#i literally stopped breathing and made the decision not to react because I can’t do anything about it anyway but boyyyyyy

[theballadoflucygraybaird]

it really is the tiniest inconvenience that makes me want to kill myself

[amhrosina]

Show Me How Much You Missed Me (Matt Murdock x f!Reader x Frank Castle)

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAG LIST

A/N: This is filthy. Like, FILTHY. I’m ashamed. Brooke, look away!!!! Also, where do we land on the whole cum/come thing??? I tried “come” out in this one, and I can’t decide if I like it spelled this way or not. Let me know (you can send me an anonymous ask if you don’t want to comment that lmfao)!

This can be read separately from Play Time, but it’s a continuation of it, so if you feel like it, read both!

(Part 1)

request: poly!mattfrank when reader finally uses their safeword because they were being to rough, and that practically kills them because of the guilt they feel, to the point where they don't touch reader for almost a week

Summary: You get overwhelmed during playtime and use your safe word, spurring a tense few days as you, Frank, and Matt try to figure out how to interact with each other afterwards.

(Warnings: oh god so much smut, oral (fem & male receiving), p in v penetration, reader gets overwhelmed during playtime, cursing, somewhat dom!Frank & dom!Matt, reader & matt & frank go to paris, it’s literally all smut like don’t read past this line if you don’t want to read the smuttiest smut I’ve ever written, a little angst I guess, I probably missed a warning or two)

It had been a bad week, the worst week, if you really thought about it. Through no fault of your own, important packages had been mixed up at work, causing your boss to lose his shit on the only person within yelling distance, aka: you. Then, you’d managed to spill coffee all over your dress, which made you inexplicably late the next morning. And if that weren’t enough, you’d dropped your phone in your mug of tea today and hadn’t been able to turn it on since then.

All you wanted to do was relax and unwind when you got home from what felt like the longest week of your life. Frank and Matt had noticed your growing tension, but neither had mentioned anything to you about it. You always came to them with problems when you were ready and had sorted through your feelings, so they offered silent support while they waited for you to work through it in your head.

When Friday night finally came around, all you’d wanted was some time away from responsibility. You wanted to give yourself fully to your boys, let them make the decisions for you, and let them take care of you until you forgot about the shitty week you’d had.

That was how you ended up in your current position: wrists tied to the headboard behind you, blindfolded, and overwhelmed with pleasure. Frank was stationed at the end of the bed, holding your hips up so he could properly pound into you. Matt was by your side, fingers working your clit so hard you could barely breathe. Everything was going to plan, everything was working, until it wasn’t.

“Our pretty girl,” Matt coed in your ear, “So wet for us.”

Matt’s hand came down in a harsh slap on your pussy. You jolted forward at the unexpected contact, panting. Frank hoisted your hips up further, slamming into you at an untethered pace. Tears pricked your eyes, and you couldn’t quite figure out if they were out of pleasure or pain. You didn’t know how to feel.

On the one hand, you had asked for this, and Matt and Frank were doing exactly what you’d asked them to do, but now you were so far in your own head about what a shitty week you’d had that you couldn’t find the pleasure you’d been searching for earlier. And yet, you couldn’t open your mouth and ask them to stop. You’d never used your safe word before, and you weren’t sure how they’d react if you tried. Would they be upset? Would they be angry?

You must’ve stiffened, because Matt was no longer whispering in your ear, nor was he touching you. Frank had paused his movement too, and you could only guess that he and Matt were communicating silently, the way they always did when it came to you.

“Kitten,” Matt murmured, “Are you okay?”

A rush of tears welled in your eyes, and your bottom lip began to wobble in anticipation of the sob crawling up your throat.

“Satin.” You mumbled, finally allowing yourself to express the pent-up emotions you’d been harboring all week. Tears stained the blindfold, still covering your eyes, and you turned your face away from the both of them, crying into the pillow next to your head.

Frank and Matt moved at an unrivaled pace. Matt was quick to untie your wrists from the headboard, while Frank pulled out of you and removed your blindfold. It all happened very quickly, and suddenly they were on either side of you, pulling you into a comforting hold.

“I’m sorry.” You sobbed, resting your forehead on Frank’s chest.

“Don’t be sorry, sweet girl. Did we hurt you?” Frank asked, stroking your hair. Matt was pressed against your back, arms circled around you in a firm hold. You were between your two boys, safe and loved.

You shook your head, sniffling. “No, I’m just a mess.”

“You’re not a mess, sweetheart.” Matt corrected, nuzzling into your back.

You didn’t respond, too caught up in your head to reveal the reason you were so emotional, and eventually, you fell asleep, wrapped in the arms of the only two men you’d ever be comfortable enough to love.

-

It was days later when you realized there might be a problem. All weekend, Matt and Frank had barely touched you, the only contact between the three of you being when you first awoke and had managed to tangle yourself in their arms. Other than that, they were overly cautious around you, almost like they were walking on eggshells.

When you’d tried to initiate contact, one or both of them would come up with a reason they couldn’t stay for long. Late night patrols and client meetings cropped up randomly, and at the most inconvenient times, like when you were minutes away from unbuckling Matt’s pants and putting your mouth on him. The excuses were becoming less and less believable, and you were growing more frustrated by the hour.

You’d finally had enough on Wednesday evening. You were currently stationed in front of the door, refusing to move out of Matt’s way as he tried to rush out of the house again. Frank was watching this interaction from the hallway, nervously wringing his hands as you stood your ground.

“You are not leaving, Matthew.”

“Sweetheart, I have an important meeting with a client tomorrow. I have to brush up on the case against them.”

“You have all your work stuff here." You glanced at his briefcase sitting on the coffee table. “Why do you keep leaving?”

“I’m just busy at work, Kitten.”

“No.” You shook your head, glancing at Frank for help. Tears threatened to spill, and you had to gulp down your emotions before you continued. “No, something’s up. Why haven’t either of you touched me since Friday? I’ve tried and both of you keep shutting me down. Are you angry with me?”

“No, sweetheart.” Frank pushed himself off the wall, moving toward you and Matt. “No, there’s nothing to be angry about. I promise.”

“Well then why are you guys acting like this?” Your hands shook with anger and confusion. Frank and Matt were both hands-on kind of guys, but they hadn’t so much as laid a hand on you in days.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart.” Matt mumbled, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“We didn’t want to hurt you again, that’s all.” Frank revealed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hurt me?” Your brow furrowed, and suddenly their odd behavior over the past few days made total sense to you. “You thought you hurt me on Friday? When I said the safe word?”

“Why else would you say the safe word?” The confusion on Frank’s face was clear, and you were overwhelmed with a sense of relief. They still loved you, and all three of you were idiots. You shook your head, rubbing your face with your hands.

“I was just overwhelmed. I had a bad week last week, and I couldn’t focus, and I just needed a hug and a second to think through my feelings, but you didn’t hurt me. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Matt asked

“Completely. Is that why you guys won’t touch me? Because you thought you hurt me?”

“We didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Frank said, shyly placing his hand on your lower back.

“That’s not possible.” You grinned, unable to hide your giggle at how ridiculous the entire affair was. “Will someone please touch me now?”

Matt grunted, cupping your jaw and pulling your lips against his. It was a vicious kiss, full of longing and regret, but you opened yourself to him completely. You felt it in your bones – your soul reached out to them in desire, longing to feel loved again. You ripped your mouth away from Matt’s and turned to Frank, kissing him with equal ferocity.

Matt followed your movements, pressing himself into your back as he kissed your neck. Frank wrapped one hand around your waist and the other around Matt’s shoulder, pulling both of you toward him with a lustful grunt.

“You wanna play, Kitten?” Frank smiled into the kiss as Matt taunted you.

“Yes. Show me how much you missed me.” You mumbled, reaching for Frank’s belt buckle.

“Gentle or rough, sweet girl?”

“I don’t want to be able to walk for a week.”

Matt groaned into your neck, all too eager to oblige you. Frank was already working on pulling your shirt over your head, and you shimmied out of your pants so fast that you almost lost your balance in the process. Frank chuckled, hoisting you into the air so that you could wrap your legs around him.

As he walked toward the bedroom that the three of you shared, you made sure to grab onto the collar of Matt’s shirt and tug him along. He would’ve followed you anyway, but you wanted to make sure he knew how much you wanted him there. He was always the more sensitive one when it came to upsetting you.

Frank set your legs down softly on the bedroom floor, and you immediately dropped to your knees in front of him.

“Can I taste you?” you asked, blinking up at Frank with an innocent smile on your face. It took everything Frank had not to drop to his knees and join you on the floor. He’d do anything for you, but when you had that look in your eyes, he’d be content with burning the world if that’s what would make you happy.

“And you?” you asked, placing your hand on Matt’s leg as he moved past you.

“We’re supposed to be making you feel good, Kitten.” Matt replied, smirk on his face.

“I want to make you feel good, too.” You mumbled, looking back and forth between them.

Matt’s smirk grew as he bent down, placing his fingers below your jaw and tugging upwards to pull you off your knees. Frank grunted in disapproval, but Matt clicked his tongue before Frank could say anything. Matt’s smirk told you he had a plan that would please everyone.

“Hands and knees. On the bed.” Matt placed his hands in his pockets in a casual gesture. You tried to keep yourself from drooling at how attractive he always managed to be, even when he wasn’t trying.

“Now, Kitten.” he urged, impatient as ever.

You lurched forward, eager to please him, and jumped on the bed, pulling your clothes off in the process.  Matt pulled Frank in front of you by his belt, and you drooled at the contact. They didn’t always give a lot of attention to each other in the bedroom, but when they did, you melted inside.

Matt made his way behind you, walking at a seductively slow pace. Your mouth watered as Frank unbuckled his belt, pulling out his hard length and pumping it a few times. You leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the tip, which earned you a stunted groan. As you wrapped your lips around Frank’s cock, Matt’s hand made contact with your ass. You moaned, pushing your head further down Frank’s length. Matt’s fingers drew a trail through your folds, and the sound of his breath sucking in as you soaked his fingers was enough to fuel your ego for a month.

“Matty.” You whined, arching your back further. “Touch me, please.”

“Can I taste you?” He asked, and you physically felt yourself flood with desire. His raspy tone, a steady reminder that you’d invited the Devil to share your bed, sent a rhythmic pounding to your core.

“Please.” You moaned, wrapping your lips around Frank’s length again.

Matt didn’t hold back. He swiped his tongue up your folds, spurring an unholy moan from you.

“Sweet.” Matt mumbled, before attacking your clit with his tongue.

It was a flurry of grunts and moans, and you were so worked up from not getting any attention over the past few days that your orgasm was already fast approaching. Matt was a master with his tongue, and your legs began to shake within seconds of him licking your cunt from top to bottom.

Frank pulled your hair behind your head, lightly thrusting into your mouth. You took him deeper, eyes watering, and when he finally thrusted into your throat, you couldn’t stop yourself from coming all over Matt’s tongue. It hit you like a ton of bricks, knocking the wind out of you while also lifting you higher than you’d been in weeks. You grunted, moaned, and groaned as Matt continued licking at your cunt, content to stay in that exact position until he lapped up every drop of your orgasm.

When he finally pulled away, you moaned in short-lived relief. Matt loved to overstimulate you, but what you really wanted was for him to fuck the life out of you. Matt ran his hands over your ass, gripping the skin so hard you were sure there would be bruises the next day. The jingle of his belt buckle hitting the ground made your toes curl, and desire ran through you so fast that you took Frank as deep as you could manage.

Frank grunted, pleased with your neediness, and began thrusting harder into your mouth. Matt lined himself up with your entrance, swiping his length through your folds for good measure. You couldn’t take the anticipation any longer, so you arched your back even further, whining so that Matt could hear how bad you wanted him.

“You’re doing so good, Kitten.” Frank murmured, tightening his hold on your hair. “Isn’t she doing so good, Red?”

Matt ran a hand down your spine, sending shivers throughout your body.

“She’s perfect.” Matt panted before pushing himself inside you.

Everything was still for a moment as you adjusted to Matt’s length in you. He was big, and you hadn’t been thoroughly fucked in days, so the pressure was intense for a moment. When you finally resumed bobbing your head up and down Frank’s cock, Matt began thrusting into you.

He started slow, matching Frank’s soft thrusts until he knew you were okay. You pushed back against him, asking him to go faster, and he eagerly obliged. Matt pounded into you, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body, while Frank thrusted into your mouth at the same speed. You were overwhelmed with pleasure and so turned on that it didn’t surprise you when you could feel the beginning of another orgasm forming in your core.

“You ‘gonna come, Kitten?” Frank asked, pulling your hair back so that you could look in his eyes. You nodded bashfully, cheeks growing warm at the attention.

“Not yet, Kitten.” Matt murmured, thrusting so deep inside of you that you swore you saw stars.

You whined as you tried to stave off your orgasm. You didn’t think they would punish you if you came too early tonight, but you didn’t want to take that chance. For once, your bratty alter-ego was happy to remain on the sidelines. They pounded into you from both sides, and your moans grew louder as you continued to try and ignore the pounding in your core.

“C’mon, Red. Let her come.”

Frank grinned as Matt sighed and leaned closer to you. He wrapped his arm around your waist, sliding his fingers across your pussy until he landed on your clit. A spark of unbridled need flowed through you, and as soon as he started moving his fingers, you were on the verge of exploding.

“Come, Kitten.” Matt commanded. And you did.

You sagged forward, dropping Frank’s length from your mouth as you let out a sinful moan into the mattress. Your entire body tensed as the waves of your orgasm crashed through you, and you couldn’t help the tears that fell down your cheeks as Matt continued to pound into you.

When you could finally breathe again, Matt pulled you up against his chest and wrapped his hand around your throat. You rested your head on his shoulder as his sloppily thrusted into you. His breath hitched, and you knew he was seconds away from coming.

“Where do you want me to come, Kitten?”

 “I want you to fill me up, Matty. I want both of you to.” You panted.

Matt grunted, then let out a stunted moan as he came in you. The hand around your throat tightened, and Matt pressed his forehead into your shoulder as he panted. You heaved a breathy sigh, and tried to wilt against Matt, but Frank had other ideas.

Frank hoisted you in the air, flipping you over and dropping you on the bed on your back. Matt flopped down next to you, taking your chin in his hand and bringing his lips to yours in a sweet, apologetic kiss. Matt still felt bad about essentially ignoring you for days. He always sat in his guilt for longer than most, but you and Frank didn’t mind coaxing him out of his shell when he needed it. You’d no doubt have to remind him later that he had nothing to feel guilty about.

“Hold on to somethin’, Kitten.” Frank grumbled, wrapping his arms around your thighs and roughly pulling you toward him.

Frank slammed into you, spurring a loud moan out of you. He pounded into you at an animalistic pace, and the only thing that kept you from flying off the bed was Matt’s grip on your waist. Matt gave his attention to your chest and nipples, flicking his tongue across the nubs as you cried out in ecstasy. The room became a multitude of sounds – skin slapping skin, whining moans, and Frank’s muted grunts as he ruined you.

When Matt dropped his hand to your clit, you lost all sense of composure. You lurched forward, allowing your third orgasm to crash over you. You became a delirious hot mess, so worn out and happy that you barely registered Frank coming in you soon after.

Frank slumped down next to you, breathing hard into the mattress as the three of you came down from your highs. When your heartrate finally returned to normal and you felt like you could breathe again, you leaned over Frank, pulling a large blanket off the end of the bed and spreading it out over the three of you. You laid back, pulling both of the boys’ heads into your chest.

“I love you guys.” You murmured, kissing both of them on the head.

“We love you, sweetheart.” Frank said, still panting.

“The next time I use the safe word, you guys can’t freak out like this, okay? I trust both of you to take care of me. I just needed a second to think.”

“Okay.” The two men grumbled, already half asleep from the happenings of the evening. You snuggled into Matt’s chest, pulling Frank’s arms around you as you moved. You took a deep breath, so content to stay in this position with your boys forever. If you asked, they’d probably figure out a way to make it work. They’d do anything for you, and that is exactly the way you like it.

Tag List:

@alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @deliciousfestsalad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @22carolina08 @definitelynotsugar @casualchaoticdevil @xleiaorgana @mukbee @dilfs5678 @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @mymamalife @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @fightmilk @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @merleisapartygod @babyslyth @legocity2 @quackson03 @certifiedhunter @dumb-fawkin-bitch @americaarse @thatgirljayy @hiyabyeyababy @theesexystallion @soft-emo-enby @purple-amaranthe @alina02 @thedevilwearsblack @violet-19999 @shoxji @layazul @lazyxsquirrel @honeysucklepotter @m0nster-fvcker @matthewmurdockswhore @moxkindagirl @megmastersgf

[n1ghtm4r3-p01s0n]

Lemme go on a tangent real quick;

I fucking hate that the movies can’t dare show Carrie being fat when she was in the book.

That was a CRUCIAL decision by King. As someone who was mocked and bullied for being fat, learning Carrie was too practically changed how I viewed the story. Nearly everything in that story was my lived experience.

Over-religious helicopter parent who accused their own child of devil worship for just breathing? Check. Fat girl being mocked and belittled and pitied by people who see her as ugly because she is fat and stupid because she is fat? Check.

Even at the end, Carrie doesn’t die in peace. People write “Carrie White burns in Hell” on her grave. This isn’t just bullying; that’s full fucking malice. And making Carrie a conventionally attractive girl was one of the worst decisions horror movies has ever made. (Not to diss any of the performances though; they literally and metaphorically killed.) Carrie is SUPPOSED to be outside of the societal conventions of normal and attractive.

Taking that away doesn’t make anyone stop and think about their actions. About the way they talk about themselves and others when they gain a few pounds. About the way they react to themselves or another getting some kind of acne or cyst or whatever else. About the way they treat themselves or another for getting injured, may it be a broken bone or a third degree burn. About the way speaking down about one’s appearance is shaming an entire heritage, simply cause that heritage lead to something considered at this moment in time as “unattractive”. About how cruel it is to put beauty and intelligence on the same pedestal, saying anyone who isn’t conventionally pretty isn’t smart when that is far from the fucking case.

This art? That’s what Carrie should’ve looked like the whole fucking time. Acne, eyebags, fat - a normal fucking teenager. Cause that’s the cruelest part of her ordeal; nothing she did at any point justified the cruelty she was forced to endure. Her not knowing about periods isn’t a justification for being belittled when she’s practically naked in the girls locker, or having blood poured all over her on prom night.

Hollywood; if you remake Carrie again, DO IT RIGHT. Show us a Carrie who looks like a normal teenager. Show us a Carrie who doesn’t fit the mould of “model perfect blonde popular high school girl”. Show us a Carrie who stands out from the rest of the student body. That was the entire point. The point of the story is we learn to empathise with Carrie and really hope she can overcome it, hearts breaking as she snaps and becomes the monster she was forced to be. The monster we force ourselves or someone else to be.

Rant over.

Novel carrie

[icantspeakspanish]

Obey Me! Brothers react to you behaving like an older, caring but short tempered sibling

a/n: i have no idea how thisll do because for some reason i only post haikyuu content on here🧑‍🦯 || i had to rewrite this entire thing because tumblr just decided to crash outta nowhere😐

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor

masterlist.

Lucifer

he was pretty much the first one to notice how you treated him he brothers and also like, but he didn’t say anything

you weren’t harming or anything, so lucifer’s fine with it

UNTIL you notice how much he overworks himself sometimes

that’s when he’s getting bothered😭

you can’t really tell a demon to go to fucking sleep you tried, it didn’t work🙄

so you’ve come to the decision that it’d be best if you’d stick around in his room until he goes to sleep

why this would change anything you may ask?😟

because you’re annoying the living shit outta him as you should

putting this aside, y’all also often get bothered by the other ones behavior

cuz oldest sibling stuff, the usual shit

BUT as soon as you guys get over these „differences“, you become the most horrific duo in hell

GET IT SIS

that also goes for lucifer’s brothers

when someone messes something up, they’ll feel the DOUBLE pack of sibling wrath

that does not mean that y’all wouldn’t have the others back when they need you

Mammon

swears you’re the best thing that has ever happened to the devildom

all because one time, mammon really wanted something but didn’t have enough money anymore

so youre like:“how much is it?“

and him, not expecting you to actually get that for him, just answering casually

till you wipe out your money and give it to him💀

„wait, are you serious???“

„yeah“

you ain’t even looking at him🥲

as you may have expected, he’ll use that more often now😒

remember how he swore that you’re the best thing that has ever happened to the devildom??

takes everything back as soon as he sees ya angry

Never stopped breathing so fast after hearing „god fucking dang it, Mammon!!“ shout through the entire house

And he can’t lie to you 🥱

Sometimes, the teasing and blaming by his siblings gets the best of him

You SENSE it immediately when something shifts in mammon so you’re quick to make the others stop by either threatening to embarrass them or really just yell the SHIT out of them

It works 😍🤞🏻

And you comfort him too😠

Leviathan

Do i even need to start

Homeboy BARRICADES himself in his room sometimes

🥱🚪 <- you at his door on your nightly round, throwing water and food into his room

Reminding him to stay fucking hydrated, eat his fucking food you protected with your life to not let beelzebub get it

AND OPEN THE FUCKING WINDOW??

He thinks you’re a good listener

And you show interest in his hobbys even though you maybe don’t understand a word

He really appreciates you for violently taking care of him🥰

Still respects you☝🏻

Fucking joking, Levi is terrified of you when you loose your shit

Lovely☺️

Satan

Underestimates you SO HARD BRO

Like mammons like „and then, they yelled at me…“, and he’s like:“Y/n is a human. You can snap their neck, why are you terrified?“

Yeah bitch you tHOUGhT🖕🏻

Views you completely different after you made a demon feel bad by yelling💀

„yeah its basically— did you just grump at me? What are you, a fucking dog??“

„Y/n, that is a demon.“

„so??? no one gonna raise their voice at me.“

Mama ain’t raised no bitch

Thats how he respected you

Listen.

Satan starts loving you after you get him a cat😭

He goes 🥺

„Really????“

You’re also honest with him when you think he’s either in the wrong or right with Lucifer

Will rather listen to you JUST TO PISS LUCIFER OFF LMAOOOO

Asmodeus

HES AMAZING FR

He sees you having a stressed skin and assumes its because you’ve been kept awake day n night because of his brothers

And says you’re very welcome for a skincare night😩😭

I LITERALLY CAN NOT

talking bout love interests all the WAAAAAY

Like you guys are besties, exchanging tea, gossiping n all😭

Will hide behind you when Lucifer gets angry at him because he knows you snap back💀

When something happens, his eyes go immediately to you checking if you jus saw that too HAHAHAHAH

I LOVE ASMO HEY

Will threaten anyone, even in the human world, who’s in question to date you if they break your heart😚

Beelzebub

🥺…

HES SO ADORABLE JEPCJKNWEJNFPIWEJNCF

Beel tries his best to avoid making you angry

And when you’re on your fifth way to the kitchen at 2 AM to get lucifer his fifth glass of milk to fall asleep

You see him sitting there like ☹️

„Hey Beel, what’s wrong?“

„Im hungry.“

You look around a bit confused, then get an idea

„I can bake you a cake if you go back to sleep then?“

„REALLY😲“

So there you go

Screw Lucifer’s glass, he asleep now anyway😠

Some low demon was mean to him?

You’re bout to go feral

One of his brothers picked on him eating

The house is on fire

everything for this men����✌🏻

Belphegor

….😄🔪

THE FUCKING BRAT

ITS ALWAYS THE YOUNGEST SIBLING

Belphie LOVES making you angry

Belphie HATES you treating him like a fucking child and all of his words are cries😭

Like he’s trying to provocate you and you look deadass at him and go

„You’re done?😐“

You both try to not smack each other for beels sake <3

[chiruba]

JJK BOYS' REACTING TO S/O IN A BUNNY OUTFIT !

req. hiii bestie !! i can smell potential in this account, so i'm here for a request ! jjk boys' reaction to their s/o wearing a bunny girl/boy outfit (they lost a bet) ?? maybe with... megumi, inumaki and gojo ?? thank you and i give you all my love and support for your work!!!❤️❤️️

an. HII BESTIE!! i loved this req omg and thank u for supporting me!! hope i did this req justice <3

ft. gojo, fushiguro, inumaki x fem!reader

wc. 1.5k

genre. fluff

tw. a lil suggestive but like 99% sfw

► MASTERLIST ► TAGLIST ►

GOJO SATORU ►

— this mf would be so cocky and teasing about it

— definitely the type to whistle and wiggle his eyebrows

— he's probably the one that made the bet with you

— and of course he made it knowing he'd win

"satoru!" you whine from behind the closed bathroom door, thoroughly embarrassed. "are you kidding? i'm not wearing this!" well, to be fair, you were already wearing it, but coming out of your sacred space the bathroom in it? absolutely not.

"come on!" you heard him say, his tone clearly teasing and excited. "you lost the bet, after all!"

"and you cheated to win!"

"baby-"

"no."

gojo let out a dramatic sigh, and you could practically imagine him pressing an exaggerated hand to his heart. "fine!" he said, letting out another sigh, "i guess our bets mean nothing to you."

"it's a stupid bet, satoru-"

"i understand, don't worry." you groaned, rolling your eyes at your boyfriend's usual childish antics. you could hear him shuffling from the other side of the door, "i'll just go to bed." you let a sigh, glancing to the large mirror to your right, your reflection staring back at you. you felt your face get hot at the thought of showing this to gojo. i mean, you could use it to try and get back at your boyfriend for all the times he'd teased you, and maybe even fluster him a bit? impossible, but a girl can dream.

