lights approach the old apartment building serving as yours and peter’s latest hideout. the whole world is on the lookout for him, so you two stowed yourselves away in brooklyn for a bit.

you were hopeful the rumors would pass eventually — about how peter shot the beloved mysterio and left him to die in cold blood. they’re merely talk, of course. you’d personally seen the events of that day unfold on the tower bridge. hell, your class was right at the center of them.

quentin beck was pure evil, so rotten he defamed both peter and spider-man with a charge as cruel as murder. he’s wreaking havoc on him from beyond the grave, over a complete misunderstanding that peter had nothing to do with.

beck’s true source of anger is stark industries. yet, once again, peter ended up the collateral damage.

he was deemed a wanted murderer. posters revealing his name and face were plastered up around the city, a reward even being offered to whoever who turns him in.

you’d proposed the idea of skipping town until things settled. the way you saw it, it was peter’s only option other than prison for twenty-five to life. peter was panicking and couldn’t think straight, so he went along with your getaway plan.

a few weeks later, he’s regretting it.

you’ve been the one person he could trust through this madness. you’re right there to console him, to protect him just like he does you. through sickness and health, life and clearly death, you stick by peter’s side. you left everything behind without a second thought, for him.

peter loves you more than you’ll ever fully be able to comprehend, which is why he can’t ask you to do that. this is his battle to fight, not yours or anyone else’s. his.

you suddenly freeze in your tracks, turning around to look at peter. “what are you talking about? you’re fine, pete.”

his eyes roam everywhere except to yours as they water. blinking back tears, he fixes his gaze on your intertwined hands. you notice a stray tear fall down his cheek and use one of your thumbs to wipe it away, then press a reassuring kiss to his lips. peter lets himself reciprocate momentarily before jerking back.

“please just… stop being so nice to me. you’re making this way harder than i wanted to to be,” he rasps and squeezes your hand tighter. you’re still lost, absolutely clueless about what he’s referring to.

“look, pete. i wanna hear you out, baby. but… i think it should wait until we get to jersey.” you keep your voice as calm as possible, though you’re terrified for both of you. since the feds know your location, they’ll have the place surrounded any minute.

hopping cities isn’t cutting it anymore, so you’ll have to change states this time. new jersey is next on your list.

using his strength to his advantage to hold you in place, peter seizes both your shoulders. his bloodshot eyes lock with yours. a stern expression coats his features, one you’ve seen from him yet never been on the receiving end of.

“we’re not going to jersey, y/n/n,” he declares, the sirens starting to grow louder. you feel a pit forming in your stomach. “we have to!” you immediately protest. “it’s not gonna be easy finding our way, but it’s the last-“

peter cuts you off, voice softer now. “no, no. that’s not what i meant.” he waits a beat and inhales a deep breath, aiming to settle his nerves. it doesn’t.

“i’m going to jersey. you’re staying.”

tears cloud your vision the second those words leave his mouth. you shake your head furiously back and forth, willing him to take them back.

part of you was always afraid peter would get second thoughts. not only about running away with you, about ever being with you. you’re both so young. your entire lives are ahead of you, and peter won’t allow you to risk your own because this isn’t worth a single bit of it.

he’d warned you how dangerous it was to be associated with spider-man. it’s why he held off on telling you about his alias for the longest he could. you naturally began asking questions whenever peter bailed on dates and showed up to school covered in bruises. he hated lying to you, using his stark internship as an excuse, so he finally came out and said it.

peter sometimes wonders if you’d be better off not knowing at all. it’s too late now, though.

“wait, what? why- why can’t i go with you?” you plead, peter’s fingers coming up to cup your cheek. his fingertips lightly caress your skin. “i’m a criminal, y/n. you’d be my accessory.”

it takes everything in him not to break down and sob along with you.

you lean into his palm, already missing his touch. “i don’t care... i don’t give a fuck. i just wanna be with you, peter.” peter literally has to bite his tongue to fight the urge to cry. hands grabbing either side of his head, your fingers twist in his hair roughly. “i’ll do anything, pete. i really will, i swear. name it.”

peter threads his own fingers through yours again, bringing your hands to his chest.

“i’m so sorry, angel. i never should’ve gotten you involved,” he murmurs out and pecks your forehead. “you have nothing to prove to me, okay? you’ve done more than enough. i’m gonna return the favor.”

you let out a strangled whine, your knees buckling as you come to terms with the gravity of your situation.

this is it. this is the end of yours and peter’s story.

“hey, none of that. it’s okay,” peter coos, neither of you convinced. the tastes of salt and metal flood both your senses. he helps you back up and hugs your waist, peppering your cheeks in more kisses. you’re bawling now, arms wound around his neck, clutching at his tattered jacket.

free tears escape peter’s eyes at last. “i love you. i love you so goddamn much, y/n. never forget it,” he nearly whispers. you sniffle and push your forehead against his. “i’m not saying it back ‘cuz that feels like a goodbye, and i- i can’t say goodbye to you yet.”

