#and later on his father tries to get him to take over Sugar Round

[nebulous-tundra]

i have an odd question but like…what does C&R even do? what do they sell? like do the rfa members go into like a grocery store and realize it’s named “C&R groceries” ??

no this is a totally valid question! C&R is a corporate conglomerate, like Warner Bros, or Johnson & Johnson. basically it's a company that own's other companies that make/do things. (for reference: FMCG stand for Fast Moving Consumer Goods)

this is the fundamental structure, but here are some real life examples:

groceries is actually a funny thing to mention because iirc Zen tries to accuse Jumin's company of hurting local grocery stores by driving sales away from them, but imports like groceries isn't actually something C&R specializes in! (for reference: SME stands for Small and Medium-sized Enterprises)

so, knowing all this, we can guess that C&R own's brands that specialize in export, and through a quick google search it looks like South Korea's top exports are electronics, machinery, and vehicles. we also know from Jumin's own mentions that they have other projects like fashion, wine, and.....cat accessories....

so, would an RFA member walk into The C&R Store? no, but would, say, and RFA member eat a snack brand that's owned by C&R? wear a coat that that's parent company is C&R? get to work in a car or bus was manufactured by a company that is also owned by C&R? probably. my understanding is C&R is as large as Hyundai or Samsung, but has specializes in more than just cars or electronics, and so has more products they can claim sales off of.

we don't actually get much information on C&R aside from what it is and what some of their products are, but this seems to be the gist of it. if Cheritz does give us any more info on C&R in The Ssum, i dearly hopes it's what the heck the C and R even stand for, Cats & Rants? lol it's clearly a play on Procter & Gamble but i wanna know!! **obligatory i did not go to college, let alone major is business, so if anyone has anything to note, please do!

[inter-fandomfollower]

*Leonardo x Fem! Reader* A Princess and a Frog Au pt 2

Story Prompt: Leonardo is the second eldest prince to the Kingdom of Shangrao. You're a woman who works to make a dream become a reality in New Orleans.

Who could guess that with new experiences, new dangers lurk around every corner?

Italics + 🎶 means singing

Years Later

As the same door to the bedroom opened, in walked you, but as a grown 19 year old woman and you were exhausted from work.

You begrudgingly closed the door with your back and kicked off your shoes with a tired look on your face. You then took off your apron and walked over to your dresser.

As you opened the top drawer, canisters of coins and some dollars could be found inside it.

"Well, that was a rough night, but every little bit helps."

You emptied the money out of one of your aprons pocket and closed the drawer. You reached into the other pocket of your apron to find the same picture your dad gave you.

A smile was plastered on your face as you placed the picture on your mirror. Right next to the mirror was a framed photo of your father when he went to war, and a medal hanging on a corner of the frame of the photo.

"Don't worry, Dad."

You placed a kiss to your pointer and middle finger and pressed it against the framed photo.

"We'll be there soon."

Tired and fatigued, you trekked over to your bed. Not even bothering to take off the rest of your apparel, you body slammed onto your bed, almost immediately dozing off into slumber.

However, the sweet release of sleep never came, as the alarm clock rang not even a minute later.

You pressed your toes onto the alarm clock to shut it off. You reluctantly got up and opened your wardrobe closet. You hastily took off your night waitress job's little bonnet.

"Good night, Cal's."

You grabbed your other waitress uniform from the small wardrobe closet.

"Good morning, Duke's."

Time quickly passed as you left the house and caught up to the trolley as it headed into town.

~🎶In the south land, there's a city🎶

🎶Way down on the river🎶~

You were reading a magazine on cooking, not noticing a man looking at you.

~🎶Where the women are very pretty🎶~

Just as the man was about to you a flower, you got off at your stop. And much to the man's disappointment, another guy on the trolley wasn't to fond of the flower, seeing as how it looked like it was being gestured to him.

~🎶And all the men deliver🎶~

Just as you stepped off the trolley, a brass band accidentally cut you off from getting to your job.

~🎶They got music, it's always playing🎶

🎶Start in the daytime, go all through the night🎶~

Just as the brass band seemed to end, a man with a trombone caught you off guard.

~🎶When you hear that music playing🎶~

Another member of the band began to dance with you, but you excused yourself from him to get to your job.

~🎶Grab somebody, come on down🎶~

You flawlessly handed out each order to the people at the front counter.

~🎶Bring your paintbrush, we painting the town🎶~

You began adding honey drizzle to some freshly baked beignets.

~🎶There's some sweetness going 'round🎶~

Just as you finished adding the powdered sugar onto the beignets, you handed them to a serious looking military soldier.

~🎶Catch it down in New Orleans🎶~

As soon as the man took a bit out of a beignet, he smiled and saluted to you.

You smiled and saluted back, but not before you were tapped on the shoulder by the cook, Chef Rupert.

He tossed the ordered food and drinks to you and thankfully you were able to catch them all.

~🎶We got magic, good and bad🎶~

A man by the name of Baron Draxum, more commonly referred to as the Shadow man, was performing a Tarot card reading for a man.

~🎶Make you happy or make you real sad🎶~

The man turned out to hide his bald head under a hat, to which Baron Draxum gave him something that would give the man hair.

~🎶Get everything you want🎶~

The man soon afterwards tried to flirt with a women with his new look.

~🎶Lose what you had🎶~

The women screamed in fright and smacked the man with her purse, to which he could see his reflection in a window and he turned out to hair all over himself!

~🎶Down here in New Orleans🎶~

Baron Draxum chuckled at the man's reaction and flicked the coin he received as payment into his inner coat pocket.

~🎶Hey, partner! Don't be shy🎶~

The honking of a car horn caught Draxum's attention, and it turned out to be Mr. La Bouff.

~🎶Come on down, yeah and give us a try🎶~

A kid was giving out newspapers and Mr. La Bouff paid him with a big stack of cash and he drove off as the kid thanked him.

~🎶If you wanna do some livin' before you die🎶~

Draxum's shadow opened his jacket, took out the coin, and gave it back to his physical self, both feeling angry.

~🎶Do it down in New Orleans🎶~

As Mr. La Bouff was reading the newspaper, it read; Prince Leonardo comes to Crescent City - The second eldest, and eldest twin prince of Shangrao arrived this morning in Crescent City, as it is his final stop on his whirlwind tour of the US. Rumor has it that the eligible prince is looking for a bride.

The scene changed to Prince Leonardo making his debut at the docks. As quick as a flash, he ripped his formal attire off to reveal casual ones underneath.

The prince quickly grabbed his ukulele from his royal valet, Warren. He then slid down the railings to some ladies at the bottom. As the brass band was walking by the pier, Leo decided to join them, with the women following along.

As Warren was trying to get down the stairs with all the prince's luggage in his hands, he slipped on the prince's crown. He came tumbling down, as the crown landed right side up on his bum.

~🎶Stately homes and mansions🎶~

The La Bouff mansion came into view as Mr. La Bouff's car pull up to gate and Lottie got into the car.

~🎶Of the sugar barons and cotton kings🎶~

Mr. La Bouff gives his daughter the newspaper and she squeals reading that a prince was visiting Crescent City.

~🎶Rich people, poor people all got dreams🎶~

You were currently outside, giving a man his coffee and cleaning up another outside table. Leo happened to be passing by and tried to flirt with you, but you just rolled your eyes with an amused smile on your face.

~🎶Dreams do come true in New Orleans🎶~

[thelampisaflashlight]

A Home Below Pt. 2: Welcome

[Mountain and Swiss meet the new neighbors, and get some unexpected insight from Dew. Primarily from Swiss' POV. Mentions of implied past nonconsensual body modification.] Below the cut.

"Who's that?" a tiny voice asks as Swiss rounds the corner into the main part of the basement with Mountain, making both ghouls pause.

Turning to follow the voice, Swiss furrows his brow as he catches sight of two figures standing in the adjacent hallway; A man about his height with dyed blue hair and mismatched eyes -he recognizes him, he's one of the custodians, but he can't recall his name- and a small child he's never seen before, with strawberry blond curls and bright blue eyes.

Mountain pokes his head out curiously to see what the hold up is before reeling backwards, startled.

It's only then that Swiss recalls that neither of them are glamoured.

Not that the custodians haven't seen them like this before, they do clean the den for them after all, but he highly doubts the kid has ever seen a ghoul before.

And, honestly, that's probably the most unsettling part of this sudden encounter.

The kid.

Why is there a kid??

Said child waves, which seems to set the adult with them further on edge to the extent that Swiss can smell the anxiety rolling off of him.

It's a subtle, sweet smell... and something about it triggers something in Swiss' memories about this custodian in particular.

Swiss calms himself with a deep breath and offers a small wave, elbowing Mountain to come out and do the same, giving the earth giant a look that he hopes reads as "It's chill".

Mountain pops back into view and gives a nod in the pair's direction.

The kid's eyes go wide.

"You're so tall!"

Mountain beams, giving a small grin, "I am."

"Bug, it's not polite to talk about strangers' appearances like that..." the man lightly scolds, then looks to them, and this time Mountain gets a whiff of his scent as well.

Not a threat.

Just nervous.

Maybe a little scared even.

Mountain puts a slouch in his back to avoid making himself too big, and Swiss snorts.

"You're... uh, you're one of the custodians, yeah?" Swiss asks a touch awkward, unable to remember the man's name, "Jay...?"

"Jeremy Durand." he replies, taking the child's hand into his own, "...and this is Whitney, my son."

"Ohhh..."

Looking at the kid again, it's... Swiss would like to say it should be obvious that the boy is his, but, really, the only thing about Whitney that seems to even remotely resemble his father is his nose.

"He looks like his grandma." Jeremy says, as if seeing Swiss' confusion, but before the ghoul can apologize for being rude, Whitney, bless him, saves his hide.

"It's true! I look like Granny!" he chirps happily, "She says it's 'cause Dad got all of Grandpa's pants and I got hers... but Granny's pants are too big for me to wear, so I dunno..."

"Not jeans like the pants, Bug, genes like..." Jeremy sighs, "I'll explain later."

"So-" Swiss chuckles, then asks, curious, "Is it bring your kid to work day?"

"Ah... well, I..." Jeremy runs his hand over his neck, "...I thought Elijah explained... It's complicated, but Whitney and I will be... will be staying here."

Swiss blinks.

"Really?"

Jeremy nods.

"Well, that means we're neighbors then!" Swiss smiles, "Welcome!"

"...T-Thank you." Jeremy mumbles, clearly uncomfortable with... something, and then Swiss remembers.

"Oh, sh-" he glances at Whitney, covering his mouth, "Sugar Snaps, right my teeth, sorry."

"'s okay..."

Whitney looks up at his father, squeezing his hand, and in the smallest voice says something barely audible to human ears, but that the ghouls can hear loud and clear...

"It's okay, Dad. It's okay..."

Swiss tries not to show it on his face, but there's something about such a small child trying to comfort their parent because they're scared -because they're scared of THEM, him and Mounty- that makes him feel a bit like a dick, even if he hasn't done anything wrong... yet.

In so far as he knows at least.

Jeremy's hand visibly shakes in the child's grip, but Swiss pretends not to see it, and instead turns to Mountain, bidding the pair goodbye and dragging his friend down the hallway, hopefully in the opposite direction of where the family needs to go.

Once they're out of sight, Swiss lets go of Mountain's arm and breathes a sigh of relief.

"Neighbors, huh?" Mountain drawls, "...Somehow I don't think Mr. Durand is particularly... pleased with the idea."

Swiss bites his lip and then releases it with a tsk.

"Guess we'll have to do something about that then."

"Swiss-"

"Nothing bad!" Swiss interjects quickly, "...Something to make them feel more at home? Although, I don't think our usual methods for welcoming new ghouls is gonna work here."

"Ghouls?" Mountain questions, looking back down the hallway.

"I could be wrong, but... that guy, you could smell him, right?" Swiss whispers, "...He doesn't smell like a human, and the kid... I dunno, they just smell like us, kind of, ya know? And I kind of vaguely remember hearing something about him... but I don't remember exactly what it was."

"I did smell... something." Mountain admits, "That would explain why they're letting them live down here... I mean, there is the upstairs dorms for the human clergy and the ghouls, but if he has a kit, he probably doesn't want him mixed in with the other adult ghouls right from the get-go, it's safer down here, less people."

Swiss nods.

"Gotta give the folks upstairs some credit, they at least thought this through to some extent... Still though, they're being pretty accommodating all things considered, more than you'd expect them to be." he hums, "Even if the guy has a kit, there are ghouls AND clergy members raising children upstairs. There's gotta be more to the reason why he's getting a room down here..."

"It could have something to do with who his kit's other parent is? Or perhaps he has some connections with the higherups? He did say 'Elijah' earlier, he could mean Brother Elijah, he is the supervisor..." Mountain muses, "Or it could be because the custodial office is down here, and none of the other staff members in that department live on the property."

"How do you know that?" Swiss asks.

"I often work with the other members of that department when it comes to the upkeep of the greenspaces around the abbey." Mountain says, "They keep things tidy and make sure the sheds are stocked."

"Huh, the more you know..." Swiss nods, "At any rate... We should probably hightail it to practice before Papa sends Dew down here to drag us upstairs by our napes."

Mountain raises his tail, "I hate when he does that, he always bites so hard..."

"Personally, I kinda like it-"

.

.

.

Swiss scratches at the bite mark on his neck, grumbling along with Mountain, who's sitting off to the side licking a matching one on his hand, "You don't have to draw blood, ya know, you could just give me a lil' nibble and I'll do whatever you want me to..."

"Only good boys who get to practice on time get 'lil nibbles'." Dew puffs a bit of steam out of his gills, "I dunno what you two were up to, but at least keep it in your pants until AFTER 5 o'clock, damn..."

"For you information, we were originally going to be on time, but we had to make a little detour to greet our new neighbors." Swiss sniffs.

"Tom-Tom and Aurora are already here, numb nuts, come up with a better excuse." Dew rolls his eyes.

"Not them, our new-new neighbors." Mountain chimes in, "A father and son."

"For real?"

Swiss nods.

"It's one of the newer custodians, Jeremy De... something..."

"Tell me it's not DeFroque..."

"Wait, not De, it was Du... I think it was Durand?" Swiss says, "Yeah, it was Durand. Nice enough guy, nervous as Hell though."

Dew raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms, "That name does sound weirdly familiar..."

"You've met him before?" Mountain asks.

"Not exactly, at least not recently..." Dew shakes his head, "I think I might've read the name off of a list at some point, but if it's the one I'm thinking of, then it makes sense why they'd send him downstairs."

"How so?"

Dew hesitates, his expression... conflicted.

"...Back when Ter-" he clears his throat, "When Papa's predecessor was still in charge, there was an incident involving a lesser branch of the church. They were... fanatical."

"I don't really know much about it myself, Omega only briefly mentioned the situation to me, because he had to go with... ya know... to handle things. When he got back, he wouldn't talk about what exactly happened, but there were these... I guess they were ghouls?"

"You guess?"

"It's hard to describe, they were... in a bad way." Dew settles on finally, "Like something had gone wrong in the ritual. I think there were eight...? Maybe nine? Of them in total... Anyway, this was sometime before you or even Mounty were summoned, so you might not know this, but all of the regular ghouls' dorms were downstairs at the time, and us band ghouls were upstairs."

"...That would explain why there were so many rooms to choose from when I was summoned." Swiss hums, "So these ghouls stayed in the den then?"

Dew nods.

"We, obviously, didn't interact with them much. Omega did, but he didn't talk about what was going on down there at the time." he explains, "One time, though, he was talking about this one ghoul in particular, and how they were sick, like really sick, but wouldn't let anyone near them in order to check on them, but one of the human clergymen was able to approach... Uhh, ya know, what's his face..."

"Brother Elijah?"

"That's the bitch!" Dew chirps, then clears his throat again, "But yeah, somehow he was able to get through to them. I guess it's because he used to be some kind of crisis worker or whatever they're called... Well, anyway, he managed to get a name out of them, and I'm pretty sure it was Durand, because they had, like, this list that Omega had to look through and try and find family members, or, like, co-workers, neighbors... people who knew them before, and that's where I saw it."

Swiss frowns, mulling over this new information, and then...

"How... How old was the kid do you think?" he asks, looking to Mountain, whose face contorts as he realizes what the other ghoul is asking.

"I... I'm not sure... Maybe six or seven..."

"There weren't any children among the ghouls at the time, but it's possible they could have been born after the fact... Fuck." Dew rubs his chin, "Could've even been born here."

"Going with the nicer option of after... why come back here now? If this is the same Durand?" Mountain wonders, "You said it made sense, I'm still not quite following as to why..."

"Well, wouldn't you want to go somewhere familiar? Safe? With someone who you trust close by in case you need them? I don't know why they'd come back here otherwise, but, ya know, a lot of people come here because they have nowhere else to go..." Dew clicks his teeth, "I could also be talking out my ass on all of this, man, it has been YEARS since I thought about any of that..."

"But the name stuck out to you, so that has to mean something, right?" Swiss counters, "...What happened to the others?"

"Not sure..." Dew shrugs, "There's only one other ghoul from that incident that's still in residence here, but they live in the dorms with the human clergy, and they're honestly kind of weird."

"How so?"

"Walks on all fours all the time, glows in the dark like a radioactive sleep paralysis demon, dislikes other ghouls ...except for fucking Aeth for some reason..." Dew mutters.

"Why do you sound so bitter about that, hm~?" Swiss teases.

"...Get you instruments out, practice is starting soon. Count yourselves lucky that we're starting later than usual, because Cumulus called and said she'd be late because she's running errands."

Swiss gasps.

"If you knew practice would be starting late, why did you bite us then?!"

"...Maybe I just wanted to bite you, ever thought about that?"

"You-"

.

.

.

So far, Whitney isn't sure if he likes their new house.

His dad seems sad, but also... hungry?

He's not sure how to explain a feeling like that, like hungry, but for happiness?

Like he's a little low on happy, yeah.

Chicken nuggets and Oreos make Whitney happy.

And Granny's bedtime stories, and Dad's hugs.

Looking around their new kitchen, Whitney can't find any Oreos or chicken nuggets, and Granny lives far, faaaar away now, so she can't tell him a story unless he uses Dad's phone so...

Whitney pads softly across the wood floor, Dad gave him his favorite slippers to wear, the ones that look like dinosaurs eating his feet, and nudges the door to the big bedroom -Dad's new room- open.

"...Dad?"

"Yeah, Bug?" his father looks up from sorting through some boxes, he's not shaking like he was earlier, but he still seems a bit sad.

Whitney holds his arms up.

"Hug?"

His dad smiles, "Sure."

Dad's hugs never fail to make him feel better, so Whitney hopes his hugs can help him feel better, too.

"It's gonna be okay..." Whitney mumbles, squishing his face into his father's shoulder.

Granny always says stuff like that when Dad is sad, when Whitney knows he's supposed to be in bed, but can't sleep.

They talk about a lot of things he doesn't understand, but he knows sometimes it's about him, even if they switch to the fancy language Granny tried to teach him.

French fry or something like that.

"You really do take after your grandma, you know that?" His dad pats his back, "The good parts anyway."

"I got the good pants."

A laugh.

"Sure, Bug, sure you did."

[foggyfanfic]

Mirabel's Super Secret Adventure

Movie AU

Chapter Preview: “Because I’m fine, tell him I’m fine, everything is fine,” Luisa said in a rush, gesturing emphatically.

“Tío Bruno didn’t tell me to say that,” Mirabel frowned at Luisa, “but uh, if he is telling you to relax you should maybe listen to him? I mean, he can see the future, maybe-.”