"...fine." you grumble so quietly you're unsure if he even heard it - until you hear the giddy squeal come out of your boyfriend's mouth from the other side of the door, catching you so off guard that you can't help but let out a snort. before you even have a chance to do so yourself, gojo swings open the door and catches you as you stumble out.

he grins at you cheekily, one eyebrow raised and a low whistle sounding from his lips. "you were already wearing it?" he asks, and before you can respond a bright light flashes in your eye, and you realise he's taking pictures.

"satoru!" you go to cover your head, immediately regretting your decision. "i'm changing back right now!" you exclaim and try to rush back into the bathroom, only to be stopped by him pulling you back gently, his chest colliding with your body.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI ►

— BLUSHY BABY!

— he'd be so embarrassed even looking at you LOL

— doesn't mean he won't look though

— would probably be like "what are you doing?" all grumbly and annoyed

— but his eyes stay trained on you and the outfit

you didn't think last week that your saturday night would be spent waiting on your boyfriend's bed, dressed head to toe in a bunny girl outfit while you waited for him to get done showering. it originally began when nobara showed you a funny tiktok of someone else pranking their significant other while they were dressed in a bunny outfit, and you'd both joked about doing it to your respective significant others. you had teased nobara, doubting that maki would be flustered even by such an outfit, which then led her to tease you about how fushiguro wouldn't even bat an eye at it. and, well, here you are.

you want to blame nobara for this entire fiasco, but you can't help the scratch of curiosity you yourself have about your antisocial boyfriend's reaction. if you're being entirely honest, the thought of making him flustered makes you a bit giddy. you decide to wrap yourself in his bed covers, seeing that fushiguro's designated showering time is ending soon, and then duck your head under the covers like a child hiding from a monster. the door lock clicks, and you hear the familiar sound of the sliding door.

"what are you doing?" fushiguro asks, closing the door behind him as he makes his way over to the mound on his bed. you giggle and hug the covers closer.

"take a guess," you tease, and you were sure if you could see him he'd be rolling his eyes.

"i don't know," he responded bluntly, "are you cold? i'll warm you up." you could hear the slight grumble in his voice at the last part, clearly still getting used to voicing his affections. it made your heart flutter a little, and you decided to stop teasing, mostly because it was the first time today you'd be able to see your boyfriend's face. you quickly pulled the covers back, sitting up on his bed as you stared up at fushiguro with an innocent grin.

"wha?!-" fushiguro spluttered, pink immediately beginning to stain his cheeks. his mouth hang open as he stared at you, eyes rapidly glancing around your outfit. "what are you doing?" he asked, gulping obviously after his sentence.

"what do ya think?" you teasingly asked, deciding to stand up and give a quick spin around, only flustering fushiguro further. "maybe this should be my halloween outfit? oh, we could even match! you could be a magician-" fushiguro let out a noise similar to a growl, and the next thing you knew, you were back in his bed, covers one again wrapped around your body like a cloak.

"no." he said plainly, and you had to hold back your laughter.

"no? no what, love?" he scrunched up his face at the nickname, but you could tell he liked it just by the simple fact that he'd never told you to stop. your teasing smile dropped when he leaned in closer, his breath ghosting on your ear as he whispered,

"i wanna be the only one to see you that way."

INUMAKI TOGE ►

— he got so flustered at first omg

— and said the one word that came to his mind - "wow."

— inumaki has such great control when it comes to his speech, he already knew it would be a safe word

— what he doesn't have great self-control over is, honestly, his love for you

— inumaki's just so amazed at how you're his s/o

— after he gets over his initial flustered reaction, he tackles you in affection <3

you were sure that you've never been more embarrassed in your life than now. nobara had suggested the grand idea of playing 'truth or dare' for girls' night, and sadly, your turn had ended up in maki's hands. you thought that maki couldn't come up with anything too bad, especially not this late at night, and so you went with the dare.

...and now here you are, dressed in a bunny girl outfit, standing in the middle of your boyfriend, inumaki toge's, room. the outfit was bought last halloween as a complete joke between the three of you, and you had completely forgotten about it afterwards, keeping it in the deepest part of your closet. how had maki even come up with that on the spot? damn her brains. your phone pinged, vibrating on inumaki's desk where you had put it, and you glanced over to see nobara's text;

'he's coming!!'

the simple message made your heart pound, your head frantically snapping back to look at the door as you waited for your boyfriend to come through. you held your breath when you heard a key being inserted into the door, and a small noise of surprise when inumaki realised the door wasn't locked. he quickly understood that you were most likely in his room.

"kombu-" inumaki froze, quite literally froze. it reminded you of the times he'd unzipped his collar and whispered the words "don't move,", his enemies bodies going rigid just as his just did.

you began to speak, and then realised, what the fuck were you meant to say in this situation? you'd been so focused on when inumaki would come through the door, you hadn't even thought about what to say when he did. you quite literally felt the way your heart fluttered when you heard inumaki let out a quiet breath, and you heard him whisper,

"wow."

it was already rare to hear your boyfriend's soft voice, even when he was simply speaking in onigiri ingredients, and you were shocked that you had caused this much of a reaction from him.

inumaki finally took back control of his body as he dropped the plastic white bag full of late-night snacks he was out getting, quickly shutting the door behind him and rushing over to you. his arms snaked around your waist, and you stumbled when he pulled you from the middle of his room to his bed.

"toge!" you yelled, arms wrapping around him automatically. you giggled when he began bombarding you in kisses, kissing you on the tip of your nose, the corners of your mouth and continually along your jaw, each a sweet peck full of affection that was more than enough to convey inumaki's feelings. "toge," you whined, now lowering your voice, "maki and nobara are probably right outside the door!" inumaki continues to hold you close while he reaches into his shorts pockets, pulling out his phone and typing a quick message, still giving you sweet pecks as you read his text.

'too bad. ur mine now <3'

ill give u a kiss goodnight if u reblog <3 

©  2021 sinrinyoku — please do not repost, translate, modify or plagiarize my work! i will beat the shit out of u (maybe)

[msmarvelwrites]

For Old Times' Sake

Summary: “Years you had craved to hear your name spoken from his lips. Countless nights, forcing yourself to remember how it fell from his tongue,”

Pairing: TFATWS Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Explicit sexual content, Vaginal penetration, fingering, Choking, Bucky with the filthy words, mutual pining.

Word Count: 2.8K

Authors Note: WOW! It has literally been a hot minute hasn't it? I cant say that I’m not a little excited about this 3rd lock-down in Ontario because it means I can actually find time to write. I’m sorry it’s been so long, babes. Anyways, enjoy! (I’m actually the worst and it’s been so long since I’ve done this!) The Biggest Thank You to @sweeterthanthis for literally cheering me on the entire time. This was such garbage before you came along 😂 I had so much fun with this one babe 💕 thank you for all you do ✨

The wind whipped against your face, bruising your skin with it’s callousness. Though the unwelcomed lash was nothing compared to what was to come. Or who, for that matter. 

It had been longer than you cared to admit. The dodged calls hanging at the bottom of the icon on your phone serving as a cruel reminder of how cold you had been. Of course, it was never in your job description to take care of Bucky after Steve left— but there was an implication that made you run for the hills. 

You couldn't do anything for him - give him anything. The last five years had consisted of running and trying to start over. 

Besides, after the Accords, in the government's eyes you were just as fucked as Hydra. An ally turned fugitive the moment you’d chosen your side in that airport. You’d fight with yourself most nights that you decided with your head, but your first evening with a man who had bruised your lips with promises of what would come may have had more pull than anything else. 

The same man that had called you every week for the past six months… The same man you had spent countless nights with, years of your life you would never be able to scrub away, no matter how hard you tried. 

You had watched from afar as half of the world returned, their loved ones welcoming them home with teary eyes and broken hearts. You watched as he came home. His eyes, always scanning the crowds waiting for you. Waiting to see your face. 

It made all of this so, so much worse. This was definitely not the homecoming you could have hoped for. 

“We’re nearing the drop.” Your comm’s rang with a woman's voice who had helped smuggle you onto the craft. You weren’t exactly welcome in europe at the moment- or anywhere for that matter. The government did not take lightly to your’s and Sharon’s betrayal. You’d think that after everything the world had seen they would be a little more forgiving, but you couldn't exactly blame them for their trust issues either. 

You could, however, blame yourself. 

As soon as your feet hit the ground you were off. The distress call had come from Sam earlier that evening and now with the sun setting you could only hope you weren't too late. You tried to push the man who had haunted your thoughts for the past few years out of your head, desperate to focus on the task at hand. 

Bullets exploded through the air, a warning as you were approaching the large shipping container unit. Your comms went static as they began to connect with Sam’s, his voice ringing through your ears as—

“Sam, a little help here!” 

His voice stopped you dead in your tracks. 

“I’m on my way - called in some back up.” Sam grunted as the sound of strangled yelps echoed around you. 

“Back up? Who do we know that-” Bucky’s words were cut short as he let out a growl, the sound of his vibranium arm whirling in the background. 

You rushed in without a second thought, the sound of his pain too raw as it ripped through your chest. Before you could assess the danger, you charged forward, hurling yourself at a large man pointing his gun right at- 

With a loud thud, the man hit the ground. Your combat boot, heavy on his throat until he went still, and with it came silence. It was deafening despite the explosive gunfire around you. 

“Y/n?” 

Your name ripped through the air, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze. Back turned and body rigid, you were frozen in place. Years you had craved to hear your name spoken from his lips. Countless nights, forcing yourself to remember how it fell from his tongue, soft and get so personal. Like no one had spoken it before. 

“Y/n, what are you-”

Sam's voice cut the newly cropped brunettes words off,  “I got two coming in on your left, Buck. Oh- and welcome back, Y/L/N.” 

You smiled sheepishly at Bucky, pulling your gun from its holster and flicking the safety off as you closed your distance with him. Despite the aggravation apparent on his face, a broken smile seemed to be pulling at the corners of his lips. 

“Here we go again, huh?”  You chimed, your eyes locking with his just as all hell broke loose. 

The trip back to Sam and Bucky’s base was one filled with uncomfortable silence, and a tension that had your blood running cold. 

Once the adrenaline of the fight had worn off and you were left face to face with Bucky Barnes, the guilt began to creep in. 

“So…” Sam started from the backseat of the beat-up truck, the suddenness of his words startling both you and Bucky for a moment. “Long time no see.” 

The scoff that left Bucky’s lips wasn't as subtle as you imagined he meant it to be. You tried not to let it bother you; in fact, you had prepared for this. How he might react when you finally returned home. What you weren't prepared for, however, was how indescribably gutted you would feel to watch him - eyes trained to the road ahead - as he gritted his teeth at your proximity. 

To say that yours and Bucky’s relationship before the snap was easy would be incredibly delusional. It was messy and at it’s best dysfunctional. But for whatever reason, the two of you looked beyond that. He saw through you like no one ever had and before you knew it, the two of you were glued at the hip. It didn't make sense, but no questions were ever asked. 

You just fit. 

And of course there was the sex. Good god, you could feel your thighs clenching at the thought. 

The way’s Bucky knew how to take you apart, with an accuracy that only he had. How he had your toes curling and body vibrating from the flick of his tongue. How he would have you screaming the most filthy things for him, all while begging to never ever—

“Y/n?” 

Sam’s voice was like an ice bath. Your name yanking you back into the present and the question at hand. What was the question again? You couldn't think straight. Not when Bucky was staring at you the way he was, one brow cocked and that same familiar smirk plastered on his lips. If you didn't know any better, you’d think he could read your thoughts. 

“Sorry- I… I was…” You couldn't seem to bring yourself back to this realm, too lost in the Super Soldier’s stormy eyes to remember what exactly you were trying to say. 

“He asked you where you’ve been, Y/n.” Bucky spoke your name like it was a curse, laced with razor sharp ache and pain. His eyes told a different story though. The way he looked at you; the same way he always did. 

With a warmth that only he had for you. It made you shiver. 

“Running, mostly.” You started, your body physically breaking your gaze with Bucky. It was too much, watching him glare down at you. And maybe you deserved it. 

“And you never thought to, I don't know, call me?” Bucky’s words were spiteful, oozing with a disdain that was beginning to wear down your patience. 

“It wasn't like that, Buck-”

“You can’t call me that anymore.” He snapped, his eyes trained on the road. Your gaze snapped to him, brow arched as you all but scoffed at him. 

“Oh, I can't?” You chuckled, but the sound came out flat. He had every right to ask you where you've been. Hell, get angry if he wanted. But the way his words seeped with disgust made your blood boil. 

“Okay, okay guys. Let’s all take a breath and just—”

“Shut up, Sam.” You both snarled, causing Sam to roll his eyes as Bucky pulled into a long winding driveway with a small log cabin sat at the end of it. You reached for your seatbelt until your door swung open. 

“You two figure your shit out. Whatever this is,” Sam motioned to the space between you two, “ isn’t leaving this car. I’ll be inside. Feel free to come in when y'all have killed and made up, okay?” With that, Sam slammed the door leaving Bucky and you alone in your static tension.

Bucky worried on his lip, his eyes trained to his lap. You opened your mouth to speak, but your words seemed caught in your throat. 

“You didn't even call…” 

It was so quiet, you almost didn't hear it. But you did… 

Voice small and so filled with ache; it kicked you in the stomach, the guilt washing away any anger you had felt. 

“Bucky… I- I couldn't.” You forced out, tentative as you met his gaze, stomach dropping as your eyes locked with his. 

“I thought I lost you. I thought - I mean, fuck - you were all I cared about.” He sighed, clearing his throat as if it would help ease his discomfort. “I looked for you, ya know?” He chuckled, but there was no warmth behind it. Just a brokenness that made you squirm. 

“It’s not your fault—”

“Oh, I know it’s not.” Bucky quipped, his eyes flicking away from yours and turning back to face the cabin. “It was your own selfish decision.” 

You scoffed, head snapping back to meet his glare. “Selfish? Bucky, I had no other choice. Not everyone can be pardoned for their crimes. It’s not like I had Steve Rogers advocating for my freedom!” 

Bucky only rolled his eyes, hands gripping the steering wheel so tight, you swore he might rip it clean off the car.  “Don’t bring him into this. You don't think that I would have done everything to get to you? To clear your name?”

You laughed bitterly, blinking away the tears that welled at the corners of your eyes. 

“You gotta at least give me more credit than that, Doll.” The pet name rolled off this tongue easily, washing over you, and making you freeze. 

“Please don’t call me that…” You faltered, wiping away a stray tear that rolled down your cheek. 

It seemed the tension dissipated in that moment, silence heavy between you both as Bucky reached out, his flesh fingers finding a tear and brushing it away. You tried to speak, but with everything that had been said, and all that would never be, you decided words just weren’t enough. 

You didn't have time to object before his lips were on yours, your body moving at its own accord as he pulled you onto his lap, your thighs either side of him as his tongue swept across your bottom lip. You tried to moan, but his mouth swallowed the sound. He rendered you breathless, his taste intoxicating as you melted into his embrace, grinding into him and shivering when a familiar growl slipped from his lips; vibrating against your mouth. 

“Fuck, I missed you.” You moaned out, clutching his jacket as you licked down his neck. His skin was burning against your lips, the rumble of his breath heavy against your ear as he let out a dark chuckle, urging you on. 

“Well, if you had just called me—” 

Before he could finish the sentence, you reached for the recliner, snapping it forward as you toppled forwards onto Bucky’s chest. His words fell back into his throat, hands automatically finding your hips to steady you while you fumbled with his belt. 

“Doll—” He tried to start, but you swallowed the name with your kiss, heated and rooted in a desperate need to feel him again. You ached for him in a way you’d never felt before. 

Maybe what you had was unfixable. Maybe it was beyond repair, but with the way he was kissing you and hiking down your pants, it didn't matter. You were drunk on him, and by the way he bucked his hips, so was he. 

You shivered as his vibranium fingers looped into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down over your legs as you both awkwardly tried to move in the cramped seat. You wanted to laugh, but as his cold thumb swiped through your slick folds, all you could do was whine. 

“So wet for me…” He hummed, teeth sinking into your throat as he pulled a whimper from your lips. 

You cursed, hands propping you up on either side of him as he dipped his index finger into you, the intrusion enough to have your back arching into him, desperate for more. 

But Bucky was a tease. And even now, after all of this time, it was the very thing that had your buckling above him. Pleading and begging for more.

“Look at you.” He started, his eyes dark as he pushed deeper inside, his finger curing into you as you gasped. 

“P-please, Buck.” You begged, grinding down onto his hand. To your dismay he only chuckled, watching intently as you came undone around him. 

“I told you,” He started, lifting you off of him and tossing you against the backseats, “Don’t call me that.” 

You couldn't help the giggle that bubbled out of your throat as he awkwardly crawled towards you. But the look in his eyes had your stomach twisting into something that emulated fear. It was guttural as he pressed into you, the outline of his cock digging into your drenched folds.

You bit back a moan, eyes rolling back in your head as his cold fingers brushed against your core, pulling himself free from his boxers. 

“Do you still love me like you did?”  He spoke, and though the words were soft and filled with promises you had broken before, there was a darkness in his voice. 

“I never stopped.” You admitted. And it was true. But that didn't seem to be the answer he was looking for as he licked his bottom lip, eyes trained on your throat. 

“I’m afraid isn’t gonna’ feel much like love, doll.” He breathed out, lining himself up with your entrance. Before you could speak, he thrusted into you, knocking the air out of your chest as he bent you uncomfortably in half. You could only scream as he caged you in, forcing you down against the seats as he fucked into you. 

It’s not like you forgot how Bucky filled you, but his size was something you would never be able by to fully adjust to. Especially not now, when he was holding you steady, his hips snapping against you giving you no time to ease into the assault. And by the looks of the lopsided smirk plastered on his swollen lips, he knew exactly how shredded you felt. 

“Fuck, you take me so good, sweetheart.” The pet name doing nothing to quell the ache he sent ripping through your body as he sank deeper into you. You could only cry out, head smashing into the door as he kept up his brutal pace. 

“B-Bucky, please.” You weren't exactly sure what you were asking for, but at this rate you wouldn't last long, the familiar coil building in your abdomen as he nudged up against your cervix. 

“Slow down, baby.” You choked on a sob, eyes glassy as his vibranium fingers coiled around you thoat, pining you to the seats.  

“Did you miss this part, doll?” He whispered against your ear, a shiver ripping through your body and igniting a flame you had so desperately craved since the moment he vanished from your world. “Miss the way I ruin you, Hm? I can feel you, coming undone. You’re so close, aren’t you?” he teased, pressing his fingers deeper into your throat until you were coughing around the pressure. 

“All I need to do is-” His flesh thumb ran circles against your clit, your eyes rolling back into your skull as you croaked out his name, begging him to ease up. “There it is.” He chuckled, quickening his pace until you were a shivering mess beneath him. 

“Bucky, I-” 

“I’m going to ruin this cunt, sweetheart. Stay still, and let go for me” His voice was like gravel, only letting you breathe once you nodded your head in complicity, pulling your bottom lip into your mouth as the orgasm wrapped itself around your core. 

“Fuck.” You managed to scream, your head lulling back as a title-wave of ecstasy crashed over you, pulling you under.

“That’s my girl.” His words tipped you over the edge, his name on your lips like a prayer as you quivered, your body violently shaking. “God you're so tight when you- Shit!” 

With a few sloppy thrusts, Bucky came undone. His hot spend coating your pulsing walls as he gasped. Your bodies a tangled mess as he puffed out a breath against your neck. 

You both just stayed frozen, too afraid that the moment you pulled away, reality would sink in. And the truth was, you weren't exactly sure what that meant. 

Bucky slowly eased himself out of you, gasping a little as you spilled out onto, what you only hoped, would be easy to clean seats.

 “Doll, that was-” 

“Hey,” Sam knocked hard against the now foggy glass, “You two hungry, or what?” 

[likeshipsonthesea]

mianmian gets to the lan sect lectures, discovers very quickly that every one of her peers has decided to use this time to figure out how quickly they can get into bed with someone of the opposite sex, and decides almost immediately that she has to pick a suitably unattainable guy to have a crush on.

the thing is, mianmian is lanling jin’s head disciple. she is capable, intelligent, and very very gay. the last of these things she isn’t exactly keen on telling people yet for a variety of reasons up to and including jin zixuan will be so awkward and stubbornly supportive about it and she doesn’t know how to deal with that yet

so when her friends giggle over the other young masters and finally turn to mianmian-- who’s trying to memorize at least some of the fifty-thousand rules before their quiz tomorrow--and they ask her, “who do you like, mianmian?” she says the name that she carefully picked out of a handful of options.

“lan-er-gongzi,” she says, without looking up from her textbook, and she assumes that will be the end of it. 

lan wangji is both incredibly attractive and unrelentingly resistant to all attempts to flirt with him. she, like half the other female cultivators, can moon over him (or pretend to moon over him) all they want and nothing will come of it. it’s perfect. she’s a genius. the worst she’ll have to do now is pretend to be infatuated with him when her friends start gossiping. it’s fool proof.

spoiler: it’s not

it’s not, no, because her friends are horrible and immediately start gossiping about it to everyone, and usually mianmian wouldn’t care but then jin zixuan finds out. jin zixuan, whose marriage complex is being brought to center stage with the forced proximity to his bride-to-be. jin zixuan, who for some reason decided he has to live his stolen crush-addled youth vicariously through his only real friend that isn’t related to him. jin zixuan, who for some godforsaken reason takes it upon himself to contrive situations for mianmian and lan wangji to be alone together incessantly.

it unfortunately takes mianmian longer than she would like to figure out what’s happening. she’d give herself a break for it-- she was being responsible and studying, thank you very much-- but she doesn’t have much sympathy for her own stupidity seeing as she’s currently locked in a section of the lan library with the second jade of lan

and suddenly, suddenly she’s just so fucking tired. of studying, yeah, the tests here are brutal and there’s no one to bribe to make sure she doesn’t lose points on stupid things, but also tired of lying to the people she loves and tired of training this hard and being an amazing cultivator only for people to care more about her eventual marriage-- to a man of all things!-- and also, let’s be real here, she’s been in lectures with beautiful capable intelligent women for like months and she’s losing her gay ass mind

and so maybe, possibly, as she’s locked in a library with a clearly confused and annoyed second jade of lan she kind of, momentarily, loses it and rants all of this at his steadily widening eyes

at the end of it, she realizes with no small amount of panic that she’s just confessed not only her attraction to women but the fact that she’s been letting wen qing’s ears of all things distract her from her studies. if anything, she’s sure lan wangji will fault her for inattention

but the second jade of lan, after a drawn-out moment filled only with mianmian’s labored breathing and rising panic, simply says, “i understand.”

mianmian stops. she squints. she tilts her head. she squints some more. lan wangji’s ears go pink and just like that she realizes -- “you’re a cut-sleeve.”

lan wangji’s ears go even pinker. he doesn’t nod, or agree, or outwardly react in any way, but mianmian is a capable, intelligent cultivator, and she’s sure of it.

mianmian sighs with a relief she didn’t know she could feel. “thank the gods.”

lan wangji doesn’t seem to know what to make of this response, or mianmian’s increasingly frequent trips to the library following their conversation, or mianmian’s staunch determination to befriend the guy, but that’s alright. mianmian is old hat at befriending awkward sect heirs by this point.

it’s not like lan wangji expressed any desire for her friendship, but the prospect of not being the only one with absolutely no interest in the straight shenanigans happening at gusu lan summer camp is enough to let mianmian ignore his obvious confusion. lan wangji is a great listener and only sometimes blushes when mianmian waxes poetic about the beautiful women she’s forced to surround herself with every day

“no but you don’t understand,” mianmian insists, alone in the library with lan wangji, “jiang-guniang asked me to help her with a sword form. i put my hands on her waist. i said something idiotic bc she was so pretty and right there and then she laughed. lan wangji. i’m in love.”

“yesterday you were in love with wen-guniang,” lan wangji says as he impassively turns a page in his book. “has this changed?”

“no, i’m in love with both of them. all of them. lan wangji. they’re all so pretty all the time. it’s horrible.”

lan wangji presses his lips into a firmer line, which mianmian’s come to understand means he’s repressing a smile. “i’m sorry to hear it brings luo-guniang such trouble.”

mianmian groans, fairly undignified, but that’s a lost cause with lan wangji at this point anyway. “i swear, if jin zixuan says one more bad thing about her i’m going to punch him and marry her myself.”

lan wangji says, “mn,” which mianmian takes to mean that he supports her in this line of thinking, which she finds both quite sweet and ridiculously funny.

grinning, she teases, “lan-er-gongzi, if i do end up marrying jiang-guniang, will you bear witness to our elopement?”

lan wangji’s lips press again, this time in the way that means he’s repressing a frown. “jiang-guniang’s brothers wouldn’t allow for an elopement,” he says.

mianmian huffs. “as if yunmeng or lanling will deign to host our wedding.”

lan wangji appears to ponder this for a moment before he says, “gusu will host it,” and it’s at that moment that mianmian realizes she’s actually gone and fucking befriended the second jade of lan.

what is her life.

of course, it’s not long after that that she goes to find jin zixuan and explain that she can’t make their weekly sparring match today because she has plans with lan wangji (jiang yanli tenderly brushed some of mianmian’s hair away from her forehead while they were working on sword forms and if mianmian doesn’t tell someone about it she’s literally going to explode) and she’s trying to be as polite as possible only for jin zixuan to scoff and pout (”i don’t pout”) and say, “i never took you for one of those women who throw themselves so wantonly at a man”

it’s only for having been friends with this absolutely horrible communicator for most of her life that she doesn’t immediately punch him in the face. “what did you just say to me,” she demands, but jin zixuan just sets his jaw and looks away, flushing down his neck in the way his mother describes as unbecoming and--

and mianmian suddenly realizes that her ridiculous best friend is jealous of lan wangji. 

