#so yeah youre damn right i took a three hour nap after that

[queenimmadolla]

𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

(eddie munson x pregnant!reader)

Summary: You and Eddie discuss your current pregnancy craving...or, in which you want something not all that common of a craving and ridiculously difficult to get a hold of, and Eddie teases you over it even though you both know he's going to get it for you.

warnings: references to baby making activities.

a/n: those damn tiktoks keep getting to me. lil drabble. more dad!eddie here. masterlist.

Pregnancy was not something Eddie Munson believed he would ever understand. Wasn’t something he thought he’d have to do.

  Until—at the very responsible age of twenty─he took to finishing inside of you and one of his swimmers took. Played hide-and-seek for a good five months before either of you knew she was there.

  You hadn’t started showing until about two or three weeks after finding out, and now at almost seven months, you had the cutest baby bump Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off, a ravenous hunger for the most peculiar things and absolutely no tolerance for the weirdest fucking things; the sound of kernels popping made you want to throw up, and so did the scent of baked goods and the ‘air on Tuesdays’ (Eddie was still trying to work that one out).

  Whatever you wanted, Eddie got you. Albeit, with tons of questions asked. Like, right now.

  It was late in the evening, chilly throughout the trailer but warm in the room thanks to the trusty space heater Eddie had had for years. The both of you had traded your day clothes for pajamas, so you were in one of his t-shirts and nothing else while he was only clad in a pair of sweats because his body temperature always ran a little on the hot side, and you were curled right up to him. Your head had been previously nuzzling into the crook of his neck, placing kisses over the tendons there and nosing along his jaw but now it was craned back, batting those pretty eyelashes up at him with pleading eyes and a pout.

  “Pleeeaaaaase, Eddie?”

  “Branzino.” Eddie repeated your request with amused disbelief.

  “It’s low in mercury, so I can eat it.”

  “Branzino.”

  “It’s what she wants!” You chirped, moving a hand to rest over your growing bump. Baby Munson, your little Penny, had recently learned she had legs and could stretch them out in there. Despite the two of you settling down, she seemed to be filled with energy; you could feel her moving around, targeting certain areas with her kicks. She’d been pretty still for a good hour or two so you thought she might have woken up from a nap. 

  “Yeah?” Eddie asked, quirking his brows with lidded eyes, so engrossed with how caring you were for his baby already. 

  Witnessing you go from awkwardly acknowledging her existence with a pat or uncertain conversation to almost always having a hand over your bump, as if to protect her from a threat while talking to her as though she was already cradled in your arms, had Eddie always so tender with emotion. 

  He was so proud and in love.

  You hummed in confirmation and when Eddie’s hand moved your (his) shirt up, you immediately grasped his wrist to place his palm over the area your baby’s foot was currently pressing up against. Eddie grinned as he felt the movement just under the warmth of your skin, firm and held surprisingly long before it retreated and he rubbed over the area as you relaxed further into him.

  “She was stretching.” He correctly deduced. 

  “Mhm, she’s been kicking the heck out of my ribcage, so I think her head is right here.” You placed your free hand over your bump, just under your left breast, “She only got active after we showered, so she just woke up.”

  Eddie felt a little guilty about that, it had probably been him railing you against the shower wall that stirred her from her slumber.

  “Sorry, sweet pea.” He mumbled, continuing to rub your belly if not somewhat more apologetic, “I’m just so excited that I can’t get your mom pregnant right now, ‘cause we already have you, and she’s just so horn—“

  Eddie laughed as you delivered a swift whack to his chest with the back of your hand, fighting a smile as he teased you through an attempt to talk to your baby.

  “Excuse me, you were the one trying to feel me up on the couch!”

  “No, I did feel you up. And if I recall correctly, which I do, it was my fingers you were cum—“

  “Distracting!” You pointed an accusatory finger in his face, booping the tip of his nose with it, “You’re trying to distract me. Branzino.”

  “Ugh,” Eddie sagged into the pillows, but the smirk on his face told you you’d be getting exactly what you wanted, like always. He just liked to give you a hard time. Banter with you was like foreplay to him. “Alright, alright. Since you must have your fish dish─”

  “I must,” You placed the back of your hand against your forehead as you fell dramatically back into the pillows.