Prologue Prev Next Masterlist

3. No Pressure

The first thing Mirabel tried was just putting her hand over the cracks and willing them to close. Supposedly she had miracle magic stored up in her heart, right? She figured it had to be worth a shot.

However, no matter how hard she focused, it didn’t work. She wasn’t surprised, a little disappointed, but not surprised. It was like when her Má was helping Tía Pepa and Tío Félix after they’d been gifted one too many rounds during their anniversary party at the cantina.

“I can fix the symptoms, but until you drink some water they’re just going to keep coming back,” her Má had said with a wry smile as the usually boisterous couple squinted queasily back at her, “you need to treat the cause if you want real progress.”

Whatever was happening, the cracks were a symptom, not the source of the problem.

Eventually, Mirabel gave up on that and went back to the nursery, although she left the ladder in the hole in case she wanted to go back. Her clothes were dusty from her climbing in and out of the hole, and there was still enough time before breakfast the next morning for her to at least get a nap, so she changed into her night dress.

She worked on a few sketches for Camilo until she thought she might be able to sleep, then went to bed. Allowing the problem of the cracks to settle into the back of her mind for her subconscious to deal with.

If sleeping on it worked when she was having problems with an embroidery project, she figured it’d work for this too.

Sure enough, when she woke for breakfast a few hours later, she had a few ideas for what she would do next. First, she needed to get into Luisa’s room, so she could check for cracks. Second, she should definitely ask Dolores if she knew anything. And if she hadn’t figured out what was happening by then, she might have to talk to Isabela.

But hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.

Mirabel ate breakfast with her family, doing her best to pretend everything was normal. Camilo raised an eyebrow at her and Mirabel glanced meaningfully at Gabriel, who had made a point to sit beside her and quietly ask if she’d gotten enough sleep the night before.

She’d tried lying “Yes, of course! Loads of sleep!” but Gabriel had frowned, clearly unconvinced.

Camilo followed her gaze, then looked around the table, he grinned evilly.

“Hey, Amada?” Camilo called, casually pouring himself some coffee, “How’s your ankle?”

“My what?” Amada asked, mouth full. Abuela cleared her throat and Amada swallowed her food, cheeks red, then repeated, “My what?”

“Your ankle, didn’t you roll it last night?” Camilo asked.

Beside Mirabel, Gabriel turned to look at Amada, who was sitting between him and their father. Bruno looked first at Camilo, then at Gabriel, he sighed through his nose and poured himself more coffee.

“No I didn’t?” she frowned at Camilo, confused, not yet realizing what was coming her way.

“Really? It looked like you did,” Camilo did his best to look just as confused.

“Why didn’t you say something,” Julieta interjected before Amada could argue, “do you need an arepa?”

“What? No, thank you Tía, I’m fine,” Amada looked a little startled now, “I-.”

“Amada, if you rolled your ankle, you really should take the arepa,” Gabriel said, and Mirabel watched the realization bloom across Amada’s face. Beyond her Tío Bruno gave her a pitying look as he raised the mug to his lips, and beyond him Tía Leandra looked from the cup of straight black coffee, to the cream and sugar Bruno usually used, and back again with clear concern.

Amada turned to glare at Camilo, saying through gritted teeth, “I didn’t roll my ankle.”

“No, I’m pretty sure you did, you were dancing with that boy and-.”

Tío Bruno wasn’t quite chugging his coffee so much as drinking it very quickly.

“What boy?” Gabriel asked, face paling.

“Oh, I don’t know his name,” Camilo pretended to think about it, before brightly saying, “this one!”

And then he turned into Lucas Fernandez, who just so happened to have been the biggest jerk in Gabriel’s age group at school. Amada immediately burst out with an exclamation of disgust, and fervent denial, that was just as immediately muffled when the sunlight coalesced into a protective bubble around her.

“Gabriel mijo,” Tío Bruno said gently, putting his empty mug down on the table, “Camilo is just messing with you.”

“Oh.” The bubble disappeared.

Camilo burst out laughing while Amada yelled at him and Gabriel scowled. Félix swallowed a smile then did his best to lecture Camilo, despite his amusement. At the head of the table Abuela sighed and shook her head.

“If you boys are so bored as to pick fights with one another,” she called above the chaos, and the noise died down, “I suggest you volunteer down at the school today. They’re starting the nine year olds on multiplication this week.”

 “Sí Abuela,” Gabriel said.

“Sure,” Camilo grinned easily.

They both enjoyed working with the kids, in fact, when they were helping at the school Camilo and Gabriel were actually able to find some middle ground and work well together. So, it was Abuela's go-to way of handling any disagreements (or pranks) between them.

And it also meant Gabriel would be busy all day.

When nobody was looking, Camilo winked at Mirabel. She grinned. Maybe she would embroider “Genius” into his shirt collar.

Abuela spent the rest of breakfast handing out jobs to prepare for the engagement that night. Predictably, Luisa was given a long list of things that needed carrying from one place to another, a list that would likely take her out of the house until the early evening.

That was for the best, Mirabel could think of plenty of reasons why she might go into Luisa’s room, but she couldn’t think of an excuse for why she might stand around Luisa’s room squinting at the walls.

“-Octavia, I would like it if you could take a break from your lessons today to make a gazebo for the celebration,” Abuela was saying, referring to Octavia’s architecture lessons, “Not too big, of course, something simple, something Isabela can decorate as she sees fit.”

Octavia glanced at her mother, who said, “If you spend the day practicing gazebos you should be ready to build one by tonight.” 

Hearing this, Octavia grinned at Abuela and snapped off a little salute. Abuela smiled back at her, and gave her a quick nod.

Ten years ago, a few months after Mirabel’s gift ceremony, Octavia had been found by the merchants on one of their trips out of the city, toddling along the road with no hint of a parent in sight. The merchants had taken her into the city and asked around, but nobody claimed her, so they brought her back to Encanto and gave her to Tío Bruno and Tía Leandra to raise. She was two at the time.

Or, at the very least, she was a toddler and her door appeared three years later, so they figured she must have been two.

Her gift allowed her to draw the ground up and mold it like clay into any shape she wanted, a gift the local architect had immediately wanted to put to use. He was having a hard time keeping up with the ever growing village, especially since he didn’t have a team of builders, and had to rely on volunteers to make anything. 

Unfortunately for him, five year old Octavia hadn’t known the first thing about architecture. So she had spent the last seven years learning. When she had time outside of her normal schooling and chores, of course.

According to Tía Leandra, Octavia was still having a hard time with molding large, stable, structures. She had had Octavia demonstrate the problem to Abuela and the architect. Apparently, because Octavia didn’t know how much material she would need to make the house, she usually overestimated and pulled up too much earth. The excess always ended up at the top, and unevenly distributed over the walls, creating a top heavy house with multiple weak points.

The solution to this problem was, quite simply, to practice. Something Octavia did with her mother every day.

“And Mirabel,” Abuela said, Mirabel perked up, simultaneously hoping Abuela wouldn’t give her a chore so she’d have time to investigate, and that Abuela would actually give her something useful to do for once, “Gabriel is right, you look like you need some rest. How about you go back to bed and get some more sleep? I don’t want you nodding off at dinner tonight.”

Her heart sank, even as she reminded herself that this would make it easier to get things done. She started to nod, then a thought occurred to her.

“I’ll um try, b-but I’m just so excited about everything,” she put on a big grin, “you know, with Antonio’s gift and now Isabela’s engagement. I mean, wow! You know? Um, I’ll- Luisa! Do you have any clothes that need repairing? That would help me calm down.”

Mirabel smiled over at Luisa, who always had a torn something or other. She was the only person in the house who went through clothes faster than their Pá.

“Uh yeah, pretty sure, I’ll dig them out for you before I go,” Luisa said.

“Great,” Mirabel chirped.

Alright, excuse to be hanging around Luisa’s room? Taken care of! Mirabel was killing it today.

“Wonderful,” Abuela beamed at them, then turned to Pepa and began discussing when would be the best time to make a rainbow appear above the couple. When Mariano asked the question, or when Isabela said yes.

Still thinking about her investigation, Mirabel glanced over at Tío Bruno, and was surprised to find him giving somebody one of his patented “I can see the future and know you’re about to do something stupid” looks. Mirabel followed his gaze and found it pointed at Isabela, whose eyes kept flicking up to him then skittering away.

That was weird enough as is, Isabela was always so confident while Tío Bruno was usually the one to avoid eye contact. Even weirder, however, was when Tío Bruno eventually directed that look at Dolores instead, she just sighed morosely and shook her head at him.

Mirabel kept her eye on them for the rest of breakfast. Tío Bruno and Tía Leandra had mentioned something about Dolores and Isabela the night before, but it hadn’t sounded like it was connected to the cracks. Then again, Mirabel couldn’t rule it out, either. She couldn’t rule out anything at this point.

When breakfast ended she followed Luisa up to her room, at first still thinking about what she’d seen. Then she shook it off and bumped against Luisa’s giant arm.

“Did you enjoy the party last night?” Mirabel asked.

“Eh, a little, had a lot to do though,” Luisa shrugged, “we had to move all the snacks and stuff into Antonio’s room you know.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess so,” Mirabel frowned. The rooms given with the gifts didn’t always turn out to be party friendly. Where Isabela had gotten a spacious garden, their Má had gotten a dense little library full of cookbooks and medical journals; where Tío Bruno had a towering canyon with an intricate cave system, Tía Pepa had a mostly normal room with exceptionally high ceilings; where Octavia had a quarry, Camilo had a surprisingly cozy lounge he barely ever let anyone into. As such, they never planned as if they would be able to move the fiesta to a bigger venue, it was just wiser to plan for the limited space of Casita’s courtyard.

It had never occurred to Mirabel before, that this meant when the party did move into the new room, that created a whole bunch of extra work for Luisa.

She frowned up at her sister, was it just Mirabel’s imagination, or did Luisa look tense?

“I’m sorry you didn’t really get to enjoy the party,” Mirabel said, as she followed Luisa into her room. Luisa held the door open for her, then closed it, being careful to be gentle with it. Sometimes, if she wasn’t paying attention, she would accidentally slam her door. It was likely only due to the miracle that it hadn’t shattered to pieces yet.

“Ah, it’s fine, the only thing that matters is that Antonio had a good time, right?”

“I guess, but you deserve to have a bit of fun too.”

“Hey, come on, I have fun,” Luisa giving her a surprisingly startled look, but ultimately waved her off, “I lift weights with Tía Leandra and Tío Félix, they’re fun. And I get to spend a lot of time with the donkeys. It’s like hanging out with a petting zoo.”

“Yeah, but I mean, that’s work fun, you deserve to have, I don’t know, time to relax and stuff,” Mirabel said, she started to shrug her shoulders in a casual gesture but froze when Luisa gave her another, more intense sharp look.

“Why? Did Tío Bruno tell you to say that?!”

“Um-.”

“Because I’m fine, tell him I’m fine, everything is fine,” Luisa said in a rush, gesturing emphatically.

“Tío Bruno didn’t tell me to say that,” Mirabel frowned at Luisa, “but uh, if he is telling you to relax you should maybe listen to him? I mean, he can see the future, maybe-.”

“Ah ha! So he did send you,” Luisa pointed a finger at Mirabel’s face, “well tell him it’s not going to happen. I’m working extra hard to make sure.”

Mirabel stared at Luisa for a beat, then asked, “What’s not going to happen?”

“The thing he said would happen,” Luisa crossed her arms, agitatedly tapping her foot, “don’t act like you don’t know. Why else would you be telling me to relax?”

“Because you’re really tense?”

“I am fine,” Luisa yelled.

And then, a crack formed in the wall next to Luisa’s head.

Mirabel drew in a sharp breath. 

“Ah geez, I’m sorry hermanita,” Luisa tried to laugh it off, “that uh, that really came out of nowhere didn’t it? But really, everything is fine.”

The crack spread.

“Um Luisa,” Mirabel managed to find her voice, “w-what did Tío Bruno say was going to happen if you didn’t relax?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Luisa paled, the crack spread further, “he said it wasn’t certain.”

“But all of Tío Bruno’s visions are certain,” Mirabel pointed out.

“Not all of them, just most,” Luisa shrugged, actually seeming to relax a little, “he said he’s had one other vision that wasn’t set in stone.”

“Oh,” Mirabel frowned, puzzling over whether or not that was relevant information, then she shook her head and refocused on the matter at hand, “look, even if whatever Tío Bruno saw isn’t going to happen, you should still relax. You work harder than everybody. You deserve-.”

“Oh please, hard work is what I do,” Luisa suddenly launched herself past Mirabel, further into the room, “speaking of, I got chores to do! Let me grab you those clothes.”

Mirabel glanced at her over her shoulder as she marched off, then stepped closer to the crack. It had stopped growing. So, that was probably good?

What was it that made it appear in the first place? Luisa hadn’t been touching the wall at the time, she had just yelled and the crack appeared.

Was it yelling? Maybe it was lying?

With another glance over her shoulder to make sure Luisa wasn’t coming, Mirabel stepped even closer and whispered to the crack “I am a bright purple leopard.”

Nothing happened.

“Hm,” Mirabel backed up a few steps, and crossed her arms. So, it probably wasn’t lying. Although maybe she had to lie to another person? But Isabela hadn’t been lying last night, she had just been standing there making gooey eyes at Mariano.

She approached it again and put her hand on it, this time trying to dig deep within herself for some of that miracle magic that was supposedly stored within her heart.

More nothing happened.

With a sigh she dropped her hand and turned around to face Luisa’s room. If Mirabel had gotten a room, she would hope that it would be a lot like Luisa’s. Her room was dominated by an Olympic sized pool, the walls of which were covered in a beautiful mosaic that sparkled under the clear water. The sides of the pool were lined with rarely used wicker lounge chairs.

Off to one side of the room was a padded area with all of Luisa’s weights. To the other was a juice bar that Luisa almost never used, despite their Pá being careful to keep it fully stocked.

Beyond the pool, was a set of stairs that led up to a loft where Luisa’s bed and wardrobe were. And on either side of the stairs was a high dive for the pool.

Camilo and Amada had rigged up a rope swing as well, and when the weather got unbearably hot Luisa would let them take turns swinging into the pool. It was one of Mirabel’s favorite parts of the year, that peak of summer when not even Luisa was doing chores for fear of heat stroke. When everybody was home and she got to spend time with her whole family.

She sighed wistfully, then perked up when Luisa came back with a bundle of clothes. Convincing Luisa to relax more may be a bust, but Luisa loved pool parties just as much as Mirabel.

“Hey, I was just thinking,” Mirabel greeted her, “you want to have a pool party next week? You know, to welcome Mariano into the Cousins Club!”

Luisa blinked a couple times, then grinned a little, “That would be fun…”

“Right? And we could actually use that juice bar,” she tacked on.

Luisa gave the juice bar a sheepish look, “Ay, Pá does go through a lot of trouble to make sure everything is fresh.”

“So we should do it, right?”

“I might have chores to do,” Luisa hedged.

“Please Luisa,” Mirabel twisted so she could lean on her big sister for maximum puppy dog eyes, “for me?”

“I- alright, alright, if-, I mean we really should do what we can to make Mariano feel welcome,” Luisa chuckled, nodding.

“Exactly! This isn’t just a pool party, it’s an important family bonding pool party,” Mirabel agreed, “I’ll tell Abuela what we’re thinking, she’ll love it!”

“You think so?” Luisa asked, a flicker of uncertainty passing over her face, “I know everybody is counting on me, I don’t want to let anyone down.”

Mirabel reached out to accept the bundle of clothes, “Oh please, it’s not like you’re the only person in the village with a working pair of arms. Things won’t fall apart if you take one day off to spend with us.”

Mirabel tried to take the clothes, but Luisa didn’t let go, she had her head cocked to one side, “I guess… that’s true.”

“Uh, sí,” Mirabel looked from the clothes to Luisa and back again, “I mean, there’s a whole village of perfectly capable people out there, it would be, I don’t know, a little weird if the village really relied on you so much one day at the pool ground everything to a halt.”

Luisa didn’t respond other than a contemplative, “Hm.”

Mirabel wasn’t entirely sure what was happening in Luisa’s head, mostly because she felt the things she was saying were fairly obvious. Luisa was one person, sure she was a really strong one person, but she was still just one person.

Actually, now that Mirabel was really thinking about it…

“How many jobs are there in the village that actually need super strength anyways?” she asked, “I mean, people don't… ask you to like, I don’t know, plow their fields for them and stuff, right? Because, well, what if there’s an emergency that needs super strength but nobody can find you because that one guy let his donkeys out again and you’re off rounding them up?”

Luisa opened her mouth, then closed it, then said, “That’s a good point.”

“Is it?”

“It is,” Luisa slowly nodded, then abruptly pushed the clothes into Mirabel’s hands, “here, I gotta get my chores done, but uh, I’ll think about what you said.”

“Oh, ok,” Mirabel adjusted the clothes into a comfortably sized ball of cloth, turning back to the door. She didn’t get farther than a step before Luisa had scooped her up in her big arms.

“Thanks for this, I’m glad we had this talk,” Luisa said, her voice a little wobbly.

“Oh! You’re wel- anytime,” she replied, although it took her a beat to get over her surprise, she was happy to help in any way she could. Even if she felt like she was just stating the obvious.

Luisa put her down and rushed out the door, leaving it cracked open for Mirabel to follow. Pausing to adjust the bundle of blue and white clothes one more time, Mirabel glanced up to check on the crack.

But, just like with the one last night, it had disappeared.

[sebastianstangirl01]

Don’t Touch My Wife

Title: Don’t Touch My Wife

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Wife Reader

Warnings: Language, Inappropriate Phrases, Fighting, Sexual Comments

Summary: While helping Penny at the bar a customer doesn’t know how to take No as a answer, but Hangman teaches him his lesson.

Friday nights at The Hard Deck were wild to say the least, everyone wanted to let loose and have a good time after the long work weeks. You had graciously offered to help Penny out a few weeks ago when she was the only bartender able to work, since the other had to call in sick at the last second.

It’s safe to say that ever since that night you’ve helped out a lot; not having a job at the moment since Jake had decided that he wanted them to move permanently to Top Gun so he could only work on high profile missions, meaning he was able to be home a lot more. Which was very good for your relationship.

Jake knew that you were a force to be reckoned with many times he’s watched you put a man in their place, but sometimes his protective instincts as your husband are just too strong.

You were behind the bar pouring drinks for customers, Penny was leaning against the bar talking to Maverick since you told her you had everything under control. You kept your eye out for your husband who was suppose to be showing up soon with your friends but so far isn’t here yet.

“Hey Y/N do you mind to make the rounds tonight?” Penny asked coming to stand beside you

“No problem. Stay with your man.” You nodded with a smirk as she gave you a thankful smile, you were happy that she and Maverick are finally back together both of them deserve to be happy.

You grabbed your note pad and walked over to one of the tables with a silent groan, there sat 3 regulars who were probably in their late 40’s with beer bellies they were all pretty rowdy but there was one of the men who didn’t know how to take a hint. He always hit on you no matter how many times you turned him down.

“Hello, what can I get you gentlemen?” You asked politely trying not to squirm under their gaze

“Why hello there sugar, why don’t you bring me and my boys some beer. I’ll also take a slice of you.” The man who’s name you came to know was Jim, after the many times he’s tried to get your phone number.

“3 beers coming up.” You said with a forced smile before turning around and walking away, hearing the three talk about how ‘fine your ass was’ making you shiver. “Hey Pen, 3 beers please.”