(in a friend way, of course, he’s like her brother, the one time his mother implied that he ought not get too close to women in case it jeopardizes his betrothal to jiang yanli, he insisted he didn’t have any female friends repeatedly as his mother delicately danced around outright saying mianmian’s name until finally she broke and jin zixuan was basically like huh?? mianmian doesn’t count?? she made me eat dirt like six times when we were kids)

the sheer ridiculousness of jin zixuan, to set her up with a guy and then get jealous when she spends all her time with him

and fuck her, but she loves her stupid awkward ridiculous sect heir best friend and she doesn’t want him to think she’s gone and left him for someone else (gods know jin zixuan’s loyalty complex rivals his marriage one (on second thought the two might be connected)) and so, after making a few quick decisions, mianmian grabs her stupid best friend by the wrist and pulls him to the library

he protests all the way there, but he’s been letting her drag him wherever she wants since they were five and it isn’t as if he’s going to break the pattern now. she drags him to the library and sits him down across a startled lan wangji and then finally breaks and gushes about jiang-guniang’s fingertips brushing her forehead and doesn’t look at jin zixuan once the whole time

lan wangji, on the other hand, sends jin zixuan frequent glances, as if worried on mianmian’s behalf, which is super sweet and also how the fuck did mianmian get two awkward sect heirs to care about her platonically wtf. she spares a thought for her poor auntie, who would’ve loved to have a sect heir care about her niece in much less platonic ways.

at the end of mianmian’s rant, jin zixuan is blinking quite a lot. “you like women?” he asks. he’s always been a bit slow on the uptake. mianmian nods. “you like jiang-guniang?”

mianmian shrugs. “more or less. she’s just really pretty and i’m dying about it. it’s fine.”

lan wangji says, “mn,” sympathetically and jin zixuan continues to gape.

mianmian winces. “you’re not going to be weird about this, are you?”

jin zixuan shakes his head quickly. “no, no-- of course not, i--you know that i--you’re my best friend, i don’t care--what does it matter to me, who you want to--to touch your hair.”

it’s probably the most awkward sentence he’s said to her in years, but possibly more articulate than she’d been expecting. it makes her tear up regardless and she punches him in the shoulder to hide it, and that’s basically how the three of them start hanging out in the library nearly every day after lecture.

sometimes they go to the sparring ground, bc who’s better sparring practice than the second jade of lan? and sometimes (once or twice) mianmian manages to convince lan wangji to join her and jin zixuan for lunch in caiyi town when they don’t have lecture, but mostly they meet in a secluded part of the library where mianmian can rant about how pretty all the women at lectures are, jin zixuan can turn pink whenever she mentions jiang-guniang, and lan wangji can “mn” and nod sympathetically at all the right parts

and mianmian thinks that’s going to be the end of it, they’re just going to be friends now and everything else will move on as usual, bc by some ridiculous trick of fate lan wangji and jin zixuan seem to like each other. which makes sense in hindsight bc they’re both awkward sect heirs who care about cultivation and people a lot even if they’re not great at showing it 

(and he’d never say it but mianmian thinks jin zixuan’s easy acceptance of her liking women is probably the first time lan wangji’s ever seen someone accept that kind of thing before (maybe, possibly, other than his brother, lan xichen seems really cool, even if he does smile kind of intensely at mianmian whenever he happens upon her hanging out with his little brother.))

so they’re friends, they’re unexpected friends, and sometimes lan wangji even makes jokes in that dry deadpan way of his and sometimes jin zixuan doesn’t completely trip over his own words and manages to act like a normal human being and mianmian gets two idiots to care about and a perfect place to vent her womanly frustrations, and she thinks that’s the end of it and then wei wuxian accosts her after lectures one day

“do you like lan zhan?” he asks accusingly, eyes narrowed to slits. “what am i even asking, of course you like lan zhan, but do you like-like him?”

mianmian thinks sadly to herself that she’s much too into women to be dealing with all these men’s emotional problems. “lan wangji is my friend,” she says, carefully sidestepping wei wuxian, who continues to squint at her suspiciously. really, he’d been amusing when he flirted with her, but this? this is just ridiculous.

“does he know that?” wei wuxian asks. “because if he doesn’t, that’s just leading him on, and it’s really not nice to--”

“lan wangji knows we’re friends,” she says, trying to enunciate to get her point across clearly. “you can ask him, if you don’t believe me.”

wei wuxian squints a moment longer before he turns and flounces off. mianmian thinks this is the end of it until she’s accosted again after dinner with, “he said you were friends!”

for some reason, wei wuxian seems even more troubled by this than earlier. mianmian tries to suppress her eyeroll. “i told you he would?”

“but how,” wei wuxian says, suddenly whining. “i’ve been trying to be his friend for months and he refuses to acknowledge me.”

oh, mianmian realizes with a quickly dawning horror. she and lan wangji are not the only cut-sleeves at cloud recesses this summer. (she has suspicions, of course, but no confirmations on any of the others, but this. wow.)

she also realizes, decides really, that she has enough repressed sect heirs in her life and she cannot deal with wei wuxian’s cut-sleeve crisis or his evidently large attachment to lan wangji right now. she turns decisively and walks the fuck away. not her problem.

the lectures end eventually, of course, and mianmian and jin zixuan return to lanling with a horde of golden robed disciples, freshly deflowered and not all together more learned. it’s what, she thinks grimly, their sect leader would want.

the first few weeks go by and she realizes that she’s missed unloading about her frequent and fast falling-in-loves. jin zixuan just doesn’t sympathize right, bless him, and so mianmian takes to writing letters. she sends two without receiving a reply and just starts to write the third when a letter with the gusu symbol is delivered to her room.

she’s almost expecting to find a single mn written on the page-- she would’ve been delighted with just that, actually, the sheer hilarity of such a thing-- but instead she finds several pages filled with lan wangji’s perfect calligraphy.

it’s more than he’s ever spoken out loud, but it seems that propriety dictated that he return mianmian’s extensive letter with one of his own and he’s done so admirably. he responds to the events mianmian detailed in her letters-- most succinctly summarized as, woman are gorgeous and i’m dying-- and then writes about his own life in cloud recesses. apparently, he went on a little night hunt with wei wuxian and also nie huaisang and jiang cheng were involved? seriously, mianmian misses out on all the fun.

he’s also apparently taken in some rabbits, which mianmian immediately decides she needs to see. lan wangji, sitting prim and proper, with a bunch of rabbits in his lap? amazing. wei wuxian would die on sight, she’s sure of it.

he also ends his letter with a warning about qishan wen that has mianmian frowning. she takes it to jin zixuan who reads the paragraph and frowns. “i’ll talk to my father about it,” he says, which she can tell by his hunched shoulders he doesn’t expect to do much.

“talk to your father’s general too,” she suggests, because that man at least thinks with his head and not his dick.

jin zixuan nods but doesn’t hand back the letter. he skims it instead with a barely concealed surprise at lan wangji’s previously hidden expansive vocabulary. mianmian snorts and grabs the letter back. “you can write to him yourself, you know.”

jin zixuan flushes down his neck. “i know!” he insists and then turns and runs away because he’s a coward. mianmian shakes her head, smiling. what an idiot.

still, another week goes by and a letter arrives from gusu and, when mianmian takes it, assuming it’s for her, she finds it addressed to jin zixuan in lan wangji’s impeccable calligraphy and she grins to herself like an idiot. look at jin zixuan, making friends

(she suddenly understands why lan xichen gave her all those intense smiles during the lan lectures)

they go on in this way, writing letters to lan wangji from lanling. sometimes mianmian steals jin zixuan’s letters before he sends them so she can squeeze in some ranting in the post script without wasting a whole second thing of paper, and lan wangji replies dutifully, more verbose than he ever was in person, and it’s nice okay, like. she and jin zixuan have been best friends since they were kids but neither of them has ever been any good at listening and lan wangji is just so honest and earnest in everything, like they didn’t realize that people outside of lanling were actually not always plotting your downfall??? who woulda thunk

and then of course the wens go and ruin everything. they go to the wen lectures bc jin guangshan doesn’t want to “anger our trading partner” like the guy isn’t obviously going to burn carp tower to the ground the first chance he gets, and mostly mianmian and jin zixuan are just vaguely annoyed and put out about it

then lan wangji shows up with a broken leg and a burned sect and they are ready to murder some dudes

after years of breaking in and out of carp tower she and jin zixuan are old hats at this breaking and entering stuff and they manage to sneak into lan wangji’s guest quarters and tend to his wounds, ignoring all his silent glares and ranting furiously about how they’re going to murder wen chao by making him choke on his own dick (mianmian) and how they’re going to war with the wen sect even if he has to threaten his father with acknowledging all of his bastards as proper siblings in public to do it (jin zixuan)

lan wangji just says “mn” and makes various muted, distressed expressions, but mianmian thinks he’s touched.

“are your brother and uncle alright?” she asks, when she’s set his broken leg and forced pain medication down his throat.

“brother escaped with our sacred texts,” lan wangji says. “uncle is... unwell.”

mianmian knows lan wangji hates touch but the way he says it, with this horrible little frown, emoting more than she’s ever seen him, his barely suppressed anger and grief literally making his hands shake into fists, mianmian can’t help it, she hugs him. “we’ll make them pay,” she swears into his shoulder, ruining the lines of his robes with how she clutches at them. “i promise you.”

jin zixuan awkwardly pats lan wangji’s shoulder, which is a lot for him and mianmian spares a moment to be proud of his growth.

unfortunately, wen chao seems to delight in torturing lan wangji on his injured leg and lan wangji refuses to show weakness, which both impresses mianmian and pisses her the fuck off. she approaches wen qing (and her still gorgeous ears, sigh) and asks her to tend to lan wangji, since she’s like actually a doctor. wen qing does bc she’s beautiful, intelligent, and kind and mianmian spends most of that night sighing deeply as she relates this to a significantly drugged lan wangji

the cave of the xuanwu goes about the same as you’d expect. wei wuxian saving her from getting her face branded off is pretty rad of him, though he could’ve just like knocked the brand away instead of throwing himself in front of it but whatever, you do you boo. when lan wangji gets left behind the two of them don’t even have to wait for jiang cheng to grumble and ask for their help, they’re already on their way to carp tower for an army, thank you very much

when they rescue wei wuxian and lan wangji and lan wangji immediately turns to walk back to cloud recesses on a broken leg mianmian says, “fuck no, that’s not happening, you’re getting medical attention and then someone will fly you back home, okay, wtf wangji, sit down.”

and lan wangji is a stubborn bitch so obvs he’s like no but he’s also severely starved, dehydrated, and injured, so it’s not like he can just shake off mianmian holding him down and this goes on long enough for wei wuxian to wake up and see mianmian touching lan wangji, and something in his poor little brain just like breaks and he demands says, “lan zhan, come back to lotus pier with us.”

his argument, as he explains it, is that lotus pier is closer (it’s not; they’re just as close to carp tower as lotus pier) and that it’s closer to gusu for when lan wangji has to return home (it’s not; same deal) but then jiang cheng starts yelling, possibly in support possibly not mianmian’s not sure, and jin zixuan starts getting awkward, probably about the whole golden army behind him bc he’s a nerd and hates being overdressed at functions (this is basically the same thing), and mianmian looks at lan wangji and she sees--

something. she isn’t sure what exactly, but lan wangji looks at wei wuxian as he argues with his brother and he presses his lips into a thin line in the way that means he wants to smile and mianmian thinks, oh. maybe wei wuxian isn’t completely unrequited in his lan wangji obsession.

growing up in lanling, she knows how to use information to her advantage, so she immediately says, “young masters wei and jiang, what a great idea. lanling’s disciples would be pleased to accompany you and second young master lan to lotus pier to ensure everyone’s safe arrival.”

everyone splutters, indignant, confused, awkward (jiang cheng, wei wuxian, and jin zixuan, respectively) but lan wangji narrows his eyes at mianmian and doesn’t try to convince her to let him walk to gusu again, so she counts it as a win.

sect leader jiang and his wife seem surprised and annoyed, respectively, to be taking in so many guests, but sect leader jiang merely smiles pleasantly and directs them to some guest quarters and mianmian and wei wuxian ask, simultaneously, for doctors to tend to lan wangji and wei wuxian makes a face at her and mianmian sighs to herself that she really is too gay to be in the middle of his thing with lan wangji.

turns out, walking a lot and fighting a cannibalistic turtle on a broken leg doesn’t do wonders for healing. lan wangji is also the worst patient ever, he keeps trying to sneak out and get up even though word came from his brother that he’s safe and alright and that cloud recesses is starting to rebuild after qinghe nie and lanling jin came to its aid and pushed out the wen

but with the combined efforts of mianmian, jin zixuan, and wei wuxian (and even jiang yanli at one point, bc who could say no to her soup??) they manage to get lan wangji to just rest for a fucking second, really which results in the jin disciples and lan wangji staying in lotus pier for longer than anyone could’ve expected

mianmian spends most of her time (when she isn’t forcing lan wangji to just fucking stay in bed) working with the jiang disciples, practicing archery, sword forms, and mooning after all the beautiful women here.

(”lan wangji, i know she’s scary, but have you seen madam yu? she could whip me with zidian and i’d thank her” “luo-guniang, please don’t ask madam yu to whip you” OR “lan wangji, i’m almost positive madam yu’s maids are a thing, do you think they’d let me join them just like once” “luo-guniang, could you please pass me my sword?” “why” “i’d like to put myself out of this misery” OR “she made me soup. lan wangji. lan wangji, i know you’re not sleeping, wake up, you have to listen to me, this soup”)

they end up staying so long that when wang lingjiao shows up threatening a child about a kite while sect leader jiang is away, she has a lot more to deal with than madam yu. since none of this had been a “sanctioned visit” no one actually knew that there was nearly an entire troop of jin disciples staying at lotus pier, so when the wens attack they are sorely unprepared for what they’re going to face.

(and ofc lan wangji breaks out of bed heroically and keeps madam yu from whipping wei wuxian, which means they aren’t down one of their most powerful fighters and mianmian has to suffer through the moon eyes they’re making at one another in the middle of a battle no less, she knew wei wuxian had no shame but she’d been hoping lan wangji would have some)

after the wen attack (and defeat) on lotus pier and the jin’s inarguable part in it, the war starts in earnest. lan wangji, after his long rest, heals fine and goes back to gusu to help rebuild his sect and plan for war, and mianmian and jin zixuan return to carp tower to plan as well, ignoring jin guangshan and focusing instead on his general to ensure lanling supplies necessary aid in the war effort

and war is always shitty, of course, and mianmian hates watching her sect family die on the battlefield, hates waiting for updates after every battle to see who’s still alive, hates the politics and jin guangshan trying to wheedle his way out of fighting when there’s fucking lives on the line

(and she could never know, how much easier it is, with yunmeng jiang at its full strength, with one of the brightest minds of their generation there to plot and help, with two of the best fighters not out searching for someone and instead focused on the front)

they reach nightless city after months of fighting and mianmian is ready to just fucking stab wen ruohan herself when they’re suddenly trapped. blocked in on all sides by puppets, their fallen soldiers rising again to turn on them, and it--it looks like they’re gonna die.

“this sucks,” she says to lan wangji, stifling her fear and choking it down. “i never even got to kiss a girl.”

lan wangji just says “mn.”

jin zixuan, beside them, says, “i was an idiot about jiang-guniang.”

lan wangji just says, “mn.”

then wei wuxian pulls out a fucking flute and a-- floating piece of metal?  the army of puppets and corpses stops advancing, held in place by-- music, apparently? and wen ruohan emerges from his lair, black energy falling off him in waves, wei wuxian the idiot flies forward to meet him, gets wen ruohan’s hand around his throat for his trouble.

lan wangji yells, “wei ying!” and mianmian thinks, really not fair that lan wangji is gonna get a boyfriend before i get a girlfriend

and then wen ruohan gets stabbed by jin zixuan’s half brother of all people. wen ruohan, along with his puppets and wei wuxian, fall to the ground. lan wangji rushes forward to catch wei wuxian, mianmian runs after him, finds herself in company with jin zixuan and jiang cheng. when they get there, wei wuxian is barely conscious but he’s-- he’s fucking grinning up at lan wangji from the cradle of lan wangji’s arms

“lan zhan,” he says, “you caught me.”

lan wangji nods, says, “mn,” which is basically his equivalent of i’ll always catch you, wei ying.

“really,” mianmian says aloud, “it’s so unfair.”

the aftermath of the war is more annoying than the war itself, what with all the politics and in-fighting and jin guangshan trying to be the biggest dick there ever was. jin guangshan tries to name himself chief cultivator in wen ruohan’s stead but nie mingjue suggests jiang fengmian instead and the lan sect backs him. jin guangshan tries to demonize the wens but at wei wuxian’s loud rebuttal and sect leader jiang’s backing (which is then backed by both gusu lan and qinghe nie) he’s once again shouted down. and then jin guangshan tries to propose to jiang-guniang for his son and the poor woman just seems so awkward and her father doesn’t seem to know what to say and--

mianmian elbows jin zixuan whose eyes widen ridiculously but, after another, harder hit, he suddenly stands. all eyes go to him, which mianmian knows he hates, but he bows to his father, then jiang yanli, and says, “jiang-guniang, forgive my father’s impertinence. this is not the time or place to be making such an offer, but he--” jin zixuan winces visibly. “--he knows of my feelings and wishes to make his foolish son happy. please, do not feel the need to respond.”

then he promptly sits down, flushing down to his neck, and mianmian shares a disbelieving glance with lan wangji from across the horrible nightless city palace room.

she’d really only meant for him to suggest jiang yanli answer privately, at a later time, but wow, jin zixuan really went for it. also no way jin guangshan knows his son has fallen in love with jiang yanli, so nice save face there. maybe he has been paying attention in all of their etiquette and political espionage classes.

jiang yanli flushes way prettier than jin zixuan and nods politely, stands and bows and thanks the jin clan for being considerate in this time of turmoil, perhaps they can discuss this matter at a later date (jin zixuan looks like he nearly faints at this, and mianmian feels vindicated in all her forlorn ranting. overreacting her ass)

when everything has been settled, wen qing has been appointed the new sect leader of qishan wen with promises to return land to those who lost it and pay reparations to the hurt civilians, as well as have the yin iron destroyed for good. during the final ceremony where all the sects have tea and pledge to be loyal to one another (until the next great war, of course) mianmian leans close to lan wangji and sighs, “her ears look even lovelier with her hair tied back by her new sect leader hairpiece.”

lan wangji says “mn” because he’s a cut sleeve in love with wei wuxian and has nothing even closely resembling taste.

mianmian, on her own, decides to make them both happy. before the jin clan departs from nightless city, she goes up to wei wuxian and asks for a moment of his time. wei wuxian seems confused but follows and, once they’re alone, he says, “mianmian, are you about to get me into bed, because i must tell you that i am a respectable young cultivator and you’ll need to marry me before--”

mianmian gives him her best unimpressed look (she’s had much practice with it, thank you jin zixuan) and cuts him off with, “i like women.” 

wei wuxian’s eyes go wide. “but you and lan zhan--”

she cuts him off again before he can say something so stupid she has to stop talking to him to refrain from breaking all laws of propriety. “look,” she says, “you’re friends with wen qing. now that she’s sect leader, your brother can’t go after her. i, on the other hand, very much can. if you promise to figure out a way for me and her to get close, i’ll tell you a secret you’ll like very much.”

wei wuxian seems hesitant for all of half a second before he breaks. “tell me.”

“do you promise?”

wei wuxian raises three fingers. “promise.”

“on your sister’s life?”

begrudgingly, wei wuxian nods.

“on her soup?”

“just get on with it!”

mianmian smirks, pushes onto her tiptoes, and whispers the secret into wei wuxian’s ear. with that, she returns to the pavilion where all the sects mingle as they wait to depart, wei wuxian trailing behind her in a daze, his mouth hanging open.

lan wangji, who had been watching since mianmian asked wei wuxian for a moment to talk, frowns nearly imperceptibly. mianmian grins at him and his frown grows.

ah, whatever. she walks over to him, unbothered by the quickly growing alarm in his eyes. once next to him, she turns around to see wei wuxian staring unabashedly. her smile only widens.

“you’re going to thank me for this,” she says.

wei wuxian shakes himself, his eyes focusing, and immediately starts walking towards them.

lan wangji, voice flat but wavering, asks, “luo-guniang, what did you do?”

mianmian laughs, says, “i get to give a speech at your wedding,” and walks away just as wei wuxian reaches them.

(she does, actually, give a speech at their wedding. she may or may not be drunk during it, jin zixuan gets embarrassed for her, and she starts tearing up and has to hide it in the shoulder of her wife’s lovely well-tailored robes. it’s alright, though, wen qing doesn’t mind)

EDIT: now on AO3 with a real fic version from lwj’s pov!

[raggaraddy]

your writing is amazing 🥺

could i ask for a yoongi version of the reader being shot because of them? your other ones are so good!!!

Family affairs

@dramaclub-thin

A/N: Thank you, sweetheart! I'm glad you're enjoying the series. This one has a bit of OT7 and I hope you like it too. 💜💜💜

If anyone else wants to request, you can here.

Other parts:

Namjoon

Jimin

Taehyung

Jungkook

Summary: You'd tried so hard to hide your relationship with Yoongi from your father. You knew when he found you were dating someone from a rival club that he'd kill you. You just didn't think it would be literal.

Trigger warnings: Violence, Filicide, Blood, gun usage.

Yoongi

Mafia! Yoongi

Mafia! BTS

"Yes Daddy," you poke your head through the door to his office with a little knock. Normally you would never bother your father while he was working, but one of your brothers came to your room to let you know he was calling for you.

"Ah, Darling. Yes, have a seat." He stands up from his desk, gesturing to the chair ahead of him. "I need your advice on something."

For a moment you get a flutter in your stomach. He never asks you for anything. Your his pretty princess on a pedestal. And he never involves you in anything that a woman wouldn't have been responsible for in the 1950s.

"Of course," you smile, shifting comfortably.

"I know you're tech-savvy, so maybe you can explain this to me. I had some photos printed, but I think there must be something wrong with the camera. Have a look,"

Reaching into his desk drawer as he speaks he pulls out a stack of A4 photos. As he lays them out your eyes jump straight back up at him. Checking for his reaction, a sharp pang of absolute fear hitting you. They're pictures of you and Yoongi, his arm around you when you were coming out of the Bangtan clubhouse.

"I know the camera has to be faulty, because that" he tapes your image, "looks like you. And I know my one and only daughter wouldn't be socializing with those Bulletproof scum."

"Daddy, I-I," you stutter with no idea what to say.

You thought you were so clever, so careful that there was no way he'd ever find out. Even when Yoongi would worry about you possibly being caught you would shrug it off. Your love was invincible and meant to be, and you were smart. No chance your family would ever know you're with Yoongi, and no way his family would ever know you were from a rival gang. As far as they knew, you were just Y/n Brown, the hairdresser from one district over.

But clearly, you weren't careful or clever enough.

Your stark silence is loud enough for your father and he nods a sombre confirmation. "How long Y/n?" He questions.

"Daddy, I don't-"

"How long?!" He's quick to anger, making you jump.

"A few months," you lie, your eyes dropping to your lap. Telling him it's been closer to 18 months is only going to enrage him further.

Slumping back into his office chair he lets out a heavy sigh.

"You think you raise your kids right. To know loyalty and family." He derides looking at you fiercely. "But then you find out your own daughter will open her legs for any cretin. In complete disregard of everything she should know."

You knew it would be awful if he ever found out, you know he is a terrifying dangerous man, but hearing your father's derogatory comments are harder to take than you ever expected.

"What did you tell them?" He sits forward. His demeanour, his expression going from disappointed father to cold mafioso.

Your mouth going dry, you swallow hard. Shaking your head softly. "Nothing."

"Bullshit!" He yells. "You expect me to believe they just let the daughter of Bastille get all cosy with one of the 7 without you giving up something."

This is so bad. You knew your parents, your brothers, the entire Bastille would disown you for this, but they'll actually kill you if they think you've sold them out.

"No. I didn't tell them anything. None of them knows who I am. Only Yoongi knows. And I didn't tell him shit. You know I wouldn't." You defend yourself trying to reign in your distress.

"Well, there's a lot of things I wouldn't think a daughter of mine could do." His voice is so detached. He's stopped looking at you. This is so so bad.

"Dad. I didn't say anything." You restate, fighting to convince him. Feeling like you're trying to prove the case for your own life. "I know the rules. Don't talk to anyone. Not cops. Not friends or enemies." You repeat the words that had been drilled in your entire childhood. You knew nothing, you saw nothing. Those are the rules.

"I don't believe you." He says bitterly.

Your hands are trembling, you're panting heavily. You know being with a rival club member is a stupid thing, but the clubs are in a truce.  And despite your father's opinion, you would never be so stupid as to actually say anything. And Yoongi would never let you, even if you decided to. You did one thing wrong, but you made sure you did everything else right.