“it’s not a goodbye,” peter reassures you, rubbing circles on your lower back. “it’s, uh, it’s a see you later. i’m gonna figure something out and be back to you before you know it. can’t get rid of me that easy.”

that earns a faint giggle from you, peter managing a grin. you two attempt to ignore everything happening beyond these walls, only focusing on the other.

“then, um…” you clear your throat. “i love you.” his smile dwindling slightly, peter nods and meets your gaze. “i love you too, baby. you should probably get going soon.”

affirming his advice, a booming voice that sounds from a microphone commands peter to come out with his hands up.

your worry spikes, instinctively drawing peter in closer. he forces himself to put on a brave face for you.

“i’m scared, pete. where… where am i supposed to go?” you rush to ask him. “home, y/n/n. go home,” peter decides, pressing a final kiss to the top of your head. “just don’t get caught, and you’ll be fine.” carding your fingers in his undone curls, you sigh. “easier said than done, but i’ll try not to.”

you’d never pictured that the sweet boy with a heart too big and brain even bigger, who sings you to sleep even though his voice sucks and spends his last dollar buying you flowers, would be accused of first degree murder. it isn’t true or fucking fair.

what’s worse, he has to bare this storm alone now.

you lift your heavy backpack off the cold ground, slinging it onto your shoulders. peter stares out the window and down at the assembly of swarm troops crowded together.

“are you gonna be okay?” you catch his attention. he snaps back into reality, pulling your hood up so it covers your head. you’re wearing a sweatshirt of his, after having gone through all your own clothes. “i hope so. are you?” peter repeats your question. “i hope so,” you echo.

tying your hoodie strings tight, peter offers a smile. “say hi to may for me. ned and mj, too.” it’s going to be tough to face his family and friends after this. “i will. i’ll let them know you’re alright.” you kiss his cheek, placing a hand on his chest. peter lets your touch distract him from the mess he’s about to be hit with.

“thank you, y/n. i’ll see you soon, baby. you have my word,” he promises, stepping back so you two can go your separate ways.

you watch him with fresh tears threatening to spill.

“i’m gonna hold you to it. be safe, spidey.”

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

[ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole]

BBQ at the Kent's

Clark invites his friends over for a quiet BBQ at Ma's farm. It just doesn't go quite how he expected.

Masterlist

........................................................................

Clark had invited his closest friends and their underlings to a BBQ at Kent farm. So what if his closest friends, all happened to be from the Justice League. Kent Farm was a perfect location. It was out the way so if power mishaps it was unlikely to be observed by anyone passing by. It was a large space so could hold lots of people. Especially as his friends seemed to have a habit of collecting underlings like Pokémon, in particular Bruce. AND it wasn't Wayne manor which despite what Bruce says isn't always a relaxing place to be.

Ma was catching up with Alfred and Lois which was good, Alfred deserved a medal as well as the chance to relax. The teens and kids were mucking about/chilling in the house, and he could catch up with his colleague slash friends and relax.

What he may have miscalculated though was his little sister returning home to see Ma. She knew about him and his 'side job'. She had also, very early on, figured out his friends ‘side jobs’ too. Working it out was a breeze according to her, they weren’t particularly discrete in the beginning (according to her at least). She had covered for him and saved his bacon more times than he would willingly admit. Hell, she's covered for him to them and covered for them without them knowing. She’d provided so many alibis and removed evidence that they hadn’t thought about. The issue though, with his sister turning up, was more that THEY a) didn't know about her and b) didn't know that she knew and finally c) she could quite easily give them all a run for their money.

___________________________________

Walking into her family home she found a swarm of teens lounging around the living room. They were all chatting and talking over each other that they didn't notice her enter. Raising an eyebrow, she spotted Conner, who was currently wrapped around another boy with dark hair.

"Hey Mini Bale! Nice look you got going. Bet it's driving the old men mad and completely beats the plaid shirts and starched suits. Is Haybale out in the yard?"

Conner jumped, causing the others in the room to stop chatting, and looks to see his sort of aunt smirking at him across the room.

"Hey M, didn't know you were coming too? Yeah Clarks out back. Ummm….. why are you here?"

"This is my home too Mini Bale.” She deadpans him, “I was planning to surprise to see Ma as not visited in person for a while. I don’t need to tell Haybale every time I visit, he isn’t the boss of me.” Conner’s aunt pouted before gaining a glint in her eye, “What I wasn't expecting to see was Haybale having a "small gathering” here and not invite moi! But alas it is what it is."

The glint turning into a smug look with a dangerous edge as she took in the room.

"Auntie M!!!", the call distracted her from the room suddenly as Jon ran in from the kitchen and launched himself into a flying jump to hug with the women standing in the room. "Straw stack!! How are you doing sweetie? Made any new friends?"

While Jon dissolved into conversation with his Auntie, Tim took the opportunity to quickly assess the newly dubbed Em. She was well dressed, the sort you don't often see on farms and would be better placed in the city. Her clothes were expensive, the type he often could see board members wearing when relaxing. Even with Jon holding her attention she seemed to have clocked him studying her and nearly everyone else who was watching her interactions. Leaning into his boyfriend he queried.