“Those guys still giving you trouble?” Penny asked eyeing the 3 men still gawking over you at their table

“Nothing that I can’t handle.” You shook your head at the protective look on her face

“I’ll throw them out if you need me to Y/NN.” Maverick said jumping into the conversation, in the time that he has known you Maverick has formed a bond with you almost like a father and daughter; he’s very protective

“Thanks Mav. But I’ll be alright.” You said patting his shoulder as Penny handed you the beer’s

You gave them both a smile before turning around and walking back to the table, you sat down each of the beers before turning to walk away.

“Wait a second sugar.” Jim said grabbing your wrist making you snap your head around and glare at him

“Let go of me.” You said making the men chuckle

“Why don’t you stay, you have a seat right here on my lap.” Jim said patting his thighs, “then later I can show you what it is a real man does to a woman.”

“I’m only going to tell you this once. Let go of me right now.” You said, not noticing that your husband came through the door followed by your friends. Jakes gaze immediately found you before a glare came over his face seeing someone’s hands on you, he quickly started marching over towards you with the others right behind him.

“Such a shame. Such a nice ass.” Jim said dropping your wrist before smacking your ass making you gasp

“You son of a bitch!” You exclaimed grabbing his beer bottle and smashing it over his head

That’s when shit hit the fan, Jim’s friends jumped up from their seats while one of them helped their friend the other grabbed you tightly by the arm and slammed you against the table.

“Hey!” Jake yelled jumping into action, he grabbed the man off you and punched him in the face so hard the sickening crack of his nose was the only thing heard in the bar

Phoenix and Bob quickly grabbed you and moved you away from the chaos over to Penny who immediately wrapped you in her arms.

Rooster and Payback had grabbed the guy Jake punched and threw him out of the bar, Fanboy and Coyote grabbed the other man and threw him out as well while Jake grabbed Jim by the shirt and shoved him against the wall.

“If you ever touch my wife again I will kill you. Swear to god.” Jake growled with a face red from anger

“Maybe you shouldn’t let your slut of a wife parade around here dressed like a whore.” Jim said and before he could say another word Jake already punched him in the face and threw him onto the ground.

“Get that son of a bitch out of here.” Penny said with a glare as Payback and Fanboy grabbed Jim by the arms and threw him onto the sand by his buddies.

“Don’t ever come back.” Payback said before shutting the door

Knowing that everything was taken care of Jake immediately rushed over to where you were standing beside Phoenix and Maverick and pulled you into his arms.

“Are you ok baby?” Jake asked pulling away from you to look over your body for any sign of injury

“I’m fine Jake, I promise.” You said with a chuckle at his concern

“Are you sure?” Jake asked lifting you into the air by your underarms like a child making you laugh

“I’m sure.” You shook your head fondly as Jake put you back down

“I’m sorry that happened baby.” Jake sighed cupping your face as everyone went back to their business

“It’s ok, I’ve got my sexy protector of a husband to keep me safe.” You smirked wrapping your arms around his neck

“Damn right. I think we better head home so I can give you a full exam just to be safe.” Jake said in mock seriousness

“Only if you must.” You nodded playing along before squealing as Jake scooped you into his arms

“Penny my dear. My wife is clocking out for the night.” Jake said not even waiting for a response before carrying you out the door.

[myherowritings]

PART 5. THE INHERENT EROTICISM OF BUTTONING SOMEONE’S CLOTHES

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 3.0k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. sexual tension !! and umm sexual frustration ;p, not explicit but prob rated 16+, just read the title of this chapter BAHAHA

A/N. sorry this is coming a little later than planned ! :( but i hope the dressing room scene can make up for it u.u tysm for reading and for all the feedback! enjoy :3 xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

© myherowritings — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, copying, or translating of any kind is not allowed. do not read my writing as asmr. do not plagiarize.

What were you supposed to wear to a shopping date? you asked yourself. Not that today was a date or anything. Though maybe you sort of wished it were… 

The Naruhata Charity Gala was in a little over a week and Shouto would be coming over to pick you up in less than one hour and you still sat in your room with nothing but a towel on feeling more and more hopeless. 

It was a strange dilemma. He met you in your work apron wearing an unflattering work shirt and work pants. And when you met up over the weekend previously, you never paid too much mind on what you would wear. In fact, you were positive he wouldn’t even care how you looked. So why was it such a big deal to you now? 

Probably because of your recent admission of your growing feelings towards him, you thought crossly. 

In your defense, it wasn’t like it was your fault! Right? Seeing someone everyday… Wanting to see someone everyday… Texting regularly about the most random things, having the most banal objects you saw throughout the day remind you of something Shouto did or said… With all those occurrences it would’ve been practically impossible to not start crushing on him! 

Time passed as you stared at your ceiling blankly. If you kept this up, he was bound to show up in your house and find you half-naked. (Now that you mentioned it, that didn’t sound like the worst idea. But it wasn’t something you’d randomly spring upon someone.)

“Get up, Y/N!” you scolded yourself, rolling off your bed and heading towards your closet. 

In the end, you ended up settling for another variation of your usual go-to outfit and called it a day. It happened to be perfect timing since, by the time you finished getting ready, you got a new message on your phone. 

Shouto: Parked in front of your place

Shouto: Sorry I’m a little early. You can take your time getting ready :)

Y/N: it’s okay i’m ready now!! 

After hitting send, you put your shoes on, gathering your belongings you wanted to bring with you, and headed out the door. Excited to hang out with Shouto again, you walked with a skip in your step down the path until you reached his car. 

“Hi!” You waved through his half-opened, tinted window. To no one’s surprise, his car was a sleek black color with dark, tinted windows, and gold details along the sides. If it didn’t look so oddly sexy you would’ve laughed at how cutely dorky he was for matching his car with his credit card. “This is one hot car.”

He turned his head to the side when you entered the passenger’s seat. “Should I turn the AC higher?” 

“Huh— Oh!” You stifled a giggle when you processed the pun he made. “You’re funny, Shouto.” 

He only looked a little confused. “Thank you.” 

The interior of his car was no less—for lack of better term—sexy than the outside. Leather seats, a large screen for the radio and carplay, and the dashboard and side doors lit up a nice blue color. 

“Pretty!” you complimented, poking at the colorful light.

“Want to pick a color?” 

Your eyes widened. “It can change colors?!” 

Shouto nodded.

“Can it be pink?” you asked intently. 

“Light pink or hot pink?”

“Light.”

He swiftly obliged and with a hit of a touchscreen button, the interior lighting changed from blue to pastel pink. 

“Green!”

It turned green.

“Orange!”

Cue the orange. 

“Purple?” 

Purple. 

Once you were thoroughly satisfied with Shouto showing you the whole color selection (you were almost embarrassed to admit it kept you entertained for a good ten minutes), you settled on a bright turquoise that reminded you of the color of his left eye. 

“Ooh, this color! My favorite,” you said simply, giving him a wide smile. 

A faint blush dusted his cheeks as he developed a sudden interest in adjusting his rearview mirror. “Hm.”

Shouto drove the rest of the way in a comfortable silence, occasionally asking how your week was outside of work and what type of outfit you wanted to wear so he could have a better idea on where to take you. 

“Did you eat?” he suddenly asked when he hit the next stoplight, one hand holding the wheel and the other resting comfortably on the gear shift. 

His hands looked nice and slender and soft to the touch. Pretty hands, you thought but shook yourself out of it because you could go down a rabbit hole of examining his hands and going into detail about them. 

You remembered the single, measly granola bar you had due to your rush getting ready. “I didn’t really eat yet, no. Did you?”

He shook his head and pulled into a food plaza with lots of stores to choose from. The two of you agreed on a noodle restaurant that apparently had some of the best cold soba (once you learned it was his favorite food, you wanted to be able to have some with him and today was the perfect opportunity to do just that) and promptly headed to the location. 

In the shop, a waiter sat the two of you down at a dimly lit booth with the perfect amount of ambience that if someone were to casually look over, they might even mistake this outing as a date. 

You grinned at the thought. 

“Excited for the soba?” asked Shouto, examining the smile on your face thoughtfully. 

That’s not why you were smiling, but it was close enough. “Mhm. And the udon. You can never go wrong with noodles!” 

Yes, you got both udon and soba. But in your defense, where else would the fun in life be if not in sugary sweets and carbs? 

As the two of you waited for your main dishes, you ate some fish cakes and edamame while talking about the ways in which capitalism could be dismantled. Rather sexy of him, if you did say so yourself. 

Before you knew it, you were done with your meal and headed back into his car to go fancy-people shopping. On the remainder of the ride, you asked yourself what color you should pick that would match well with both you and Shouto. After all, nothing said a cute couple who totally liked each other going on a totally real date to a gala like color-coordinated outfits, right?

He parked in front of a street of buildings with a dark glass reaching from ceiling to floor with security guards at the door. Just standing near it made you feel fancy. 

“This is a place my sister told me she liked,” he said, leading you to the store front with his hand on the small of your back to guide you. “I hope you’ll find something to your liking.”

You tried your best not to pay too much attention to the warmth you felt both on your back and your stomach from the fuzzy feelings that spread. 

“Hello, welcome!” the both of you were greeted as you walked through the doors. The interior of the store was lined with designer dresses, some long, some short, and all incredibly stunning. There were only a few other patrons in the store, but all of them looked so elegant as they tried on their dresses. “It’s so lovely to see you again Mr. Todoroki.”

Shouto nodded subtly. “Hello. This is Y/N, my date to the gala who’ll need your assistance today.”

“Hi!” you chimed in at his cue. “Nice to meet you.” 

The worker smiled and made her way over to you. “And you as well. I’m Masuda and I’ll do my best to make sure you leave the store satisfied with your purchase! Did you have a particular style or perhaps color in mind?”

“Umm,” you said sheepishly, looking around the wide variety of clothings and unsure where to start. “I’m not too sure. It’s my first time going to one of these things so maybe something comfortable, but also still...fancy?” You scratched the back of your neck. “Does that even exist?”

“Of course— Just have to find something that feels comfortable to you.” She told you to hold on one moment as she disappear into the rows of fabric. 

As Masuda collected some starter dresses for you to try on, a customer walked by with bags of clothes in her hands, her gaze lingering on Shouto, though neither of you paid her much mind. 

“In this setting, you look almost fit to be a sugar daddy,” you said jokingly, looking around in awe at the sophisticated yet lavish dresses. “You take all your sugar babies here?”

“Only the ones I really like,” he teased back. His voice was deadpan but there was the telltale hints of a smirk on his face to let you know he was only messing with you.

The door chimed to signal that a customer left and by then Masuda had returned with bundles of fabric draped on her arm. She led you away in a hurry and you hesitantly looked back at Shouto who followed in a safe distance. Seeing your moment of panic, he gave you an encouraging smile that somehow was enough to ease a significant fraction of your nerves. This may be new and confusing territory, but at least he was here to help you through it. 

Masuda set a dressing room up for you—it was one of those rooms in the middle of the store with curtains that reached the ceiling and mirrors all around—and placed a bunch of outfits she thought would suit your taste. It reminded you of when a bride would go wedding dress shopping with their family. When you had enough outfits for the first round, she told Shouto to sit down on a leather seat in front of your dressing room while he waited for you to try the different dresses on. 

In a way, it felt oddly intimate: Shouto sitting just a few feet in front of you as you undressed, only separated by the veil of a curtain. Would he offer to help button the back of your dress up, fingers brushing against your bare skin? The thought made you feel almost hot inside as you changed out of your street clothes and into the first dress. 

Unfortunately for you, this dress had no such difficult buttons to reach. 

“How’s it look?” you asked shyly as you emerged from the dressing room. 

The dress was pretty and didn’t feel uncomfortable to walk in, but there wasn’t any sort of attachment you felt towards it. In other words, it was simply...meh. 

Shouto looked up from his phone to take in the sight of you. He smiled. “You look amazing as always.” 

“You think so?” You spun around and curtseyed jokingly and he chuckled. “I don’t think it’s bad, but I’m not sure if it’s the right one.” 

“We’ll be here until you find the right one you want, then. Take your time, Y/N.” 

His voice was normally on the deeper side, but it sounded even more sensual and gravelly at this very moment. You felt goosebumps on your arms and it wasn’t just because of the sleeveless dress you currently had on. 

“T-Thanks, Shouto,” you murmured, turning around and walking back into the changing room to hide the look on your face. You didn’t even know what kind of look you had on your face, but you knew it was one that might give too much away. 

It wasn’t fair that he had to be so sweet and caring and thoughtful and handsome and rich… Most guys you met barely fit into one of those criteria, let alone all five. (Sure, the last two weren’t necessary in your opinion, but you couldn’t deny they were a nice bonus.) It was too bad you had no clue how he felt about you. 

There were moments where he felt flirty and teasing, like maybe he viewed you in a more-than-friends way. But other times he was so polite and proper and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was just being nice because that’s simply the sort of person he was to everyone. 

While you were trying to sort through all your thoughts, you completely forgot to change into a new dress the whole time you were in here. 

You saw a shadow at the floor of the curtain before a voice said, “Y/N? Are you okay in there?” 

Jumping at the sound, you scurried to put the next dress on, a blue one with almost translucent fabric and a delicate neckline. Judging from the proximity of Shouto’s voice and the shadow of his shoes, he was right next to you as you changed. 

“I’m okay!” you managed, hoping you didn’t sound as wobbly as you felt. You held the dress closed at the back, fumbling with the fastens. “I just, ah, needed help buttoning this one up.” 

A light ruffle on the curtain then a pause. “Should I...come in and help?” 

Your eyes widened, not expecting him to actually offer to button it up like you fantasized earlier. You fully thought he might called the worker to aide you just so he wouldn’t risk making you uncomfortable. (Not that he would’ve. At all.) 

“I apologize,” he said somewhat tensely after you didn’t respond. “That was indecent of me—”

“No, no!” you said profusely, poking your head out of the curtain while holding the fabric at the front of your dress to your chest. You tilted your chin to meet his gaze with a determined one of your own. “I’d love your help, Shouto.” 

With a dusting of pink coloring his cheeks, he nodded and entered your dressing room. “This dress is a nice color on you.” His voice was loud against the silence. 

Shouto ran his hand down the length of your spine and then up to unfold the column of buttons on your dress that curved inwards at your movement, his knuckles grazing against your skin like lightning striking water. You jolted at the sudden feeling but he didn’t remove his touch when he felt it.

“Sorry.” His voice was low, almost like a whisper. “Was just getting the buttons out.”

“N-No worries!”

His fingers began working on the bottom-most button at your lower back as he applied a steady pressure on the base of your spine to control the motion. Shouto slowly began his way up, fingertips cold to the touch. But you knew that wasn’t the only reason you felt yourself shiver. As he fastened the dainty buttons with immense concentration (much more concentration than was actually needed to fasten buttons, you were sure), you felt the heat of his breath tickling the back of your neck. You almost couldn’t keep yourself from arching your back in a mixture of anticipation and delight at his constant touch. 

When he finished the last button, Shouto let one hand rest on your hip, grasping the fabric between his fingertips to examine its silken texture. Your breath caught in your throat as you stepped back and bumped into his chest, but he was already there to steady you. 

With his arm on your waist and your back leaning against his chest, you made eye contact through the mirror in front of you. You weren’t sure if the pounding you felt was from your heart or his or a combination of both. 

There was something almost erotic about holding each others’ gaze in the mirror after Shouto just helped you dress, the two of you still not letting the other go despite the task being complete. 

“The dress… You look gorgeous,” he said, not taking his eyes off you for one moment. 

You nodded slowly. It did look amazing on you. And it was breathable and soft. (Plus, Shouto liked it, which made you happier than you’d care to admit.) “The only downside would be I need help getting into it.”

“We could get ready together so it’s no issue.” 

“I’d...also need help getting out of it.” 

You held your breath as his eyes darkened, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly in a way that made you curve your back before you remembered you were flush against Shouto and he could feel even the most subtle of movements coming from your body. But by the time you stopped yourself, it was too late. He already felt it and you wanted more.

His voice was hoarse. “I could help you with that too.”

Instead of beginning to unbutton the dress like part of you thought he would, he surprised you by spinning you around to face him, your shoulder blades pressed against the cool glass of the mirror and your palms lingering on the muscles of his warm chest. The contrast of the cold glass and Shouto’s body heat left a shiver down your spine.

“And how do you plan to help take off my dress when you can’t even see the buttons?” you said challengingly, a smirk on your face despite knowing full well your body was showcasing just how affected you were by this situation. By Shouto.

He tilted his head to the side in response to your daring tone, hands swiftly finding their way to your back and unbuttoning the top five buttons. It wasn’t enough to completely expose your breasts, but it was enough to loosen the fabric at the neckline in a way that made you gasp. 

“Seems doable to me,” he commented. 

You tugged him down slightly by the collar of his shirt. “I don’t quite believe you. Maybe you should prove it.” 

A guttural noise sounded from the back of his throat as he cupped your jaw and leaned in closer. You inched forward, eager to meet his lips. But before they could touch, a knock came from the wall next to the curtain, causing the two of you to freeze in your spots, bodies pressed against each other in an intimate flush.

“Hello, Y/N?” said Masuda cheerfully, blissfully ignorant about what was about to happen in a public dressing room in the middle of the store. “How are the dresses coming along? Did you like any?”

“Ah, actually…” you trailed off, exchanging frustrated but amused glances with Shouto. “I think we’ll take this one.”

a/n: so...mirror sex/sex in a dressing room as a bonus chapter? u.u why yes of course. i’m one step ahead; did u even have to ask? LMAO and hm i wonder if y/n’s fEeLiNGs~ are reciprocated skfkfkdg ALSO THEY WERE SO CLOSE TO KISSING BUT DIDN’T I CRY hopefully the wait will be worth it ;3

what to expect in the next part:

GALA TIMEEEE

yes y/n finally gets the fancy candy they so desired

we get to see shouto’s sexy penthouse

shouto says eat the rich >:c

[sgstories123]

Daddy-O

“Daddy-O! Thanks for picking us up.” Charlene threw her bags of shopping into the front seat of the gleaming blue BMW before joining her friend Rachel at the back of the car.

Mr Tan just smiled at her 18 year-old daughter. He is a successful businessman but he has spent so little time on his family that his wife left him a couple of years ago. Since then, he swore to spend more time on his daughter and less time making money. So when his daughter wanted him to fetch her home from a shopping trip, he cancelled his meetings for the day and left to pick her up.

Mr Tan looked at the rear view mirror. He knew Rachel. She was one of Charlene’s shopping buddies and had been to their house several times. She looked a bit like Charlene and can easily be mistaken to be her sister or cousin. Both were about the same height of 1.7metres and spotting a slim and slender frame. They both enjoyed water sports and so both were tanned with perhaps Rachel being slightly darker with slightly larger breasts than Charlene. Their mannerisms were quite similar too. Both were now giggling at some jokes and flicking their long hair back as they threw their heads back in laughter.

“What did you buy, girls?” Mr Tan asked from the front of the car.

“New bikinis,” Charlene replied immediately. “We are having a weekend pool party so we bought new outfits. And, Daddy-O, there was this beautiful designer bag that I just got to have. It costs a bomb but I don’t think you will mind, right?”

“Of course not. Anything for my daughter,” smiled Mr Tan.

“Rachel wanted it too but she spent all her money on the bikinis. She…oh wait.” Charlene stopped talking and looked intently at the message on her handphone.