Leaning back, he opens his phone book. Searching for a number.

"Dad," You plead for his attention. Raising the phone to his ear he shushes you, placing a finger over his mouth.

You have no idea what to do. You've seen him decimate people for so much less than what he's accusing you of. You don't know how to prove your innocence.

The call answers and you can hear a distant 'hello'.  Putting the phone on speaker he puts the receiver down.

"Warren L/n here. I believe I have something of yours," he says.

"What are you talking about?" You inhale a staggered breath, hearing the familiar gruff voice of Kim Namjoon.

Your dad's plan was simple. If you were telling the truth about Bangtan not knowing who you were, their leader would be confused and concerned that you were with the leader of Bastille. But if they knew who you were, this would be a much more straightforward issue. Namjoon would understand right away why he was calling.

And if you were lying about one thing, he could assume you were lying about more.

"Say hello Y/n." Your dad prompts, his look daring you to refuse.

"Hi," You squeak, nervously chewing the inside of your cheek. Your own safety aside, Namjoon was going to kill Yoongi.

There's a brief pause. The background noise on Namjoon's side disappearing. "Kidnapping women? I didn't realise you were handling that personally now."

"Who said kidnap?" he leads the conversation.

"Then maybe you want to explain what one of our girls is doing with you?" Namjoon growls, sounding protective.

That was enough confirmation for your father. The leader didn't know what was going on. But he was about to.

On Namjoons side of the line, he was pacing back and forth in a closed meeting room at the entrance of the clubhouse. Your father was revealing the secret that you and Yoongi had fought so hard to keep.

The phone call ending, Namjoon was in a rage. Marching across the bar he stormed at the table with other members around it. His maddened expression drawing Yoongi's attention. But the older member didn't have any reason to think this fury was directed at him and so he doesn't react quick enough as Namjoon punches him in the face, knocking him from his chair.

The other boys instantly becoming alert, Jungkook jumps to Namjoons side holding his arm out in front of him, looking ready to intervene. Jimin standing between the floored Yoongi and the enraged leader.

"Hyung, what the hell ar-" Jimin snaps.

"You fucking idiot! Bastille's daughter?!" he roars trying to push through Jimin. Jungkook stepping in to help keep him at bay.

Climbing back to his feet, nursing a split lip, Yoongi's eyes go wide. Completely caught off guard by Namjoon's revelation. "How did you-" he gapes.

"Everything she's seen, everything she knows! Do you have any idea how much you've exposed this club?" He lunges again, bowling the mediating members out of the way. Diving through Yoongi, the two men trade blows as they scuffle on the floor.

The scene quickly gets out of hand, and as Yoongi throws Namjoon through a table, Jin and Hoseok come from a backroom to step in also. The four of them now working to pry the two battling men apart. Jimin and Hoseok holding back Yoongi. The oldest and youngest members trying to keep Namjoon at bay.

"Enough!" Jin scolds with a firm shove to Namjoon's chest. "Someone explain what the hell is going on!"

"Just Suga thinking with his dick, instead of his brain." Namjoon spits.

Shirking off the boys, Yoongi barges forward infuriated by the provocative comment. War breaking out again with a solid hit at Namjoon, a gash opening over his eye. Another difficult struggle beginning for the members, grappling and clawing them apart. Having to fully restrain them to have them stop. Being held as they bleed.

Grabbing both of them by the collar, Jin demands their focus. "The next man who throws a punch leaves here with a bullet in his leg!" He growls. "Am I clear?!" His fist tightens, stiffening their necklines.

"Yes,"

"Yes, Hyung."

The two of them conceded, their energy dropping as their eldest releases them. "Good. Now sit down so we can talk this shit out."

It takes several minutes and a round of drinks, but the room calms down enough for the members to sit down. They send the few 2nd levels out and the 95's girlfriends. The bar remaining with only the 7 original members. Taehyung coming back just as the disclosure began.

Namjoon starts, passing along the information your father had given him. The 6 of them all sharing disappointed, worried or angry glances towards Yoongi.

"She wouldn't have said anything." Yoongi insists, after explaining his side also. Trying to defend his decision. To defend you.

"You can't know that," Jimin argues, flumping back in his seat. Taking a sip with a pissed-off scowl on his face.

"Yeah, we've all been pussy blinded before. You're not thinking clearly." Jungkook snips.

"Maknae-" Yoongi warns. Getting tired of the disrespect that keeps getting thrown his way.

"Hey, watch it." Jin interrupts, correcting Jungkook's blunt attitude. The youngest shrugging, downing the last of his drink.

"Look, if she was giving information to L/n, then why would he call to tell you that he knows." Yoongi disputes. Hoping to bring reason back into the debate.

"He wants to trade. The latest shipment of horse for Y/n." Namjoon answers with a frustrated scoff and a roll of his eyes.

"That's close to 500 K. That's not happening," Hoseok jumps in. The rest of them firmly nodding in agreement.

"Okay, but if that's the case. If he's trying to sell her off, that means she's not working with him. Right?" Taehyung backs Yoongi's point.

"Idiot," Jimin shoves his friend, "It could be a part of the plan. A way to rip us off for half a million."

"Or it could be a set-up," Namjoon adds. "Let's say Hyung's right, and she isn't working with her old man. If we're willing to sit down, if we try to buy her back, it confirms that she knows enough that we're concerned about it."

"I'm telling you, she doesn't know anything. She didn't want to know anything. And even if she did, she's not gonna give it up." Again Yoongi vehemently defends you.

"Well if she doesn't give him anything then L/n kills her." Namjoon finalizes. "To hurt the club, and as retribution for her betrayal."

"What I don't understand is why you would let her go back? If you trust her and you know how ruthless Bastille is, why would you let her keep going back to him?" Jin asks, genuinely baffled.

Standing up Yoongi can't take anymore. He's furious. He's upset. At himself most of all. Feeling to blame for allowing you to be in this situation, he leaves in anger. Needing some time to himself to think.

"I don't know, she seemed pretty cool," Taehyung mutters, leaning into Namjoon. "You don't really think he would kill his own daughter, right?"

It's been 2 days and you've been locked in an empty storage shed at the edge of the property like a captive. Your father turned your world upside down looking for information. His people went through your computer, your phone, your car, your room. Everything that was yours he and his men had raided. And just like you said, there was nothing there. No information about Bastille, and nothing about Bangtan.

"Suga. I'm guessing that's Min Yoongi? Unless you're cheating on him." Your dad muses holding up your phone. That is so humiliating. So many nudes and dirty texts are in that chat. There may not be revealing information, but there was still plenty of personal stuff.

"You know Darling, I don't like to admit when I am wrong, but it looks like you were telling the truth. I can't find any proof that you gave up any family details." He smiles softly, your heart lifting with relief for a moment. "But then I was looking through your camera roll and, in the pictures where you actually have clothes on, it's just full of Bangtan." He comes further into the empty shed, leaning on the wall alongside you. Showing you the screen as he scrolls through. The only entrance being blocked by one of his more grizzly looking men. "See here, there's you and a bunch of them at a restaurant. There's you and the leader. You and the crazy one. Here's a family-style photo, isn't that nice."

He keeps scrolling through shot after shot, exhibiting an entire album full of Bangtan family pictures.

"I'm sure you never expected anyone else to see these. I guess I should have been teaching you not to put the same password for multiple devices." He scoffs. "But the interesting thing, when I'm going through these photos you seem to be really close with all of them. Some of these even go back to last year. Which makes the timeline you gave me a little off."

He shows the details of one of the pictures to you, the time stamp from when you had already been with Yoongi for 6 months.

"This one is from May 2nd. Last year. On the 10th those bastards stole one of my shipping containers. With nearly 100 grand worth of merchandise. Did you know about that?"

"You mean people." You sneer, his characterization of human trafficking as 'merchandise' making your skin crawl.

"So you did know." He smiles coldly.

"I found out- I knew after," you justify. Even as you continue to defend yourself, you have a sick feeling that it's all for nothing.

"I'm really curious what else you know." He hums, walking around the front of you to get back into your eye line.

"I don't know anything," you tell him for the 1000th time with an exasperated shake of your head. Moving away to the far side of the shed.

"Darling, I'm your father and I'm telling you we need to reconcile this. Your mother is worried sick. I'm here losing sleep over this. I'm giving you a chance to repay all the damage you've done. A chance to forget all this. You tell me everything you know about Bangtan, and just like that," he snaps his fingers, "you get to return to your comfortable life."

You don't trust his change in tone or his promises for a minute. You may not have known the darkest parts of who he is, but that's how you can be sure that his offer to forgive and forget is rubbish. Not even the father in him would let you forget a mistake. Especially one this major, not with the way he is reacting. And he's so much more brutal when it comes to Bastille.

"And if I don't?"

"Then you've betrayed your family. And we'll find out what we want to know in other ways." he taps the back of his hand in the other, symbolizing a beat down.

You shake your head hard. You might love your dad. But you don't like him. You've known for most of your life that he was a bad guy. And Yoongi, Bangtan, they might not be the good guys, but they've been the family you've always wanted. There is no way you were telling him even the most insignificant detail.

"Hit me all you want dad, I still don't know anything." You snarl.

"I could never hit my own daughter." He taps his heart, a feigned pained expression on his face. Nodding his head in your direction, he trades places with his man who advances on you.

Breathing hard you step back only to hit the wall.

The tall, square-built man swings. The back of his hand slapping your cheek, the force so strong that it smacks you into the corner sidewall. His hand, like a vice, grabs ahold of your head and mightily slams it into the steel beam running down the sheet metal wall. Pushing your hands against his chest, you weakly attempt to fend him off, but he ends your efforts with another solid wack against the frame.

As blood streams down your head, his focus switches. The majority of his attacks landing on your torso.

With you curled up on the floor, wheezing and gasping for breath, the assault finally stops. But not out of mercy. Even through the ringing in your ears, you can hear the outburst of gunfire in the distance.

Both your dad and his man rush out, leaving you locked away. While it's for an equally terrifying reason, you're thankful to have this time to catch your breath. Although every laborious intake brings agony.

After some time, light floods back into the room, your father standing in the doorway outlined by the setting sun. "I'm sorry Darling. If I had to do this, I hoped it would be a bit more ceremonious. But we don't have the time for that now."

You gasp at him raising his gun at you. He shoots three times. One in your chest, one in your shoulder and one in your stomach.

The shock, the impact takes the breath from you. And you can't draw it back in. Your eyes glassing over, your head filled with nothing but white noise. Feeling a fleeting moment of relief as everything goes quiet and dark.

"Fuck. No!" Yoongi howls. He, Jin and two 2nd ranks had chased after your father as he fled.

Bangtan's siege on his property was highly successful till that point, and he had run downhill to the storage garage. Looking to make a getaway.

The other's continue after him as Yoongi stumbles into you. His steely outer shell crumbling away the moment he sees your body limp and bleeding out.

Falling beside you he leans over shaking and in tears. Kissing your lips gently with heartfelt pleas "I'm sorry Y/n. I'm so sorry. Please don't do this. Please."

Jin doubles back, watching distraught from the entrance as his brother falls apart.

Lifting your head up, Yoongi brings your forehead to his. The movement making you splutter blood. The first sign of life that either of the men had seen.

"Holy fuck, she's alive." Jin gawks, jumping in beside Yoongi pressing on the hole in your stomach. The bullet in your shoulder and chest had both hit bone, stopping the slug from going through, blocking the wounds from severe blood loss. The bullet in your torso shot through your bowls and thankfully not through your vital organs. Meaning your chances of survival were much higher. It was either 3 highly unlucky shots or three precisely placed ones.

"I'm so sorry Y/n." Yoongi's in shock. Devastated and guilt-ridden, and unable to make himself function.

"Dude, get your shit together or she's not gonna make it." Jin smacks the side of his brothers head, snapping him out of his grief-stricken daze.

"Can you save her?" He asks rubbing the tears from his eyes.

"Not a chance. But I can keep her alive for a minute until we get to the clubhouse. Call the doc, tell him to meet us there." Jin orders, having much more clarity at this moment. "And get the boys to bring the car around. We're going to need a few of us to move her."

Yoongi follows Jin's lead, wiping the blood from his hands onto his pants to dial.

"Think of it this way," Jin smiles shortly, trying to soothe Yoongi's fear and panic with an ill-timed joke. "If she survives, at least she'll have proved she's Bangtan."

[thesunshinebunny]

Can I ask for the dorm leaders reacting to their S / O asking them to join them in the shower for the first time???

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, oooookkkk, I can see what you did there dear anon.

In my great humble imagination, I'd like to take a dip in the huge bathtub that Kalim surely has in Scarabia. Let me dream, I like to relax in big bathtubs with foam, bubbles, music and incense. Before we begin, I warn you that all characters are +18.

Let’s goooooooooooooo

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

Riddle

Oh dear, you don't know what you just did.

It was a decent proposal to be honest, you just wanted to spend a quality moment with our Queen, but I think the smoke got into his head.

"Riddle, I'm going to take a shower, would you like to join me?"

Puff red as a tomato and about to explode.

You stared at him in disbelief, until you realized your words. Maybe Riddle wasn't ready for that big step.

You entered the bathroom alone, but not before asking for forgiveness.

Now you left Riddle alone with his thoughts, that's much worse.

Your intention was to take a short shower, but with the event that had just occurred, you were eating your head as the water ran down your body.

The longer it took you to get out, the more your anxiety ate you up inside. You would have panicked if you hadn't heard the door open and close almost inaudibly.

Riddle stepped into the shower, standing behind you and circling your waist.

"Please don't turn around, it's still too embarrassing for me, but I can't help but feel calm right now"

Neither of you spoke or moved the rest of the time you stayed in the shower, even forgetting to wash properly. But that 'mistake' was the beginning of multiple long shared showers.

Leona

The lazy lion here wasn’t in his plans to get into the water, much less shower. If you had asked getting into the lounge’s pool, maybe he would have considered it.

He just lay on his bed, about to fall asleep, not caring about your figure in the middle of the room. He didn't care that you were getting irritated every second.

"I don't have the need to bathe, go alone"

He heard you leave and thought he was going to sleep peacefully before you get out of the shower… until an impact on his head dislodged him.

You had thrown dirt all over his hair, spreading over his chest and the bed.

“Now you have a reason to shower. You're dirty"

I recommend you to run to the shower, because the look Leona gave you… I highly doubt that you will make it out alive.

Arriving at the threshold, Leona grabbed you by the legs, placing you on his shoulder and getting under the faucet.

This fucker turned on the shower without letting you remove your clothes first, ending up drenched.

"Ah, my mistake, I think you're a little wet. Let me take off your clothes"

The malicious smirk on his face didn’t give you confidence, and didn’t disappear even when you were both naked under the water.

“You have courage to fill me and my bed with dirt, did you want to take a shower? Now you are going to clean me"

Ah… worth it?

Azul

Did he hear you well? Do you want to take a shower with him?

Oh dear sea witch, help him, he is about to have a neurism.

Azul wasn’t against your proposal itself, he was very concerned about his physique.

And what if you don't like what you see? would you are disappointed? And if it disgusts you to look at him naked or semi naked?

Thousands of questions ran through his head, making it impossible for him to give you an answer. If you looked closely, you might even see smoke coming out of his ears from the gears in his head moving; even tears were threatening to leak out of his eyes.

You placed your hands on both sides of his face, "Come with me"

You guided him into the bathroom, placing him under the shower head. You let go of your octopus and turned on the hot water before he could say anything.

Both were burned by the touch of the hot water, even Azul wanted to get out of there, but you stopped him by wrapping your arms around him.

The warmth of your arms on his torso made his heart skip a beat. He never thought he was going to be able to have this kind of intimacy with you, and I'm not talking about nudity.

It was literally like being in the rain in the middle of the courtyard, but in solitude inside Azul's room ... rather in his bathroom ... with clothes that were beginning to cling to the body.

"Do you feel better? Do you think you're ready to take off your clothes and really give us a hot shower?"

Azul never said a yes so fast in his life.

Kalim

A shower? A simple shower? What is that? Kalim only knows how to take big baths in tubs that could be the size of a house.

Either way he said yes, don’t be alarmed.

Wasting no time, he led you to the bathroom in his room, which you could swear was the same dimensions as the bedroom, apart from being very resplendent.

Kalim was very respectful at all times, he gave you your time to undress, he wasn’t invasive and he turned around when you asked him and thus enter the water.

Our sun here took the trouble to decorate the bathtub when you weren't looking, now the whole place was decorated with incense and scented candles from the Land of Hot Sands.

Even if you walked carefully, you might come across a few gold coins on the marble floor of the tub.

All very beautiful, but I think I would be very overwhelmed with such extravagance. And that is also your case, it’s better to tell Kalim directly.

Like before, don't worry, Kalim would understand your feelings a 1000% and if closing your eyes for the entire bath time makes you feel better, then Kalim would be willing to snuggle you on his chest and wash your head himself.

He ’s a gentleman, what can I say.

But, if you feel comfortable with all that, then I advise you to start a bubble war. Who said bathing with your partner has to be serious?

"Take care of your bubble ammunition, you wouldn't want to be left with nothing and for me to tickle you"

You made a mess in the whole bathroom, be careful when you leave, there is soap and water everywhere.

Vil

Oh no no no, dear, no dear.

One does not shower with Vil, one BATHES with Vil.

Like Kalim, Vil takes his bath quite seriously. He needs to follow his skin routine very meticulously and for that he needs oils, essences and… other things that my poor ass couldn't buy all the time, even if I wanted to.

His bathtub is not as gigantic as Kalim's, but it is much larger than average.

If for any reason you are embarrassed to bathe naked, don't panic. Vil has exclusively for you a bathrobe that you can use in the water, and one for him too obviously.

Prepare for a full-body massage session. The oils are not for decoration, they are to soften the skin and Vil would give the best massages of your life, you cannot argue with me

By the way, you also wash your hair with an equally expensive shampoo. There is no middle ground here: either you take a simple shower in your bedroom, or you go big with Vil.

That reminds me, the moment you take the first bath with this Queen of beauty, you have just signed a contract (not one of Azul's) in which it stipulates that from now on, every day you will bathe with it, end of discussion.

Vil may at first have been a bit ecstatic to the idea of ​​you giving him massages with his special oil and washing his hair; he has a very meticulous routine that he adheres to to the letter and your inexperienced fingers would not do enough magic.

Buuut, nothing like a good class in the middle of the bathtub to give good results.

In summary, taking a bath with Vil is like having a full day at the Spa, completely free ... well, almost free 😉

Idia

Idia.exe stopped working.

Jokes aside, Idia stopped reacting for a few seconds, he didn't even remember to breathe.

I can't tell if Idia is one of that kind of weeb that doesn't bathe, I want to believe that he does, please make me believe that he does, I implore you

Taking a shower with Idia can be a bit… embarrassing, mostly on his part. He isn’t used to so much human contact and that you ask him for such a proposal, is to get out of his comfort zone.

Nor could I tell if, when in contact with water, Idia's hair would evaporate, like the scene in Hercules blowing Hades’s head XD.

If so, it would be a lot of fun to watch, but you would have to reassure him because he would surely be much more embarrassed.

If that's not the case, maybe he would be around as long as the intimacy last with red hair, someone at some point mentioned Idia with red hair and now I can't help but imagine it

Many caresses from your part, hugging his torso from behind. Like Riddle, he would surely not be prepared to look at you for the first time or for you to see him.

Trie to calm the waters by asking him about his new inventions.

Also avoids telling Ortho all this bamboleo. He is too pure for this type of situation, let's not fill his head with indecent images of his brother.

Malleus

What a peculiar proposal, but it will be honored without a doubt.

He may have asked Lilia for instructions to abide by your proposal as well as possible… and Big Bear Mama Lilia may have asked him thousands of questions about it, perhaps embarrassing him a bit, but we will never know.

I have a slight suspicion that Malleus has a very rococo-style bathroom, in dark colors, but not necessarily black and green, do you understand?

Did you know those old tubs, from the Marie Antoinette years? Well, Malleus has one. He also has a shower, but to be honest, I see Malleus as a passionate lover, so the shower wouldn’t be in the game.

But, if you feel uncomfortable with the bathtub because it seems too much or you can’t step in (because, let's face it, hardly a person enters in that marble piece of furniture) then Malleus has no problem using the shower.

Whatever your decision is, the moment will be magical, and I mean it very seriously.

Our dragon daddy here would invoke any kind of magic to make the evening more enjoyable, like the little lights that fly around when Malleus is about to appear or disappear.

I recommend you don’t go around telling your intentions of take a shower with Malleus, we know that a certain lemon green hair is hanging around the corridors and he wouldn’t hesitate to listen to a conversation that has his young master as it’s center.

An uncomfortable moment if Sebek enter the bathroom screaming as always, demanding an explanation as to why a simple human is bathing with his young master.

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.24

What She’s Done

05/19/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader         Word Count: 5,590

Warnings: language, angst, fluff, Loki being the best bro, pregnancy problems

A/N: I’m sorry this is so late. I’m not going to explain too much as I want the focus to be on the chapter but I’m feeling better. Hope you all enjoy this one and I hope you can forgive me. haha As always, if you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT repost my work on any other sites or blogs!

REBLOGS are always welcome!

The sound of the fanfare outside is muted. The heavy doors of the main room are shut.

Thor sits on his large steel, silver, and wooden throne. Normally, your own throne would have been moved into the room so that you could sit beside him. Today however, he wants you standing.

Loki stands on Thor’s left, his hands moving across his tablet at godly speeds. He’s busy. Always busy. While Thor has the final say, Loki sets everything up for him and comes to him with the choices that must be made.

He’s indispensable and both you and Thor know it. So, when the large doors are thrown open and Thor takes his hand off of your lower waist where he’d been massaging the knots away, as Ambassador Coates walks forward, you glare right at him and his judging distrustful look at the sight of Asgard’s Prince.

The music outside, large horns that sound more like a call to battle, slowly die and are completely cut off when the doors are shut. Just outside you know two Valkyrie are standing guard.

Inside, two more regular guards stand at attention.

“Ambassador Coates, I’m glad you saw fit to accept my invitation,” Thor says casually.

One wouldn’t know that Thor is angry. He sounds so welcoming. The charm he’s exuding is one you’ve never seen him use before but Loki doesn’t seem surprised by it. Instead, Loki’s lips seem to curve upwards a little in the teeniest smirk.

The Ambassador does as he’s expected and once he’s near the foot of the raised wooden floor where Thor’s throne sits, he gives a quick bow meeting first Thor’s singular eye and then your own blank gaze.

Keeping your anger in check is easy. You’re able to wipe your face of all emotion and it’s a skill now that you’re glad you learned in the orphanage you’d grown up in. Never letting anyone know how sad or hurt you are was key to your survival.

“Your Majesties,” the ambassador states, the irritation in his voice loud and clear for all of you to hear.

It looks like Thor’s plan to roll out the red carpet as if the ambassador were visiting royalty got his message across clearly.

“I hope I find you in good health? Are you faring well with the pregnancy?”

You don’t answer him. You simply stare.

“We’re well enough,” Thor begins. “Forgive me in my haste to get to the point, Ambassador Coates but as I hear it from my brother, you have been making it very difficult for Her Majesty the Queen of Asgard to meet with you, despite her warnings that what she had to share was imperative to the safety of Earth and human-kind.”

The ambassador blinks. He doesn’t attempt to speak or react in any other way than to show that he’s processing Thor’s words. All signs of irritation at his welcome gone.

“Would you say that is a fair statement for her having sent, what was it? Four emails and three phone calls?” Thor asks Loki.

“Seven emails and four phone calls,” he corrects.

“Right. Seven and four.”

“Your Majesty…”

“I think you have been under the impression that my marriage to my wife has been one in name only. She’s Queen but not really? Right? She has no power or authority? Is that what you think?”

Ambassador Coates swallows hard, sweat beading along his temples. He’s not a stout man. In fact, most women would think him good looking. Nothing to Thor or Loki, but for a human he’s handsome. His sweating in this climate makes no sense unless he’s suddenly stressed.

Maybe you shouldn’t feel bad but you do just a bit. You can’t imagine what he must feel being scrutinized by Thor, yourself, and Loki. Clearly he did something wrong and now he knows it.

“Your Majesties, I-I meant no offense. Unfortunately this is a busy time for myself and my colleagues and-”

“We have no time for your excuses,” Thor sits up straighter and draws his legs a little closer together before he licks his lips and holds his hand out towards you.

Taking it, you watch him get up and then he helps you sit before checking on you, “Better, cherub?”

You nod, looking up at him as he caresses the side of your head.

“The only reason you hold the job that you currently do is because my people and I chose to settle on Earth. You might say you owe it to us. Perhaps you’d still have been employed should we not have come here but from what I understand, your salary is considerably more than what it would have been were you in some other position.

“You are married and have children, too. Don’t you?” Thor asks.

“Y-Yes, Your Majesty.”

“So, it’s important to keep your job. Isn’t it?”

He says nothing, this time simply looking down at Thor’s feet.

“My wife is not just Queen in name but she has been exemplary in her devotion of ruling the people of Asgard at my side with honor and grace. The people love her. I’m not sure what made you think you could slight an Asgardian Queen but let me be clear. If our people should find out that there was such disrespect, believe me when I tell you that the loss of your job would be the last thing you’d have to worry about.”