  “And since she’s craving it─”

  “She wants branzino so badly and I’d get it for her myself but I’m utterly exhausted─no, not because we had sex,” You had immediately clocked the grinch like twist in his smirk at your mentioning of exhaustion, “I’ll have you know I probably made a good chunk of her brain today. That takes energy. Dedication. And she probably sucked the bone marrow out of me to do it, or something.”

  Eddie threw his head back and howled with laughter. You giggled along with him but tried to reason, “Okay, I’m not being completely dramatic, though! She really does steal some of my own body to make hers! I could lose my teeth, Eddie. I read it in a book.”

  The bed shook with how hard Eddie was laughing and you delighted in being the reason behind it. Once he calmed down, his head lulled to the side, cheeks red from all that amusement and warm brown hues focused on you.

  “You read it in a book, huh?”

  “Yup.”

  “Ask your doctor about it?”

  “Nope.”

  “Why not?”

  “…’Cause I’m scared she’ll say it’s true.”

  You sent Eddie into another laughing fit. When he was done with that one, he launched himself out of bed and you snuggled into the spot he’d occupied—so warm and cozy—to watch him grab a shirt and hoodie from the closet, and his jacket from where he’d thrown it on the dresser. A beanie was shoved on his head and as he wrapped the scarf you’d gotten him around his neck, he eyed you with mirth twinkling in his pretty eyes.

  “Branzino in the middle of winter.”

  “It’s what she wants!”

  “It’s what she wants.” He conceded with a fond smile, “I’ll be back after like an hour and a half of driving around to find a Greek place open so you can replenish your bone marrow with it somehow and grow the rest of her brain.”

  You hummed in appreciation, beaming at him as he neared you to lean over and get a thorough kiss goodbye. 

  “Thank you,” You mumbled shyly against his mouth.

  “You don’t have to thank me . . . but you’re welcome.” He teased.

  Driving around in the cold didn't seem all that terrible with you blowing him kisses from the bed, and his baby growing inside you. 

  That damn fish was so worth it.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x reader #girl dad!eddie munson #girl dad!eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie munson x mom!reader #pennyverse #dilf!eddie munson x reader #dilf!eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x pregnant!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x afab!reader #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things vol 1 #stranger things vol 2 #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #queenimmadolla

[transfemarmin]

42!Miles x Sleepy!Reader

Ms. Rio loooovvveeessss reader and she even comes over when Miles isn’t there to hang out with her on days she’s not working

Most of the time reader takes naps in Miles bed with his shirts on and that’s when he usually gets home <33

(•̀ᴗ•́)و SLEEPY..

MILES G. MORALES X SLEEPY! READER

headcanons!

whenever you come to the house, mama rio welcomes you with open arms, now she isn’t gonna lie and say she liked you from the jump because she didn’t; it took some getting used too, before she even trusted you.. miles is her little boy and she loves him more than she loves anything. she just wants the best for him.

but after the three month anniversary, you had asked her about her dislike about you, and nervously gave her this big speech about how much you loved her son, and how you would do nothing but love him.. do nothing but show him how much you love him and show her how much you love her son.. is when she finally loosened up.

she feeds you, she has a photo of you and miles in her phone case, telling others..

“ this is mi mijo and his girlfriend! she’s beautiful isn’t she?”

whenever you come over, and you’re sleepy, she tries her best to keep you up until miles comes home

“ ah mija.. you wanna help me cook?”

“ I’m trying to learn how to knit… you wanna watch tutorials with me?”

“ let’s take a walk!”

it doesn’t take long before she’s giving up though, you’re a growing girl, and also a student at Vision’s Academy! It’s where you and miles met; she knows from a few sleepless nights her son has had that that school is tough, that doesn’t stop her from encouraging you two to do your best for your future.

so, now whenever she sees you walk through the door, with your bonnet in hand.. she sends a simple greeting

“ hey.. you sleepy? miles isn’t here right now.. I’ll tell him to get you when he comes back.”

“ okay mama.”

“ I love you.”

“ thank you, love you too.”

and then you’d be going into miles’ room; bonnet over your afro and falling down into his bed

the sleep would usually only last about a few hours before you feel the bed weigh down, your body going on high alert and waking you up, just to see your boyfriend in front of you.

“ woah.. mami, what’s wrong with you?”