“Shucks! I forgot that we are supposed to meet our lecturer for the group project discussion today. I am going to be so screwed.” Charlene whined. “Daddy-O, can you drop me off at school?”

“Oh. Shall I accompany you to school then?” Rachel asked.

“No. That is not necessary. I will be done in about an hour or so. Why don’t you head back to my house and wait for me?” Charlene replied without looking up from texting an excuse to her study group.

A few minutes later, Mr Tan dropped Charlene off at her school. “See you later, Rachel!” Charlene shouted before closing the car door and waving a quick good-bye to her father.

Mr Tan drove back to his condominium with Rachel in his car. He had never spent time alone with Rachel before as Charlene was always around. He found her to be quite charming. They shared a couple of jokes and laughed together happily. Looking at her through the rear mirror, he realised that she was quite pretty and attractive.

Once they reached his home, he opened the door to his condominium unit and invited Rachel in. “You have been here several times. Make yourself at home.” He left the shopping bags on the sofa. “Looks like you girls have been busy cleaning up the shops,” he smiled. “There are drinks in the fridge. Help yourself.”

Rachel went into the kitchen while Mr Tan sat down in on the sofa and switched on the television. He was feeling a little tired. “Do you want me to get you something, Uncle?” Rachel called from the kitchen.

“Oh, thanks! Can you get me a beer?” Mr Tan called out, surfing for a good Netflix movie.

He heard a Rachel coming out of the kitchen with two cans of beer in her hand. She set a can on the table and opened the other. The beer foamed out of the can, leaving a trail on the side of the can. Rachel instinctively licked the side of the can, stretching her pink tongue over the can. She pursed her lips and sipped off the excess beer. Mr Tan found that extremely erotic and his cock got hard, making an uncomfortable dent in his pants.

“Oops. Sorry about that. Here’s your beer, Uncle.” Rachel handed the can to Mr Tan. He took a sip, knowing that he just drank Rachel’s saliva mixed with the beer.

Rachel opened her own can of beer and again, the beer foamed out of the can. This time, it dripped onto her t-shirt, making a tiny dark patch on her breasts. Rachel licked the can again and this time, Mr Tan looked more intently at her tongue, imagining how it would feel if it was on his hard, warm cock instead of the cold, metallic can.

“Gosh. I am so careless. I need to wash this.” Rachel sighed. She took off her t-shirt, revealing a white bra covering a pair of perfect, round breasts. She walked into the kitchen to wash her t-shirt and returned to Mr Tan, still in her bra.

Mr Tan tried to appear nonchalant and not look at Rachel. “I didn’t know you drink beer. I thought young girls will go for Coke or something like that.”

“Nah. I drink beer once in a while. It is relaxing.” Rachel looked at Mr Tan. “Don’t worry. Charlene is not a beer person. She is a good girl.” Rachel laughed and reassured Mr Tan.

“No, you misunderstood me. I am not saying that drinking beer is bad. Just surprised. That’s all.” Mr Tan blushed in embarrassment.

“Are you blushing? Gosh, that’s so cute.” Rachel giggles. That made Mr Tan blushed even more. Was it the beer?

“Here, let me show you what we bought today.” Rachel reached over Mr Tan to grab a shopping bag. Mr Tan could feel Rachel’s breast resting on his chest. His cock was harder than ever and he hoped Rachel will not notice.

Rachel pulled out a red bikini. “Nice? Let me wear it for you.” She stood up and removed her bra, exposing her bare breasts. Mr Tan caught a quick glimpse of small, pinkish nipples before they disappeared behind the red bikini. Rachel pulled off her pants, revealing matching white panties. These were pulled off and for a short while, Mr Tan caught sight of a small triangle of pubic hair and a faintly visible slit before they were covered up by the red bikini again.

“Nice?” Rachel asked again? Mr Tan looked at the 18-year old girl, dressed in a red bikini that showed off her cleavage well. Rachel’s tanned, athletic and slender legs were made even sexier in the little red thong that Mr Tan knew barely covered her privates.

“Yes. Very sexy. I am sure all the boys would be attracted by you.” Myself included. Mr Tan thought to himself. Trying to shift his thoughts elsewhere, he asked “What is this bag that Charlene liked so much?”

“Oh. It is the latest model. Very pretty. Here, let me show you.” Rachel rummaged through the shopping bags before taking out a small, squarish blue bag out of a box.

Rachel caressed the bag lovingly, her eyes not leaving it for even a second. “I wished my dad was as generous as you, Uncle. I would have loved to have this bag too. Imagine if Charlene and I both went shopping with this bag.” Rachel sighed.

Rachel put away the bag in its protective case carefully before returning to her seat next to Mr Tan. She continued sipping her beer and watching the television, seemingly lost in thought.

She turned around and looked at Mr Tan. “Uncle, if I am your daughter, will you treat me like Charlene and buy me whatever I want?”

“Of course! Why not?” Mr Tan replied. “You are so pretty. Any daddy will want to spoil you with gifts.”

“Then, can you be my daddy and buy me gifts?”

“What do you mean? Adopt you?” Mr Tan was confused.

“Ha ha!” Rachel laughed. “That’s funny. I mean be my sugar daddy. Let me show you what I can do.”

Without waiting for his response, Rachel leaned forwards and unbuckled Mr Tan’s belt. Her fingers brushed on his hard cock. She turned up to look at Mr Tan with surprise. “Gosh! Are you already hard?”

She unzipped his pants, revealing Mr Tan’s hard cock straining against his underwear. She pulled down the underwear, releasing his cock. Finally, Mr Tan’s cock was free from the confines of his underwear.

“You have a nice, thick cock, Daddy.” Rachel was going with the flow now. “Can I please suck it, Daddy?”

Mr Tan did not know how to react. Here was a sexy young girl in a red bikini offering him a blowjob but this young girl was also his daughter’s friend.

“Pretty, please, Daddy? I promise to be good.” Rachel whined in the most innocent and seductive voice. Mr Tan heard himself say “Yes, be a good girl and suck on my cock.” Did he say that? He seemed to be in a daze.

Rachel need no further encouragement. She spit on the head of the cock and using her tongue, she smeared the saliva all over the cock, lubricating it. Slowly, she engulfed the head of the cock, pressing her lips tightly on the tip and drawing a sigh of pleasure from Mr Tan. Her left hand stroked the shaft slowly, drawing seductively lines along the length of the cock. Her right hand cupped his balls, squeezing them gently. Occasionally, she will gently scratch the base of his cock, just behind the balls with her fingers, making Mr Tan gasped in pleasure.

Slowly, she drew in more of his cock, all the while sucking and maintaining pressure on his cock. Finally, she had swallowed his whole cock in her mouth, with the tip of his cock touching the back of her mouth. She continued sucking with her left hand now alternating between squeezing the base of his cock and jerking it.

Mr Tan was moaning in pleasure from the blowjob. Rachel was very good at this. He held on to her head, guiding her to enhance his pleasure. Once Rachel had his whole cock in her mouth, he knew he could not hold back any further. He felt his balls tighten and shot his load into her mouth. Instead of pulling away, Rachel continued to suck and squeeze every drop of his cum. When she was done, she pulled away and smiled seductively at Mr Tan. She opened her mouth to show him his cum in her mouth, before swallowing everything in one gulp.

Rachel got up and sat on Mr Tan’s lap. She leaned over and whispered seductively into Mr Tan’s ear. “Thank you, Daddy.”

Mr Tan’s cock stiffened again, pushing against Rachel’s ass. Rachel turned and smiled when she saw the hard cock.

“Rachel is a bad girl. Rachel did not do a good job. Please punish Rachel, Daddy. Stick your hard cock into Rachel. Make Rachel cry out in pain, Daddy.” Rachel cried.

She grabbed Mr Tan’s cock with one hand, stroking it to its full hardness. With the other hand, she pulled apart her red thongs, exposing her love hole. With one practiced movement, she guided Mr Tan’s cock into her cunt.

Mr Tan groaned in pleasure as his cock pushed swiftly into the tight, young vagina. As Rachel started to ride on Mr Tan’s cock, she removed her bikini top, offering her bare breasts to Mr Tan. He did not resist the offer, squeezing both breasts with his hands, licking and sucking each pink nipple in turn.

Rachel was also moaning in pleasure. Mr Tan had a thick cock so it was stretching and filling her cunt, sending orgasmic pleasure through her. She grind herself on his cock, moving forwards and upwards, increasing her pace as her pleasure intensified.

“Do you want to be my sugar daddy? Can you buy me whatever I want?” Rachel grunted softly into Mr Tan’s ear as she rode him. “Yes, be my daughter. I will buy you whatever you want.” Mr Tan panted, his shirt now drenched in his sweat.

Rachel hugged Mr Tan tightly. “Thank you, Daddy. I love you.” She wrapped her legs around Mr Tan, positioning herself at an angle so that Mr Tan’s cock could enter her even more deeply. She increased her pace, squeezing Mr Tan’s cock with her cunt as tightly as she could. Mr Tan could not hold back any more. With a grunt, he shot his second load into Rachel, hugging her as tightly as he could as his little soldiers charged into the tight chamber.

They held each other for a while until Mr Tan’s cock became soft and plopped out of Rachel’s cunt. Rachel gave Mr Tan a kiss on the lips. “Thank you, Daddy.” She got up and sperm trickled down her legs. “I need to take a bath.”

“Follow me.” Mr Tan led Rachel into the common toilet. “Let’s take a bath together,” he suggested.

As Mr Tan showered Rachel, his hands roamed all over her body, caressing her smooth young skin and enjoying the touch of the contours of her tight, muscular body. His cock became hard again.

“Daddy, are you hard again?” Rachel asked innocently.

Mr Tan’s lust overcame him. He needed to fuck this girl again. “Come with me.” He pulled Rachel out of the toilet and into Charlene’s room. He took a towel and dried both of them hurriedly. Seeing one of Charlene’s large t-shirt on a chair, he took it and put it on Rachel. “Don’t catch a cold. Now lie face down on Charlene’s bed with your ass facing me.”

Rachel thought that perhaps Mr Tan was into SM. Was he going to spank her bottom?

“Is Rachel a bad girl? Don’t spank me, Daddy.” Rachel role-played as well as she could.

“You are now Charlene, not Rachel.” Mr Tan replied.

Rachel got it immediately. Mr Tan is living out an incest fantasy. She mimicked Charlene’s mannerism. “Daddy-O. I am such a naughty girl.”

Mr Tan’s cock hardened immediately when he heard the term “Daddy-O” used by Charlene. He hugged Rachel from behind, sniffing at Charlene’s scent from her t-shirt.

“Daddy-O. Fuck me! I want you to fuck me!” Rachel cried.

Mr Tan grabbed his cock with one hand and with the other parted Rachel’s cunt. Overcome with lust, he did not bother with foreplay but forced his cock into the tight hole in one swift stroke. He pumped Rachel furiously from behind, leaning forward to squeeze her breasts and taking in deep breaths of Charlene’s scent, all the while imagining that he was fucking his own daughter.

Rachel was swept up by Mr Tan’s animal lust and lost herself in her pleasure. She remembered her role though and occasionally moaned “Fuck me, Daddy-O!” for Mr Tan’s pleasure.

Mr Tan increased his pace and hugged Rachel even more tightly. Minutes later, he came a third time into Rachel. He turned Rachel’s head upwards for a kiss. “Don’t tell anyone and I will buy you whatever you want. When we are alone, your name is Charlene.” 

[mymoonagedaydream]

Not sure what kind of AUs you write, but could you possibly do a Mob!Bucky x Soft!reader? And by soft!reader I mean she’s generally very kind, gentle, and cutesy, the “wouldn’t hurt a fly” type, except when defending those she cares for, then it’s like someone flipped a switch and she’s hell on wheels lol

All Bark and No Bite

Summary: When you fell on hard times, comfort came from the very last place you expected

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Soft!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Language, intimidating behaviour

Author’s Note: I really loved this request :) thanks so much anon

---

Approaching the front door of your apartment, you heard low talking coming from inside. Your dad hadn’t mentioned anything about having guests over, but you were making his favourite spaghetti for dinner, so maybe he’d just invited a friend over to try it.

He loved showing you off to people, and you loved the proud smile he wore whenever he did.

You turned the key and pushed open the door, seeing your father in the front room, sitting beside a youngish man you didn’t recognise. Clean shaven with neatly slicked back hair and a pretty expensive-looking suit, he was absolutely nothing like the friends who were usually brought home for dinner.

As soon as your father saw you he jumped up from the couch, looking a little antsy. ‘Hi sweetie. This is Bucky, a friend from work.’ He walked over to you and gave you a kiss on the cheek, before turning round to look back at his friend. ‘This is my daughter, y/n.’

You gave Bucky a warm smile. ‘Nice to meet you.’

‘You too darlin.’ He had a thick, deep Brooklyn accent that made your stomach tingle.

‘Are you staying for dinner? I’m making spaghetti.’

Bucky sent a nervous look towards your father, who seemed to be attempting a very subtle head shake, hoping you wouldn’t notice. There was definitely something weird going on, you could’ve cut the tension in the room with a knife.

‘That’s alright.’ Bucky eventually replied. ‘I should get going soon.’

There was a slightly uncomfortable silence as you took your coat off and hung it by the front door. Only when you walked through to the kitchen did you hear the deep mumbling start again, far too quietly for you to make out any of the words.

You heard the front door open and close, then you heard your dad quickly shuffle into his bedroom.

---

An hour after the guest had left, dinner was ready, but your father was still locked away. You walked to his bedroom and timidly knocked on the door, inching it open to see him sitting on the edge of his bed, head in his hands.

‘Dad? Is everything alright?’

He looked up, you could immediately tell he’d been crying. He sighed and patted the bed, inviting you to sit by him.

‘I sorry, sweetheart.’ He reached out for your hand and squeezed it. ‘You know we’ve been struggling a bit lately and, well, I owe some money to some bad people.’

‘That man, who was here earlier?’

‘He’s one of them, but he was here to try and help me out. If they found out he could get into a lot of trouble.’

His grip on your hand was tightening, almost to the point of being painful, but if that’s what he needed to do to keep him grounded then you were happy to let him.

‘How bad is it?’

He turned to look at you, tears welling in his eyes. ‘We could lose everything.’

That hit you like a punch in the gut. He looked absolutely devastated. You hadn’t seen him like this for years, not since you lost your mother.

You moved your arms to circle his shoulders, giving him a tight hug.

‘It’s okay dad. We’ll figure it out.’

---

The next day, while your father was out at work, you were woken by aggressive banging on your apartment door. You considered ignoring it, but they didn’t let up, almost thudding the door off of its hinges.

Opening it cautiously, you saw two burly, intimidating guys staring down at you, and Bucky stood slightly behind them looking a little sheepish.

‘Hey there sweet thing.’ The one at the front said, his alcoholic breath washing over your face. ‘Is your daddy home?’

‘No, he’s not.’ Bucky’s face dropped slightly, obviously shocked by your firm tone.

‘Can you tell me where he is sugar?’

‘No.’

Bad breath gave a low, sinister chuckle before stepping forward and lowering his face to level with yours. ‘I really think you should. We don’t want to have to do this the hard way.’

You were probably being stupid and reckless, but no way were you going to be intimidated into compromising your dad’s safety. You leaned in even closer to your unwelcome guest, leaving barely an inch between your forehead and his.

‘If you so much as touch me, I’ll scream this fucking building to the ground.’

It took a second, but he eventually backed up. ‘I like you, kid. I’ll be seeing you. Soon.’

He turned and walked away, the other man you didn’t recognise following him closely. Bucky hesitated for a second, staring at you while his mouth curled into an impressed smile. He grabbed a cigarette from behind his ear and put it between his lips, winking at you before finally following his colleagues down the hallway.

After firmly pushing the door closed and sliding the chain across, you squeezed your eyes shut and let out a few shaky breaths, thankful that you’d come out of that interaction unscathed.

You never told your father what had happened. He had enough to worry about.

---

A few days later, you were working a double shift at the diner, trying to earn as much money as you could to help your dad out. You’d been on your feet for thirteen hours straight but, thankfully, it was pretty late, so the place was almost completely dead.

You were filling up the coffee machine with beans when you heard the bell above the door go. Turning your head, you saw Bucky saunter in, eyes glued to the newspaper in his hands.

He took a seat at the counter. You wiped your hands on your apron and went to stand opposite him.

‘Hi there.’ He seemed to recognise your voice, his head snapped up as soon as you spoke.

‘Hey.’ A wide smile spread across his face. ‘I’ve never seen you in here before.’

‘I don’t usually do the graveyard shift. Just, y’know, trying to earn some extra money.’

His smile dropped slightly after hearing the exhaustion in your voice.

You hadn’t intended to make him feel guilty. If anything, you owed him your gratitude, cause knowing that there was someone else helping your father out made you feel so much better about this shitty situation.

‘Coffee?’ You chirped, trying to lighten the mood a little.

‘Great, thanks.’ You grabbed him a mug and started pouring. ‘I, uh- I’m really sorry about the other day. Doorstep intimidation was really unwarranted, I tried to convince them out of it.’

‘It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.’

He smirked slightly. ‘You handled it well enough. I was impressed.’

‘Oh I’m definitely all bark and no bite.’ You passed him his coffee and gave him a warm smile. ‘But keep that to yourself.’

Pottering around behind the counter for a while, you felt his gaze on you whenever you passed by him. It was actually quite nice, having this devilishly handsome man show some interest, so you found yourself coming up with as many excuses as possible to walk in front of him.

Ten-or-so minutes after he’d arrived, you had to duck into the kitchen briefly, and when you came out you found yourself pretty disappointed to see that he’d left.

You trudged over to his empty coffee mug, picking it up and double-taking when you saw that it’d been sitting on top of a fifty dollar note.

He must’ve left it by accident, surely? Fifty dollars is a ridiculous tip for a cup of coffee.

You slid it into your apron, figuring you’d give it back next time you saw him. You could even use it as an excuse to get your dad to invite him back to the house, but you hoped you wouldn’t have to resort to that- you hoped that maybe he’d come around by choice.

---

It’d been a week since you’d seen Bucky at the diner, the fifty dollar note was still sitting in your bedside dresser. Your father had been going downhill, getting worse everyday, and the temptation to give the money to him was getting more and more difficult to resist.

Coming back from the grocery store, you climbed the stairs of your apartment building and turned into your hallway, the sight that greeted you making you stop dead.

Bucky was sitting outside your apartment, leaning against the door, looking like he’d just been in a horrific car crash. As soon as he saw you he struggled up onto his feet, the full extent of his injuries becoming apparent as you got closer.

‘I’m really sorry y/n, I didn’t know where else to go.’

‘God Bucky, what happened to you?’

‘They found out what I’ve been doing.’

Your eyes widened in shock. ‘They did all this just because you helped my dad out?’

‘Not exactly.’ He winced as he limped out of the way of your door. ‘I haven’t been playing ball with them for years, I’m tangled up in more shit than I can keep track of.’

It was definitely a stupid idea to let a guy being chased by the mob into your home, you knew that, but you were really struggling not to feel sorry for him. He looked completely broken.

‘My dad’s gonna be out all day.’ His dejected nod at that was the final straw, you knew you had to help him. ‘But I’ll clean you up.’

You gave him a reassuring smile as you let him through the door. He steadily lowered himself onto the couch while you fetched a bowl of warm water and a clean cloth. You didn’t really know what you were doing, but you figured at the very least you could give him a bit of comfort and wipe all the dried blood off his face.

You took your makeshift first aid kit into the front room and sat next to him.