"Em? Does she? Is she? Who???"

Conner chuckled at Tim's confusion, as well as the mystified faces of the others there.

"Tim, guys, I'd like to introduce you to Clark's sister, and my sorta aunt and Jon’s definite Auntie, Marinette. M for short. And before you ask Tim, no she isn’t like him. She *does* works with Max Kante in developing high tech material and gadgets since well she grew up with Clark and wanted to help him cope with his powers… She and Max created MiracuTech as a result. It’s her brainchild though really, M doesn’t really need Max."

"Mini Bale stop!! You’re dramatizing it. I need Max just as much as he needs me, our skill set complement each other. We couldn’t make half the stuff MiracuTech does without his input.” Marinette blushed, “Max says hi by the way and to tell you to pop by the office. He wants to test his new “creation” with you. Not that that offer will remain if you keep speaking of him like that. But it does remind me, how are you finding the glasses?"

It was Conner’s turn to smirk at his friends, and they could suddenly see the family resemblance in the pair.

"They're are awesome M. Like the play back function is brilliant. I've recorded so much blackmail."

His friends paused and a shiver went down their spines recalling all the incidents that have happened since Conner got his latest sunglasses.

"Fab feedback. I'll let Max know.” Taking as glance around the room, “I'm gonna take a wild guess as say Battle Barbie, Fishtails, Greedy Gonzales and Moody & Broody are out back with Haybale and Ma, Mini Bale?"

That again caused the room to freeze, being siblings with Clark kinda made sense that she would have known his identity, but for Clark to tell her about other identities was worrying. Conner tilted his head and looked at his sorta aunt as if trying to work out what she was planning.

"Yeeeeah, what are you up to M? I'm pretty sure you promised Clark you'd not cause mischief when you met everyone."

"I deny ever making that promise. I have evidence to back up that claim too. Plus, the amount of shit Haybale has caused me cos of his moral compass and lack of impulse control makes it fair game. Though I do support his altruism.” She paused debating what she would say next, “To set the record straight what I *actually* promised was that I would *consider* not causing *too much* mischief. And I have considered it and think that I'll survive this course of action. You’re not the only one with playback ability. Thanks for the info Mini Bale. Let's catch up more later!"

With that she ruffled his hair as she walked past him out to see her dear older brother.

"You've spent too much time as a cat M!" Conner called as he tried to sort out his hair. The room erupted as she left the room. Confusion, mild panic as to whether their identities were at risk and answers were demanded from Conner and Jon. Tim whined at Conner’s comment, "Cat?! We've got to keep B away from her!"

___________________________________

Out in the yard, Clark was relaxed surround by what he supposed was the founding JL members. He'd heard his sister turn up and cause subtle chaos amongst the teens in the house slowly dreading her announcing her arrival out here. Ma would be thrilled to see her. He was too, sort of. Just not in front of everyone. Kon-El was right with her spending too much time as a cat. And Tim was right as well. He'd have to keep Bruce away from her, she'd be just his latest type.

"HAY BALE! You're holding a party for little ol' me?! How delightful of you."

Clark cringed. He still hated her nickname for him.

"Lois! Ma! You both look lovely as ever! Oh, it’s been too long since I've seen you in person."

Marinette swooped past Clark to the ladies and gave them huge hugs before quickly falling into conversation to catching up with them, thankfully ignoring Clark allowing him some time to deal with his friends.

"Why is Marinette K from MiracuTech at your farm Clark?"

Barry quickly asked, staring at his sister with stars in his eyes. Ok maybe it wasn't just Bruce Clark had to worry about.

"Yes, why is the Guardian, Lady Fortune, at your home?" queried Arthur looking at Clark with confusion and slight apprehension.

"MiracuTech… Guardian," Diana quickly put together gasping, looking at Arthur who had cottoned on to her implications as well, then back at Marinette.

"Guys! Please! Cool it, M I hope," Clark quickly glared at his sister, who was grinning manically knowing the trouble she was causing for him, "can answer your questions and Barry, M, Marinette, is my sister. Why wouldn't she come here? Though this wasn't planned visit that I was aware of."

"You have a sister."

Bruce stated, as Diana and Arthur wondered off talking in hushed tones. Clark could hear that they had figured out one of her 'other' identities but was content that they wouldn't add drama for the moment he redirected his attention back to Bruce.

Clark sighed tiredly, "yes, I have a sister, Bruce. Who likes to keep her personal life private. Which is why you guys have just found out about her and not before."

"Is she Kryptonian?"

"Bruce!! you can't ask Clark that!!" Barry exclaimed, not really surprised by his bluntness but still Alfred was about, and he was ‘Bruce’ currently so social etiquettes, and all should be observed.

"What can't Moody & Broody ask Haybale, Greedy Gonzales?" Marinette enquired, a picture of planned innocence, as she snuck up on them. She gave Clark a side hug and a ‘knowing’ sibling smile.

"M… please… stop with that nickname. Bruce was just asking if you were adopted as well."