“And just to be clear,” Loki cuts in as Thor’s taking a breath. “My brother is not threatening you. This is a statement of fact. We Asgardians are fiercely loyal and easily offended.”

You like that Ambassador Coates isn’t glaring at Loki anymore. The fear in his eyes is worrying, but you also know that your husband and brother would do nothing to actually hurt this idiot. They’re just making sure he knows where he stands.

Thor crosses his large arms across his wide chest. Though you don’t think he means it to be intimidating, you can see from the ambassador’s gulp that Thor’s minor flex has great impact.

Gods, he’s huge.

“As it just so happens, aside from being a Queen without fault to this kingdom, the Queen of Asgard has seen fit to continue to perform in her duties as the bridge between our two peoples. She refuses to let us make decisions for the human race and was attempting to contact you to warn you of impending dangers. And you, what was the phrase, love?”

“Blew me off.”

“That’s right, you blew her off. And yet we welcome you with respect and grace.”

“Your Majesties,” the ambassador begins, but Thor holds up his hand and he stops.

“Let this be a lesson in humility for you. I love Earth and for that reason alone, in addition to the fact that this is my wife’s home and now mine, we will forgive this lapse of judgement on your part,” you’ve never heard Thor sound more like a King than in this moment.

It’s also one of those moments where you really want to drag him back to the room and get him naked. He’s never been this attractive.

The ambassador bows his head, taking his punishment with dignity.

“Forgive me, your Majesties,” he begins to say something, but then stops himself.

“Speak your mind, Ambassador Coates,” Loki urges, seeing something you and Thor don’t.

“I merely wish to apologize for my lack of forethought. I was not the only one dismissing Her Majesty the Queen of Asgard but will be sure to rectify the behavior with my colleagues when I return.”

Loki smiles, turning his gentle gaze on you as he realizes that you were right. It wasn’t misogyny. Not on Ambassador Coates’s part. That might not be the case for everyone though.

“Perhaps I should schedule meetings with your colleagues so that we might have a quick talk about the expectations we have for our relationship going forward?”

Loki’s threat is veiled heavily, but Ambassador Coates still picks up on it and his face goes a little pale.

“I don’t think that’s necessary, Your Highness. I will pass along the sentiments, if you will let me.”

There’s a burning satisfaction in your chest. Something about watching Ambassador Coates finally show not just you but Loki the respect he deserves makes you so happy.

“My Queen?” Loki prompts you, looking to you to wait for your reply.

“I think we can give him a chance to express our disappointment for us. He is our ambassador. Isn’t that right Ambassador Coates?”

Coates looks relieved, pressing his hand to his chest as he bows his head to you again.

It’s a strange sensation to see the gratitude on his face and his posture relaxes as a result. You literally just did that. You gave him some forgiveness and it really does make all the difference.

“I will support you and the Asgardian throne with more fervor from here on out, Your Majesty.”

“Cool,” you shrug, reaching to place your hand on the back of Thor’s neck, absolutely beaming at him.

He chuckles and puts his hand back on your waist, giving you a gentle squeeze and shake.

“Are you happy, my cherub?”

You nod, unable to contain the smile that stretches across your lips and you lean into him.

“Good. My job here is done then. Now, I have some things to do,” Thor rises and moves around until he’s facing you and pulls you up into a chaste but loving kiss.

With a caress to your belly, he looks at Loki and nods.

“I’ll leave the rest to you and my Queen, brother.”

“Sif will meet you by the docks,” Loki nods.

“Wonderful. I’ll see you later, love. If you need me, just tell Loki and I will come running.”

“‘Kay,” you smile.

Thor turns back to your guest and moves towards him, clapping his shoulder as he passes, “Do better, Ambassador Coates. Do better.”

All three of you watch Thor strut for the large front doors. The guard opens it for him and when he’s out of sight, the doors shutting behind him, you move to take your seat on the throne. Loki scoots a little closer to your side but stands with his tablet ready.

“Now, I think we should get down to the reason I wanted to meet with you,” you start and Ambassador Coates stands a little straighter. “But...I don’t know about you but this whole towering over you sitting on a throne thing is not really my style and feels a little forced. Let’s go to my sitting room.”

Loki smirks as Ambassador Coates relaxes a little more and even smiles, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

As the three of you walk up the steps to the right of the throne room to climb up to the small sitting room that had been set aside for you and your private entertaining, you steal a few glances at Ambassador Coates.

He still looks a little rattled and you stroke your stomach, the long silk dress you’re wearing, ruffled skirt and loose waist giving it a soft flowing quality is still noticeable and Ambassador Coates steals a few glances.

“Didn’t think I was really pregnant?”

He blanches, “What? N-No, Your Majesty! I had no reason to doubt you.”

“It’s okay. A lot of people didn’t believe it until I came back from my little vacation. I just wanted to make sure that it would take. We’re all so dependent on this little one and a lot is riding on my having Thor’s heir quickly.”

“No one who has seen you rule since your marriage would doubt your commitment to this union, Y/N,” Loki assures you gently.

He’s your number one supporter and you’re so damn grateful for him.

All three of you fall into silence but with your heavy belly and your slow walk, it stretches on.

“I’m sorry about Thor’s enthusiasm to put you in your place,” you give Coates a small apologetic smile but he quickly shakes his head. “He can be a little passionate.”

“No, Your Majesty, the mistake was mine. I should have paid you the respect you deserved. It’s-You work in an environment for too long and you begin to adopt certain behaviors that you should know aren’t acceptable but when everyone is doing it and-I was wrong. I can’t blame Thor for setting me straight.”

“Thank you, for understanding,” you shrug.

“Thank you for not holding it against me and letting me do better.”

It takes only another few minutes to reach the sitting room and you make a beeline for the small loveseat before dropping into it and leaning back against the soft plush cushions.

“Whew, I probably should have done my research on how pregnancy would affect all aspects of my life before agreeing to it,” a joke and Coates gets it because he looks respectfully amused.

Loki scoffs, “With Thor, I doubt you’d have had much choice in the matter. He is also believed to be a God of fertility, you know?”

“Loki!”

The small shock on your face really makes Coates laugh this time and your neck, ears, and cheeks burn.

Not wanting to drag this meeting out for a long time you clear your throat and Loki sits down on the armchair beside you opposite Coates’s own seat.

“I should really be more formal, but I’m not kidding when I tell you that this pregnancy is taking a toll on me.”

“Think nothing of it, Your Majesty,” Coates assures you.

“I’m not sure what you’ll be able to do with this information and maybe it’ll be best if, with your help, you can get a meeting in front of both the United Nations and NATO scheduled for me to speak to them directly.

“Thor and Loki would be there with me, of course, but it was my idea to even bring this to your attention.”

“I will be of any assistance that I can be,” Coates nods, face serious and attentive.

“We wanted to wait until we had more concrete information to give Earth’s leaders but our Queen is adamant that an early warning is better than detailed information,” Loki explains.

“Is the Earth in danger?” Coates asks, worried now.

“Sort of,” you nod. “Truth is, we don’t know. What we do know is that there’s an energy signature that we’ve been monitoring for months. Almost my entire first year of marriage. What we do know is that the energy signal was strong enough to bring Doctor Foster here to look for an explanation and my brother-in-law has kept his eye on it too. It’s familiar to him and not unthreatening so we’ve been preparing watch stations across the globe. We have one in North and South America, Australia, almost every continent so that we won’t miss any kind of danger that comes falling from the sky.

“We don’t want a repeat of New York,” you look at Loki and Coates looks at him too but neither of you have any kind of judgement in your expressions.

Maybe a little for Coates, but he quickly turns his gaze back on you.

“I wanted to give the people of Earth time to prepare for that kind of attack. The Avengers are already on the case and have been helping build up a defense but they can only do so much. Their focus is going to be on the bigger fight if it comes to that. I want to give us a fighting chance on the ground where regular people are often the ones to get hurt and suffer from big threats like this.

��I don’t want the casualties to look like they have in the past when something or someone threatens us. So, I just want to give world leaders a briefing on what we’ve found, what we’ve built in defense, and give them the resources to keep track of what we’re keeping track of.

“We’re at a unique advantage with not only Asgard’s knowledge, technology, and resources. We’re still a growing nation and what we do have is lots of strength. I’ve been thinking about it a lot and while the Valkyrie have to stay here to protect my family, we have a sizable guard that can be split into a few regiments to send out to the places that will need it most and still have enough forces to protect New Asgard.”

Coates is thinking hard, then his hand dives into his pocket and he pulls out his phone, “I’ll start making calls and can probably have something set up the day after tomorrow. If the threat is serious enough to make you worry about us humans this much, I think the sooner the better.”

“It is serious enough,” Loki assures him. “Even if it turns into nothing, we would all rather have done everything we could to minimize damage to both the humans of Earth and New Asgard.”

“Then I’ll get started. Is there any kind of data that I should see in order to convince my bosses?”

You look to Loki and reach out, placing your hand on his arm, “Loki, take Ambassador Coates down to the dungeon and let him get a look at anything we’ve gathered in the monitoring station. You’ll forgive me for not coming with you, Ambassador Coates? I really can’t stand walking around much longer today.”

“Of course, please do not mind me,” he assures you, giving you a small bow.

“Shall I have your lunch brought in here?” Loki asks.

“Please?”

He nods and with a gesture at Ambassador Coates, leads the way to the door.

“When you’ve made any significant progress, I will be in here. Can you come and let me know?”

Coates nods, the phone now pressed to his ear, “As soon as I know something, Your Majesty.”

They leave you in an appropriate rush and you relax against the cushions of your sofa feeling like a small burden’s been lifting off your shoulders.

You’ve done your part now. You’ve warned your Ambassador, now it’s his job to convince his higher-ups and hopefully they listen.

Estrid does eventually come with your lunch and you eat slowly, thinking through your options for Coates and the rest of the governments of the world. Splitting the Asgardian army up isn’t ideal, but they pack a punch. Even just a handful of soldiers in a city would make a difference.

You finish eating and you finish your tea. You get up to walk a little around the sitting room but as the afternoon wears on, you start to feel suffocated inside and Estrid happily goes with you down to your gardens.

Most of your plants have been well taken care of.

“His Majesty made sure that we kept all of your plants healthy for you,” Estrid informs you, moving to walk a few steps behind you as you walk around with a small watering can.

His consideration brings a smile to your lips.

Thor really can be so sweet. So loving. You hate that some of the time from your first year was stolen by what happened with Jane, but it couldn’t be helped. He had to discover what it would mean to lose you and you had to learn that depending on yourself is still just as important married as it was when you had no one.

Maybe it’s even more important now? You can get lost in your relationship with Thor and while that’s super tempting, to have your world start and end with Thor and your married life together, you are still your own person.

You have goals for your career and shared dreams with him too. You’ve got your hobbies and Thor has his. Both of you needed the distance.

Despite that, even though you know that the space was good for both of you, even if it hurt like hell to get it the way you two did, you’re actually really happy to be back home.

As you reach over to water one of your taller butterfly bushes, you gasp and pull your arm back against your body as a small sharp pain rocks your senses and blinds your vision for a split second.

“Your Majesty?” Estrid hurries forward.

“I’m fine, Estrid,” you assure her, waiting another second to see if the pain will come back.

Reaching down you rub the spot on your tummy where you’d felt it and wonder if maybe the baby is just kicking especially hard today.

“Shall I fetch the doctors?”

“No, really. I’m fine, Estrid.”

You move to the next plant and water a few more as you head towards the small greenhouse with the Asgardian plants you’re still trying to perfect the care for but as you reach for the door, you double over as a shooting pain stretches across the same side as before then moves down onto the base of your belly.

The watering can falls from your hand as you reach out to brace yourself against the door and hits the floor with a clunk as the water goes all over your flats, soaking your feet.

“Your Majesty!”

Estrid races to you, hands placed on your back and arm to support you as she looks to steal a glance at your face.

With your eyes shut tight, you groan and whimper as the pain just gets sharper.

“Estrid…” it takes a moment to catch your breath. “Get the doctors.”

“Guard!” Estrid calls, forcing you to let go of the door so that she can lead you to a bench. “Guard, send for the doctor!”

“Thor,” you whimper, sitting slowly and gasping as the pain intensifies. “Get Thor.”

“I’ll send for him, my Queen,” Estrid assures you and now that you’re seated, she leaves you to run and hurry the guard.

“What’s wrong?”

“Loki?” you call breathlessly, searching for his face for the comfort you know it’ll give you to have him close.

“Here,” he calls out for you and hurries around the corner. “I’m here. What’s happened? What’s wrong?”

He hovers over you, leaning over, his hands carefully pressed to your cheek and the other on your stomach.

“It hurts,” you sob without tears, “Loki…”

“It’s alright,” he promises. “You and my nephew will be fine. Come on, put your arm around my neck.”