‘Look at me.’ He shifted his face towards you. You wrung out the cloth and gently pressed it to a deep gash above his eyebrow, making him wince. ‘I’m really sorry this happened, you didn’t deserve it.’

He chuckled lightly. ‘You gotta teach me how to do that.’

‘Do what?’

‘Flick between the nicest and the scariest person I’ve ever met.’

You gave him a faintly amused smile. ‘We lost my mom when I was a kid, my dad needed all the kindness he could get.’ Bucky looked a little shocked at your honesty. ‘But he’s also stupid as hell, so he needs defending pretty often.’

‘He’s lucky to have you.’

Your eyes flicked to meet his, sensing a hint of sadness behind his words. ‘Do you have anyone?’

‘If I did, I probably wouldn’t have ended up beat to shit and on the run.’

You sighed and nodded, dropping the cloth back into the bowl and scanning your eyes over his face again. ‘That’s about the best I can do. You’ve stopped bleeding, but you won’t be winning any beauty contests for a while.’

He chuckled and ran his hand over his hair, taking a deep breath.

You were really conflicted about what to do next. Having him here could put both you and your father at risk, but were you really just going to throw him back out on the street? Anything could happen to him out there, you’d never forgive yourself if he would up in an even worse state.

‘Bucky, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need.’

‘Thanks.’ You could almost see a wave of relief passing over him. ‘I don’t think my place is safe at the moment.’

You reached out for his hand and squeezed it tight, a calm silence falling as your eyes locked together. He slowly moved his free hand up to brush a strand of hair away from your eyes, then letting it come to rest at your jawline, gently cupping the side of your face.

You closed your eyes and settled further into his hand, almost feeling yourself melting under his soft touch. Between working and looking after your father, you’d never really had the chance to get close to anyone like this, so these sensations were pretty new to you.

You felt his body shift slightly, and a second later felt his lips press against yours. It was unexpected, shocking you a little at first, but it didn’t take long before you relaxed completely and returned the kiss. It felt like there was electricity flowing through your body, making all your hairs stand up and your stomach do flips.

Getting a little carried away, you lifted your hands up to hold his face to, completely forgetting his extensive bruising. He winced slightly and pulled away.

‘Oh god, sorry I forgot.’

‘S’alright.’ He flashed you a wide smile. ‘I knew you had some bite in you.’

---

[andreafmn]

Running In Circles - Chapter 3

Word Count: 1,854

Characters: Female Reader Rossi Character, Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, Jennifer “JJ”Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia

Story Description: (Y/N) Rossi is following in her father’s footsteps by joining the BAU team as a profiler. The girl genius knew almost everything but she could have never predicted falling for Aaron Hotchner, her boss and her father’s friend. in their world mutual feelings are not enough to push them together. Will all the adversities and obstacles they face pull them together or push them apart forever?

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Criminal Minds, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and CBS Network. The only thing I own is Arden Rossi, any upcoming characters, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ story line.

Chapter: 3/?

A/N: This is a short one. Just fully domestic fluff and it makes me very happy, but letting ya’ll know this happiness will be kinda short lived. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

<- Previous | Next->

Chapter 3

“Okay, buddy, let’s see.” I looked at the instructions in my hands from the fort kit I had purchased. It seemed simple enough and something Jack would enjoy inmmensly. “Let’s do this.”

“Yeah!” Jack exclaimed. Hotch laughed from the kitchen, insisting he had to at least cook some dinner. In the oven were the batch of brownies I had put in 10 minutes ago. It took about 30 minutes to finish the fort and the look on Jack’s face was priceless. Then he spent 10 minutes perusing my movie collection until he finally landed on Toy Story, once again. 

“Well, dinner’s ready,” Hotch announced, bringing a tray with three plates of spaghetti to the fort.

“Daddy, daddy! Look at the fort!” Jack jumped up and down. It was a simple square base, big enough for three people and a triangle top. We covered it with thin sheets and hung wire twinkle lights on the top. Jack had run to my linen closet and gotten a thick comforter to lay on the floor, as well as most of the pillow that laid on my couch. He also arranged a couple of his plush toys in there to keep us company, as he put it. 

“I see it, buddy. It looks great!” Hotch smiled brightly. “Now, what do we say?”

“Thank you, (Y/N)!”

“No problem, little man,” I smiled. “How about you invite your dad inside so we can eat some spaghetti?”

“Yes! Come on, dad!”

Hotch sat down next to me and passed a plate to Jack and me, putting a napkin on his son’s collar. The small kid smiled at his dad and dug into his plate without another thought, the sound of the movie filling in the background. 

“You know,” I mused. “It was pretty bold of you to cook spaghetti for an Italian.”

“Right,” he chuckled. “Well, I hope it’s good.”

I smiled and took a bite of the noodles. Hotch stared expectantly to see if he passed the Italian test. I chewed slowly, dragging the process along, until finally giving him a thumbs up. Hotch sighed and smiled before digging into his own plate.

After finishing the pasta, I took the three plates to the kitchen and served three plates of brownie with ice cream for me and the Hotchner duo. When those plates were empty, Jack laid his head on my lap and his feet on his dad’s and watched the movie. An hour and a half later, the blonde boy was softly snoring and peacefully sleeping.

“Looks like the little man ran out of juice,” I said as I ran my hand through his soft hair. “I think we should take him up to the guest room.”

Hotch softly placed his hand under Jack’s arms and carried him up the stairs to the first door on the right, careful not to wake the tired child. I pulled the sheets away and Hotch laid the kid on the bed. I left the room to let Hotch change Jack into his pajamas and went downstairs to clean up and pack away the fort for Jack to take home.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” I jumped at the sound of Hotch’s voice and he laughed. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay, and don’t mention it.” I sat down next to him on the island. “Whatever you need, seriously, I’m here.”

He smiled and engulfed me in a hug; time slowed down. For a moment, just for a moment, it was only us. There was no hurting, no unspoken emotions, nothing. I breathed in his scent and took in the warmth coming from the closeness of his body to mine. He relaxed into me and let himself be human for a change. 

All good things come to an end.

“Well, it’s getting late,” I said breaking the hug and clearing my throat. “Um, there’s towels in the guest bedroom closet and extra blankets just in case it gets too cold during the night.”

“Great, I’ll see you in the morning, then. Good night, (y/n).”

“Good night, Hotch.” I smiled and waited for his figure to disappear in the stairs before opening the doors leading to my backyard. I breathed in deeply and tried to easy my heartbeat.

“What are you doing, (Y/N)?” I whispered to myself.

I spent the night tossing and turning, trying my best to not think that the man I liked was sleeping just a hallway away. Before I knew it, the sun was peeking in through my bedroom window, announcing that I had wasted a whole night of sleep inside my head. 

So, I got up and went downstairs to work on breakfast. Eggs, bacon, pancakes, toast, the works. I put a pot of coffee to brew and took out some toppings for the pancakes. As I was finishing with the bacon, I heard tiny feet running down the staircase.

“Morning, (Y/N)!” Jack exclaimed, hugging my waist since it was as high as he could reach. 

“Hey, little man,” I said ruffling his hair. “Wanna help me set the table?”

He nodded and grabbed the forks I was holding, placing them rapidly next to the three plates that were already on the round table.

“Jack, where’s dad?” I questioned.

“He’s still sleeping.” He shrugged.

“I have an idea, little man. How about we wake him up with some silly string?”

“What’s silly string?” My mouth dropped. I headed to the hallway closet and took out two cans of silly string.

“This, buddy, is silly string,” I presented the can. “You press the button here down and string comes out.”

“Like this?” Jack asked as a string of green plastic was expelled from the can. He shrieked gleefully and his excitement grew as he saw the grin on my face.

“Just like that, bud. Let’s go wake up dad.” 

He nodded excitedly and we walked up the stairs quietly. Once we reached the door, I turned the doorknob slowly and instructed Jack to go jump on the bed to surprise his dad. He smiled at me and when the door was completely open, he ran up to the bed and jumped.

When Hotch’s eyes shot open, Jack and I pressed the cans and shot silly string all over Hotch.

“Good morning, daddy!” Jack screamed as he flung the can around. Definitely a mess I’d have to clean later but very worth it at the moment.

“Morning, Jack!” The older man said as he brought his kid down tickling him slightly. “Is it safe to assume this was your idea, (Y/N)?”

“Yes, sir. It is,” I responded between laughs. “We have a very strict protocol in this household when it comes to wake up calls.” 

“That’s a very effective wake up call.” Hotch smiled.

“Well, now that we’re all up, we can eat some breakfast,” I said. “There’s some chocolate chip pancakes for you, little man.”

“Yes!” He excitedly left the room and ran downstairs.

“And there’s coffee, too.” I smiled and Hotch got up to join us downstairs.

“(Y/N), thank you.” Hotch said as he stood on the doorstep ready to go home. “This is exactly what Jack and I needed, and I have no idea how I’ll ever be able to make it up to you.”

“Hotch, there’s absolutely no need.” I laid a hand on his arm, giving it a squeeze for reassurance. “I meant it when I said I’d always be here for you both. Whatever it is you need.”

Hotch smiled and left with an ‘I’ll see you at work’, and a Jack frantically waving from the backseat.

And that’s how our sleepovers started. Most of the times we had days off Hotch would come over and we’d build a fort with Jack and watch movies or played games. On hot days, we’d play around in the pool. Sometimes with the squad, but more often than not, just the three of us. If ever he needed it, I would take care of Jack so he could have a day to himself. These nights were happening so often, I transformed one of the guest rooms into a room for Jack. Hotch started leaving some of Jack’s clothes and toys. My house started becoming a second home for the Hotchner boys.

Slowly we grew closer and closer as friends, even if I wanted more. His friendship was too important for me to lose what we already had.

Back at work, it was business as usual. The team was none the wiser, but they could see that our relationship had gotten closer. JJ would always give me a smirk when she saw us hugging in his office, Derek would wiggle his eyebrows at me, and Penelope would silently squeal and flail her arms whenever she saw us in proximity.

Today was no different. Reid, Emily, Derek, and I were in the briefing room each stirring their wanted sugars and creams into the coffees I had brought in the morning. Reid quickly examining the box of donuts I had also brought along to pick the best one.

“Come on, baby girl,” Derek chuckled. “What’s going on between you and the boss man?”

“Well, Derek, if you must know,” I played along. The trio closed in as I pretended to look around for any eavesdropping ears. “Absolutely nothing. We’re just friends.”

“Come on, (Y/N),” Emily responded annoyed. “There has to be something. Friends don’t look at each other the way you both do.”

“My dearest Emily, I’m serious. I’ve just tried to be there for him in these very difficult times.” I sipped my coffee. “And I very much enjoy Jack’s company.”

“You know,” Spencer chimed in. “Oxytocin and dopamine, which are often referred to as the love hormones, affect pupil size. The brain gets a surge of these chemicals when you’re sexually or romantically attracted to someone. This boost of hormones causes pupils to dilate. So, really, if we wanted to know if something was happening all we have to do is pay attention to their eyes.”

“Thank you, Spence.” I laughed. “Now I’m gonna have to use sunglasses everywhere.”

“So that means there is something to look out for!” Emily chirped.

“No,” I cleared my throat. “It means that I don’t want to be stared at all the time by profilers, thank you very much.”

“Whatever you say, (Y/N), whatever you say.” Emily laughed.

After that, playful side eyes and nudges were implemented to our daily routine. They’d smirk whenever Hotch praised me and stared whenever he was even remotely close to me. At first it was funny, but it made me extremely nervous to think that Hotch could catch on. Although, it had been a couple of months with this behavior and thankfully, the unit chief had yet to figure it out, as oblivious to our teammates’ behavior as he was to my feelings for him.

Our friendship continued to flourish and strengthen as I pushed my feelings down in an effort to forget about them. It did not do me any good but, if this was the only way to keep him close, I would endure it.

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Tag: @ssamorganhotchner

[dudeandduchess]

Yakuza!Kyōjurō x F!S/O: Sugar and Spice (Mafia!AU, Modern AU, NSFW Series)[Chapter 5]

Summary: Kyōjurō and (Y/n) meet at a party, only to find out that their lives would change forever— since they had been arranged to be married.

Warnings: Making Out, Dry Humping, Extreme Fluff

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4| Chapter 6

***

(Y/n) wasn’t a stranger to fast food establishments at all; especially when she was far away from her family at university, and well away from having to keep up pretenses— on the off chance that an off-the-rails paparazzo would recognize her and hound her for an interview.

She liked to partake in the occasional burger from McDonald’s, and the odd fried chicken from KFC every once in a while. But it was the first time that she’d even been to a fast food restaurant while dressed to the nines.

Hell, she was even wearing statement jewelry that her mother had told Rin to make her wear. And that had her gripping her seatbelt even tighter than before; especially as Kyōjurō pulled up right in front of the busy McDonald’s without a care in the world.

As if he owned the road, which he may as well have— what with the wide berth that people and cars had given him.

(Y/n) couldn’t blame them at all; she would have dived for cover the moment that she had spotted the 4444 digits, as well as the little crown at the corner of Kyōjurō’s license plate. But that was before she had come to be engaged to a Yakuza member— the heir of the family, no less.

“Are you serious? We’re eating here?” She didn’t have any qualm with fast food at all— it was just that they were extremely overdressed. And it was already garnering the attention from a couple of pedestrians, which had her sinking into her seat even further.

But Kyōjurō seemed like he couldn’t give two fucks about what anyone else thought, as he unbuckled his seatbelt and didn’t even bat an eye as he got out of the car; rounding it, all so he could open her door for her.

Gentlemanly, and it wooed (Y/n) a little, but it did barely anything to ease the embarrassment that she got from the stares of all the passersby.

“Why, princess? Too casual for you?” Kyōjurō teased, watching with amusement as his fiancée huffed a little while undoing her seatbelt. And, as a little act of rebellion, she ignored his hand and stepped out of the sedan as gracefully as she can— impressing Kyōjurō even more, as she seamlessly rose up without even parting her legs to move.

“In this case, yes. And in case you haven’t noticed, Kyōjurō, everyone has been staring at us.”

“So? Let them stare; it’s the first time that they’d seen someone as beautiful as you.” The Rengoku answered smoothly, taking (Y/n) off guard and making her cheeks bloom a vibrant red from embarrassment.

And, with a soft chuckle, Kyōjurō quickly took his fiancée’s hand into his own— before tugging her towards the bustling McDonald’s for a quick breakfast.

To Kyōjurō’s surprise— and his utter delight— she managed to finish her pancake and sausage meal; before giving his remaining pancake longing looks across the table.

(Y/n) tried to avoid looking at the fluffy pancake, as it was rude to do so, but her eyes always gravitated towards it; her stomach speaking for her and making her mouth water for the sweet treat. After all, pancakes were one of her most favorite breakfast items— if only for the fact that her father had always taken her to get them before school, before he was the Prime Minister.

The faintest of smiles graced her lips at the fond memories that came flashing in her mind; a reaction that wasn’t lost on Kyōjurō at all, especially since it gave her such a soft and ethereal glow that had him completely transfixed.

His mouth would have fallen open, had he not caught himself in time and kept it closed. And, before he could help it, an equally subtle smile tugged up at the corners of his lips— all while he admired the woman whom sat adjacent from him; the woman who was going to be his wife.

“What’re you smiling about?” The question wasn’t harsh at all, it was merely inquisitive, which had Kyōjurō playfully tilting his head slightly and amping up the wattage on his smile.

However, instead of being teasing, he decided to be upfront with her— hoping to catch her off guard.

Which he did, with his answer.

“You. The way you’re the most beautiful person here without even trying...”

(Y/n)’s lips pursed at those words, but the smile that she tried to hide with that action still crept through the tiny cracks in her façade. It completely enamored the Rengoku even more, as opposed to turning him off from her false placidity.

“You’re too much of a charmer, Kyōjurō,” (Y/n) conceded in a somewhat playful tone, before idly taking her cup of orange juice and taking a sip of it— if only to hide her oncoming blush and flustered smile behind the action.

“Only for you, princess.” And honestly, he really meant it; he’d always been charming, but it was only with her that he truly meant everything he said.

***

A two hour drive later found (Y/n) staring in awe up at the tall trees that bordered a two-lane road up in the mountains. They had turned off from the main road five minutes ago, but she had yet to see where her fiancé was taking her.

If she were to be honest, she would say that she was getting slightly nervous. She couldn’t help the reaction though, as it made sense— all because of Kyōjurō’s job’s nature. She had come to like him to a degree, but she had yet to put her trust in him.

After all, she had to be careful, as she had gone into the arrangement with her eyes wide open. His family was cashing in a favor her father owed, and she could never forget that.

But that didn’t mean that she should hate him for it, as she’d come to realize during their breakfast. He wasn’t all that bad, and he was very easy on the eyes— which was an extremely huge plus.

“I hate to ask this so late, but where exactly are we going?” (Y/n) finally piped up, turning away from the seemingly neverending foliage and looking over at Kyōjurō— whom had his full attention on the road.

He didn’t even turn towards her when he answered, “Somewhere special, and somewhere... private.”

The way that the last word rolled off his tongue was packed with so much meaning, that she couldn’t help but feel herself get a little hot under the collar at his double entendre. Still, she pushed for complete placidity, and even opted to cross her legs at the ankles— if only to squeeze her thighs together.

“I’m sure you’re gonna like it there, sweetheart. Best of all, you won’t have to deal with your mother for a while,” Kyōjurō joked with a grin, still not looking at her, but turning to his left before veering the car left.

A sharp gasp escaped from (Y/n)’s lips at the reckless move, only to be truly left speechless when she got an eyeful of the view in front of her. From a break in the foliage, she saw that they were on a cliff face, with a traditional Japanese mansion down below— complete with an expansive garden— and partnered with such a breathtaking view of Saitama’s lush mountains serving as the backdrop.

Not even the sound of Kyōjurō pulling up the handbrake ruined the tranquility of the moment.

She had been to so many beautiful places in the world, but something about the place just seemed so... tranquil. Like it had touched not jusy her heart, but also her soul.

From his seat, Kyōjurō watched in fascination as his fiancée’s expression became even lovelier as the seconds ticked by. She took in the view so hungrily, that he wasn’t prepared for the sheer admiration in her eyes when she turned to finally look at him.

“Is this yours?” She asked softly, her voice barely above breaking a whisper.

And, with a subtle shake of his head, he gave in to his instincts and leaned in closer to bridge the gap between them— cupping her cheeks in his hands and bringing her face in so he could brush his lips against hers. “It’ll be yours too. Soon, Mrs. Rengoku.”

It was only meant to be a quick peck, but Kyōjurō couldn’t help himself and deepened it into a proper kiss; one that had (Y/n) melting right into his touch. She pliantly parted her lips for his tongue, moaning softly against his mouth when he moved to play with hers.

But things didn’t stop there for the couple, as (Y/n) released more of her control and allowed her lover to pull her over the console and right onto his lap. Thankfully, her dress was flared enough to have not ripped when she instinctively straddled him.

It was a tight fit, with her pressed flush against him— as the steering wheel was digging into her back— but she paid no mind to it as she traded kiss for kiss with her fiancé. All the while, the Rengoku’s hands anchored themselves to either side of her waist, kneading her sides before the right one moved down to cup her ass and squeeze it through her dress.

“Fuck, baby, I want nothing more than to fuck you right here,” Kyōjurō hissed, as he hungrily devoured his lover’s lips with open mouthed kisses. He had even taken to nipping at her lips every once in a while to ease the frustration he felt, especially with her pussy pressed flush against the steadily rising bulge between his thighs.