"Fine!" She rolled her eyes, "Boy Scout it is then. Moody & Broody I'm not adopted. Ma and Pa had me as a 'Surprise! you're pregnant’ a few years after they'd adopted Boy Scout here"

Bruce frowned at the names she'd been given them. While she just gave a facade of innocence, she held a glint in her eye that destroyed the illusion along with the names she was giving everyone.

Ignoring Clark and Bruce, Marinette turned to Barry to discuss his work at S.T.A.R labs and potential collaboration with MiracuTech. Clark internally groaned as he watched his sister get animated about some sort of tech project she wanted to discuss.

Bruce observed the interaction. It was clear that she knew more than she was letting on. Though he had done research on his peers to know their weaknesses and strengths, Clark having a younger sister never came up. How he had hidden her was impressive, unless it was herself who had hidden her existence from him… That was worrying causing Bruce to deepen his frown as he watched Barry and Marinette chat.

Clark joined in frowning at the pair, but because of how was Barry flirting with his BABY sister before he started to groan as it seemed to go completely over her head. She still seemed to be oblivious to those around her liking her slightly more than friendship.

"M! Ma's told you before no business talk at home."

Laughing back at him his sister nodded "We’ll have to continue this discussion another day maybe Greedy Gonzalez, when Boy Scout isn't being all boy scout-y and acting like a golden child."

Seeing an opportunity Diana butted in and 'subtly' tried to guide Marinette to where she was sitting with Arthur. "Lady Fortune, it's an honour to meet you in person. My mother has told many a tale of our mutual friends’ legacy"

"M is fine. Lady is much too formal for my liking right Ms Prince? Our friends have told me much about your mother as well Battle Barbie. But I must say I'd be more interested to hear about your curator work at the Louvre" Allowing herself to be led away.

___________________________________

Bruce gave Clark a patented batglare, "She knows." Clark rubbed his neck before back at Bruce.

"Yes. She knows. She's my sister. It's kinda hard to hide learning how to manage superpowers from family you know. It was her and Pa that helped find solutions to manage the powers. Lead glasses… her idea."

Growling at Clarks response. "She knows ours. You told her"

Taking a deep breath, "No Bruce.” Clark sighed out, praying to the god’s his sister cared for, for the patience to deal with his paranoid friend, “I didn't. She's smart. Ridiculously and stupidly smart but that's aside. She *knows* who I am. She follows my career, like I do hers. She knows who I work with, like I know who she works with. And who my friends are. The info is all there to work it out. She's also got me out of tight spots as an alibi way too often. I'm pretty sure this is opportunistic revenge for it. Especially for all she did before Lois *knew*"

"Oh god it was her calling you at the watch tower that made you pale. Not Ma Kent!!" Barry cackled, "She's the one you're scared of!!"

"Ssshhhhh Barry! Yes! She terrifies me. Much more than little sisters should. You do realise she has covered all your butts more than you think too. Remember she is a tech genius, she works *with other* tech genius’s and we, sometimes in a rush in the early days, forgot about cameras and visuals lining up."

Barry paled at that. Bruce on the other hand looked intrigued. Of course, her problem solving, and detective skills would attract him. "How long has she known?"

"Mine, since forever and never told anyone. Yours, as she has never said anything directly, I’m going to guess since we worked together the first times. I don’t really know for how long, but it’s been since the early days. You don’t need to worry though; she understands the need for secrets and how to keep them. This,” Clark says waving his hand around, “is her way to letting you know she knows without stating it. It’s definitely her subtle form of revenge on me for having to hack large corporations and delete footage or claiming that I was with her visiting so couldn’t get caught out.”

Clark turned to Bruce all serious, “Don’t antagonise or integrate her. Please Bruce! She can and will break into the Batcomputer and cause it to run slow and force your phones and alarms to only play baby shark.”

“So, she’s the one who helped you hack LexCorp to get the evidence required for your latest article”

“That’s what you got from that?! That my genius *baby* sister sometimes, might, maybe, help gather evidence to take down corrupt businessmen and politicians?! Not the fact that you shouldn’t wind her up!!”

“Well I know your tech skills aren’t up to scratch and though there was potential for Lois, it doesn’t really fit her MO so its nice to know how you truly do it. Do you think she would tell us how she hacked into JL main computer and the bat computer? Or be willing to assist in building better protection.”

Clark stared at Bruce, and was about to respond, but before he could Diana caught his eye as she knelt before M holding her hand. Stars in Diana’s eyes while Arthur looked like he was going to faint.

He groaned. Now, Diana!

His baby sister was really trying to stress him out with all the potential shovel talks he would need to make. The shimmer in her eyes when she briefly caught him looking at her suggested that she may be more aware that she was letting on. With the headache she was causing him, he would need a drink after all this.

Thankfully, before Marinette could cause more chaos with the Atlantean and Amazonian, her phone went off resulting in her slinking off to deal with what sounded like guardian issues from his eaves dropping giving what he thought was breathing room.

“Are you ok Arthur? Do I need to talk to M?” Clark enquired to his friend, hoping his sister hadn’t caused too much trauma for his friend.