“ nothing.. I just got a little scared.”

he would chuckle at your words, giving you a kiss on the cheek, his own bonnet on his own head as he laid down next to you

something he did whenever he got home and saw you fast asleep in his bed, he loved sleeping next to you.

BUT…

when he finds you in his shirts, is when he’s usually nothing but a giggling mess; the shirts go to your mid thigh, it’s never you wearing JUST his shirt, you always have a pair of his sweatpants on as well..

but he takes pictures of you, sleeping in his clothes ( sometimes even in his bonnet when you forget yours or come straight to his home on fridays)

he definitely sends the pictures to ganke; teasing him about how he has a beautiful girlfriend who wears his clothes & ganke doesn’t

“ look at my mami in my clothes..”

“ oh sorry.. I forgot you don’t know what it’s like..”

“ okay.. you know what-“

he had made it his profile picture on Instagram for a few hours.. a picture of you dressed in clothes that belonged to him, with drool running down your face, and sprawled out all crazy.. he only changed it after one of the guys from his old school that followed him said you were a baddie even while dressed casual

Yeah.. he wasn’t playing that, he loves to show you off, but if these niggas that was supposed to be his friends was showing out like that.. he was gonna keep his girl hidden from then on.

waking up in his arms though >>>

although when you first wake up, he’s sleep his damn self, and it’s a bit of a jumpscare; because miles is a guy who snores.. I will die on this, he snores.

it’s loud and obnoxious to the point he has to force himself to stay up so he doesn’t get on your nerves.

but you love him nonetheless.. and you love waking up to his gorgeous face too

#miles morales x reader #miles morales #across the spider verse #spiderman x reader #miles x you #pavitr x reader #gwen stacy x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x fem!reader

[hajimeshoe]

overblot squad with an MC/S/O who was done with life the second they entered twisted wonderland.

The no bullshit type who also instigates when in goofy moods. They don't smile often.

Anyone who threatens them... it kinda goes like "give me a reason... I dare you..." and s/o will fuck your life up if you physically harm them.

They have a resting bitch face, and they ALWAYS look angry or annoyed. A lot of people ask if they're upset.

When in contact with overblots, instead of trembling with fear, they act like they just got told to do chores as they started doing chores.

And when they deal with overblots in fights, they genuinely get annoyed when the overblot squad acts like they're the only ones dealing with that kind of stuff. (Literally looked at Jamil and told him he was a slave to people born richer than him just like everyone else)

A realist and pessimist at the same time.

Sleeps way more than Leona, and will not wake up until they feel like living. And their social meter is extremely low.

They eat a lot. Like- a lot. And they will sleep it all off

MBTI is an INTP to give you the rest of the context

Coolio! I'm an ISTP-T, which I found out while trying to figure out different MBTI personality types because I was hella confused. Also, We don't technically know who's overblotting from Diasomnia yet, right??? So I can leave my precious dragon boy out of this, right??? No? Well, it was worth a try *cries in not wanting to think about a Malleus overblot* -Sorry this took so long! I just moved and had no wi-fi until today

OB!Gang with INTP S/O

Riddle

Would honestly be frustrated

"You've broken fifteen of our 810 rules in less than an hour! How DARE you!"

He was apologetic after he overblot and stopped getting on your case for every dorm rule you broke.

No wonder you're friends with Ace and Deuce

Wants you to stop causing fights so badly

Like, why are you either causing fights or sleeping??? Are you secretly related to Leona???

"Wait, you told Jamil WHAT?"

Leona

Bro gets sick of you when you're awake at this point-

Like, he threatened to turn you to sand during his overblot and you just held out your hand with a sarcastic smile-

Honestly, though, he's glad you aren't opposed to his naps or sleep schedule, a lot of the time he'll also be willing to nap with you even if he's already had one

But if Ruggie wake's him up, then he's trying to wake you up too <3

Fairs fair, after all

He doesn't give a fuckk if you instigate fights, he'll watch it in amusement

Azul

You would get along with Floyd so damn well and Azul swears on what little of his sanity is left that you two are never meeting

Both of you would be causing fights together left and right-

He loves you, he does, but- OH FUCK THE TWEELS ARE HERE! Take a nap while he locks you in his office where you three can never meet, yeah?