But he couldn’t break his own word— that his cock was a wifey privilege. Because not only would that be embarrassing and needy as hell for him, it would be going back on his word. And if there’s anything that Kyōjurō hated, it was going back on someone’s word— especially his own.

In response to that, (Y/n) began to grind her pussy up against Kyōjurō’s erection; wrapping her arms even tighter around his shoulders, while her fingers buried themselves in his hair. “Do it. Fuck me right here.”

Part of her was surprised at her shameless words, but she couldn’t very well take them back anymore so she decided to remedy her gaffe by being the one to dive in for another open mouthed kiss— if only to distract her lover from what she had just admitted to wanting, in a roundabout way.

Kyōjurō’s cock was throbbing with need at that statement, but he still forced himself to pull away before things could press on to the point where even he would lose sight of his own control. It was the hardest thing he’d had to do in a while, and it was obvious by (Y/n)’s expression that she did not appreciate being rejected once more— which he tried to smooth over with one last kiss to her luscious lips.

“Wifey priveleges, princess. Not until you’re officially mine.”

[thran-duils]

I Crave Annihilation (P.2)

Title: I Crave Annihilation (Part Two) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Mafia!Dark Tony Stark. Tony works for the reader’s very influential politician father moving guns and drugs. She starts flirting with him and he is returning the vibes. She moves into her own place out of her parent’s house and texts him to come save her from a house party. Smut ensues. Words: 3,450 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, HUGE age difference, angst, violence, infidelity, possessive behavior

Part One || Part Three || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

“Who does this pussy belong to, baby?”

“You, sir!” you keened, your knuckles white grasping your blankets.

Tony slowed before laying a hard smack across your ass, drawing a cry from you. He kneaded at your ass roughly, groaning. You could feel him pulling your cheeks apart as he thrusted, a low hum leaving his mouth. He was definitely relishing in watching his cock moving in and out. He laid another hard smack and you whined for him.

“Such a good girl,” he husked, resuming his brutal pace.

<><><>

Tony left the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He smirked to himself, knowing he had worn Y/N out; she was going to be sore tomorrow. Just like how he liked to leave her so she remembered who she belonged to. Descending the stairs to the ground floor, he stopped seeing two girls sitting on the couch, looking pretty intoxicated, still holding drinks in their hands, Taco Bell wrappers spread out along the coffee table. They had not heard the girls come home; not a surprise considering how loud him and Y/N had been. He surmised they had been there for a while with the food and had been listening to him completely wreck Y/N upstairs.

He threw them a charming smirk and asked, “Roommates?”

“Yeah…” one said slowly, trying to hide the smile on her face. She was looking him over, taking in his tailored pants and pressed dress shirt.

“I wasn’t here. Right?” Tony responded, cocking his head in expectance. They both nodded and Tony winked, and he saw them both turn bashful in a second before he turned, opening the door and walking out.

As soon as he got outside, he pulled his phone out and texted Y/N.

Your roommates are downstairs. You might want to talk to them about keeping their lips sealed.

<><><>

You read the text and your eyes widened. You got dressed quickly and rushed out of your room but stopped at the top of the stairs. What were you going to say? You had been trying to keep this a secret for months.

Moving controlled down the stairs, you came to the bottom and turned to face the couch. They were both looking at you, bursting at the seams. Suddenly, they burst into laughter – the both of them – holding onto each other.

“Y/N! Do you have a sugar daddy?” Mara guffawed. She saw the look on your face, and she leaned forward, waving her hands in surrender. “No, no! I’m not judging! I’m just curious. He’s hot!”

“Oh my god, no wonder you don’t take guys home,” Lisa said. “Holy shit. He could beat the shit out of them if he ever caught you in bed with someone else.”

“How long were you guys here?” you asked uncertainly, worried about how much of it they had actually heard.

“Um… from the first ‘are you a dirty girl?’ I think?” Mara asked, snorting again. “And then every subsequent smack after that. How is your ass?”

“Oh, shut up,” you said as the two of them erupted into giggles again. “You can’t say anything!”

Lisa crowed, “Oh, it’s a secret! Oh okay.”

“I’m fucking serious,” you snapped, much to their amusement. “Now did you leave me any food or what?”

Mara laughed pointing at the bag, “Yeah. And I’m sure you’re absolutely famished.”

<><><>

Where are you?

You looked down at your phone, confusion coming on. You had told Tony what you were doing and where you were at when he had asked about an hour ago.

At the bar I told you.

I know, but where inside.

Are you here?

You know how much I don’t like people answering my questions with another question, baby.

I’m in the back.

Come to the front then.

Well, that answered your question well enough.

You made your way through the crowded back room, through the hall. You looked in the first front room and did not see him anywhere and you went through the doorway to the main front room where the bigger bar was set up. You spotted him and Steve sitting in a booth against the wall. He had told you that Steve was aware of your relationship, which had made you nervous, but Tony seemed to trust him, so you had to trust in that.

Sliding into the booth next to him, you asked, “What’s going on?”

“Figured we would swing by and see if you wanted to go out with us and Steve’s lady for the night.” Steve smirked at the comment. “Exclusive place.”

“You couldn’t have just texted me to get the answer?”

Tony simpered, “I wasn’t really looking to ask.”

Of course not. He was not the asking type.

“When are you going?”

“I’d prefer sooner rather than later. This bar is pretty… college-y.”

“I’m not entirely complaining,” Steve said finally speaking, his eyes wandering around the bar at all the people. His eyes lingered on one in particular and he winked at them, causing them to smile shyly.

“Can I get my drink then? Before we go?” you asked. “I was just about to.”

“If you move, I can go grab it for you,” Tony told you.

You shook your head, and he narrowed his eyes slightly. You quickly explained, “My friend owes me one. I bought the first round.”

“If you insist,” Tony said bringing his glass to his lips.

You tapped his arm before getting up again and walking through the tables to go back to the hall leading back to your table. You walked up to the table and your roommate, Mara, that was out with the small group asked you where your drink was. You eyed the line at the bar back here and frowned at how long it was.

“I’m gonna get but I wanna take that shot,” you said over the music to your friend, Gabriel. “Wanna come back up with me to the front bar? There’s less of a line up there surprisingly than the one back here.”

Mara was eyeing you knowingly, a smug smirk on her lips. You had been seeing Tony now for months since they had caught him leaving. You glared at her, willing her to stay quiet, as you grabbed your purse, and she held back a laugh.

Gabriel followed you up to the front bar and you shot a quick look in the direction of the booth to make sure they were still there. Tony was not looking at you but Steve was. Gabriel was talking to you and drew your attention away, your back to the booth now. The line went quickly and the two of you ordered your shots, took them, and left the glasses on the bar. You gave him a quick hug before parting ways.

Steve was getting up out of the booth, avoiding eye contact as he straightened out his leather jacket.

“I’ll be outside,” he said to Tony more than anything.

Tony finished off his drink and got up as well, his body brushing yours. He was peering down his nose at you and asked, “Anybody I gotta be worried about?”

“What?”

“The guy?” Tony asked.

“Yes, my friend.”

“’Friend’.”

You realized where this conversation was going and you sighed heavily, “Tony, don’t—”

“Don’t what?” he asked, a dangerous tone underlying.

“I promise you I mean it when I say a friend,” you told him, leaning into him. His expression was stern, and you grabbed the lapels of his jacket, to pull yourself closer, and said, “Trust me.”

Tony’s tongue ran across his lower lip and he finally said, “Don’t betray that trust, precious.”

Later outside the high-end club, Tony and you took a break from the atmosphere to mess around in the backseat of his car. Foreheads pressed together as you straddled him, low moans filling the space in the car until the two of you came tumbling down.

Tony pressed his nose at you to get you to move your face and his lips found yours, his hand at the back of your head holding you tight.

“I gotta go on a trip for a week overseas,” he murmured.

“Where?”

His eyes crinkled with a tickled smile, “You really think I can tell you that?”

Shrugging sheepishly, you said, “No, I guess not.”

He pecked your nose, “I’ll be back before you know it. Promise. And I’ll bring you something back.”

That perked you up much to his amusement.

<><><>

You were coming back from the pool house a month later when you saw Tony coming up the path. You faltered in your steps as he advanced. He barely broke stride as he grabbed your arm and began pulling you along with him.

“What are you doing?” you asked him alarmed, stumbling once as you worked to match his stride.

He did not answer.

He was drunk, that was apparent.

You had been out with your mum shopping and she had asked you to take the new towels out to the pool house. Tony was over watching a football game with some of the other men and you noticed he had caught sight of you walking from the hall to the kitchen. You had tried to ignore his stare as you disappeared again, heading out the door. You had turned him down earlier in the week about him coming over and he being his persistent self, had shown up at your place anyway, only to find you gone. He had called you and you had had barely any signal as you told him you were not there, you were up in the mountains with your friends. You had not told him you were going on a trip considering it had been decided on a whim and that had only irked him more. You had not spoken since you had gotten back.

It seemed he did not pick up on the hint to be subtle and let it be until a better time.

“Tony, we can’t—” you tried to plead. You were terrified someone was going to catch you here and he was too gone to either care or think of that. Even if you were in the pool house, someone could have seen you two sneak in.

“Tony, my mum sent me out here to put the towels out here. We had more things to put away inside! She’s gonna wonder where I’m at!”

He was still ignoring you, dragging you and he shoved you inside the bathroom.

“Tony!” you tried again.

“Be quiet!” Tony ordered you, turning you around forcibly. Your hands sprawled on the wall, your ass pressing into his pelvis. His breath was hot on your neck when he said, “You ready to apologize?”

“Apologize—”

“Avoiding me?” he growled.

“I’m not—” you said trying to turn around, but his grip flexed, forcing you to stay as you were.

“Don’t lie to me,” he snapped, hiking your dress up and shoving your thong aside to give him access. “How long have you been back?”

“A day—” you started to say but it was strangled in your throat as he began stroking your nub.

“A whole damn day and no text. No call,” he muttered angrily underneath his breath, working you up to get you ready for him. “Nothing to let me know you were back. That’s fucking naughty of you.” You ground against his fingers, biting your lip, whimpering. Upon hearing your arousal, he sneered, “You’re lucky I’m even taking the time to get you ready at all, precious.”

You felt and heard how wet you were getting – he knew how to play you like a fiddle.

Tony’s fingers disappeared and he kicked one of your legs out to spread you out further for him. Without much warning, he was pressing in roughly, his hands gripping at your hips. You moaned lowly as he stretched you out and let out a sudden cry as he pulled out and slammed back in. His thrusts were causing you to have to press your hands painfully into the wall to keep steady. He was not going easy at all.

One of his hands left your hip to wrap around your throat, holding your head back as he drove himself deeper. Your ass was clapping against his pelvis, mixing with the moans and his lewd taunting.

“You little slut, thinking you could hide from me,” he growled, giving a particularly hard thrust. “I thought I taught you better manners than that!”

“I’m sorry, sir,” you keened.

Tony only stalled to yank you away from the wall and whirl you around to the sink, bending you over it before resuming his brutal pace. Your fingers dug into the countertop, as you begged, “Please, please, please.”

“Please what?” Tony husked, his hips snapping.

He was driving deep, brushing your core with precision and you cried out again.

“Please fuck me, make me cum,” you whined in response, drawing a strangled laugh out of Tony.

“Just can’t fucking help yourself, can you?”

You heard the door open from behind the pair of you and your stomach dropped to your feet.

“What the hell is this?” you heard your mum exclaim.

Tony was out of you in a second, stuffing himself back in his pants. You craned your head around mortified, finding your mum staring at the two of you, disbelief splashed across her face.

Her gaze snapped to Tony, suddenly murderous. She slapped him across the face with all the strength she could muster and shrieked, “You absolute piece of fucking shit! She’s a child!”

Tony looked furious at her laying hands on him.

“Now, Rebecca,” Tony said loudly. She went to hit him again, but he was quick, and he pushed her to the wall as you rushed to push your dress down. He had her pinned there by her collarbone.

“Tony!” you pleaded, coming up towards them but he held his hand out, warning you to stay back.

You stopped, looking between the two of them wildly. Your mother only had eyes for him, trying to pull his hand away with no avail.

“Let me go!” your mum demanded, trying to push his hand away but your mother was a very small woman and Tony was so much larger than her. “Are you insane? Do you know what Damien—”

“Are you? Are you insane?” Tony asked dangerously, their noses brushing. She struggled again but he shoved her back again roughly and she finally stilled, glaring murderously at him. His voice was low, “You don’t want trouble with the mob. Running off and telling your husband is only going to cause that. If he loses his temper, they’ll take my side on this and all the power he’s got is going to be compromised because he’ll lose our support. How do you think you two would fare without that support, hmm?” He was searching your mother’s face, who was silent now. He scoffed when he saw she knew what he was saying was right. He dug his hand in again and she only flinched slightly, “And Y/N’s an adult, not a child, as you just so stupidly said. She can make her own fucking choices.”

“Let. Me. Go,” your mother said, enunciating every word. “I got the message.”

Tony only held on for a few more seconds before he pushed away from her. He tore his eyes away from her before saying to you, “I’ll text you later.”

He left the room, leaving the two of you standing there, staring at each other. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife and you hated the disappointed look on her face. Time seemed to expand into an eternity that the two of you were standing there before she finally spoke.

“How long?” your mother rasped out. You looked at the ground and you felt her gaze boring into you. She demanded louder, “How long, Y/N?”

“Since October,” you said weakly.

“Christ,” she half sobbed. “That’s almost a year, Y/N! What were you thinking?”

You shrugged helplessly, “I… we have a relationship.”

Your mother shook her head and snapped, “You can’t!”

“I love him!”

“Y/N, you don’t know what love is. He’s twice your age! He’s using you!”

“No, he’s not. You don’t know—”

“I know what I know!” your mother exclaimed, causing you to close your mouth. She looked heartbroken, her eyes watering. “I know, Y/N. I know men like him. I’ve dealt with them too! He’s taking your most formative years and weaving himself into them! You can’t let… you can’t let him do that. You can’t build yourself around him.”

“I’m not!”

“I don’t want you to see him.”

“I can make my own choices!” you said firmly.

She scoffed loudly, wiping away tears that had started to fall over. “What would your father think?” Your face screwed up in worry and you started to argue but she cut in forcibly, “I know! I know Y/N! That fucking… bastard is right. I won’t… I can’t say anything.” Her eyes met yours again and she shook her head. “Jesus, Y/N. I can’t look at you right now.”

Jaw clenched, you got the hint and stormed past her to leave and go home, irate and miserable at how the night had turned out.

<><><>

You had still continued to see Tony much to your mother’s disapproval. You meant it when you said you loved him, and you resented your mum telling you that you did not. But after seeing how he had treated her in the pool house, a small part of you was unsure now about the longevity and stability of the relationship. How could you stay together in secret like this forever, especially when he was ready to threaten anyone that tried to separate the two of you?

Unfortunately, you did not get the chance to make the decision for yourself.

“What happened?” you asked concerned, coming up to your mum quickly in their living room. You had come over to have dinner with them, but it did not look like dinner was going to be happening for a while or at all.

Your father was shouting into the phone on the patio, a few of his guys outside with him. There was fury and desperation in the air.

Your mum pulled you aside and said, “Something happened. I mean, obviously. sorry. Um,” she paused, stammering, as your father let out a slew of cuss words. “Um, your dad is trying to get control of the situation. Pull himself clear of it.”

“What situation?”

“There was a… police bust. Some of the men got arrested for… you know, it doesn’t matter what for. But, just let your father do his thing. Stay out of his way. It’s what I’m doing. How about you and me go out and grab food? It’s best for everyone to just let him be.” She paused and then added, “And honestly, this situation is best for you.”

The way she said that…

You knew who had been arrested.

Pulling away from her, you saw her start to say something else, but you turned abruptly, taking off down the hall towards the entrance way where you had left your purse. You dug through it clumsily before getting your phone out and dialing Tony.

His phone went straight to voicemail.

<><><>

~7 years later

You pulled up to your parent’s house seeing the copious amount of cars lined along the driveway. They were having their annual beginning of summer get together and as usual, you were invited as well as your closest friends, so you had people to hang out with. Some of your friends had already arrived, more than comfortable around your parents without you there.

The person that mattered the most to hang out with though was sitting in the passenger seat.

Your husband smiled at you and said, “I am very much ready for your mum’s crab cakes. Well.. you know, Willa’s crab cakes. Your mum just oversees the process.”

You snorted at this and said, “I know you are. And yes that is very true.”

It was hard to try to keep your heartbeat even now that you were here. You were going to have to face him. Tony and the others had just been released days before. You needed to steer clear of him after having ghosted him when he got arrested. You had been young, so young, and he had been sent to a different state for prison. It had been easy to make excuses and your mother had encouraged the excuses.

Your husband would shield you. You would make sure of that.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld

[miss-bridgerton]

for real l anthony bridgerton x you l part one

word count: 1,887 words

pairing: anthony bridgerton x you

author’s note: part 1 finally! it’s not much going on, but this is just the beginning. 

taglist: @fact-fictionx @alainabooks143 @michael-loves-chickens @misstonybridgerton

summary: Everyone knew that the Viscount was a rake. Except for, apparently, three young women who clung to his every word. Anthony Bridgerton was in fact charming. But he was absolutely terrible at dating three women at once. Some would call him a dunce for doing so. Others might call him a hero. Adelia Byron called him dead when she found out. Set out on revenge, she and the other two young ladies, Bette DuPont and Siena Rosso, decide to transform a lonely bakers girl into someone who can break the heart of the Viscount.

            PART 1: THE SOCIETY PAPER THAT CAUSED A SCENE

YOU HAD NO IDEA that a gossip column would be the cause of a brawl in your family’s tea shop and bakery: The Fancy Teapot.

Overly priced earl grey tea? Oh, absolutely.

Chairs that pinched the bottoms of debutantes and their mammas? Pinched bottoms surely caused nasty sneers a plenty.

But the latest gossip from the squares’ paper? You certainly didn’t see that coming.

It was all because of the Viscount. Lord Anthony Bridgerton was indeed charming. He had that smile that they all seemed to fawn over. His hair was swept in all the right places. And he was a British nobleman.

What more could a young lady want?

You rolled your eyes at the words that frequented that paper. What more could a young lady want? Well, for starters, you wanted freedom. You wanted to bake. You wanted to explore different cities. Eat exotic foods. Tell stories to your future nieces and nephews of your adventures. You didn’t care about marriage, no matter how many times your sister-in-law pushed it on to you. You just simply wanted to. . .experience life.

Unlike the young women who frequented The Fancy Teapot. They were all scouring for eligible unmarried men. It was what they were taught. It was all that they knew, really. 

And two debutantes who enjoyed sipping tea in The Fancy Teapot had no idea that they were both courting the Viscount. Until it came out on paper, that is.

It was a sunny spring morning and the social season had sprung in London. You loved the social season for the money it brought the tea shop, but you absolutely loathed the social season for the debutantes and their snooty behavior. They were all perfect. Beautiful gowns. Rosy pinched cheeks. The stink of wealth swarmed them like bees attracted to honey.

You had none of those things. You came from a working family. You came from two different countries. Your father had travelled to (a country of your choosing) where he met your mother and they fell in love and married within a week of him being there. Your father had convinced your mother to leave everything behind to be with him in London, but her one condition was to open a tea shop and bakery. 