“She can hold both sides of the balance and not succumb to the pressure or temptation. A true soul and so young. You let this all happen to your younger sister?”

Ok so she had caused some trauma for the Atlantean after all. He was certain it was related to the cat as well as the bug.

“Let is a strong word, Arthur. Forced is more appropriate. M is more stubborn than Bruce at times. And at 14... yeah hormonal teenage younger sister in Paris. My hand was forced.”

Diana and Arthur choked looking at Clark in horror, “14!?!?!”

Both Bruce and Barry raised an eye at him in judgement. Like they’re ones to talk with how young they let their mentees join the field.

“It is decided. She will be traveling with me to Themyscira and to Atlantis when Arthur puts on his ‘big boy pants’. She requires extra support in this matter.”

“14? Extra support? Diana, what are you talking about? She is in her 20’s not 14. You can’t kidnap Clark’s sister, Can she?”

Barry looked perplexed by the situation. Unsure on what they are talking about. She seemed to be fine and had survived years without assistance and knowing about their identities. Going to Themyscira and Atlantis would not help with that.

Staring at Clark with an unnerving intensity, Bruce answered Barry’s questions.

“She was one of the Parisian heroes. Their leader from what Diana and Arthur are suggesting. She started her extracurricular activities before even we officially did, much younger than we were and Clark didn’t stop her.”

“Oh.... Wait?! You didn’t stop her!!”

Clark was really regretting this BBQ. It was starting to feel more like an interrogation on his big brother skills, a judgement on his mentoring capability NOT a relaxing escape with friends.

“It would explain why Clark was so insistent of a some of the support protocols now,” Bruce mused. “She didn’t let you help and forced you stay away, didn’t she? Your powers, if you got akumatised, had the potential to cause a global disaster and the magic could have hurt you out of costume.”

“If you knew this, why are you giving me grief! And Diana, you can’t kidnap M. She has a support network already.”

“I didn’t. You just confirmed it. And more support can never hurt.”

Damn bat with his detective trickery and throwing his own arguments back in his face. Groaning in response Clark looked at his friends,

“Fine. You can ask but it’s HER choice no forcing it ok.”

After some grumbled agreements they all agreed.

___________________________________

“I hate you,”

“I love you too, Hay Bale.”

Marinette grinned at her brother with a cup of tea in hand. His friends had finally departed more than one had managed to get him to convince her to exchange numbers. She’d agreed to visit Diana when back in Paris to arrange a visit to Themyscira. It scared him how quickly after the initial interrogation and worry they all accepted her. She was bound to provide them so much blackmail on him. Clark was dreading his next JL meeting.

“You did this on purpose.”

“Not really. Ma knew I was visiting her this month. The fact you were here with everyone was just a perfect opportunity which I took up.”

Clark stared at his sister. None of her nervous tells were showing so wasn’t lying to him, not that she would. She hated secrets, and she carried so many with so many implications if they were revealed. As a result, she hated liars if there was not true reason for them.

“Fine. You do realise I have so many shovel talks now to dish out?”

“What?”

“Did you not see the heart eye’s Barry was giving? Or how Diana was constantly trying to get close? And once Bruce had assessed that you weren’t a threat, kept trying to engage you in conversation about detective stuff?”

“Oh, So, errr, they aren’t like that normally to friends?” A faint blush was making its way across Marinette’s cheeks. “I like wasn’t aware. Can I blame miraculous side effects?”

Clark laughed at his baby sister, yeah as clever as she was, she remained her wonderful blissfully ignorant self on flirting which he adored.

“Nah, they aren’t normally that friendly. Didn’t think you noticed and sure let’s blame the kwami, they caused some of this drama any way. I vote for Plagg and Trixx for being at fault.”

#maribat #maribat au #ml x dc #mlb x dc #dc x ml #dc x mlb #marinette x clark #siblings #platonic #marinette x superfam

[arvinsescape]

Could you write something with tom being super clingy after not seeing reader for a while and not wanting to share her with anyone?

Tom’s clingy.

A/N: I loved this I hope you enjoy!! Thank you so much for sending it in and thank you for your patience 💕💕

Warnings: None that I’m aware of.

Tom had gotten back just over two hours ago, a month long stretch of filming had seemingly left him very touch starved. He was quite literally all over you, kissing all over your face, keeping you cuddled into his chest, holding your hand. You were currently led on the couch, cuddling and watching a film.

You’d held it long enough but you needed to pee, moving Tom’s arm that was slung across your waist, you suddenly felt resistance as he pulled you back into his chest, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“Where are you going?” He asked as he kissed at the exposed skin of your neck.

“Tom, I need to empty my bladder.” You giggled as he huffed and reluctantly let you go. You moved from your comfortable spot on the couch, watching as Tom rolled onto his back, slight pout on his lips before making your way to the bathroom.

As soon as you were done you headed back to your doting boyfriend who instantly grabbed you and pulled you onto his chest, a slight ‘oomph’ leaving your lips as you collided with the toned area. Tom instantly wrapped his arms around you and you laughed.

“Are you trying to suffocate me?” You teased as he relaxed his grip slightly.