He's also low-key wondering if you're Leona's secret sibling or something despite the fact that you're magicless

He'll let you sleep in his office when you need to

He also does everything in his power to try to get you to smile and gets a little insecure when he's unsuccessful

Azul just starts to have some self-doubts because "I'm their boyfriend, why can I never make them happy?"

However, cuddles and reassurances can fix this!

He did get a kick out of you looking at Jamil and telling him to get over it

Jamil

Jamil is just glad that you don't need 24/7 supervision

You won't burn down the house trying to cook, you won't somehow accidentally cut your arm off with a spoon and you can be left alone longer than a toddler without anything going to hell?

In this case, he practically considers you perfect with how often he's dealing with Kalim

Also, you were egging him on when he overblotted???

What's wrong with you? You have no magic-

Oh, wow...you won...

"Everyone's a slave to richer people, Jamil, get over it and eat a snickers or some shit!"

Okay, first of all, you're audacity-

Aaaand now he's stuck with you

"Isn't it supposed to be "You kidnapped me, I'm calling the cops?"

"Nope! You kidnapped me, so you clearly want to put up with my bullshit!"

The only actual issues he has is when he has to go drag you out of a fight or get you to stop hyping others into fighting for your entertainment

Then he just hypnotizes you and pulls you away while scolding you like some sort of child

Honestly looked up child leashes on the twst version of Amazon to see if they had a two pack (one for you and one for Kalim)

Vil

"Love, don't start fights, it's not beautiful at all", "My sweet potato, sleeping too much can be bad for your skin!", "SPUD! As much as I love you, if you do not cease this nonsense then so help me-"

All are common phrases from Vil when it comes to you ❤

Just tell me- how did he fall in love with you??? Like, you're a cross between Kingscholar and Epel and he is about ready to pull an evil queen on both of them some days

But he adores you despite your incorrigible habits that he tries to help you break

Don't expect to sleep in when dating Vil, though. Once he decides you've had enough? He's cursing your bed, pillows and blankets

All in the name of love, he swears!

Idia

Idia tries to get you to just stay in his room with him to stop you from getting into fights

He's respectful - lets you sleep for as long as you want

Although he get's a little loud when he plays video games sometimes

Ortho will honestly bother you more about your sleep schedule than him

Malleus

Confused dragon boi <3

He's a sweetheart and is confused as to why you're starting fights "Because it's fun"

Totally did not ask Sebek to accompany you during school hours in order to protect you, keep you awake during lectures, and keep you out of fights- definitely not, how rude of you to accuse him of that

he would never, Malleus is completely innocent!

"Malleus Draconia, I am TRYING to sleep so if you do not get your screaming cucumber from my bedroom then so help me nobody will be able to save his suicidal ass!"

Oh, you're pissed off now

Welp, time for him to go save Sebek from his (surprisingly dangerous) magicless Child of Man

#twst #twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader

[anniebear-92]

Afterlife

Part Three - He's Back

Summary: Bakugo discovers he's no longer alone. His new, good looking roommate is the first person to see him in a long time and now she's ignoring him! Or is she? Also she gets another case and finally has some fun.

Warnings: Mentions of death, death of an animal, adult jokes and cursing.

Tag-list: @browneyedgirl22 @simplybaconic @ghostofscarley @optimisticprime3 @lukerycyja-reblogs @eyesforbkg

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

Katsuki Bakugo tried everything over the next few days to get his new roommate to see him. He tried throwing things, jumping out from behind doors, walls and closets. Screaming until he thought his lungs would burst, doing anything really to make her glance, flinch or something at all that indicated she truly saw him.

He took note of her habits during this time, what she liked to eat in the morning, dressing styles, nightly routine and right now her biggest habit he observed? Not sleeping.

She spent all hours of the night on her phone, reading, scrolling social medias or watching some new show. He had taken to watching said show with her on the couch, even if she had no idea there was company.

Bored out of his noggin' he nosed into the other rooms, finding a bed in his parent's old space. Inside the closets were men's clothing and other belongings that indicate there should be more than just the girl living here. Even so, she was the only person he saw come or go... when she did go out. She spoke on the phone with others only briefly and on the few adventures out of the house were brief. She seemed to have an aversion to human interaction simliar to him.