He clung to his part of the condition. Soon after opening the shop, your older brother Jack was born. Five years later, you were born. For a short while, it was the four of you. Kids running through the tea shop, experimenting with teas, you found the love of baking with your mother, and your parents were still so madly in love it was almost embarrassing. Sadly, your mother became ill and passed away two years ago. 

The death was stricken. And hard on you. But it was your father that you and Jack worried after, for it was almost as if he became a different person. As if he lost a part of himself when your mother died. He tried to drink his sorrows away at the pubs, and fancied spending too much money on gambles and bets. 

That morning, he was nowhere near the tea shop, probably somewhere betting on poker chips, when you had to break apart two debutantes from nearly mauling each other.

Adelia Byron was with her friend, Cressida Cowper, at a small table near the colossal windows. She didn’t say thank you or even acknowledged your existence when you set down her steaming chamomile tea and slice of cornish hevva cake. You rolled your eyes at the way she gloated over the attention she received at the Warwick ball. Adelia was still on a thrill from two nights before, where the touch of the Viscount’s hand on her back as they danced was still on her. She dreamt of his gorgeous eyes. And when she saw the bouquets of roses addressed to her that morning, she was in total bliss.

Her friend, Cressida, was jealous. Adelia knew it. And if there was something Adelia Byron was known for, it was that she enjoyed bragging. Her father was a Baron, which made her quite eligible for marriage to a Viscount. She had elegant features: Dark red hair, stormy eyes, high cheek-bones. She had already received three proposals but Adelia knew what she wanted. Who she wanted.

Simply put, nobody else would do. She was going to marry the Viscount. And God help her and anyone who got in her way. 

On the other side of The Fancy Teapot, situated at a round table underneath an elegant painting by your brother Jack, was Elizabeth DuPont and her overbearing mother, Colette. Elizabeth, often called Bette, was the daughter of The Marquess of DuPont. So her marriage to a man of great wealth and a powerful title was extremely vital. To her mother, at least.

Bette was fond of the Viscount. He swept her away with his words, he was impressed with the way she could speak French and German, and the kiss he laid upon her gloved hand sent a thrill through her body. She couldn’t bear to tell her mother that when she went out to the balcony for a quick breath of fresh air during the Warwick Ball, she was accompanied by Lord Anthony Bridgerton.

Her mother would have been furious. She wanted Bette to charm the Prince - not the Viscount. She wanted her daughter to marry a title higher, not a title lower. 

You had just set down two tea cups of herbal tea at their table when one of the young newsie boys stopped by the Fancy Teapot to drop off the new Society Paper. 

“Hey, Sam,” you greeted the ten year old boy. He often was the one who sauntered in here to deliver the paper and he did it eagerly, knowing fully well that you were going to give him some free wrapped biscuits, like always.

“Y/N!” He greeted with a boyish grin. “What’s on the menu today? I hope it's something drowned in sugar!” He said excitedly.

You laughed and grabbed the box of warm treacle tarts from under the front counter. “It’s not drowned in sugar, but I think you’ll still enjoy them,” you told him.

He grinned widely. “You’re a real magician, Miss Y/L/N!”

You smiled warmly as the little boy went off and you were so busy handing over his desserts that you didn’t even notice, Dorothea, your sister-in-law, completely captivated by the latest Lady Whistledown’s writings.

“Bloody Hell,” she muttered, leaning her back against the counter and reading the paper. A mama and her daughter were standing by the counter, awaiting some assistance and looking very peevish. You sighed at how unobservant Dorothea was.

You took care of the customers and then turned to Dorothea, who looked as if she had acquired the most scandalous news.

“Y/N! Have you read this yet? It’s so scandalous!”

“No,” you replied, though you were a bit curious. “Who is it about?”

“The Viscount.”

“Hard pass,” you replied.

Dorothea rolled her eyes. “You are impossible. It’s not just about him but about the women he’s apparently leading on. And,” she took a moment to look around the tea shop and then in a hushed tone continued, “two of them are in here. Right now. Unaware of all of it!”

Well, surely just a peak at the new Society Paper wouldn’t do any harm. You grabbed the paper and took a look:

At the Warwick ball Thursday evening, Viscount Bridgerton was seen dancing with not one eligible young lady, but two. Now, I assume you dear readers know quite the reputation of our charming Viscount, as this behavior isn’t quite unusual. If you are familiar with the season’s doings, dancing with eligible suitors is normal.

Except Lord Anthony Bridgerton was seen with Miss Bette DuPont awfully close on the brink of the balcony and also seen later that evening with a certain opera singer, Siena Rosso, nuzzling her neck in a dark corner of the opera house.

How will the ladies take this embarrassment? Well, this author predicts that Miss Bette DuPont will turn a rather shade red and Miss Adelia Byron’s eyes will flash with a colour quite similar. Miss Siena Rosso will probably be locked up in a bedroom with the Viscount to even notice.

LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS,16 APRIL 1814

Oh, brother, you thought. This better not cause anything stupid in here -

“HOW DARE YOU!!!!”

You and Dorothea looked up in bewilderment at the sudden outburst. And there it was. Lady Adelia Byron, looking absolutely furious, clutching the society paper, and standing over Lady Bette DuPont who was sitting at her table, looking between a mix of surprise and confusion.

“I beg your pardon?” Bette said to her appalled. 

“You!” Adelia yelled. “You are involved with my suitor! How dare you?! You - you - harlot!”

Bette’s jaw dropped but it was her mother who spoke. “My, I never! That is quite unladylike behavior, young lady. My Elizabeth is not some harlot, clearly you cannot read because you have been thoroughly mistaken.”

Adelia rolled her stormy eyes and handed over the paper. Bette hastily read it before gasping, throwing a pretty gloved hand over her mouth.

“This cannot be true. My Lord would never do such things.” Bette told her.

“My Lord?” Adelia mocked. “He’s not your anything. I am going to marry him. So this little rendezvous is finished.”

Bette raised a brow. “I don’t think so,” she simply replied and took a sip of her tea.

Adelia looked as if she was going to chuck that steaming tea pot at the young lady’s head, so you had no choice - you had to get involved.

“Ladies, please, there is no need to act in such a manner,” you told them. They both looked in your direction, looking at you as if you were just a nobody. As if they were thinking, who the hell are you and who makes you think you have any say in this?

You cleared your throat. “He’s just a man,” you tried to explain.

Adelia snorted. “Idiot,” she said under her breath.

You narrowed your eyes at her. “You know, instead of getting mad at each other for something neither of you two were unaware of, you should be mad at him. Instead you are fighting over the tosser. Now that is an idiot.”

Both girls’ jaws dropped at what you said. But both didn’t say anything in retaliation. Instead, Adelia lifted her head high and walked away with what dignity she possessed and Bette went back to her tea, ignoring her mother’s angry stares.

Dorothea was nearly bursting in astonishment and the tea shop, which went quiet during the whole argument, went back to the bustling noise it always had.

All went back to normal. Until later that evening. 

While you were cleaning up and closing down The Fancy Teapot for the day, you found a folded napkin at the same table that Adelia Byron sat with Cressida Cowper. Inside was a perfectly scrawled note addressed to you.

Not many people can inspire me, but you, Miss Bakery girl, did. Visit my estate as soon as you can manage. We have a lot to discuss.

X Miss Adelia Byron

[passivenovember]

I love to read anything with vulnerable billy! 🥺

Kitschy, Campy, and Kooky: Pillowcases from Beyond the Veil.

Day Four: Sunglasses

--

Part One: Rockwell

His mother got into patterning and draping only hours, it seemed, before she disappeared from his life. Her slim, pale fingers cutting and measuring fabric. Sewing strips together and leaving room for true craftsmanship, hands shaking even as the bruises on her arms were laid to rest.

Billy’s mother started out easy, with fleece blankets and cushion covers that complimented the wallpaper in their living room; mustard yellow and fern green and burnt orange. Colors that brought fall raining down from the heavens on even the hottest days of summer.

Autumn was their favorite. Autumn meant snuggling up to watch I Was a Teenage Werewolf and Bewitched, Billy’s eyes drooping closed as his mother read the Archie comics to him under blankets that had little pumpkins and candy corns on them.

Autumn was magical.

Autumn was firewood and hot chocolate and bat shaped fairy lights above the hole in the wall. Halloween. That was always Billy’s favorite.

His mother started sewing pillow cases after Neil caught him sucking his thumb the first time.

It was Autumn. Just before Halloween, or maybe right after. The sky was thick with rain and fog and they were happy.

Happy things never lived long, in their house, for it had to be cultivated. Watered and fertilized. No, their happiness was locked away in a dark room, only to be brought out and held when the house was empty.

They didn’t have enough money in the bank that year to buy a new pillow case, after Billy’s shield was torn to pieces, but they had fabric. Shelves and dressers full of the stuff, spilling out from between the tinges of pain in his cheek.

Neil slammed through the front door and Billy’s mother tried to fix what had been broken.

She got on her knees and straightened his Addams Family pajamas. Took his hands and tried to get him to look her in the eye. “Pick out whatever you want,” She said. His mother’s voice sounded like running water, like swelling rivers. “I have every color. What kind of print do you want, Billy?”

But Billy couldn’t move.

His feet had grown roots, travelling through the hardwood floor and down into the basement. Past his mother’s cutting table and beyond her sewing machine, into the depths of the Earth.

Billy felt himself sinking. Felt himself be buried alive, as his mother rubbed the backs of his hands and tried to bring their happiness back out into the light.

--

The pillowcase was purple. Just close enough to pink that Billy knew his father would tear it to shreds if he ever saw it himself, but the shade was also mysterious. Blue, like the raging seas during a hurricane. Dark and spooky and smooth like silk against his skin, but also happy, too.

Autumn themed.

Halloween themed, with little bats wearing sunglasses.

“So you can had a slice of your two favorite times of the year, all at once. Summer and Fall, too.” His mother said. She gave Billy the chance to enjoy his gift by hiding the case in plain sight, as the flip side to a slate gray monstrosity that reminded Billy of Neil. Of the eyes, that were always watching.

Billy loved his pillowcase.

Through November and into Yule. Past frozen rivers and into spring, when his mother’s sewing machine disappeared.

--

Part Two: Bates

The pillowcase was a puzzle Steve knew he was never going to solve.

The fabric was worn thin. Torn and fraying along the seams and sporting a rip down one side, the result of hundreds and thousands of nights in bed with a boy who slept with a pillow cradled against his chest.

Steve wondered if the hideous thing knew how much it was loved.

If it had counted the times Billy had lugged it around the house and on road trips, bearing witness to the battles Steve had lost in trying to suggest they have it replaced with something that didn’t have to be pieced together so it would seem whole.

He hated those bats, too, with their smug little faces. Watching from behind designer sunglasses as Steve tried to pry them loose so he could be closer to Billy. So he could take their place.

Steve would never take their place, it seemed.

He didn’t know why, didn’t understand why, until he came home one afternoon to find Billy on the floor.

Crying, on the floor, or. Dry heaving.

The tears had long since dried, gifting tacky, salt-slug lines down his cheeks as Steve’s husband gripped a long, bat covered piece of fabric in both hands.

“It ripped.” Billy's voice was hollow. Empty. “It tore in half. I didn’t think it would do that, I through maybe I could stitch it back together every time it fell apart, I thought I would be able to keep her with me for a little while longer, I--”

“--Bills--”

“I wasn’t ready for this.” Billy said wildly, clutching the fabric to his tear stained cheek. “I’m not ready for this.”

“It was an old pillowcase, sweetheart, you had to know it was going to happen sooner or later.”

“She’s gone.”

Steve frowned, crouching on the floor in front of him. “Who’s gone, baby?”

Billy’s mouth worked for a long time around words that ended up on the cutting room floor. He trembled, barely letting Steve get an arm around him, as the truth came tumbling out.

“My mama.” He said quietly. “My mama gave it to me.”

“She did.”

“Yeah, she made it for me. Before she left, she said.” Billy chuckled, thick and wet. “She told me it would keep me safe.”

Steve rubbed a hand down Billy’s arm, nodding against a flood of realization. “Yeah, well. She could’ve kept you safe, Bills. She could’ve done that, instead of leaving you with that fucking monster--”

“Can you just.” Billy tangled a piece of purple fabric around one hand. “Can you hold me?”

Steve sat on the ground next to him, and. Tried to understand it.

--

Coaxing Billy to sleep and failing, day after day, was what made him sign up for the class.

Steve had been hoping the rec center would provide sewing machines. That he wouldn’t have to call Joyce and ask five hundred questions about shit he couldn’t possibly understand. Like presser foots and cutting tables and rounded stencils, and--

“Why don’t you come by the house?” She said. “I could teach you for free.”

“You’d do that?”

“Sure.” Joyce sounded like she was smiling. “I’m free on Thursdays.”

Part Three: Curdle

Autumn was Billy’s favorite time of year for a lot of reasons.

The pumpkins, maybe. Most of all. Boozy apple cider with granny smith juice and far too much cinnamon that made their limbs loose and heavy. Cuddling up on the couch  to watch Hocus Pocus and Thriller. Trying to learn the dance moves, and. Crying from laughter when they couldn’t learn the dance moves.

And Steve.

Steve Harrington in warm, mustard colored sweaters and beanies pulled far too low over his eyebrows to ward off the chill when he came home from work, trailing the smell of haze-covered trees and maple sugar donuts after him.

He was holding a box, that afternoon.

An orange and black cardboard thing with a bow on top. “Open it.” Steve said, with that glint in his eye.

That glint did a lot of things to Billy. “How come?”

“Because I made you something.”

Billy’s eyebrows shot toward the sky. “You made something? Like a craft?”

Steve shrugged, wind-chilled cheeks turning pink and bright. “Maybe so.” He said softly. And then, “Open in.” Because they weren’t getting any younger.

Billy tore the wrapping paper carefully.

He liked to save it, folded neatly in the holiday section of their basement. Liked to rifle through the discarded coverings when he wanted to find the perfect pattern for--

“It took months to find the fabric.” Steve muttered. “They discontinued it sometime in the late 70s, but Joyce knew someone in town who used to stockpile the shit, so.”

“Steve--”

“It cost an arm and a leg but I wanted to make it up to you.” Steve took Billy’s face in his hands, thumbs brushing soft over the tears that had appeared there. “I wanted to show that you’re safe now, Billy. With me. That even though you don’t need a piece of fabric to protect you, anymore, it’s still nice to have. Even though it’s not the one your mom made.”

The bats smiled up at him, and it was perfect.

Purple. Just close enough to the pink of Steve’s cheeks that Billy knew it was better than the one that had come before because of what it meant. Dark and twinkling like a sky full of stars. Soft and spooky and smooth like silk against his skin, but also happy, too.

So happy.

[mrskurono]

title: Regret Nothing || Hanamaki x fem!Reader a/n: man idk anymore just thinking about Makki 24/7 is my job now word count: idk it’s a drabble tags: fluff, domestic au, angst if you squint, dirty joke at the end character(s): Takahiro Hanamaki (hq)

The one sided shouting match in the living room sounded lively as ever for a Saturday. 

Peeking your head around the corner to see your kids pointing at the tv going on about something you were destined to be filled in about later. What you didn’t see was your husband. Certain he was apart of the foolery going on if they were complaining about videogames.

“You two, where’s your father?” All eyes are torn from the screen immediately to look at you. 

That classic unenthused look they inherited from their father was shared between both tweens before shrugging.

“Dad got a text from uncle Tooru and told us to keep playing.” Your oldest shrugged it off. Returning to the two player game where the youngest had already pressed resume on their game.

“I think he went to the bathroom.” Your youngest popped off without tearing their attention away from the screen.

“Dad had to poop probably.” An addition by the oldest.

You sigh with an eye roll, “Thank you detectives. Make sure we get you two a puzzle game next time for those skills you got there.” The threat of education on their free time earned a groan from both of them. Making you grin and ruffle their hairs before going to find their father.

As suspected Takahiro wasn’t in the bathroom. If gaming time was on the line you’d seen that man out weight both kids to prove he was the ultimate winner. So it was weird that he’d told them to keep playing. On a Saturday too. This was their cheat day to play together. So when it was mentioned a text from Tooru distracted him. You were a little worried since most the time you were included on those groups texts.

Running through what could have been sent, nothing really comes to mind. Issei had said both Hajime and Tooru were doing good last Sunday when everyone had dinner. And if it was an emergency then of course Takahiro would have told you. 

Combing through your own thoughts to find your husband not in the bathroom like both kids had told you. You find him back in your bedroom in fact. To your surprise actually.

“Hey, the kids are loosing that stupid game of theirs. Did they finally beat you?” You ask with a smile as you approach him seated on the bed. More than surprised by the mystery text, you’re unsure of what to think when you see old albums at your husband’s feet. With the oldest one in his lap. Open to pictures of graduation of all things. A crease forms on your forehead and you rub your hand along his shoulders, “What, did big star-kawa need an old photo for a cheesy interview?”

No response. Your frown deepens and you take a seat next to him.

“Love what’s up with you the kids said Tooru texted you and-”

“Do you regret marrying me?”

Blindsided by such a question. You take a moment to even comprehend the kind of inane question that was. Instead you can’t fathom why he even asked that.

“Takahiro what are you even talking about?” You look at the album spread in his lap then to his face, “What crap are you even on to ask that?”

He reached up and palmed the back of his neck with a little shrug, “I’m sorry...I just...Tooru sent a text about the anniversary of his first medal. It wasn’t that bad but Issei last week at dinner. And Hajime opening another fitness center....You could have done so much better than me y’know? Living abroad or at least living some place with three times as much space and-”

“Hah!” 

Certainly not the reaction the man was looking to hear. It was enough that he took his eyes off the old photos to look at you literally snorting at his words. His turn to frown Takahiro didn’t see what was so funny about it all. To him it felt true.

“First off, why look at this one? I hated your uniforms so much.” 

“Hey!” 

“Oh just hush-” You take the album from his lap and tuck it back in the box. Only to thumb through to the third one in. Plucking it from the confines of old musty box and setting it on your lap, “Now this one.”

Takahiro frowned, “I mean, that’s not even the wedding album. What one is that one? The kids or moving or-”

“It’s my favorite album is what it is.” You answer him as you swipe your hand over the face of it. 

Unlike the others which were neatly labeled. This one bore no name. No baby’s first. No wedding photos. No post high school. No nothing. It was nameless and blank.

Grumbling Takahiro was still upset that you blew him off. Even more so when you opened to the middle of the album at random to what was clearly a set of blurry pictures. To the untrained eye this was the reject pile if there ever was one.

“Do you remember that one?” You ignore his sour face and point at the waterlogged picture of what appeared to be a bowl of fruit.

Scrutinizing it a bit closer he had to think a moment, “...that was that fake fruit bowl my sister thought would be funny to give us for our first apartment....god but the photo got wine on it after that one stay at home date we had.”

“That was such a nice bottle of wine.” You shook your head, “A real shame we spilled it.”

“We?” He snorted, “I told you that kitchen was too small for decorations and to dance.”

“Oh how about this one?” You point at the rabid blurred face of both of your kids. Somewhere in the three to six range. The picture clearly unmarked by a date but with the way your oldest had a missing front tooth and the littler of the two sporting bangs almost identical to Takahiro’s in high school, it was clear they were still little.

“That was my oldest sister’s birthday party god they ate so much cake I could have killed her.” Takahiro groaned at the war flash back of the mess and trouble of sugar high kids at their aunt’s house.

“How about this?” You pointed at a picture. 

One that stumped him in fact. Takahiro leaned down and tried to make out what it was with the awful sun glare that skewed literally everything in the photo. Not to mention the wine stain from ages ago. Meaning this was an old photo he was drawing a blank on.