“Sorry, just missed you.” He said as he kissed the top of your head, you nuzzled in to his chest, leaving a kiss there.

“I was gone for like two minutes.” You pointed out and he groaned.

“No, I mean while I was away.” He clarified and you smiled, he never missed an opportunity to shower you in affection but this time when he’d gotten home it was like it had been dialled to a thousand.

**

This continued on for a solid two days, you went to make a brew? Tom’s arms would be around you. You went to load the washing machine? Tom was hovering. You found it endearing and slightly amusing, especially once Tess had gotten jealous of Tom having all your attention, last night had been amusing.

You were laying in bed, waiting for Tom to get out of the shower, he’d huffed when you declined his offer to shower with him. Tess jumping up onto the bed with you as she attempted to get under the duvet.

“Tess, it’s our secret that you sleep in here.” You laughed as you stroked her, tail instantly wagging at the affection as she licked at your cheek. It was strange that you and Tess had a mutual understanding, she only ever slept in yours and Tom’s bed when you were ill and in bed all day or when Tom was away filming.

It wasn’t that he hated her being in bed, he just preferred if she didn’t, but when he was away? You let her join you. However, tonight she was going to push her luck and get into bed with the two of you, you laughed as you caved and let her under the duvet with you. 

Tom appeared and flopped into bed, wrapping his arm around your waist when he felt Tess shift closer to you. She was attached to your side as she always was when she was sleepy. Tom stroked her head a few times before nuzzling his head into your back.

“Since when does Tess sleep in bed?” He asked and you shrugged.

“She wants a cuddle too.”

“You’d let her get away with anything.” Tom said as he pulled you closer to his chest, interlocking your legs.

“I would not.” You would. You do. “Just, she’s settled now, let her stay.” You begged and Tom breathed out a laugh before kissing the back of your head.

“Okay, but it’s gonna get too hot in here.” He said and of course he was right.

Ten minutes later and you were kicking your feet out of the duvet, you were now sweating as you were wedged between the two. Neither of them left an inch of space between your body and theirs, Tess was in a deep sleep and Tom’s breathing had almost evened out, signalling he was almost asleep.

You wiggled around as you tried to create some space, trying to lift Tom’s arm that was weighing heavy on your sweating figure. His grasp tightening as he attempted to keep you still but the heat was becoming unbearable as you huffed.

“Stop moving.” Tom grumbled, half asleep.

“I’m too hot.” You huffed out and Tom laughed.

“Told you, move Tess.” He said with a half hearted laugh.

“Tom, just shift over.” You huffed as you attempted to move his arm again.

“I don’t think so darling.”

“Come on, she’s asleep and you’re not.” You tried to reason.

“Nope. I’m not moving.” Tom said stubbornly, you weren’t going to win this one.

“So you want me to move Tess? She’s asleep and she’s comfy, plus you’re more hot than she is.” You tried again.

“Nice try sweetheart but no, if anyone is moving it’s Tess.”

“You’ll still be next to me.”

“Not close enough love. Besides Tess has had you all month, I haven’t.”

“You move her.” You said, hoping to not have to move the sleeping dog from her spot. It suddenly dawned on you that you were all sharing your side of the bed, Tom’s almost untouched. “Wait, just move back.” You said and Tom complied, shifting the two of you backwards and onto his side, away from Tess who was sprawled on your side.

The sheets were cooler on his side and you couldn’t be more thankful as you felt your sweating stop. Tess huffed in her sleep when she felt you move, waking up almost instantly to see where you’d gone. You watched as she stood up and moved closer to you again.

“Tess, come on. Out now.” Tom said as he pulled you into his chest, impossibly closer. “No, come on. You know you’re not supposed to be in here.” He said as she looked at him before huffing and jumping off the bed, finding her dog bed on the floor.

“That was mean.” You yawned out. “You should share you know.” You teased and Tom huffed.

“Not you baby.” He mumbled out quietly, sleep lacing his voice as he drifted off to sleep, you not far behind.

You were making a brew when your phone pinged, your friend having texted you to see if you wanted to go out for lunch. 

“Babe, I think I’m going out for lunch with (Y/F/N).” You said as you made your way into the living room where you’d managed to leave him this time.

“You’re going out?” He asked, almost deflated.

“Only for lunch. I’ll be like two hours.” You laughed.

“That’s so long.” He said as he grasped your hand, entwining your fingers as he rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand.

“It’s really not.” You snorted. 

“I just wanna stay in and cuddle you though.” He said.

“What is with you?” You asked him amused. “You’ve literally not let me out of your sight for three days.”

“I’ve missed you.”

“Tom, we’ve done this so many times. You’re never this needy.” You laughed as you poked his chest, he grasped your finger in his hand and held it to chest. 

“I’m not allowed to miss you?” He asked and you snorted again.

“I know you too well. What’s up?” You asked and he huffed.

“I don’t know, I just missed you so much. Like more than usual, all I could think about was how cold the bed was in my trailer and how much I missed having you next to me. I don’t know I realised how much I just don’t ever want to let you go. I know we’ve been together two years but this just felt different, I hated every second of being away from you.” He said and your heart melted.