He curled into the side of the couch, back hanging over the arm rest as he groaned in frustration. Currently she was on the phone with a man named "Toshi," asking him how his mission was going.

Katsuki leaned up while placing his chin into his palm to contemplate what else he could try catching her attention with. She had been here a full week (that he had been awake for) and nothing seemed to work, he was past frustrated, sliding into livid.

"You really need to get some sleep." The male's deep voice cut through his thoughts from the phone sitting on the table. She had placed the device on speaker so she could be free to eat her dinner as she spoke. "Yeah I know." Her voice grumbled in response.

The bags under her eyes did not do her justice, she looked like absolute shit who needed a nap immediately. At most during the week he could only count a few hours if not minutes where she had nodded off.

"I can tell you're in one of your funks. Not sleeping, binging your latest show and texting me non stop." She placed her empty plate beside her and leaned into a pillow with a deep noise of annoyance.

"How do you always know this shit when you're not even here? It's like you never left!"

He snorted while continuing, "We've been friends and roommates long enough for me to know your habits F/N."

Katsuki's ears perked up at the use of your name. He had not been able to figure out what you were called as of yet, no real mail had come to the house for him to snoop into. It had a nice ring to it though.

"So in conclusion, get some damn sleep. Denki and I will be back home in a couple weeks, our mission is going really smoothly. If we're lucky we'll be home in the next couple weeks at most with the culprit behind bars."

She hummed in affirmation and gave a false promise to get some rest. "Be safe and tell Denks too okay?"

Denki? Denki Kaminari? Katsuki's head tilted in interest now at his old classmate's name, if he also put two and two together to make sense. Toshi, would be Hitoshi Shinso, purple haired, sleep deprived Aizawa clone from UA.

After the call concluded you placed the phone away from you and did not heed his words in the least. Resuming your show and forgoing bedtime that evening as well.

The next morning Katsuki hatched a plan. He was going to practice interacting with things so he could build up his strength and hopefully show her he was there.

In a stare down with the soulless, dark eyes of a stuffed dog toy, he chewed his lip. "You're going against the wall wither or not you like it creature!"

He reached forward, hand slipping right through the damn animal's smiling face. With a grunt he tried once again to yield the same result. "Fucking, come on!" He growled, continuing to waive his hand through the dog.

"It's a fucking toy!" He roared in frustration, his palm shooting forward out of habit to use his quirk that had always been there.

The toy slammed against the wall and his eyes widened with surprise as a gasp escaped his chest. "I did it." He mumbled triumphantly.

He looked around for you only to find you picking the toy up and giving it an apology. "Sorry buddy, didn't mean to hit you with that closet door."

Dammit, he'd have to try harder.

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

Your phone rang in the wee hours of the morning, making you shoot up at the shrill noise. Having finally nodded off for the first time in a couple days and someone had to go and ruin that. Fucking people.

Should've taken Toshi's advice and gotten a good night's rest a few days ago. However as predicted that little girl seemed to haunt her dreams every time your eyes closed.

On top of that a chill had almost constantly been running up your spine, indicating the proximity of a spirit. Though not one glance, from the corner of your eye or any noises out of place since you had seen the man near the fridge.

Finally answering the phone that was most likely on it's last ring, you cleared your throat. "Inspector what can I do for you at... five thirty am?"

Rubbing your sleepy eye you heard a small chuckle on the other line. "My apologies did I wake you Phantom?"

You rolled your eyes while leaning into the pillow that had been your cradle just a few moments ago. When he didn't get a response he continued, "I have a case opportunity for you, should you be interested."

A yawn was his initial response, "Clearly if you're calling me, I would assume you're not calling me for a date."

He could be hear coughing and choking on most likely a sip of coffee or bite of breakfast while you waited. "I was drinking coffee, that wasn't fair."

Bingo.

You shook your head with an affectionate smile on your lips, knowing damn well the inspector was happily married to another office he had met a few years prior.

"Well what's this case?"

He sighed while the sound of shuffling on the other side indicated he was cleaning up a mess or looking through files before he continued. "A man who was recently put in jail for a string of murders is declining to lead us to where he buried his victims. We we're in the hopes you could help us locate them by contact or persuasion."