“...is that you or me? Where we were? I don’t even remember that.” 

A smile blossoms on your face and you lean your head into your husband’s shoulder, “That was right after graduation...we had that big trip planned but everyone coped out at the last second. So you and I went instead.”

“Oh the seagull thing!” 

You nod and trace your fingers over the assorted poorly taken pictures. Some of them newer and some of them older. All of them clear rejects to the real well done albums. But still something about them made you happier to look at than anything else.

“If you’re gonna ask me if I regret marrying you. Then I want you to ask yourself the same thing.”

For a second he looked appalled, “Of course not! You are my everything! Marrying you was one of the best days of my life, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

“See,” You close the book and take a moment to cup his round cheeks in your hands, “So that’s your answer.”

Takahiro closed his eyes and let his face rest in your palms, “But...you could have been traveling the world...living in luxury. I just...I could have done more for you. Could have been more.”

“Takahiro Hanamaki-” Your stern tone made him open his eyes to you, “Outside this room are two of the most smartest, annoying little mini you’s I’ve ever met and I would have never had them if you didn’t give them to me. They’re that wonderful because of you. Because you’re their dad. Because you’re an amazing father and an even more amazing husband.” You take a moment, swiping your thumb over his forever chubby cheek and smiling to keep yourself from tearing up, “You’ve given me the world. And then some. I’ve never regretted a day in my life with you in it. Being with you...I regret nothing.”

Choked up for a moment. The man laughs, be it too keep from crying himself. Takahiro wipes at his face and pushes his forehead against yours, “Even though I’m just a lousy stay at home dad huh?”

Again you laugh, this time pulling his face close to yours so you can kiss him hard and long. It draws out for a second before you look up at him and peck him once more on the lips, “I’ve never seen anything sexier than you taking care of those kids. Fuck living in Argentina. The sexiest place in the world is right here with you.”

Takahiro’s face breaks out to the biggest grin as he wraps his arms around you, “You uh...was pretend to make another one of those mini me’s you think are so cute?”

“They’re on the second boss fight,” You grin with a kiss to his cheek, “Hurry up and shut the door and we can do more than pretend.”

[wolfstarflowerpottstarchaser]

Romione - The Beginning of Dating

The Battle of Hogwarts was on Saturday, 2 May 1998

They helped to rebuild Hogwarts over a couple of weeks (even with magic, it was a large property that took a lot of work)

Then the Weasleys went back to the Burrow along with Harry - who wasn’t keen to get back to Privet Drive - and Hermione who had no home to go back to

Hermione was a huge help to have around those few weeks. Molly hardly left her bed, distraught from Fred’s death, so Hermione helped around the house and brought her tea

But she was especially a comfort to Ron

They never wanted to leave each other after the war, so they shared Ron’s room

Hermione insisted Ron didn’t have to give up his bed while Ron insisted she take it until Hermione suggested they just share it

It was innocent. Not that other things didn’t cross their mind after years of pining, but it was the last thing they thought of after the casualties and deaths they’d witnessed

But they would hold each other. Some nights they’d talk until the sun came up about the war or sometimes they’d just talk about nothing in particular

Other nights they would just embrace each other in silence, neither wanting to talk but not wanting to be alone

Hermione would talk about her parents and one night, she asked Ron if he would go with her to get them, to bring back their memories

"You want me to come to Australia?"

"You don’t have to. Oh, of course you don’t want to leave home now. Forget I said anything, it’s-"

"Hermione, of course I’ll come. I want to come."

When they found them, Hermione couldn’t bring herself to say the charm because she was crying too much, so Ron did it himself

He was a little nervous as Hermione was better at such things, but he tried really hard for her sake and it worked

There was a tearful reunion and Ron felt a bit silly standing around until finally Mrs Granger looked at him, then up at his red hair, and she beamed

"Oh, my goodness! Ronald!" she gave him a large hug as if they were the best of friends. "We haven’t seen you since you were - what was it, dear? - 12 or 13! Of course, the amount Hermione spoke about you, it felt like we saw you every time she was home-"

"Mum!"

"Don’t be embarrassed, Hermione. He’s a lovely looking boy!"

While Mr Weasley loved Ron, he was not keen for him to share a room with Hermione so he took the sofa while Hermione took the spare room

It was difficult to fall asleep at first because they’d gotten so used to the other’s presence at night

The room felt so quiet to Hermione without Ron’s snoring, and to Ron without Hermione humming symphonies in her sleep

Both thought of the other

But eventually they did fall asleep and Ron was the first to wake up when he heard Mrs Granger tiptoeing around the kitchen, trying to make tea silently and failing

"I’m sorry, Ron, did I wake you?"

"No! No, I’m always up at... 5 in the morning."

"Oh, good! I’ll make you some tea. How many sugars do you take? Do you watch Friends? I’ve got a few episodes recorded we can watch on telly!"

Ron is his father’s son and Mrs Granger is delighted by his interest in the television, but doesn’t make him feel silly and answers all his questions

She offered to make him breakfast, but he declined, rather waiting until everyone was eating so he wasn’t a burden even though he was, in fact, starving

When Hermione ran down later that morning, she spluttered with laughter at Ron who was sat on the sofa with her mother, gawping at the screen

"Did he just say Rachel?" Ron gasped. "But isn’t that one Rachel? The bride was called Emily! Ross! Ross, her name is Emily! Why can’t he hear me?"

"They can’t hear you, Ron, it’s pre-recorded"

Ron was crestfallen. "So you just have to watch and do nothing? You can’t help? Blimey."

Ron expected some sort of speech from Mr Granger, but he seemed too fascinated with Ron to think about being an overprotective father

Hermione had avoided the gory details, but she told them enough for them to be hugely impressed and proud of their daughter and her new boyfriend, the war heroes

But, as parents, they were also worried by the whole deal. Even if Hermione didn’t tell them everything, war was war and there was a small tremor in their daughter’s hand that hadn’t been there before

Sometimes a car would backfire on the street or a neighbour would shout and they would see Ron and Hermione tense up, gripping each other’s hands tighter

Mr Granger changed his mind about Ron and Hermione sleeping in separate rooms because he could see they needed it

"We can’t avoid it anymore," said Hermione. "We need to talk about Hogwarts. You’re not coming back for our final year, are you?"

"No," said Ron. "No, I’m not. Are you?"

"Yes," she said. "I am."

Ron went with Mr and Mrs Granger to see Hermione off at King’s Cross for the final time, and they met up with Harry and the Weasley parents so they could see off Ginny, too

Harry and Ron watched as Ginny and Hermione waved from the departing train

"Merlin, I love her," Ron said

"What?" Harry smiled teasingly. "What was that?"

Ron’s cheeks were red as he realised what he had said out in front of his parents and Hermione’s

But suddenly all he could say was, "I didn’t tell her! I won’t tell her for months!"

Arthur clapped his son’s back. "You know, the train hasn’t completely gone yet.”

Without much thought, Ron ran to catch up with her window and shouted, “Hermione!"

He window opened and her head popped out

"I LOVE YOU!" he bellowed

She smiled so brightly as she called, "I love you, too"

And then the Hogwarts Express disappeared

Hermione flopped back into her seat, a dazed look on her face and Ginny grinned at her

The same grin Harry was giving Ron

Ron was barely listening when his parents invited the Grangers over for tea

Harry joked that he hadn’t looked like that since he accidentally had a love potion in sixth year and asked, "Hermione never slipped you anything this morning, did she?"

Hermione and Ron did their separate things. Hermione took over Hogwarts as Head Girl - naturally - and was treated like a celebrity along with Ginny, Luna and Neville. Ron went with Harry and started his trading as an auror

They wrote each other several times a week about all the updates of their lives, and both saved every letter

Ron kept his letters from Hermione in an old shoe box which he kept under his bunk to look through on particularly difficult training days

Hermione kept hers together with red ribbon tied in a neat bow in her bedside table to read when she missed him most

Ron told her how busy training was and how he couldn’t get away on Halloween to meet her at Hogsmeade

She was upset, but decided to get some of his favourites from Honeydukes to send to him

When she and Ginny went in, though, they found Harry and Ron waiting for them

Ginny and Harry kissed, Ron and Hermione embraced each other and he swung her around

"You’re meant to be at training!"

"We wanted to surprise you!"

"But you said you couldn’t come!"

"Hence the surprise!"

They all hung out together for the most part, but separated for the final hour for some alone time as couples

(So Hermione and Ron could make out out of public view - naturally, it ended up in The Daily Prophet)

"Have you seen the photo they used of us? Ron, it’s pornograhic!"

"I don’t know, I like it”

That Christmas, the Grangers and Harry stayed with the Weasleys as no one wanted to miss another Christmas with their children

Harry waited until Hermione, Ginny and the Grangers were gone to round up the 8 Weasleys

"The thing is," he said. "Well, I know I’m meant to just ask you, Mr Weasley, but, well, you’re all so important to Ginny and to me, so- I- I want to-"

"You want to marry Ginny?" smiled Molly

"If that’s okay with you, yes."

Ron was Harry’s best man while Luna and Hermione shared the role of Maid of Honour

Hermione spoke with Dudley who Harry was now on better terms with, and made him feel a bit more comfortable as she was more used to talking to muggles than some of the wizards who seemed to scare him

She even danced with him as Ron danced with Luna

Luna said, "you have so much love for her in your eyes, perhaps it will be your wedding we’ll be dancing at next"

"Nah, no way, too soon," said Ron, but suddenly he was feeling a bit giddy

As Ginny threw the bouquet, he muttered something and flicked his wand discreetly and the flowers landed in Hermione’s hand

She looked at them in amazement, then to Ron who was watching her lovingly and she waved the flowers at him while she laughed

"What do you say, Ron?" asked Harry. "Are there more wedding bells in the future?"

And as he watched Hermione laughing with Ginny about the flowers, he smiled and said, "I hope so"

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Their Doll 4

Y/n Stark

B.Barnes x Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis:  y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: the avengers find some stuff out about y/n

Warnings: swearing

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

"SO there's some weird HYDRA girl locked and sedated in my basement? Cool, don't want to know." Tony dismissed, not looking up from his white mug as he tipped a generous amping of sugar into his black coffee. He swirled the liquid in the mug and turned around, leaning against the counter as he raised the drink to lips lips and took a sip before sighing intently. Bruce frowned, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Tony, I don't think you get it, I ran a DNA test and-"

"And she's probably some innocent girl that went missing years ago and was never found? I get it, I feel bad for her but at the end of the day she has nothing to do with me." Tony dismissed, pushing away from the counted to deposit his now-empty mug in the sink. He turned the tap on, rinsing out the cup before carelessly placing it on the drying rack.

"Just, please, come and see her. You won't regret it, and if you do - dinner's on me?" Bruce suggest, arms outstretched in welcome. Tony rolled his eyes, before scoffing.

"Yeah, no. I'm good. Catch you in the lab later though?" Tony was quick to deflect, exiting the room with so much as another glance. Bruce's hands feel to his side with a slap as his shoulders sagged in defeat.

...

Bruce nervously paced the lab, desperate to tell someone his horrifying discovery. The click of the door made his head snap up, a smile of relief spreading his on lips at the sight of Nat.

"Nat, finally." He sighed, walking towards the scowling girl.

"What did you need to tell me Bruce? You sounded pretty urgent when you called." She pressed, crossing her arms over her chest and raising a brow. His smile faulted, his gaze dropping to his hands where he fondled with a biro pen.

"I- uh. I made a... discovery about y/n." Bruce confessed, finally meeting Nat's eyes.

"Go on.." Nat prompted. Bruce took a deep breath, chewing on his bottom lip nervously. "Bruce-" she started.

"Y/n isn't entirely human-"

"Well we knew that much."

"It's what she is, that's shocking. Looking threw all her blood tests and whatnot - it's showing she has an ability to manipulate minds when she s-sings. It's like a certain note her voice forms that can control the minds of people around her."

"So what is she?"

"I don't know, there's not really a name-"

"A siren. She's a siren." A third voice joined the room, and both the avengers' heads snapped round to the direction it came from. In the door stood Steve, shoulder leant against the frame and ankles crossed.

"Who's watching y/n?" Nat asked.

"Clint. Anyway, my father - he used to read me a story when I was a kid. The Odyssey, I believe it was called. It was a Greek myth about a bewitching girl who lured saloons in with her voice so she could feed off them." Steve continued, pushing himself off the door frame and walking further into the room.

"There's no way that's real, though." Nat dismissed, frowning heavily at his words.

"No, no. He has a point - I mean, look at Steve. Look at me." Bruce said, gesturing to himself and Steve. "We shouldn't be possible, but science does some crazy things. Y/n was with HYDRA, right?"

"Yes, but-"

"Well, what if they did this to her. We know she was taken when she was young, so what if they did so to experiment on her?"

"I should go talk to her, you know - girl on girl. She seems to like me, maybe she knows what she is and she might open up to me, if I ask nicely." Nat suggests, walking out the room when she was met with no protests from the two men.

"There's something else I should mention." Bruce started fidgeting again, which man Steve's brown knit together.

"What is it, Bruce?" The super-soldier prompted. Bruce continued to fidget, not looking up from him hands as he spoke.

"Are you aware Tony used to have daughter?" Bruce asked sheepishly.

"Tony had a daughter?" Steve said, brows now raised with genuine shock. He knew of Tony's...escapades from before he was with Pepper, but he couldn't see Tony as the type to actually keep a child from just a one-night stand.

"She was adopted, some kid he found on the streets with no parents. So he took her in, raised her and then she just disappeared. Many people have forgotten she existed, and those that remember her are all under the impression that she is dead. I thought so too, until..." Bruce paused, flipping through some papers on his clipboard until he found what he was looking for. "Until this." He finished, handing the board over to Steve.

In Steve's hands was proof that matched y/n's DNA to that of Tony's adopted daughter.

"Well that explains the name, and her hesitation to tell us who she really is." Steve frowned, eyes scanning over the paper repeatedly. Bruce hummed in agreement, taking the clipboard back from Steve when he held it out for Bruce to take. "Do we tell Tony?" Steve asked after a moment.

"He doesn't want to know, I've tried telling him but he doesn't care." Bruce told Steve and Steve pressed his lips together as he thought. "I do think we should wake her up though. If she's Tony's daughter there can't be anything that's more dangerous about her than you expect her attitude." Bruce said and Steve nodded, suppressing a laugh.

"I'll tell Nat to wake her up." Steve said as he exited the lab.

...

The steam from the shower engulfed me, my hands running through my hair and brushing out the tangles lightly. As I scrubbed the shampoo from my scalp, I hummed a small tune - thankful to be somewhere noisy enough that I wouldn't risk affecting anyone with my powers. After waking me up Nat told me to clean up and get changed before handing me a pile of clothes and telling me that she would meet me at my room in half an hour to take me to meet the rest of the team.

Shutting the water off, I slid the glass door open and my feet padded onto the thin bath-mat. The towel wrapped around me as I patted my hair dry with another one, looking over my scarred figure in the large mirror opposite me.

A large scar spanned the width of my stomach, smaller remnants of cuts littering my thighs that were joined by one larger one from where I was once stabbed. Looking at myself over my shoulder, I observed the large scars that spanned over my back, the layers fading at different degrees from their varying ages. The memory of how I got them brought tears to my eyes, which I was quick to blink away and focus back onto what I was doing.

Pulling the large sweatshirt Steve had lent me over my head, I left the large bathroom clad in a pair of leggings and some socks I borrowed from Nat. I brushed my fingers through my wet locks, detangling them. I threw the towel onto the bed in the room I had been assigned and plopped down next to it, taking my time to survey the room I barely got a look of earlier.

The door to the en-suite bathroom I just exited sat on one side of the room, accompanied by a big closet and a dressing table. A chest of draws was propped next to the king sized bed the sat in and the free corner housed a small kitchen. It had a stove, fridge-freezer, sink and a few cabinets. On the side sat a kettle, toaster, blender and some chopping boards.

A sharp knock on the door bought me back to my senses, making me perk up a little at the sound of Nat's voice.

"You feeling okay?" I nodded. "Good, well Steve and Bruce want you to meet them in conference room 4. I'll take you." She quickly added the last part in seeing my scared face.

As we walked down the halls we chatted, talking about our pasts and finding out that we were fairly similar - we were both forced into the bad things we did, we both found a way to redeem ourselves, neither of us have ever had a boyfriend and we both love chicken noodle soup.

"Well, this is it." She announced, pointing at a door to our left. I nodded, going to open the door before pausing and turning around.

"Thank you. For taking me with you, for giving me this chance, for hiding me from HYDRA - thank you, really." I spoke softly, giving her the friendliest smile I could muster.

"No problem. I couldn't live with myself if I knew we could've helped you. Everyone deserves a second chance."

"I genuinely can't thank you enough - you saved me." I said, quickly swiping away the threatening tears with the heels of my hands.

"I was nice meeting you, y/n."

"You too." And with the last words said, I pushed the door open, walking into the room and being instantly greeted by Bruce and Steve.

"Hey, y/n, why don't you take a seat and we'll get the introductions out the way?" Bruce suggested and I nodded shyly. I took a seat next to Steve, who appeared to shuffle slightly away from me but I couldn't be sure.

"So, another midgardian?" a bulky man with shoulder length blonde hair and a red cape clipped to his shoulders broke the silence. He was clearly the God I'd been hearing about - I mean how much more of a costume does he need to look like Thor?

"Yes, we think so." Bruce confirmed. I frowned at this. Midgardian? What the hell was a midgardian?

"We think she's been tampered with, like me," Steve elaborated, "but as far as we know, she is of this earth." Steve spoke and Thor nodded. "We are keeping her safe from HYDRA." Steve said to break the silence as they all stared at me with funny looks. I kept my eyes cast down now, cheeks hot with embarrassment after feeling so many eyes on me at once.

"Does she-" I interjected the second I heard another voice. I stood abruptly, pushing me seat back and wincing at the screeching noise it made before resuming my angry face. I slammed my hand down the table as I stood, catching the attention of everyone sat at the table.

"If even one more of you refers to me as 'she' rather than just fucking talking directly to me I am going to end up sirening one of your asses!" I demanded, seething with anger. A grin broke out on Thor's face.

"Atta girl, I like this one already!" He laughed and I sat down again, smiling contented ay his compliment.

"She's got Tony's patience, all right." Another man remarked with a smirk. Steve simply rolled his eyes as common menus about my attitude were thrown around the room. Finally, someone addressed me. It was a woman with Blonde hair and kind eyes. She looked motherly.

"Hey, I'm pepper." She smiled kindly and I quickly reciprocated it. They went around the table - the man who had commented about my patience was called Clint, the blonde man was was indeed called Thor and obviously I'd already met Bruce and Steve.

"I'm y/n." I returned and she repeated my name in her beautiful voice, almost as if she was testing how I'd felt in her mouth.

"Y/n. A stunning name for a stunning lady." Thor commented, boyish grin still in place and I gave him a sheepish smile.

"Oh, cut it out big guy - you're like, a billion times her age." A voice came from the door and we all turned to find out who it was.

"Tony. I wasn't aware you'd be joining us." Steve said in a monotone voice and Tony gave him a tight smile.

"You don't get everything your way, Capsicle. Now, who's this?" Tony said, stuffing a mouthful of blueberries in his mouth before stuffing the bag of food in his back pocket and motioning to me with a nod.

"Tony, this is y/n," Bruce said moving out the way from where he was standing so Tony could see my face. The man's eyes widened instantly as the recognition sank in. "Y/n Stark."