“I realised something while I was away this time and I don’t wanna scare you off by saying it but I realised how much I want to marry you. I’m not asking right now but I just want you to know how much I love and appreciate you. How much you mean to me.” He said and you were sat there in shock. Tom Holland had just told you that he didn’t want anyone else, that you were all he wanted in life.

“Sorry, I don’t wanna scare you or put pressure on you.” He said sheepishly, completely misreading your shock. You snapped back to reality as you looked at him, a grin spreading across your lips as you threw yourself at him, cuddling into him.

“I love you too Tommy. I’d marry you tomorrow if I could. I don’t see myself with anyone else.” You said as you peppered his face with kisses.

“Sorry I’ve been so clingy baby,” he said as he moved a stray piece of hair from your face. “I’ve just missed you so much and I don’t know when I saw you for the first time in a month after coming to the realisation I want you forever. It was like a truck of emotions hit me and I don’t wanna let you go.”

“Don’t apologise for loving me Tom.” You smiled as you sat in his lap. “But I do need to go and see (Y/F/N).” Tom grinning at you.

“Okay baby,” he said as he kissed your temple. “Go have fun, i’ll be here when you get back.”

#tom holland blurb #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fluff

[ragingbookdragon]

And I Will Still Be Here Stargazing

Batsis x Batfamily Story

Word Count: 1.6K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I shouldn't be allowed to make new stories when I've already got WIP's to do. Oh well, HERE'S ANOTHER STORY! -Thorne

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

She glanced through the telescope once more, scanning the expanse of the night sky before her. Giddiness ran through her at the thought of seeing the supposed comet coming back around. Apparently, it was one that hadn’t been seen in two hundred years. It’d taken almost two whole days to convince her dad to let her go out on her own in the field three miles out of town.

Of course, that convincing came with a massive surprise—not—of taking a tracker with her just in case—being the only non-vigilante in her family did make her vulnerable to trouble, but most of their enemies wanted nothing to do with her, so she figured she was alright.

Pulling away from the scope, she felt her phone buzz in her pocket, and she sighed as she answered it, putting it to her ear. “Dad, I already told you, I’m fine.”

You weren’t answering your brothers’ texts. They were worried.

“Oh, for the love of—dad, I’m twenty-one. I shouldn’t have to check in every five freakin’ minutes.”

We worry about you, (Y/N).

“I know,” she griped. “C’mon, one night where I can actually be treated like I have a functioning brain inside my skull. Let me have it.” She glanced up again, seeing something streak across the sky. “Oh, there it is!” (Y/N) grinned. “I gotta go dad! I love you!”

Wait, (Y/N)—

Hanging up, she stowed the phone in her pocket before looking into the glass. “Oh wow,” she breathed. “It’s so beautiful…and big.” (Y/N) hummed and pulled back slightly. “Really, really big. Almost like it’s…coming to earth.”

She took a step back when she realized that was exactly what was happening. The comet, or whatever it was, was barreling towards the field near her and she gasped, taking another step back. Her foot slipped in the mud, and she fell, but the thought of being obliterated made her scramble to her feet and run as fast as she could away from it and while she wasn’t sure she’d outrun the devastation, she was going to try.

That being said, whatever it was, hit the ground with a thundering explosion, sending dirt and gravel flying, along with her and she screamed as she was thrown to the ground. (Y/N) covered her head, crying in pain as debris scraped her arms and legs, but she stayed still until the world calmed around her.

When it did, she peeked through her arms and gaped at the destruction around her. Trees had been blown from their roots and in the middle of where her telescope had once been, was something smoking inside a hollowed dip in the ground, dirt and rocks thrown away.

(Y/N) shakily got to her feet and crept closer, terrified that she was going to find some horror movie come alive. Alien and Predator stuck in the back of her mind and part of her wanted to flee. The other part—and curse her Wayne curiosity—wanted to know what it was.

“Hello?” she whispered as she neared the rim of the crater, peering in. A groan sounded and she gasped, pulling away before she took another glance and she saw a woman. At least it looked like a woman.

Her body was unlike anything familiar to (Y/N), in the form of an average woman, but she had no skin. Instead, her body looked like the night sky, swirling pools of stars and dark matter, and her hair was long and white, shimmering like glitter. Her hips and wrists were plated with some type of metal, gold and inlaid with what looked like diamonds.

(Y/N) slid down the side of the crater against her better judgement, nearing the woman carefully. “Hello?” she called again. “Are you alright?” The woman groaned and rolled onto her back, eyes opening at her. She gasped at the white eyes, like stars.

“Help,” she weakly moaned.

Hurrying over, she knelt beside the woman. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” She reached out to touch the woman but stilled when she felt the warmth radiating off her body.

“Please…help me,” she begged. “They’re…coming.”

(Y/N) shook her head and took the woman’s hand; it made her skin tingle. “Who’s coming?”

“The Insentients,” the woman said. “They’re coming in a years’ time.”

“I…I don’t understand,” she replied. “What are Insentients?”