His certainty does help and you get your arm around him. With ease he squats down and lifts you into his arms and with you moves back into the palace.

~~~~~~~~~~

It feels like a long time when you open your eyes again. You’re dizzy a little and weak. Your body feels heavy and it’s a struggle to sit up.

Looking around, you realize you’re in your bedroom alone. The sky outside is dark and the room is dim with only the fireplace lit to cast a warm orange glow around the dark room.

“Loki?” you try, remembering him carrying you when he found you in the garden.

No movement.

“Thor? Estrid?” You’d sent her to get the doctors and to get Thor. Had the doctors come?

Thor’s favorite armchair is placed by your bed, angled towards you so he must have been in here sitting by you waiting for you to wake up.

With a heavy sigh, you realize that he must have been out of his mind with worry when he heard what happened. Is the baby okay?

You put your hands on your tummy and wait for movement. He does wiggle around a little. Normal for you and him and that makes you feel better about the pain that had come out of nowhere.

It takes you too long to get up and out of bed. You’re in your nightgown, a long simple piece with modern touches but it’s also very similar to some of the long flowing white ones you remember seeing in history books.

Taking extra time to stretch up onto your feet just in case the pain comes back, you breathe a sigh of relief when you take your first step and find that you’re okay.

“Oh, baby,” you reach down and rub the sides of your bump. “You scared me, rascal.”

You know that you should probably stay still. Staying in bed is probably what your Doctors suggested but the empty chair has you worried about Thor and what state he might be in.

So instead of staying where you should, you open your bedroom door and step out into the hallway.

The spots to either side where there’s usually a guard are empty.

You look up towards the other end of the hall and see that the two soldiers have moved to stand at the center of the hall, shoulders tense and obviously distracted. Further down, at what you think they must be staring at is a grouping of palace staff. People you recognize. Estrid stands among them, frowning at the small crack in the door through which pours a line of bright white light from the sitting room you share with Thor.

Did something happen?

As you pass the two guards the jump and hurry back to the sides of your bedroom door where they belong. Their flurry of movement must have drawn the attention of the others standing by the door. They also seem to jump, look shamed and worried, before they move away from the door and head in all different directions to get back to work.

One of the maids that passes you curtsies before she scurries off stealing a look of regret at you.

Estrid stands rigid, hands clasped to her front before she steps back a bit to give you room.

“What is it, Estrid?”

She doesn’t say anything. She looks upset, her lips fixed into a severe line, eyes full of anger as she shakes her head.

“Where’s Loki? Thor?” you check, stopping by her and she only looks at the door.

You can hear muted voices from inside and your heart begins to pound.

Is it the doctors? Are Thor and Loki getting bad news? The baby was just moving though!

Your baby has to be okay. Healthy even. Nothing was wrong before you came back home.

Clinging to your bump, you move towards the crack in the door and with the breath leaving your lungs in fear of what you’ll overhear you just go ahead and push the door open because eavesdropping hasn’t served you well in the past.

If something needs to be said, you want to hear it without hiding.

Of course, what you aren’t expecting to find is Loki facing you by the long sofa where Thor usually lounges, resting his head on your lap. Behind Loki, what must have given him that frustrated look on his face is Thor, Jane clinging to his arm as she finishes speaking the thought you just interrupted as they all turn to look at you.

“-can’t help it. I love you. I-”

The absolute fury that engulfs you is indescribable.

For one year-long second, you inhale and a million thoughts cross your mind. The one you grasp onto, in favor of the ones involving murder and hurt and violence, is the one of your baby.

This kind of anger is bad for him. You can’t let it consume you. Not when you need to stay good for him.

Loki looks down at his feet, disappointment and shame overcoming his pale, handsome features.

Thor quickly jerks his hand out of Jane’s grip and moves towards you but stops when you speak only a few feet away.

“Jane?”

She swallows hard, then frowns, “I only came to warn Thor that the readings have gotten stronger. I-”

“I don’t care why you’re here. I only care that you are here. You aren’t welcome in my house, near my husband, or on any piece of land in this Kingdom,” you take a step towards them and stop as you stroke your belly to remind you to keep calm. “I want you gone. Out of my home, away from my people, and if you trespass here again, I’ll have you thrown in jail. You aren’t welcome in New Asgard.”

“You can’t ban me from an entire Kingdom,” she argues, moving forward towards you.

“Try me,” you warn. “Out of respect for what you meant to Thor in the past, I’ve kept your name clean. I haven’t told anyone what you tried to do here, but here you are trying again. Now either you want me to trash you, or you seriously can’t take a hint.

“We don’t want you here.”

“Thor invited me himself, if he didn’t want me here, why would he do that?”

You grind your teeth, again stroking your tummy, “You’re right. I don’t know why my husband would invite you here when I have made it very clear that you aren’t welcome. Whatever the reason, he and I will discuss it together, because we’re married. Husband and wife. Until the day I die, at least, since he’ll outlive me by two thousand years.

“And whatever you two had in the past is gone. So, get out or I’ll have you thrown out.”

She opens her mouth to argue and you take two steps towards her, “I might be pregnant, but I can still do plenty of damage in the minute that it’ll take Thor and Loki to pull me off of you. Please, say something. Please, please I beg you. Give me an excuse. I have a really bad temper and I am dying to express myself. Please.”

Jane turns towards Thor, waiting for some kind of rebuttal from him but he’s got his eyes trained on you and you alone. The shame on his face, the agony of what you finding them all here might mean is not lost on him.

When he doesn’t say anything, Loki clears his throat, “I think it’s time to go, Jane.”

His urging helps and with a look of hurt and disbelief, she tears her eyes off of Thor and stomps out past you.

You watch her go, Estrid scurrying after her to lead her out the back instead of the front where she might be spotted.

“Loki?”

He turns to you, waiting.

“I don’t want anyone to know she was here. Anyone other than the group of palace staff that was standing by the door fucking listening to what was being said in here. Can you get Heimdall and send her home that way?”

“I’m on it,” he assures you and hurries past you, disappearing into the palace.

“I-” Thor begins.

“Don’t!”

He shuts his mouth.

“Not here.”

Turning, you lead the way back to the bedroom and the guard opens the door for you, Thor following closely behind.

As the door shuts you don’t stop until you’re sitting on your bed, hands stroking your belly as you shut your eyes and try to calm yourself.

“I asked you for one thing. One thing, Thor. I asked you not to make a fool of me. Seven people from our staff were listening to you and Jane. Seven! By tomorrow that’ll be twenty and by the weekend the tabloids will have picked up on the story.”

“I’m sorry,” he starts but you growl in frustration.

“I stood in front of our people and told them that Jane Foster was not welcome in our Kingdom and you walked her right in! I-I can’t do this. I can’t do this right now.”

You get up and point at the large doors.

“I need you to get out. I need space and I don’t care why you let her in. I don’t care why you’d make me look like such a stupid fucking joke I only know that you did and I’m done. I need you out. Don’t come looking for me. When I’m ready, if I’m ever ready to talk to you again, I’ll find you. Until then, leave me alone.”

“Cherub-”

“NO! You don’t get to do this shit, Thor-You don’t get to undermine me and bring that woman back into our lives and still get to explain yourself after she lied to you about being pregnant, and making a mockery of our marriage. You don’t get a say. You get out of my room, you keep away from me, you wait until I’m ready to hear you. Until I’m not angry anymore. Until I’m not hurting anymore.

“I don’t understand what it is about this woman that you just-can’t you see what she is? What she’s done? Don’t you understand why she can’t be here? Don’t you get-You know what? Just get out. I don’t care. I don’t care if you get it or not. Get out.”

“Y/N, please, I-”

“GET OUT!”

The silence that follows your outburst is interrupted only by the crackling of the fire. In the dim light, Thor’s face is grave and broken. You can’t feel bad for him though.

As much as you love him, as much as you wish this hadn’t just happened, as much as you hate to see him hurt, you can’t ignore the pain in your own chest, drowning you again in betrayal.

This is why you’d wanted to keep your distance. This agony is why you’d wanted to keep him at arm’s length.

This is why you can only depend on yourself.

Eventually, Thor bows his head and with heavy feet, he leaves your room shutting the door behind him leaving you to sob and throw pillows in anger.

[neoculturetravesty]

The waiting game

Image taken from here.

Pairing: Kun x Reader Genre: smut, pwp, it’s literally just filth with a tiny bit of fluff at the end. Warnings: 18+, Daddy Kun, sub reader, daddy/ddlg kink, praise kink, bondage (handcuffs and ankle restraints), fingering, overstimulation with a vibrator, orgasm denial, anal plug, humiliation, spanking, unprotected sex, squirting, facial, fluffy aftercare. Word Count: 3.2k words of the most pwp I’ve ever written. There is no plot whatsoever.

Summary: “Will my baby be okay to bend over like this for a while?” you hear him ask behind you. You turn your head just a little to reply “Yes, Daddy.” 

A/N: Kind of wanted to write some absurdist, slightly unrealistic, fantastical, pornographic smut. And it so happened that Kun ended up becoming the vehicle for this piece. 

“Daddy, please…” you look up at Kun, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you whimper.

“I know, baby, I know.” He takes your face in his hands and wipes away at your tears with the pads of his thumbs. He leans in and gives you a healing, nurturing kiss. “Daddy knows you can take it. Daddy knows you’re his brave girl.”

You whimper and your eyebrows knit together as you look up at him to sob. You’re pretty sure you look anything but brave... you probably look like the most pathetic girl to ever exist. But you can’t keep your composure any longer and you suppose that is what Kun wanted. He wanted to strip you bare so you weren’t hiding from him. So you were showing him your true self, your most vulnerable self, your most naked self. 

It’s why he had put you in this position for what you’re sure has been an hour. On all fours on a table top, panties pulled down to your thighs, a vibrator attached to your pussy, a shiny pink butt plug inserted in your ass. Your tits were just covered enough by a barely there camisole that said ‘Daddy’s Princess’ across the chest in bright pink letters. Each of your ankles was tied to the corresponding leg of the table. Erotic handcuffs with black leather straps were binding your delicate wrists like bracelets. Your back was beautifully arched and your chest was risen tall because that’s how Kun liked it. 

“My princess looks so pretty like this.” He had complimented when he had finished his handiwork and stepped back to look at you. But it was getting harder and harder to stay pretty for him. The vibrator bound to your pussy was buzzing at an agonizing pace--not moving any slower to give you a break, not moving any faster to give you relief. You had, at one point, ground your hips against it to get some variation in friction and you think you must have lost your posture in doing so because it had resulted in Kun giving powerful smacks to your bare ass which made the plug jolt inside you, making you see stars.

Now your ass was red and hot as you struggled to keep your back arched. 

“Press down to absorb the pleasure, princess. Make yourself pretty for Daddy.” Kun had taught you and that’s what you had been trying to do for the past few minutes. But now it was getting to be too much. The slow, tormenting buzzing on your core was making it drip embarrassingly. You were pretty sure your pussy had engorged to maybe twice it’s usual size. Plus, any time you clenched and unclenched around the plug; it made lubricant ooze out of you, because Kun had used way too much and asked you to hold it in like a good girl. You couldn’t see it, but you felt the mess your holes were creating. The only upside was that Kun had placed soft pillows beneath your hands and knees.

You felt vulnerable like this. Wearing a barely there shirt, with your panties pulled down to your thighs. Maybe you would’ve felt less humiliated if Kun had simply taken them all the way off. But you were so exposed and your need was building but not being fulfilled. You were so sexually frustrated and so fucking needy that it was making you cry. But Kun kept stalking your body. Circling around as if you were a lab experiment he was studying, as if he was taking notes on how your body was reacting to each sensation. Every now and then, he would press his palm to the small of your back to put you back in his desired state. Or he’d wiggle and smoothen your panties so they laid smooth and stretched around your thighs. He’d fix your top when all your squirming had made it ride over your tits. He’d push the butt plug back in if you had pushed it out. When would he stop? You didn’t know and it drove you crazy. Maybe that’s what he wanted. To break you down bit by bit through this waiting game. To get to the deepest parts of you that no man had ever seen. To get you to show your true submissive self where you would want nothing else but your Daddy for relief.

Right now, though, he was by your head and he wasn’t fixing you anymore. All his attention was on calming you. When you let out a wail and cry so much that your chest heaves, he presses a long, lingering kiss to your forehead and says,

“Just a bit longer, baby girl. You’re doing so well.” He takes your face in his hands and looks at you with nurturing eyes. But it only makes you look back and cry to him.

“Daddy, pleasseeee… I can’t take this any more! I need to come!” you are barely able to word it out between your sobs.

Kun sighs and grabs a stool and adjusts its height so he is at level with your face when he sits. He takes your face in his hands once more.

“Kiss Daddy to take your mind off of it, princess. But if you want it to stop, you’ll have to say your color.” 

You think about it for a moment. You had come this far. Your pussy was aching and sensitive and your asshole was swollen. Your back was aching a bit and the makeup you had spent nearly an hour doing was probably spoiled. You’re pretty sure the mascara is streaked around your eyes from all the crying. Your hair was probably messy, too, because Kun had grabbed it at one point. But you had come this far. Kun had never been one to hold back his rewards if you’d pleased him in these waiting challenges. And those rewards were always so toe-curlingly bountiful that they made every moment of sexual agony worth it. 

So you end up kissing him though the decision makes you sob into the kiss, like you knew you that you yourself had chosen the torture whereas Kun had offered you a way out. You’re sniffling as you absorb the slow torment in your pussy and Kun kisses you deep. He swirls his tongue in your mouth till you’re drooling down your chin but he doesn’t care. He loved all your messes. He loved that he made you this way: leaking and drooling and crying and submissive. His perfect little princess.

“You’ve made Daddy so proud today, princess.” he coos into the kiss. “Will you be a good girl and stay very still while he undoes everything?”

You nod furiously, your sobs dying down to obedient sniffles as the hope of relief runs through your body. You can feel the mess of tears, mascara and drool on your face, but you don’t seem to care. Kun had already seen the worst of you. No, he had pulled it out of you because that’s what he wanted. That’s what your man wanted.

The man in question walks around to the back of the table now and finally turns the vibrator off. You let out a high pitched, shaky sound of relief, although you don’t feel relieved in any way. You just feel even more sexually frustrated because Kun is taking his time wiping the vibrator off and wrapping the cord and putting it back in it’s right place. Sometimes, you hated his fucking perfectionist guts. Then he methodically undoes the binds around your ankles and you exhale as the circulation returns when you move them around. You place your chest down on the table for a breather when he moves his attention to the huge plug in your ass. He holds it gently and though you know he’s going to be as careful as ever to take it out, you still find yourself gripping onto the edge of the table and holding your breath. But the pain does not come because he twists and turns it so gently, you barely even feel it and only notice it’s absence when the lube starts dripping more freely out of your hole. 

You feel his warm, soft kisses on your ass. “My baby did so well.” he praises and you feel your heart soar. All this pain was worth it if you got to hear him talk like that. Then you find him holding you by the waist and sliding you to the edge of the table, holding your legs and helping you find your footing till you are bent over like he wants. 

“Will my baby be okay to bend over like this for a while?” you hear him ask behind you.

You turn your head just a little to reply “Yes, Daddy.” 

“Good girl.” he pats your bum before you hear the telltale sounds of him undoing his belt and pulling his zipper down. These sounds worked on you like the sounds of bells worked on Pavlov’s dogs. Because you find your pussy dripping for him almost immediately. You move the pillows under your chest and place your cheek on the cool surface of the table as you wait for him to take you. Your wrists are still bound by the handcuffs and it makes you feel so bloody submissive that for a while, you’re happy your pussy is dripping so shamelessly for Kun. You wonder if he likes the mess he’s made between your legs.

But that smugness is chased right away when he pushes his cock inside of you and you’re moaning out in no time. He fucks into you so your mound presses into the edge of the table over and over and your moans become more gurgled.

“Your cock feels so good, Daddy!” you mewl desperately and it works because it encourages him to go faster and soon, your chest is lifting off the table because the pressure in your abdomen is building and building. 

Kun grabs your hair and lifts you off the table and hugs your body to him, into his chest. He fucks you like this, standing up and moans in your ear.

“My baby is so good for me. My princess is so good for her Daddy.” He tells you and you think you’re going to burst, so you tell him.

“Daddy, I need to come!” 

“No, baby.” He replies and pulls out of you so quickly that you lose your balance and double over the table, breathing out of your mouth erratically.

“Daddyyyy!” you whine with your entire body at the betrayal.

“Come here.” He invites as he takes a seat on his favorite armchair. Your panties are still around your thighs and you know he wants you to keep them there. So you waddle your way to him, all your pride be damned. He cups your ass right away and helps you get on his lap, looping your bound wrists around his neck as you straddle him.

“My pretty baby.” he says as he looks up to kiss you. “Does my baby want to come?”

You nod and your face contorts again and you don’t realize that your frown has turned into a sob “Please, Daddy…” you beg.

He kisses your shoulder. “Shhh. It’s okay, baby. Daddy’s got you.” 

He brings both hands between your legs from behind and pushes down your panties that have ridden up and goes straight for your pussy. His hands rub soothing strokes on the entirety of it, almost like he’s massaging you. Both his hands spread your lips apart then his fingers press against your flesh.

“My good girl…” he coos when he sinks two fingers into your hole while the other hand keeps holding you open for him. He begins pumping and you whimper in his lap, saying ‘Daddy’ over and over like an incantation. But then he curls his fingers inside of you and starts pumping up strongly and you know you’re going to burst soon. You unloop your arms from around him so you can push against his chest.

“Daddy, I think I’m going to squirt.” you warn desperately, worriedly.

He kisses you “It’s okay, baby girl, you can squirt,” he assures you.

“Can I get off you, Daddy? I don’t want to make a mess on you.” you bring both hands to your pussy now, covering because you’re not sure how much longer you can hold out before you have an accident on his pants.

But he uses his free hand to grab your bound wrists and loop them around his neck again. “It’s okay, baby. Daddy’s got you. You can squirt right here.” He kisses your cheek caringly.

“Can I take my panties off, Daddy? I don’t want to make them dirty.” you have no idea why you’re so self-conscious about your messes when your face probably looks like one anyway.

“It’s okay, baby. Daddy doesn’t mind if you come in your panties or on his pants. Daddy wants you to come like this, on his lap where you’re safe.” he wraps one arm firmly around the middle of your back while the fingers of the other hand pump with precision because he knows exactly how to make you explode. 

You know you have no choice. You’re whimpering in frustration but you have nowhere to go but his arms. It’s what he wants. He wants you coming undone without hiding from him. And you know it’s bad because your hips are hovering off of his lap, trying to get away from all the pleasure and pressure in your pussy. You bury your face in his neck and wail till your voice strains before it cuts off. And before you know it, you are raining down all over him.

“That’s it, baby girl. Just let go for your Daddy. Let it all out.” He’s rubbing your back, nurturing, which is in striking contrast to what his other hand is doing inside your pussy. You’re embarrassed beyond belief because the squirt is falling onto Kun with a splattering sound and you regret lifting off of him. But you can’t really think because your entire body is convulsing and if he wasn’t holding you, you would’ve fallen off already. When you still, he holds you close, rubbing his hands up and down your back, pressing kisses to your forehead. 

“Are you sure you let it all out, baby girl?” He asks, bringing a hand back to your pussy and sinking a finger into your hole as if to confirm.

“I think so, Daddy.” you say meekly into his neck.

“Stand up so Daddy can check.” He says and you almost groan because you don’t want to stand up. You just want to go limp in his arms and never move ever again in your life. 

But nothing good even comes out of defying Kun so you’re up on your feet, supporting yourself with your bound hands on his shoulder. Your pussy is right in front of him like this and he furrows his eyebrows, pushing his fingers inside of you and inspecting you with an almost clinical concentration. When you moan out, he nods like he’s confirmed something.

“I think you can come one more time.” he turns you so you’re standing sideways to him. He brings one hand from behind, under your legs and into your hole, while his other hand splays over your lower abdomen, pressing as if to squeeze anything that’s left out of you. Your toes curl as you moan restlessly because you weren’t sure you could, but once Kun had decided he wanted something, he almost always got it. You let out dry, frustrated sobs and he looks up at you.

“Baby girl. Concentrate and come.” he scolds and he reaches with his thumb to rub circles on your clit as well. You stand there whimpering, moaning, giving into your boyfriend’s desires and soon, you find your body convulsing once again. Kun has to hold you tighter by the pussy because you’re doubling over as your orgasm hits. Soon, he has pulled you into his lap once more, making you sit on his thigh as he kisses you.

“Good girl.” He kisses your lips while his hand goes between your legs to soothe over your aching pussy. “That’s my good girl.” he says in between kisses and you smile lazily because you’re happy you pleased him. 

“Is my good girl going to take Daddy’s cum on her face?” he asks lovingly as he gently pulls your panties up and puts them snugly in place, covering you.

“Yes, Daddy.” You say, in a soft, almost sleepy voice. You were spent.

Kun kisses your temple, tender and long. “Get on your knees for me, baby girl. Take Daddy’s cum all over your pretty face.”

“Yes, Daddy.” you say sweetly as you get on your knees and look up into his eyes from below, like the loving submissive that you were. And he stands up and unzips himself more so he can take his cock in his hands and look at you adoringly as he pumps himself. You rub your palms over his thighs to help him along and soon his breaths have turned to moans and his moans have turned to grunts and he is coming all over your face, hitting your cheek, your forehead, your lips, your eyes. It clings onto your eyelashes; some of it even lands on your hair. You squeeze your eyes shut and keep them closed, staying very still as Kun holds the top of your head and strokes every last drop out onto your face.

He stands back panting “Fuckkk, you look so fucking gorgeous, baby.” he breathes out and you smile gently without opening your eyes.

“Stay like that.” you hear after a while and then feel his thumbs swipe carefully over and between your eyelids. “Open.” he says and you blink your eyes open but soon realize that he meant your mouth because he’s scooping all the cum off your face with his thumb and feeding it to you. You oblige because when he’s done, he kisses you deeply in gratitude.

He walks away for a while and you stay there on your knees, wrists bound, spent to the bone, feeling like your legs have turned to jelly. So you lay your head on the seat of Kun’s chair so you can doze off just like that but he’s back before you’re totally gone. He’s undoing the handcuffs and kissing the skin of your wrists when it is exposed. He is lifting your shirt off of you and your panties and scooping your naked body in his arms and carrying you till he’s placed you in a hot bath. He bathes you thoroughly, massages your scalp when he shampoos your hair, then dries you off and anoints your pussy with soothing balms when he’s done. Then he puts you in one of his shirts that hangs to your thighs like a dress and then pulls you into his arms and tucks the covers around you so you’re snug into him, warm and comfortable and safe.

You feel so good that you decide that you would make breakfast for him in the morning just to thank him for being the best boyfriend in the world. But like all mornings, he beats you to it and you wake to breakfast in bed. 

Copyright © 2021 NeoCultureTravesty. All rights reserved.

[crushed-like-an-ant]

how to calm down an angry billionaire

Step 1. Deflect.

Peter was good at deflection. Always had been. It was a skill he'd picked up after people constantly tried to ask him about his feelings after his parents died, then again when Ben died. Any questions he didn't want to answer quickly turned into an animated conversation about whatever his mind thought of first (there had been that awkward time he'd asked a fellow orphan how their parents were), an apology and fast excuse to get the hell out of there (mostly worked except when he was panicking and the best he could come up with was a cheese making competition, that had caused a lot of questions Peter would rather never deal with again), or just flat out running away (sometimes he ran into poles or walls which was always a bit embarrassing given he was literally Spider-man). Sometimes Peter had to use all three options. So Peter knew when Tony finally decided to have the dreaded conversation about the whole not-my-first-time-holding-up-a-building thing, he would be able to deflect it. Or so he thought. Turns out, Peter had drastically underestimated the sheer stubbornness of Tony Stark.

It was a lab day, around three weeks after the incident where Peter and Tony had been stuck under a building and Peter stupidly let slip that he’d held up a building before. Peter had thought Tony had forgotten about his words. He was comfortable, tentatively confident and optimistic that it wouldn't be brought up again. He had no idea how wrong he was.

"Hey kid?" Tony said, cutting the comfortable silence between them as they worked, tone slightly hesitant. Peter should've picked up on it. He should've realised. But he'd grown complacent. So Peter ignored the dread pooling in his stomach and lifted his head from the mess of wires in front of him to look at Tony.

"Mr Stark?" he replied with a smile that Tony didn't return. Nor did he try to tell Peter to call him Tony. And that was how Peter knew something was wrong. Nerves skittered down his spine, clod fingers of dread snaking around his neck as nervous energy filled him and he began to tap on the desk. Anything to distract himself from the sorrow and worry shining in his mentor's brown eyes.

"Look kid, uh, I," Tony fumbled for words. Shit. This was bad. If Tony Stark was struggling to say something, you knew it was serious. Peter just stared at him in silence,unsure of what to say, anxiety coursing through his veins at the grimace that clouded Tony's features. What could possibly have gotten him into this mood? Had Peter done something wrong? Was he gonna, oh god, was he gonna take the suit? "Pete, I need to know what you meant when we were under the building," Tony finally managed to say, Peter relaxing. Oh. That was all?

"I just meant that I'd lifted a lot of heavy things," Peter half-lied, looking Tony straight in the eyes and lying to his face, mindful to make sure his tells were carefully under control. Training with Daredevil - despite Tony's misgivings about Double D - had been one of the best decisions Peter had ever made. He felt a twinge of guilt as he lied to Tony but it's not like he could tell the truth. And he wasn't really lying. Just withholding the entire truth. He shrugged nonchalantly, "Anyways, you reckon you can help me with this? I'm stuck. My mind kinda decided to go and die on me." Peter chuckled quietly. Tony wasn't laughing.

"I want to believe you, kid," Tony told him, "I really do. But I can't. You had a panic attack under there. What aren't you telling me Peter? Whatever it is, I'm here for you. You can tell me anything. And I don't want to pressure you into telling me anything until you're ready but I-I just-I need to know what happened. I need to know what you meant." Peter's resolve almost broke as Tony's voice broke. No. He couldn't tell Tony. Not only would Tony think he was weak, but Peter knew that Mr Stark would blame himself because he took the suit. Peter couldn't let him do that. Option one had failed him, so it was onto option 2. Make a quick exit without raising any suspicions. Yeah, he didn't think that was gonna work. Worth a shot though.

"Hey, Mr Stark," Peter said after checking his watch and pretending to look shocked at the time, "I'm really sorry but I have to go. I promised Ned we'd work on our Bio project tonight and I'm already seven minutes late." Mr Stark raised an eyebrow and pulled up a picture of Ned on his holiday in California.

"Nice try kid," Tony replied drily. Peter sighed, shoulders slumping. Time for option three then.

"I-I don't really know how to tell you, uh," Peter deliberately stuttered, guilt eating him up inside as he put on an act for Tony. For option three to work, Peter had to catch Tony off guard otherwise he'd react too quickly and lock the tower down. His act work, Tony's features softening and body relaxing.

"It's okay, bambino, take your time." And if that didn't make him feel like a horrible person, nothing would. Peter stood and padded over to some machinery near the exit, pretending to be trying to busy himself as he worked himself up to answering Tony when he was actually getting closer to the door.

"I, uh," Peter stumbled. Tony was now far away enough that Peter could easily run without being grabbed and stopped. The door was right there. Peter took his opportunity. He ran. Out the door, down the hallway, flying to the elevator. Pressing the button frantically, Peter groaned when nothing happened. Great. Tony had stopped the elevators. Sighing, Peter pulled the mask from his pocket and pulled it over his head, sprinting at the window. Peter burst through the window in a shower of glass, activating his web shooters as he fell, quickly shooting a web and catching himself. And he was swinging, swinging, swinging. Allowing himself to smile at his escape, Peter was unprepared when he was grabbed from behind by two cold metal hands. Thanks for nothing spidey sense. Tony flew a sulking Peter back through the broken window and into one of the meeting rooms, setting him down firmly in a seat. Peter crossed his arms, pouting as he pulled off his mask, Tony's Iron Man suit unfolding around him and the man stepping out, an unimpressed look painted across his features.

"You done deflecting yet?" Tony asked, a single eyebrow raised. Damn. Peter wished he could do that. Alas, no amount of practising in front of a mirror had ever given him the talent to lift one eyebrow and not look like a demented monkey. Time for a different strategy. Deflection had failed him. But Peter would not go down easy.

~~~

Step 2. Deny.

The unfortunate thing about this step was that Peter would always over-deny. He would deny everything or nothing. There was no in between. For example, he was once denying eating the last bit of chocolate and ended up accidentally telling May his name wasn't Peter and that he was an alien from outer space with a severe lettuce allergy. Don't ask. Peter really didn't want to relive that trauma. So although Peter always tried his best with denial, it never really worked out in his favour. Honestly, it was through sheer dumb luck that he managed to keep Spider-Man a secret from his friends and family for so long. It was probably some good karma that had been waiting for the perfect moment to help him out. It was a little late but hey, better late than never right?

"No," Peter blurted in a panic. Shock splashed across Tony's face as he folded his arms.

"Kid, you know you can tell me anything, right?" Tony told him gently.

"No," Peter exclaimed again, hurt painting the billionaire's face. "I mean, yes." Shitshitshitshitshit. Peter was an idiot. He had to deny everything - but not everything, Peter, remember the lettuce incident - so Mr Stark wouldn't find out. But Peter had always been shit at denial.

"Look, I know this is probably hard for you to talk about," Tony continued on, oblivious to Peter's internal panic, "but I won't judge you. I love you, bambino. You know that right? And I'll support you no matter what but I can't help you if you don't let me."

"No," Peter said. It was the only word he knew. Any more and he would have another lettuce incident or he'd end up rambling the truth. He couldn't do that. So his current vocabulary was limited to 'no', 'no', 'no' with a side of 'no'. Which wasn't suspicious at all. Totally.

"What the hell, kid?" Tony asked, mostly confused, slight irritation colouring his tone. Peter was hyper-aware of the thundering beat his heart was drumming to, the way Tony's slightly picked up when he said 'no', the sweat covering his body like a second skin. Tony's sigh sounded like a bomb to his sensitive ears, the sharp intake of breath before he spoke like a blaring alarm. "What did you mean when you said it wasn't your first time?"

"I didn't," Peter responded, brain not quite computing, "nothing happened." Tony's gaze narrowed. Shit. Was Tony going to take the suit if he didn't tell him? But Peter just couldn't tell him. He couldn't.

"Fucking hell Peter, just tell me dammit!" Tony exclaimed, running a hand through his messy brown hair in frustration. Peter knew - with the certainty that he knew his own name or the colour of his eyes - that denial had failed him. Time for Peter's next strategy.

~~~

Step 3. Stretch the truth.

When Peter's other strategies failed him, he turned to stretching the truth. It was simple really, just take the truth and dial it down from boiling hot to freezing cold and give it to the person on a silver platter with a charmingly innocent - and only slightly nervous - smile. Half-truths were easy to fool people with. Someone had said that the best lies were the ones based on truth. Peter couldn't remember who exactly had said that. He had never been very good with that sort of stuff, unlike MJ. So although stretching the truth was Peter's third option, he'd always been surprisingly good at it. People seemed to believe he was too innocent to be able to lie. Which was absurd because he'd spent ten years living with his Aunt and her terrible cooking and she still didn't know he hated her walnut date loaf.

"Okay," Peter conceded quietly and the rage slowly left Tony as he deflated like a balloon, looking smaller without all the fury. Peter sat down in front of Tony. "It was back in the fight with The Vulture and he threw a wall at me. I caught it and threw it back at him but he dodged it with his super awesome flying skills." Tony looked him straight in the eyes for a few seconds, Peter holding his gaze before Tony leaned forward.

"Cut the bullshit," Tony whispered, dangerously quiet, tightly compressed anger stemming from worry swimming in his brown eyes. "A wall wouldn't stay together if it was thrown, caught and thrown back. Even then, you wouldn't say it wasn't your first time while holding a building up unless you'd held up a fucking building already. And you wouldn't have a panic attack from holding up a building about something thrown at you. So stop lying to me, Peter Benjamin Parker." Damn. The full name. Peter released a heavy exhale, knowing he was beaten. He had to tell Mr Stark the truth.

"It actually was in the fight with the Vulture," Peter began, "so I wasn't lying about that. And I did have to catch a few walls." Tony raised his eyebrows at Peter's weak attempts at defending himself. "I went to his warehouse and he sent his flying suit at me. It wasn't particularly good at attacking 'cause it hadn't even touched me. I said that and Toomes told me it wasn't trying to." Tony inhaled sharply, clasping his hands together to stop them from shaking, Peter trying not to listen to how Tony's hands still hit each other gently. Enhanced hearing sucked sometimes. "He had directed the suit to take out all the supports in the building." Tony gasped, expression contorted into one of such extreme guilt and sorrow that Peter wanted to shelter Tony from the world for the rest of his days because goddammit he's seen too much and been through enough and couldn't the world just give him a fucking break for once? No one deserved one more than Mr Stark did.

"I took the suit," Tony whispered, voice thick with emotion, "I took the suit. It was your only protection, damn it, and I took the fucking suit!" Tony was yelling now, self-hatred and rage dancing in his wild brown eyes.

"It wasn't your fault, Mr Stark," Peter tried to tell him.

"How?" Tony scoffed, laughing bitterly, "How was this not my fault. I took the suit and you got hurt because of my mistake."

"It's okay, Mr Stark, you didn't know," Peter said.

"But I should've," Tony replied, "I should've known." Peter's features hardened, spine turning to steel. He wouldn't let Mr Stark blame himself for this. The blame was on Toomes and only on Toomes.

"Did you pilot the Vulture suit?" Peter asked firmly.

"What?"

"Did. You. Pilot. The. Vulture. Suit." Peter repeated, staring defiantly at Tony.

"No, of course not," Tony replied, slight confusion clinging to his features.

"And did you cause the building to fall?" he continued.

"No."

"Then it's not your fault," Peter told him simply.

"Kid, I shouldn't have taken the suit," Tony began, dropping his head into his hands. He opened his mouth to continue but Peter cut him off before he could say anything equally self-deprecating.

"Maybe," Peter allowed, "but then I wouldn't found out I was strong enough to get back up again. 'If you're nothing without the suit then you shouldn't have it'. You told me that. I thought the suit made Spider-man and I lost sight of what Spider-man really meant. God, I started out in a fricking onesie. That's what Spider-man represents. Not a hero with a multi-million dollar suit, but someone with nothing but their will to save others. Without you taking the suit, I never would've remembered everything Spider-man stood for.; With great power comes great responsibility. You gave me that tough love moment and I needed it. Now it's my turn to dish out some tough love for you." Peter took a deep breath. "You, Tony Stark, are being a fucking idiot. The blame of what happened in the past lies with Adrian Toomes, and Adrian Toomes alone. So stop this self-deprecating bullshit and use your fucking brain for once in your life. It. Was. Not. Your. Fault." Tony looked up at him, the self-hatred drained from his features, a slight smile adorning his lips which Peter returned.

"You're right, kid," Tony said, "when did you get this wise?"

"I've always been this wise, Mr Stark, I just wanted you to feel better about your lack of common sense," Peter joked, Tony chuckling.

"It wasn't my fault," Tony repeated. Peter tilted his head, confused at the strange undertone in Tony's voice only to see a fire lit in his caramel eyes. "I'm going to kill that son of a bitch."

And it was then that he knew he fucked up.

~~~

Step 4. Try some breathing exercises.

Peter had always been shit at breathing exercise. He just didn't have the patience for them. While he was breathing, someone could be getting raped in an alley, a shop could be getting robbed, or a kid could be getting beat up. So - despite the constant reminders to just try the damn breathing exercises for the love of god - Peter had never done anything of the sort. How could he? With his enhanced senses, it was impossible to relax. Would you be able to sit there and breathe while screams rang in your ears and sobbing pounded in your mind? Naturally, this meant that Peter wasn't the most experienced when it came to said breathing exercises. Maybe he should've practised. Life always had a funny way of throwing Peter in the deep end headfirst and tied to a ten ton weight and expecting him to swim. However, he had once read in a self-help book that breathing exercises were good for calming people down, so he decided to hit fuck it for the sixth time in the last 48 hours and try it out. I mean, it was that or release an angry billionaire in a metal suit decked out with the most advanced weapons in the world (except for maybe what HYDRA had because honestly Peter knew better than to underestimate them and he mildly respected their cockroach-like survival skills) who was hell-bent on revenge and gave zero fucks into the world. The second option was beginning to sound quite tempting, Peter would be honest.

"Mr Stark, you need to calm down," Peter told the man gently, placing a hand on Tony's shoulder. Tony tilted his head up to look at Peter - rage splashed across his face, tension lining his body - before he shrugged off Peter's hand and jerked into a standing position. And the room was suffocating, suffocating, suffocating, because damn had Tony always been that scary. A cloud of darkness surrounded Tony, filling the lab up and winding itself slowly around Peter's neck, stealing the breath from his lungs. Tony stormed through the lab, footsteps like thunder, anger crackling like lightning. Desperately, Peter followed the billionaire. "Mr Stark, Mr Stark, please calm down," Peter pleaded with him.

"No," Tony spoke, voice cold and flat, tone totally devoid of emotion, so totally opposite to the fury painting his entire body like a second skin. "No I will not calm down, Peter. He dropped a fucking building on you. He deserves to die."

"But you don't deserve to live with the guilt of killing him," Peter begged, tugging at Tony's sleeve in a desperate attempt to stop the man from his warpath. Peter knew he could easily overpower Tony. But he was hoping it wouldn't come to that. "Trust me, I know how it feels to want revenge, I really do, but you have to let it go. Please, Mr Stark."

"Dammit Peter, he hurt you!" Tony shouted, whirling around to face Peter, features twisted and manically furious. "He hurt you a-and I wasn't there and you had to deal with being crushed by a fucking building and then you got up and kept fighting because of that sick son of a bitch so I swear to fucking god I will murder him." Tony's eyes held a frenzied wildness in them, chest heaving up and down, Peter could hear his heart racing.