“Terrible creatures that destroy life.” The woman grasped her hand. “I am Astra, Queen of the Stars. And you must help me.” (Y/N) couldn’t believe a thing she was hearing, simply gaping at her. “I have battled the Insentients for billions of years, but I am at my end.” She squeezed tightly, reaching up to cup (Y/N)’s cheek, white eyes widening. “You must take my place as queen and protect the life of this galaxy.”

She couldn’t even form words, mouth opening and closing like a fish and all she could muster was, “I’m sorry? What?”

Astra coughed and something splattered on (Y/N)’s clothes before fading from sight. “Please, you must do this or life as you know it will cease in one year. Take my place.”

“But I’m—I’m not some alien queen! I’m a human!” She spluttered. “What do I even do?!”

The queen sighed tiredly. “Child, nothing will stop the Insentients unless you help. They will destroy all in their path.”

(Y/N) shook her head and happened to glance towards the sky. “The stars,” she breathed. “They’re so…dull.”

“My life is fading…so they are too.” Astra whispered. “They will die.”

“What?!” she shouted. “But the sun?! It’ll go out!”

“Yes.” The queen murmured.

Bewildered, she asked, “What can I do?”

Astra gazed at her. “Take my power. Be reborn as the Queen of the Stars.”

“How do I?” She questioned and Astra took (Y/N)’s hands, placing them on her chest.

“Grasp my heart.”

“Grasp your what?” she repeated.

“My heart.” The woman’s chest opened, and she stared in surprise as a small, but brilliant light came into view. “Bring it to your own.”

“I better not die,” (Y/N) deadpanned as she cupped the light carefully. Her fingers tingled like she was being shocked, and she swallowed thickly as she brought it up to her chest, just above her heart. “What now?” she asked, and Astra’s form began to fade, starting at her feet.

“Your body will absorb all that I am…all that I…have been.” She smiled. “Place it within your chest.”

“That’s not possible.” (Y/N) retorted, though she moved her hands against her chest. “My body can’t just absorb—holy shit it’s working,” she blurted, and she went still as her something jolted her spine, all the way up her spinal cord to her brain.

Her jaw went slack as he eyes widened, head tipping back to stare at the sky above her. Memories flashed across her vision, faster than she could keep track of and then her mind felt like it was imploding. She let out a strangled gasp and tipped backwards, fatigue overcoming her. The last thing she remembered was Astra’s eyes and her smile before she disappeared from sight and (Y/N) descended into darkness.

***

When she came to, all she could think about was the pounding headache in her skull and the lack of memory the night before. (Y/N) sat up and looked around. The sun was high in the sky and her telescope was sitting neatly where it had been. She blinked, feeling as though she’d forgotten something important. When she couldn’t remember, she shrugged and got to her feet, beginning to take the scope apart and put it away.

(Y/N) rolled the sleeping bag up and put it in the tote, carrying both back towards the side of the road. Her butler should’ve been around to pick her up but when she didn’t see him, she frowned. Huh…I thought Alfie was coming to pick me up? Blinking in confusion, she patted her pocket for her phone and pulled it out, though her eyes went wide when she saw the shattered screen and burnt phone.

“What the hell?” she questioned. “What happened to my phone?” It looked like it’d been blown up. Now she was really confused. What the hell happened last night? (Y/N) sighed heavily and shoved the phone in her pocket. “I guess I’m walking then.” She grunted and heaved the telescope and sleeping bag over her shoulders, starting back towards the city in the distance.

***

GCPD was the first important building she came upon and as tired as she was, she knew they’d let her use one of their phones to call home. (Y/N) lethargically wandered into the department, stopping near the counter.

“Excuse me, can I use your phone?”

The man at the counter looked up and suddenly shot to his feet. “(Y/N) Wayne!” he shouted, and she blinked.

“Uh…yeah, that’s me?”

He rubbed his eyes. “Holy shit, you’re here.” Gesturing to her, he added “Wait right there! Don’t move!”

“Wait, but I—” the man sprinted off and she sighed. “Great. Probably going to get everyone so we can do pictures.”

Next thing she knew, Commissioner Gordon was running into the entry way. “Miss Wayne!”

(Y/N) looked at him. “Yes sir. That’s me.” She pointed to the phone at the desk. “I was wondering if I could use the phone to call home? Mine’s…busted.”

He reached out, grasping her arms. “Are you hurt? We should get you checked out immediately.”

“I’m fine?” she answered confusedly. “What’s going on? Why is everyone panicking?”

Gordon gaped at her. “You don’t know what’s going on?” she shook her head. “(Y/N), you’ve been missing for an entire week.”

#batfamily x reader #batfamily x reader imagines #batfamily x reader imagine #batfamily imagines #batfamily imagine #batfamily #batfamily x batsis #batfamily x batsis imagines #batfamily x batsis imagine #batsis x batfam #batsis x batfamily #batsis x batfamily imagines #batsis x batfamily imagine #batsis imagines #batsis imagine #batsis #bruce wayne #batman #dc comics #dc imagines #dc imagine #dc