"Mr Stark, try some breathing," Peter said out of desperation, completely and utterly out of ideas. "Just breath. In and out, in and out." Tony's momentary surprise shocked him out of his anger, confusion flickering across his face momentarily before the anger was back, stronger than ever. Tony pivoted on his heel and walked away from Peter, heading towards where he kept his suits and leaving a heavy sense of dread pooling in Peter's stomach and twisting his insides in knots. So breathing hadn't worked. Thanks for nothing self-help books.

~~~

Step 5. Hack the most advanced AI in the world.

When in doubt, do something potentially illegal. A mugger had once told Peter that after Peter caught her trying to rob a young man. That lady had been fucking badass. It was honestly a shame she's gone to prison but a criminal is a criminal. Turns out the lady had been responsible for a string of high-end bank and jewellery robberies. Peter wondered how she was doing. Probably not well, considering how shit the American jail system is. Peter always tried to find alternative ways to stop criminals, only really sending in the pedophiles, rapists, murderers and the more professional robbers. Sometimes people had no choice in the shitty hand life had dealt them and goddamn if Peter didn't get that. People were just pushed and pushed until they were left with nothing but desperation. Maybe if the government or any of the fucking American systems were better or did their jobs properly then people wouldn't have to steal just to keep themselves and their families from starvation. Maybe Toomes wouldn't have started his alien tech business and then none of this would have even happened. Peter wouldn't be in this situation right now. And Peter was now out of options. He had an angry billionaire on his hands and absolutely no idea what to do. So, he took the lady's advice and decided to do something potentially illegal. He hacked the most advance AI in the world. (What, like it's hard?)

"Hey FRI?" Peter called with a wince.

"Yes, Peter," the AI replied.

"I'm really sorry," Peter told her before bringing up FRIDAY's code. (A/N - I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT COMPUTERS SO THIS IS GONNA BE SOME VAGUE, QUESTIONABLE AF HACKING) Fingers flying across the keys of the laptop, Peter bit his lip in concentration, brows furrowed. He had to hurry and shut down Mr Stark's suits before he reached them and left to murder Toomes. Adrenaline coursed through his body, brain whirring to life like the computer before him as he deleted lines of code, rewriting and altering the code that created FRIDAY as he tore down the firewalls Mr Stark had built. Peter vaguely registered that this was probably illegal and that Mr Stark would most definitely be mad about this later but he quickly waved the thoughts away. He didn't have time for them, he didn't have time, he didn't have time. Barely registering what he was doing, Peter submerged himself into the world of numbers, immersing himself completely in the ocean of lines of code, fingers instinctively knowing what t do as though he'd been born to hack. Again, probably not a great thing that this was so easy. But computers had always made sense to Peter. After what felt like hours but was really only a few minutes, Peter was into FRIDAY's system. And with a few taps, Peter shut down the suits. Quickly exiting the browser, Peter dropped his head into his hands. He'd done it. With a long exhale, Peter relaxed, leaning back into his chair and running his shaking hands through his hair. An enraged roar broke the peaceful quiet surrounding Peter and he squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe if he ignored it, Mr Stark's anger would go away. He couldn't deal with this shit. Peter was too young to die.

"Peter Benjamin Parker I swear to fucking god-"

"You probably shouldn't fuck god, Mr Stark," Peter couldn't resist remarking with a shit-eating grin. "People might get a bit mad. And who knows, you may even end up pregnant which I can't imagine will be very fun."

"What the fuck?" Tony whispered into the silence that followed Peter's statement. "I don't even want to know what goes on in your brain." Peter hummed in agreement. To be honest, he had no idea what was going on up there half the time. He was just along for the ride. And hey, if it distracted Mr Stark from his anger then it was a win win situation right? (How Peter won in this scenario he didn't know but he didn't question it).

"It's the trauma," Peter replied flippantly, as casual as one would be if they were discussing the weather.

"The-" Tony broke off into angry, confused gibberish that Peter didn't even try to decipher. Crisis averted. Now to deal with the aftermath.

~~~

Step 6. Watch a movie.

Peter Parker wasn't good with emotions. Being a socially awkward sixteen-year-old genius had that effect on a person. Not to mention the fact that he had a crime-fighting, sarcastic alter ego. Yeah, he wasn't great with feelings. Especially not his own. And now he was attempting to help Mr Stark clam down after the whole Toomes-dropping-a-building-on-him-reveal thing. And the only way an emotionally stunted teenage genius superhero knew how to help an emotionally stunted adult genius superhero was something most people would not class as a healthy coping mechanism. Distraction. Preferably with a movie.

"Hey Mr Stark, wanna watch Empire Strikes Back?" Peter asked. Tony fell into a confused silence which Peter took as an agreement. "Yes? Perfect, let's go." Grabbing Tony's arm, Peter tugged him out of the lab and into the elevator, confusion splashed across Tony's features as they entered the movie room. Peter dropped onto the expensive yet incredibly comfortable couch in the centre of the room, pulling Tony down beside him. "Hey FRI? Can you please play The Empire Strikes Back."

"Certainly, Peter," FRIDAY replied, a hint of warmth in her robotic voice. The Star Wars theme filled the room, Peter lips kicking up into a smile at the familiar sound. And as the movie played, Peter reciting every single line with the characters, he felt the rage and tension slowly drain out of his mentor as he relaxed.

"Hey, kid," Tony whispered, interrupting Luke and Darth Vader's showdown. "I sorry for getting angry. I just... I just didn't know what to do. Instead of asking if you were okay I blamed myself and wanted to frigging murder a guy who's already suffering in prison."

"It's okay, Mr Stark," Peter responded with a smile, sincerity gracing his tone. "I get it. After Ben died, I found his murderer. I almost killed the guy," Peter chuckled without humour, Tony watching him with sad eyes, the movie forgotten. "Point is, I know how it feels to want revenge. Don't apologise for being human."

"You really are the best of us all, kid," Tony remarked, a smile adoring his face, features relaxed as he looked at Peter.

"I learned from the best," Peter replied with a shrug.

"Thanks, kid," Tony said, throat tight with emotion.

"I meant May," Peter joked lightly, the heavy emotion clouding the room vanishing as Tony laughed.

"Are you okay, kid?" Tony asked, seriousness settling over them again.

"Honestly?" Peter responded, "no. But that's alright. Because I will be." Peter held Tony's gaze, warmth blossoming in his chest at his mentor's caring eyes, as Darth Vader's voice filled the room.

"No, I am your father," Darth Vader spoke. Peter turned back to the movie, watching as Luke jumped and fell.

"You're gonna be okay, kid," Tony whispered, "we're both gonna be okay."

Because Peter would be okay. So Tony was okay too.

And if Pepper walked in three hours later to find them curled up against each other, fast asleep she never said anything. (She got FRIDAY to take a photo and saved it to Irondad and Spiderson - an unsurprisingly large file. She should probably get Peter to do a DNA test. They did look rather similar)

[soramei]

Intentional - Part 6

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Landing your first real job at JYPE was something short of a miracle. You were prepared to face the new struggles of this elusive career whilst moving to a new country, however, nothing could have prepared you for him. Will stolen glances, secret touches, and hushed nights spent in the recording room ever be enough for the both of you?

Genre: idol!bang chan au, forbidden relationship, coworkers to eventual lovers, slow burn

Warnings: cursing, eventual smut

Word Count: 3.5k

Masterlist

A/N: hehe my mistake, i forgot to queue up this update and by the time i realized it was too late so i'm posting this a day late ^^

Taglist (reply to be tagged!): @planetdemon​ @hvunvely​ @fluffybitch0325​ @fashi0nablee @juststop88 @straykisz @theultimaterad @margaritas-en-la-montania @meowtella @xsam1992x

The man froze in his tracks after entering the room and catching you laying on the couch with Bang Chan on top, practically devouring you. He looked scarred, to be frank, as he quickly snapped back to reality and bolted out the door in less than a second. As he made his grand escape, you forcefully pushed Bang Chan off of you. He swore under his breath before tripping out the door, trying to follow the man who had just caught you.

You sat up, head in your hands. This was exactly what you were scared of. What you worried so much about a few nights back. What Bang Chan reassured you of not happening.

You feel panic set in as you thought of the worst case scenario. Yup. You were going to get fired for sure. And the news will go to the public, resulting in Bang Chan also losing his job. You would then have to move back with your parents, and everybody will have the same look of shame and pity whenever they see you.

This wasn’t good. You stood up to make your own inconspicuous escape, but it seemed like Bang Chan beat you to the door.

“That was Jisung,” Bang Chan said. He entered, making sure to lean against the door just in case anybody else wanted to intrude.

The name and the face clicked in your mind. He was part of Stray Kids as well as Bang Chan’s coworker. You recognized him more commonly as Han, as his name has come up in a lot of the work you’ve been sent.

“What did he say?” you asked skeptically. Worry was setting in.

“Don’t worry, he said he wouldn’t tell anybody. I trust him.”

How were you supposed to believe that? You’ve never even spoken to this man in your life, and now you were supposed to put the future of your career in his hands?

“But I don’t, Chan. I’ve never even met this guy in real life before. How can I trust that he won’t tell one of your other group members?” You heard your voice get louder with every word.

“I had a talk with him just now, Y/n, you can trust him. Out of everybody in this company, he’s the least likely to tell just anybody — even one of our members.” He paused, “don’t you trust me, Y/n?”

You were speechless. Your trust in him was completely different from your trust in Jisung, and you were sure he knew that. Obviously you trusted Bang Chan, but you didn’t know the extent that his group members would go to for a secret. Especially one that could have an effect on their careers as well.

“You can’t just ask me that, and you know it,” you sneered. “You know what? It’s my fault. I was too careless. I’ll leave now.”

“Wait, Y/n-”

You didn’t even let him finish before stomping out the door, making sure to check your surroundings for anybody that could catch you before heading back up to your cubicle. You felt the heat of your cheeks the whole elevator ride.

You were on edge for the rest of the day. When Manager Chen asked to see you in her office, you were so startled that you quite literally jumped from your seat. You were sure somebody had informed her of what happened, but it turned out that she just wanted to rearrange the usual Friday meeting.

Because of the filming tomorrow, the project meeting had to be arranged for next week. Which you were fine with, of course, since you did not want to face all your managers in one place after what had just happened.

Throughout the rest of the day, you started to feel more and more guilty for how you reacted at lunch. As your mind cleared, you realized how rash you were with your decision making and how you only thought about yourself. You also thought about how rude it was to talk about Jisung like that, especially in front of Bang Chan — who cared a lot about the boy.

Logging off your email for the day, the thought of Bang Chan still lingered bitterly in your mind. You wished to apologize for your harsh behaviour, so you started to make your way over to his producing room.

However, you hadn’t even made it on the elevator before you were stopped.

“Hey, uhm — you might not recognize me, but I’m the guy from earlier. Han Jisung.”

He was standing politely behind you, hands folded together behind him.

“Hello, I still remember. You know, from earlier,” you awkwardly breathed out a laugh. You didn’t know what to say or why he was here.

“Hyung told me I could find you here and that I should apologize.” He took his hands out from behind him. “He also said that this might help.”

In his hand was a bottle of mango juice. Your heart warmed at the thought of Bang Chan still caring for you, despite you being such a jerk earlier.

“Anyways,” he continued, “I’m sorry for barging in like that and leaving so suddenly. I should’ve knocked or something before coming in, but Chan-hyung is somebody I’m very close to. I would never jeopardize him in any way.”

Hearing him apologize made you realize how little thinking you had done. Jisung regularly worked with Bang Chan, so of course he would just enter the room without knocking.

“Thanks for your apology, but I should be apologizing. I was the one being reckless. You did nothing wrong, Jisung. I trust that you wouldn’t tell anybody of this.”

“Thanks,” he said as the both of you entered the elevator.

The both of you stood in silence for a bit before he started again.

“So, Chan hyung huh.” He raised his eyebrows. “You know, he’s the best looking one out of all of us… after me of course.”

“Oh my god.” You blushed, head in your hands as he kept elbowing you.

“But, Y/n.” He got all serious again. His serious-playful demeanor was giving you whiplash. “You know what you’re doing is dangerous, right? Not only for him, but also for you. I love our fans, but there are some that have taken it too far before. I just want the two of you to be safe.”

“Thanks Jisung,” you started, “for that and for keeping this secret.”

“Of course, any ‘friend’ of Hyung's is a friend of mine.” He winked, causing you to heat up from embarrassment again.

The elevator reached Jisung’s floor, and he got out.

“Oh, also, I think you should call Chan hyung. He’s been pretty down this whole afternoon, and even my natural charisma couldn’t cheer him up.”

You thanked him for the last time before the elevator doors closed, promising him that you would contact Bang Chan.

And you did — as soon as you were alone in the elevator.

One ring. Two rings. A third.

“Hello?” He sounded out of breath.

“Chan?”

“Yes, Y/n?”

Crap, he sounded annoyed.

“Uhm, can we meet up somewhere? I-I wanted to talk to you.”

There was a slight pause.

“I’m at the gym right now. We could meet at the playground by the river in an hour.”

“Ok.” You hung up after that. It was a weird phone call. From his voice alone, you could obviously tell something was bugging him. You knew you were that something.

Grabbing a quick bite at a nearby convenience store, you started your journey to the playground. It wasn’t too far of a walk, but you decided to go earlier since it was already starting to get dark.

You hoped Bang Chan wasn’t in too much of a bad mood, especially after your conversation with Jisung. Honestly, you weren’t too excited to apologize. Not because you didn’t feel bad, but because of his cold and monotone voice through the phone. You didn’t want to admit it — especially because you had just met this man a few weeks ago — but you were scared of his possible rejection. It terrified you.

Breathing into your hands for warmth, you finally saw the playground up ahead. It was near the river, but covered by trees. You now understood why Bang Chan picked this place.

It was empty, as you assumed no child would want to play tag on a cold and dark evening. You sat on a swing, mindlessly swinging up and down whilst staring at the upcoming moon. The sound of crickets chirping combined with the cool autumn breeze almost brought you to serenity, but the thought of confronting Bang Chan grounded you back to earth.

You turned your head at the sound of panting. Bang Chan had jogged here. The ends of his hair were damp with sweat, stuck to his forehead. You wanted to call him crazy, as the only thing he wore was a sleeveless tank top and a pair of shorts on a cold autumn night.

He made his way to the swings.

“Hey,” he said, hopping on to the swing beside you. He was still out of breath from jogging.

“Hey,” you paused for a few seconds to think of what to say. “I wanted to apologize for earlier. I wasn’t thinking. I know you care about your job as well, and it was selfish of me to walk out on you. I’m also sorry for talking about Jisung like that. I met him this afternoon and he seemed like a good guy. And if there’s anything else I missed, I’m sorry for that too.”

You looked up at Bang Chan with puppy eyes, hoping that he would understand. He looked back at you.

“I accept your apology, Y/n. And look, I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have been so reckless, especially at the office. I knew that anybody could have walked in, and I was careless. We were lucky this time, but next time we might not be.”

“Next time?” Your eyes brightened.

“Y/n,” he got up, “I’m scared. I’m scared that I feel this way about you after only a few weeks. I’m terrified of losing my job, my coworkers, and friends. But Y/n, I just want you. I’m laying all my cards out on the table. This is how I feel, what about you?”

That was a lot to take in. Your grip tightened on the swing.

“Chan, everything you just said, I feel the same way. Everything about this scares me, but I just want you. Only you.”

You got up and wrapped your arms around him. You felt the cold sweat of his arms against your skin, but you didn’t care. You just wanted to be near him.

He wrapped his arms around you in return, digging his nose into your neck. You felt his damp hair against your skin.

“Chan, you’re all sweaty,” you teased, pushing his head away.

“I don’t care.” His words came out muffled against your neck as he dug his nose further.

“I feel like a kid being in a playground.” You scanned the empty playground, reminiscing on your childhood.

“Would a kid do this?”

Bang Chan, with his fingers on your chin, turned his head to kiss you so deep you thought you were going faint. You returned the kiss, hands gripping hard on to the sides of his tank. It seemed like the two of you were in your own little world.

“You should go. Tomorrow’s gonna be a long day,” Bang Chan said after eventually breaking the kiss.

“Mhmm,” you mumbled, trying to stall for time. You knew that the both of you should get going.

Eventually, after quite a while, you left for home. It felt as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. A very cute and dimple-y weight.

That evening, you packed all your necessities for the overnight shoot tomorrow, and fell asleep with high hopes for the next day. You were excited to see all your — along with the production team’s — efforts come to fruition.

The next morning, you woke up early and energized. You double checked that everything was ready before heading out to the JYPE building.

Manager Chen had informed you of which van you would be riding in to the set. Although she wasn’t in the vehicle with you, you had the opportunity to chat amongst some other very interesting members in the production crew.

After a few hours of driving, your van — along with the others — arrived. You helped the production crew set up as much as you could, as you were told the boys already started filming their drive to the set. Whilst waiting for the boys to come, you socialized around with both the production crew and Manager Chen.

Soon, after chatting for a bit, you saw the long awaited van pull up to the set. The boys got out, one by one, each holding their own little video cameras.

Bang Chan got out last. He looked amazing, really. With his hair and makeup done and his outfit styled, he was almost like a different person. You’ve never seen him without black on, but this was a surprisingly refreshing look.

It was chaos. With every boy at their peak energy, there was never a boring moment on set. It was clear that everybody — even the quieter ones — had established nice dynamics within the group. You watched them in awe, with Manager Chen telling you the behind happenings every now and then.

You found it so hard to hold in your laughter as the boys attempted to make mooncakes. It reminded you of your childhood; when you used to do the same with your mother.

As Bang Chan read off the script which you helped with, you felt a certain sense of pride in your heart. You smiled at him as he expressed himself to the camera.

It was dinner time for the boys, so that meant dinner for you and the crew as well. You followed the production team to a noodle restaurant. It was a small and cute, grandma-grandpa owned place. The menu, however, was huge.

“Y/n, this is Manager Jung,” Manager Chen said. She directed your gaze to a guy who looked in his late twenties. You instantly recognized him as the manager that drove you home on your first day of work.

“We’ve met before,” he said.

“You have?” Manager Chen was surprised.

“We have, but it’s nice to meet you under better circumstances,” you blushed. You hoped that you didn’t leave too bad of a first impression with him.

“It’s nice to meet you too, I’ve only heard good things about you from Manager Chen,” he said. “Actually, we were just discussing the sleeping arrangements for tonight.”

“Yes, we’ve managed to book a place that has enough rooms for everybody to sleep alone. They’re not the best of rooms, but this was the best we could do with our budget,” Manager Chen said.

“Sounds good to me,” you nodded. You were fully expecting to share a room with five other women.

You had a happy evening, eating and chatting before getting back to work. You watched as the boys carried out every production order to a tee, all the while keeping up their high energy even late into the night.

You helped the production crew with setting up fireworks for their next segment. Even the act of setting up got you excited as you haven’t seen fireworks in so long. Especially in a new country.

The rest of the filming went smooth, with the end slate following the last firework of the evening. You watched as the boys all lined up in a straight line to thank the production and camera crew. Bang Chan’s eyes landed right on yours. You smiled. He smiled back.

The boys were then ushered by Manager Jung into their own hostel, and you followed the crew to your room. The room was lit by a small incandescent light bulb. It was a small room with nothing but a mat for the floor, a small blanket, and a pillow. Though, to be fair, you weren’t expecting much.

You laid out the mat and blanket, washed up, and was about to call it in when you received a text from Bang Chan.

Bang Chan: You looked cute today.

You blushed, not aware that Bang Chan had even seen you during the day. He looked so busy with filming the whole time that you hadn’t even made eye contact. You smiled and returned the text.

Y/n: You too ^^

And with that, you peacefully fell asleep.

You had a tranquil dream; with only clouds, and sunshine, and… Manager Jung?

“Y/n!” he called.

Your dream clone hopped over to him to say hello.

“Y/n!” He called again. He looked worried. “Y/n!”

You suddenly jolted awake.

“Y/n! Hurry, get out!” He was coughing, holding the hem of his shirt up to his face.

You looked at him. His silhouette was clouded by smoke. You looked up.

The light bulb hanging from was burning and emitting a smoke of some kind. You gasped in shock, instantly regretting it as you breathed in a large amount of the smoke.

Manager Jung was already running outside at this point, and you quickly ran after him. Along the way you tried to hold your breath, but with every inhale you took in, a cloud of smoke followed. You coughed and kept running.

It seemed as if you were the last person out, as everybody staying at the hostel had already evacuated. Manager Chen was standing outside, a look of worry on her face.

“Y/n, are you okay?” She ran over to you.

“Yes,” you coughed. You still felt the smoke in your throat. “What happened?”

“The light bulb in your room caught on fire,” Manager Jung intervened. “Manager Chen was still awake when she smelled the smoke, and she evacuated everybody inside. Everybody woke up except you, Y/n.”

“Is everybody else okay?” you asked. You could hear how hoarse your voice sounded.

“Everybody else is alright. For some reason, the fuse shortage was only isolated to your room,” Manager Chen replied.

It was unfortunate that, out of all the rooms, the broken light bulb was in yours. However, you were glad that everybody else was safe. You were also thankful that Manager Jung woke you up in time, leaving you with only a sore throat.

“Hyung!”

You whipped your head to the direction of the voice. Bang Chan was sprinting across the dirt path in your direction. His hair was disheveled and his t-shirt wrinkled. Behind him was Jisung, dashing over so fast that he somehow managed to match Bang Chan’s pace. Jisung threw his hand, catching the back of Bang Chan’s shirt, pulling him back. Jisung then said some incoherent words to Bang Chan, which seemed to have slowed him down. Bang Chan took a couple deep breaths before waiting for his other members and walking over to you and the crew.

“What happened? Is everybody okay?” Bang Chan asked, concerned. He glanced at you before facing Manager Jung again.

“Everybody is fine,” Manager Jung reassured him. “There was a problem with the light bulb in a crew member’s room, but everybody has evacuated now. You and the boys don’t need to worry. Just go back to your rooms as you have a long day tomorrow.”

“Whose room was it?” Bang Chan asked, ignoring everything Manager Jung had just told him.

Manager Jung hesitated before pointing at you. Upon realization, Bang Chan jerked forward, only to be stopped by Jisung again. He gave Bang Chan a look.

“I’m okay,” you coughed out. It was hard to not sound so hoarse when you had just been breathing in smoke for god knows how long.

Bang Chan gave a deadpan look to Manager Jung.

“We have extra rooms where we’re staying, maybe Y/n can stay with us?” he asked.

“That is unnecessary, I will let Y/n use my room and I will stay with you. I’m sure Y/n would be on board,” Manager Jung said. He looked over to you, and you nodded in agreement.

“I guess that would work,” Bang Chan hesitantly said, “but what if this happens again with another room?”

“I’m sure that won’t-”

“Manager Jung!” Manager Chen interrupted, waving her hands whilst running over. “A member of our production crew took a look at the fuse box connected to Y/n’s room, and it seems like somebody tampered with the wires on purpose.”

[cinnamonest]

Rewriting my Diluc housewife thoughts but I saved it in my notes this time, but I made it infinitely more sexist than it already was before bc 1) I was in the kink mood and 2) the spirits of writing gods possessed my body and told me that is the way all Diluc content should be, so, this is major 1950s-ish housewifey horrendously misogynistic shit, you've been warned. Like, even *I* looked back over this and was like "wow this is vile" which is kinda saying something for me so, putting the nastier parts under cut for the sake of my followers' eyes ----------- I was thinking about the post a while back about Diluc reforming a criminal darling - a thief around Mondstadt that's been on a crime spree and of course he catches wind of that and goes to defeat the perpetrator (surprisingly very easy? How is a thief this weak?) and haul the bastard off to jail except... What's this? Said criminal is actually just some girl and not a gross ugly bastard?? This changes things. Clearly, this was not an intentional act of malice or greed, but rather, he, master of criminal psychology™, rationalizes that the world is far too cruel for unwifed girls that have no one to depend on, a cold terrible place, so you must have been driven to these actions out of desperation. You had no provider, no caretaker, which are needs. How could you possibly be expected to provide a means of living for yourself?? This is just the consequences of the unfairness of the world. However, things all work out in the end. You need to be taken care of and restrained from these self-destructive choices by force (since you cannot recognize how bad it is, not that you're expected to, it's natural that you have poor perception, that's why you need a man to make choices for you), and he needs a wife. This solution benefits all parties.

He is, however, a rather dense man, and doesn't really think to like, tell you that. Or tell you anything. He's too lost in thought in his planning -- gonna get you new clothes to replace your ragged ones, gonna have to rearrange the guard schedule so they can watch the house better, all that -- and just kinda slings you up and over his shoulder without a word. Ignores you kicking and hitting because it doesn't really hurt or anything, you're too weak for that. Just says he’ll explain in detail later, but don’t worry, you’re not going to jail. He’s just taking you home. This is better, he says. Stop struggling so much, what, you want to go to jail? No? Then be still. And you don't recognize that it's good for you yet, but again, that's expected. In a better time or society, you would have been married off sooner, and prevented from ever falling victim to your own decision making to begin with, but the world isn't perfect and you can be forgiven for it. You're not responsible for your own actions since you can't comprehend them. It's frustrating and he sighs a bit over it, but that's just the way things are. You'll be happy in the long run, even if it takes a while, you're naturally programmed for a better lifestyle he has in mind. And, really, he's glad you weren't married off, because if you were then he never would have had you, so even though it was technically unideal, the stars align and the universe works out things perfectly. It's all the more of a sign that this was fate and you were made for him. The issue is that a hardened criminal darling is... Not the ideal candidate for a housewife. To some extent, he's right that the criminal underworld hardens a person, you can't survive in that realm if you're submissive or weak willed. And criminal darling certainly is not. Loud mouthed, opinionated, argumentative, bad attitude, defiant and aggressive and very much unafraid. A complete loose cannon. All very unfavorable traits. Worst of all, very much unaccepting of and ungrateful for the privilege of a second chance and being graciously granted the opportunity for a better life. Lots of bad behaviors.

The cursing is a problem. It's not very... Wife-like. Gives off a bad image, you know. Especially since said cursing is usually directed at him at a very loud volume with a snarl and getting all up in his face to tell him he's fucking insane and a bastard. To be honest, the worst part isn't the words themselves, it's the fact that you are so unafraid to be defiant and so fiery that is the primary issue. You disobey very deliberately. Little acts of pettiness. Being mean to the maids who are so graciously trying to teach you how to cook (at his direction), since you had no idea how to (and nearly burned his house down as a result). The first time you were mean and bitter and that's how you learned they report back to him about how you behaved. It did not go over well.  

Intentionally burning food. Once you somehow found a bottle in a cabinet somewhere in the mansion and put rat poison in his food, made him sick. Muttering a sarcastic whoops and shoving a vase off to crash and shatter on the floor. Early on you refused to wear all the nice dresses you were generously given and even tried to go through his clothes to find something to wear, which was kinda cute since it was way too big, but still. You mutter and grumble under your breath every time you're given a command. The most important thing is sex, though. You know, your job. One of your only real responsibilities. He has a very stressful job. It's only reasonable that he can expect to come home to his sweet, loving little wife with open arms and equally open legs. You've probably fucked around a bit right? For money, for favors, for intel, you get the idea, lots of ties to criminal gangs to earn their trust. So, if you do it for something so insignificant, how much more does he deserve it for taking care of you fully? You should -- and you will, with time -- drop to your knees the second he walks through the door. But instead, sigh, you fight and whimper and cover your face in shame after you spasm and cum, and worst of all, you actively try not to cum. You shouldn't feel ashamed of that, it's good, he says. Sure, you may not be officially married (since the laws of Mondstadt unfortunately require that whole "consent" thing for both parties, ugh), but, he's basically your husband right? So, it's perfectly normal, you're supposed to cum for him. Maybe once you're all knocked up you'll be even hornier, and less shameful. He actually wasn't expecting you to be this bad. Incredibly stubborn and prideful. Literally the exact opposite traits of a good wife, you know, submissive and humble and obedient. He kinda thought that it was like... automatic. That once he just kinda shoved you in the right environment, it would be like flipping a switch right? Apparently not. But no matter. It can be changed, with effort and time. You're worth it. See, you're not supposed to backtalk him, you're supposed to smile and do what you're told without question. You're supposed to submit and obey, and instead you seem hellbent on pissing him off out of spite - and frankly, you're doing a good job of achieving that. Every time you defy him it sparks an irritation he can't describe, worse than he'd normally get from just being snarled at by anyone - no, something about being disrespected by someone he feels is beneath him makes him much, much angrier than it would be if it were, say, one of the business partners who get snappy and argumentative very frequently. He could break you and it would be easy, don't you know that? You stomp and you hit him and you yell, but clearly you process that you have to look up to look him in the eye, you have to realize how much smaller you are. You hit him even though you have to know by now he'll just grab your wrists, and like always you'll be unable to even hope of pulling out of his grip, the strength difference between you two is so great. There's no way you don't realize all that, yet you continue to behave the way you do. The inferiority is so blatantly obvious, but you act as if it's not. He spends a lot of time contemplating the source of this, the cause of your behavior, it occupies his thoughts. It's like... You resent him for something. Could it possibly be kidnapping you and keeping you as a glorified sex slave? No, no, that's not it. It's something else, yes. Are you just bitter about being inferior in, you know, every conceivable way? Is that it? The criminality for you was compensation to make you feel powerful, perhaps. You have a complex. You resent him not for anything he's done, but because you know he's stronger and smarter and generally superior to you. You don't want to accept it. You're prideful when you shouldn't be. You're supposed to be humble and content with your inferiority. Yeah, that's it. You just have a negative perception of the lifestyle you're supposed to have. Maybe some event in your life or someone else warped your view of things. You don't realize how happy you'd be if you just accepted it. Yes, if you submitted to it, if you swallowed your pride and actually accepted your place, you'd find you would be very happy, you just don't know that. Or maybe, your brain can't grasp something like that. After all, that's the reason you're supposed to be the submissive party of the two of you, you're not as bright or perceptive (says the densest man alive). You have to be... Led. Guided. So he says it. He is, again, a dense man. He does not really think about the fact that perhaps blatantly confronting you with the epiphany he thinks he's had and specifically using the words inferior and weak and small is probably not going to make you very happy. You get bitchy and bratty and try to hit him and he sighs because, see, this is exactly what he's talking about. You reacting the way you did only confirms you do have a complex, he says. So, how could he go about... reconditioning? He is not the most creative man, but thankfully it's a rather easy problem to solve. If you're reminded of a reality often enough, you have to accept it. For starters, using physical strength against you. Maybe that will metaphorically open your eyes. Holds you down in place when you're hitting him like you do, firmly bending you over a counter or whatever and just holding you in place. Come on, try to get up, try to push him off. You snarl and claw at the marble and push will all your strength, but he doesn't budge, not until you politely apologize and ask him to let you up. If you're being difficult and not going where he tells you to, well, he can just sling you up over his shoulder and carry you. If you're fighting being fucked he can just flip you over and press your face into the mattress and hold you still, and you can't help but take the brutal reality that you're basically a ragdoll to him, that is, physically overpowering you doesn't even require trying. It helps to knock you down a peg, remind you of your place and maybe get you to swallow that pride a bit. The orgasms and fucking have a similar effect -- every time you can't help but feel like he has a power over you. And really, he kinda does. Every time you lay there still panting and shivering in aftershock, the shame comes swarming in, all the obscene noises you made and the way you came undone under the person that treats you like property. Even if the rational part of you knows better, you can't help but feel like in a way it's like you let him win, allowed yourself to more or less prove him right. Maybe you'll learn better if you're in more humiliating positions. Stuck getting rammed from behind, hand forcing your face down and ass up. Actually correcting bad behaviors requires more direct approaches, so he takes the... Old fashioned route. After all, it's pretty much guaranteed to work. You don't listen to words, you don't listen to reason, but you'll certainly listen to handprints and belt welts on your ass. It's the first time you really, truly break, and that brings him a lot of satisfaction. The first time you really cry and whimper and beg and apologize so profusely it feels like you mean it for once. Granted, for a while you just persist in your bad behaviors and even try to run when you see him sigh and take the belt off, but you never get far. And, most notably, you actually fix your behaviors, with enough reminders. At one point, the next time you start being bad and get to bitching and snarling and putting up a fight, you catch the look on his face and, for once, you shut your mouth and look down and mumble an apology by default. See, you're learning. Speaking of, you still have that major issue with backtalking him. You're supposed to submit to him and acknowledge his authority over you. So he gets firm. Grabs you by the jaw and forces you to look him in the eye and reminds you that you will *not* get an attitude with him. You *will* show some respect. You say yes sir and no sir and do what you're told. And if you forget, he can give you a reminder, if you want that. But you shake your head with fear in your eyes, say you don't want that. It makes you mad. You want to lash back, but you swallow your pride and mutter a fine - before realizing the mistake, violating the rule you were just reminded of. You stammer out a yes sir but it's already too late. He has to control himself too, not let his anger get the better of him. He speaks in a way that isn't snarling and mean, but rather firm, cold, a flat tone that asserts dominance and demands respect. But... still wants you to like him. So he has to be nice, too. After all, you'll learn better if you're rewarded for being good, right? So you can get little rewards. Words of affirmation. A pat to the head. He'll buy you something you want, let you drink a bit (since, as a thief, of course, you had a problem with that before you came home, but that had to be corrected too, since drunkenness isn't very befitting). And sooner or later he does have a really good little wife. He's proud of you. You smile and obey commands without complaining. He can come home every day, and rather than hearing a long report from the staff about how much trouble you caused that day, instead you have food and smiles and sweet affection waiting on him, you hug him when he walks through the door. You're polite and sweet to the various business partners and guests that come through -- you don't speak to them without permission though, of course, and you look down at the ground so you don't make eye contact with another man. People say he's lucky and how they wish they had a wife that was so outwardly affectionate to them as you are to him, always clinging to him physically. And you don't complain or every object to anything, you just smile and say yes and do it. It makes him happy in a weird way he can't quite articulate. A warm swell of pride, a feeling of success. You have vague memories of a time when you were breaking into houses just to scrape by, not knowing when you'd eat next, not knowing where you'd sleep. It's kind of a fuzzy memory now. You don't have to worry about those things anymore, and you're a lot happier this way.

[redrobin-detective]

Side Effects of ghost powers

Hey all! I’m writing a DP fic called Side Effects exploring the physical and later mental/emotional impact of Danny initially getting his ghost powers. As an ICU stepdown nurse for 3 years, I wanted to view Danny’s accident through a slightly more realistic, medical lens. 

Note: I had to fudge a good amount because Danny really should have fucking died and there’s no getting around that.

I do recommend you read the fic first before reading this as there’s some spoilers. Or if you don’t care you can read on. So! The two factors we are looking at regarding the accident are: ecto-contamination secondary to electrocution. 

Electrocution

I was forced to downplay a lot of the severe symptoms of electrocution because, again, a bad enough shock will kill someone. My hand-wavey explanation is simply that the portal didn’t activate at a deadly voltage so he got a good shock but not enough to be fatal. I guess.

Muscle weakness/spasms: intermittent muscle spasms are common from shocks, muscles being activated by electricity and reacting to the lingering impulses. Danny’s is transient but quite annoying for a time. But his muscles are gonna be weak and achy af for days if not weeks after from the massive contractions caused by the shock and the after effects. Sensory issues: lots of things can cause nerve damage, including electrocution so Danny is experiencing some pretty severe neuropathy primarily manifesting with numbness and tingling throughout his body. His entire skin and peripheral nervous system got fried so while its mostly numb it’s also super sensitive for a bit of time causing massive pain and discomfort from your body tingling like a thousand bee stings. It’s worst in the hours after the accident but is something that never quite really goes back to normal both from the electrocution and his ghost half taking over and generally dulling his sense of touch.

Hearing/Vision loss: Like skin/nerves, your sensory organs in your eyes and ears would be affected by such a severe and allover electric shock. Danny has some blurred and occasionally double vision from his eyes not properly receiving/understanding input. Hearing loss is common following electricity given how delicate the inner ear is but I just give Danny some nasty tinnitus (ear ringing) for a bit. This inner ear problem also massively throws off his balance when he’s trying to move post accident. These factors are exacerbated by the ecto-contamination and mostly fade in the days following the accident before going away as his superhuman healing kicks in.

Heart Arrhythmia: an irregular heartbeat caused by the electrical impulses that control basal heartrate not coordinating they they should for a variety of reasons, in this case, massive electric shock. Danny would be somewhat aware of it, its not exactly painful exactly but you can just feel that your heart isn’t beating right. Secondary side effects are dizziness, chest pain, fatigue and shortness of breath. This resolves almost entirely when Danny stabilizes

Cognitive issues: Danny got his brains a little scrambled in addition to his molecules being rearranged. The first third of the story Danny is very clearly NOT thinking straight and Tucker/Sam should not have left him alone. Shocks can cause things like irrational emotional behaviors from hormone release along with memory loss and depression. He constantly waxes and wanes in mood and opinions on what to do in the story and never comes to a true decision that, damn lucky for him, worked out on its own.

Ecto-Contamination

Alright so Danny got massively shocked, sucks right but people live through that all the time. Ecto-contamination is more tricky (not only cause its made up and I had to think about what symptoms it would theoretically produce) but because the effects are more life threatening. It’s also irreversible, once he was contaminated it was only something that could be survived not cured. 

So I theorized that Danny got shocked by the accident and was slowly dying of ecto-contamination and was pretty much clinically dead for a brief moment there, the death was enough for the large quantity of ectoplasm in him to immediately coalesce into a ghost (Phantom). So Danny was mostly dead but not quite, I’ve coded and brought back enough people to know it can be reversed somewhat. Danny becomes Phantom but the sudden stable formation of the ectoplasm into what its supposed to be, a ghost, caused his body to stop fighting the ectoplasm as a foreign invader and become part of the self. His core finished forming in his chest and his body started back up again, his ghost safely nestled in his once again living body as he slowly comes to grips with his actual death experience. 

Nausea/Vomiting: I likened the idea of ecto-contamination to radiation poisoning, something that is essentially the antithesis to life. One of the first symptoms of radiation is n/v which is also why it’s one of the first overt symptoms Danny has. He was heavily electrocuted/irradiated and his body wants to expunge it all. As for the ectoplasm/blood he vomits, that’s the next section. 

Gastrointestinal (GI) Bleed: So I was a little mean here. When one vomits up blood (or in this case ectoplasm/blood mix) it has to come from somewhere and a lot of the times it’s a GI Bleed. These are nasty, they need to be either cauterized or surgically repaired not to mention replenishing the blood lost. Fanon says that ectoplasm is at least mildly corrosive to humans so it is here, as it’s bonding to him, it’s literally eating him very slowly from the inside out which is causing a great deal of his internal pain. It’s not enough to be immediately life threatening but would kill him eventually. He developed some nasty bleeding ulcers in his stomach which let in blood and ectoplasm which were expunged. Danny’s core formed overnight and began healing the damage it had previously been causing but Dan is still gonna be vomiting excess blood/ectoplasm not to mention having black, tarry stools for at least a few days afterwards.

Hypothermia/Tremors: Hypothermia is when the body hits 95F/35C which Danny is just above at the start of the chapter. Danny initially starts shaking really bad (rigors) but as his body temperature cools further his shaking slows and eventually stops, a sure sign that the body is rapidly losing the fight to hypothermia and will likely die soon without immediate intervention. This is caused not only by the ectoplasm but his ice core shakily starting to form inside of him. Once he fully turns half ghost his hypothermia doesn’t change but it just no longer negatively affects him (I say Danny hovers naturally around 96-95F/35-33C getting much colder as Phantom at baseline. His body still can be damaged by going too cold but that’s a whole other post.) 

Incoherency/Hallucinations: I mentioned in the electrocution section that Danny is more than a little addled and the contamination didn’t help in that regard. Not only is he not thinking clearly but he’s also getting a little delirious and seeing things. Common hallucinations I see are: someone in the room watching you, things crawling on the walls, creeping shadows, you’re in the wrong place. I think its a solid 50/50 as far as Danny straight up hallucinating but also becoming more aware of natural ectoplasm that hangs around in the atmosphere. (And before anyone asks, yes Clockwork did come and visit, Danny just doesn’t remember)

Pain: Being electrocuted, irradiated, being dissolved slowly on the inside is enough to cause massive amounts of pain. Danny is 14, he doesn’t understand true pain and probably underestimated how much it would hurt. Once it got bad, it was almost paralyzing so it got to the point where even when he wanted to call for help, he couldn’t move or think past the horrible pain of his every molecule slowly dying and rearranging itself.

Weakness/Fatigue: I don’t really have anything much to add for this section that hasn’t been said in the others. Just the combination of all of the above meant Danny is so incredibly weak and fatigued, this will be problematic in the days and weeks following the accident as his body heals from the stress put on it. Poor boy was probably just getting past the worst of his symptoms by the time of the Lunch lady attack one month in.

Ghost instinct: Going off the medical rant for a minute to go into another aspect of the contamination present in the story, the idea of ectoplasm adding inherent ghostiness to Danny. Its common fanon that all ghosts (through ectoplasm) have their own unique code and language that is just omnipresent and instinctive. Such a massive, body altering dose of ectoplasm saw those things start to leech into Danny even before he became half ghost. The biggest is his fear of being seen, majority of ghosts are completely invisible and don’t want to be seen by the living. As Danny’s suffering and literally dying, he can’t bring himself to confess to his loved ones for very understandable reasons but also this ghostly instinct in the back of his head telling him to hide and get away. Other instincts are a strong attraction to the portal/Ghost Zone, lowkey being able to sense living people around him and a bit of an emotional dampener when Phantom. 

[dreamersdreamloud]

Coming Home To You (Part 2)

AN: Kara is not Supergirl. She’s human and a reporter :) 

Many of you have requested a part two so here you go! This is part of a book that I’m working on so enjoy this sneak peek 

“This was a mistake.” Lena paces around inside her penthouse. 

Kara stands awkwardly in the middle of Lena’s living room. She watches her lover in distress, her mind running into a million thoughts. What would Alex say when she finds out? What would Eliza think of her when she finds out? 

She betrayed her oldest sister. It looks bad but most importantly she feels terrible. Kara let her temptations get the best of her. She shouldn’t have gotten so close to Lena when (Y/N) was away. She shouldn’t have comforted her most of the time when they heard the news that (Y/N) went missing during a mission. 

They shouldn’t have assumed that the person they care and love for was dead without any hard evidence. 

“Did you know?! Did you know that she was alive this whole time?!” Lena yells at the blonde Danvers. 

Kara was taken by surprise that Lena is yelling at her. She never yells at her. She never experienced her anger toward her. 

“What? No! Of course not!” Kara quickly replies. 

“How could you not know?! You literally write about international news, war stories, political topics, Kara!” 

“I’m just a reporter, Lena! I’m not a damn government spy! When I heard about my sister going missing. . . I tried to find leads, Lena! I TRIED! Nothing came out. No trace. No witnesses. No clues of what happened to my sister and her team!” 

Lena shakes her head in silence. Her tears were starting to form again. The young CEO thinks about the decisions she has made that have come to this very moment. She shouldn’t have accepted the youngest Danvers’ help and comfort when (Y/N) wasn’t around. She was a fool for falling for Kara’s touch and caring words. 

She tragically replaced (Y/N)’s kisses with Kara’s. 

“I need to find her. . . I need to find (Y/N).” Lena frantically says. “I just need to explain to her that this was a mistake. None of this was serious.” 

Kara looks into the floor and shakes her head in disapproval. 

“Lena . . .” 

“I’m sure she’ll understand. She has always been reasonable, right? God where could she be. A local bar! I just need to look up the local bars. She can’t be far. I-” 

“LENA!” Kara interrupted. 

The raven haired stops rambling and looks at Kara with frustration. 

“WHAT KARA?! I need to find your sister! I need to fix my relationship with her!” 

“What about us?” Kara questions her actions, her reasoning. 

Lena huffs out a laugh, “Us? There’s no us, Kara! This was a mistake. I MADE A MISTAKE. I love your sister, Kara. You know that!” 

It pains Kara to hear those words coming out of Lena’s mouth. Kara fell in love with Lena. In all truth, she fell in love with her while you were dating Lena. She kept it to herself. The youngest Danvers didn’t want to ruin the relationship you have with Lena. She thought that you being “dead” was an opportunity for her to have a chance being with the young CEO. 

Lena sobs, her knees falling to the ground. The stress and frustrations are getting to her. Kara didn’t hesitate to be by her side, comforting her the best she could without making the situation worse. Lena cries against Kara’s shoulder. 

“It’s not ideal to go out and find my sister, Lena. We should probably wait until tomorrow. Let her cool off. I’ll find her first thing in the morning and make this right.” 

“Okay.” Lena mumbles. 

**** 

It’s been three whole days that you haven’t stepped out of your hotel room. You have cried endlessly. Scream multiple times. You even broke a couple of items in the room. You drank until you blackout and woke up repeating the same thing you did yesterday. 

You have decided that you need to put your hurt feelings aside. You need to reunite with your family and friends. You mentally think about how you’re going to pretend that you didn’t see Kara and Lena a few days ago. You will keep your distance. You will maintain your cover. 

Your captain has already arranged your new deployment. You will be leaving at the end of the month and have a new assignment to take over. Your plan is to just get away from here. 

You've been in the bathroom for a while. Looking at yourself in the mirror. It’s obvious that it looks like you have gotten no sleep. You can just pass it off and just say that your military position doesn't give you enough sleep

You fix the imperfections of your new set of uniform before heading out. You take a deep breath and hope that no one catches you acting differently. 

*** 

Location: Lena’s Office 

“I can’t find her, Lena.” Kara desperately says. 

Lena looks out to the window, standing straight as possible. She was keeping her distance from the youngest Danvers. She can’t trust herself being near the reporter. 

“HOPE can’t find her too. The face recognition hasn’t picked up her face anywhere. . .” 

Kara’s phone rings out loud. The reporter sighs because it’s her sister, Alex. She hasn’t talked to her since you confronted your youngest sister. Kara hopes that Alex hasn’t found out, she can’t bear to handle Alex’s lecture and disappointment. 

Kara answers the call and puts it on speaker for Lena to hear as well. 

Kara: “Hello?” 

Alex: “Kara! Where are you?!” She said cheerfully. 

Kara: “I’m following a lead for my article. Why what’s up?” 

Alex: “(Y/N) is back! She’s alive, Kara! She’s alive!” 

Kara fumbles her words, not knowing how to react or say. She didn’t want to ruin her sister’s excitement. 

Alex: “Get over here at the DEO. J’onn have already picked up Eliza. They’re on their way back here. Bring Lena!” 

The call ended without Kara saying another word. Alex was too happy and excited to see you again. She’s happy that she gets to see you “first.” 

*** 

*A few hours earlier*

You didn’t head straight to the DEO to surprise your sister, Alex. You made a quick stop despite the situation you were in. The Uber car pulls up to the two story house that you were looking for. There’s physical changes to the house last time you came here. The grass was looking more green and the roses were more full. By looking at the driveway, the two people you wanted to see are still home. 

You rang the doorbell once and you can tell that someone is on their way to answer the door. You mentally ready yourself before they open the door. 

A woman gasped as they answered the door and saw you standing firmly in the middle. 

“(Y/N)?” Eve can’t believe her eyes. 

“Eve, who’s at the door?” Lex calls out in the background. 

Eve was speechless that she couldn’t answer her husband. Lex was a tad worried that Eve wasn’t answering him right away. The man makes her way to the door and gives the same shocking reaction as his wife. 

“(Y/N)! You bastard! You’re alive!” He shouts with joy. 

You smiled at both of them. You step in to give Eve a hug and then give Lex the same affection. Immediately, Lex can tell that there’s something wrong. He just knows. The man has always been like a brother to you and he feels the same way too. 

The married couple lead you to the living room to have a more comfortable environment to catch up. They didn’t have to worry about being late to their work since they’re technically the bosses of their own department at L-Corp. Eve comes in with some tea and mini sandwiches for everyone. The three made small talk, giving them the truth about what really happened in the months you were missing. 

Lex and Eve felt sorry for you how much pain and recovery you have to go through alone after that accident happened. You assure them that it wasn’t a big deal and that you’re very happy to live another day. 

After the good catch up, Lex thought it was time to find out what was bothering you. 

“(Y/N). . Why exactly are you here? Aren’t you supposed to see your sisters first? Or perhaps Lena?” 

You looked to the side, took a deep breath and sighed loudly. Your mind goes back to Lena. 

“Did you know?” You vaguely ask your ex-girlfriend’s brother. 

“Know what?” Lex replies, Eve looks equally confused. This confirms that no one knows, especially your mother and Alex. 

“About Kara and Lena. . .” Lex thinks for a moment before he replies. 

“All I know is that they’re close. When you were away, Kara had been keeping Lena company.” 

You nodded. He’s telling the truth. Small anger was inside you but you’re mad at Lex. You start to get mad at yourself for not being around much. 

“I caught them. . . I found your sister with my sister. It was clear that the love bites and the flushed redden cheeks on Lena were from Kara. . .” 

Lex suddenly feels stupid for not seeing this. He thinks about how he didn’t see the little hints that his sister was having a lover, becoming a cheater. Eve looks at you with sad eyes, she gets up and wraps you in a hug. 

“(Y/N) I don’t know what to say . . . I just - I really didn’t know. If only I have seen it sooner I would have prevented Lena from making those-” 

“Lex no.” You interrupted him. “Your sister is her own person. She can decide what she wants to do. You couldn’t have prevented her feelings for someone else. I’m not mad at you Lex. You’re always like a brother to me. You have helped me so much and I will continue to do the same. Despite the situation. This is between Lena and I.” 

Lex sucks in his lips and nods, “Did the two of you officially break up or talk about it?” 

“No. I left right when I found out. My heart is really fragile at the moment but I promise you like I promised to Lillian years ago that I will not harm Lena in any way. I have never physically abused her and I will not let this dictate my actions.” 

“You’re a good person, (Y/N). I’m sorry that it had to come out like this. I was desperately waiting for the two of you to get married someday. Getting the chance to call you my sister-in-law.”

You sadly laugh. You almost forgot about the ring that was attached to your military dog tags. You reveal your necklace to Lex and Eve. Eve was the first to react fast. 

“(Y/N)! That ring looks so beautiful!” Eve focused on the diamond on the ring. It wasn’t too small nor too big. It was the perfect size. 

“Damnit Lena.” Lex says under his breath while his wife talks to (Y/N) about the ring. “You better realize that you threw out the best Danvers sister. This one was going to marry you.”