Another yawn wracked your chest as you contemplated responding. "Anything else you got for me? Preferably not as gruesome? I am gonna be honest here Inspector I haven't gotten much sleep since we saw each other last over the previous case we just finished. I don't think I could deal with something like that right now or channel anyone properly. After some good sleep? Yeah, maybe. Right now? No."

He shuffled some more papers before offering another solution. "I do have a request from a hero agency that asked for you personally. It's a team up with Cellophane and Pinky. They need your help finding a lost cat."

You scratched your nose for a minute while pondering if you heard him right. "A cat. Find a lost cat?"

He affirmed as you scoffed, "How is that a job for me?" He chuckled in response and continued with clear amusement in his voice.

"The request is mostly to help confirm if the cat is among the living or not. Call came in from the owner's son who insists the cat has passed on, but his father is denying and stating the cat has ran away which has happened from time to time apparently. Son claims the cat got sick and was buried a few days ago."

You hummed while cocking a brow, "What are the heroes for then? Surly I could do this by myself?"

"They asked specifically for them I guess, something about helping find it the last time they ran away. Refused anyone else to come out when their agency agreed. They've been having some free time and were more than happy to join up with you."

Pinching the bridge of your nose and contemplating all your life's decisions at this point that led to finding a ghost cat. "All I have to do is fine the cat... right?"

He affirmed and you agreed reluctantly to meet up with the Heroes in a bit. Hanging up the phone after getting the details you fell back into the bed with a groan of frustration. You were too tired to be chasing a cat but rent and utilities do not pay themselves. This case should be a cakewalk.

This was not a cakewalk, it was Bullshit.

Meeting up with Cellophane and Pinky who had greeted you with major enthusiasm. It was not the first time you had worked with them and they were honestly one of your favorite heroes to chat with on the job. They had both gladly shown you their new prototype glasses that had come from Hatsume inc, supposedly geared to pick up signatures from those who had passed on.

In theory, they could see the cat just like you could. You was mostly here for confirmation and also because unlike everyone there, you could actually see the cat and interact with it. Though according to Cellophane, Mei was currently in works on gloves to go with the glasses, but those were still in beta testing phases and not for hero use quite yet.

The son had thanked us for coming out and explained his father's insistence the cat was alive and well, just missing somewhere out in the world. He gave a brief description as a tiger stripped tabby with slight orange markings on her cheeks. Pictures he had showed a rather hearty feline glaring at the camera. Her name was Snickers due to her multi-coloring and that's when he dropped the bomb on us.

The cat had a quirk.

The cat, had a fucking. Quirk.

One that would allow it to teleport short distances, which was serving to piss off my fellow heroes and myself rather quickly. "She enjoyed a good game of tag when she was alive." The son had said.

You had spotted the lazy cat lounging in a tree during the discussions and took it as an opportunity to prove that the glasses worked. Pointing in a general direction you told the heroes to tell you where the cat was, both of them spoke immediately "in the tree."

Well way to go Hatsume, the glasses work!

Now as you all attempted to catch the wascally wabbit, you had narrowly grabbed the cat several times. She would pop a few inches just outside your reach and run away at the last possible second. The chase had been going on for several hours at this point, nearing dinner time promptly as you continued your search.

"Target was spotted in the back yard by the large elm tree."

The pink skinned female's voice cut into your ear piece.

"Hey guys, do you remember that ninja anime from when we were kids? This reminds me of that mission they took with the missing ca-"

"Cellophone, I have had this cat jump out of my hands for the last few hours. Have your ninja fantasy another time."

Pinky's laughter was so loud it rang throughout the entire property and through the ear piece. Once she calmed down a bit she spoke with a wobbly voice threatening to turn back into giggles. "I'm telling Kirishima that Phantom scolded you when we all go out tonight!"

He groaned and grumbled something on the other side when you found the cat once again in your sights.

Giving a reassuring smile to the animal and giving a soft "Pspspsp" with your lips in the attempts to coax the female closer. "Snickers... come here baby girl." Your soft coos fell on deaf ears as Cellophane hung upside down from a tree branch like some off brand Spiderman.

"Go slow." He offered with a wide smile, gritting your own teeth in avoid snapping at the hero once again. Like you didn't know the cat would bolt again if spooked?

The cat's large green eyes lazed over to the both of you, watching her pupil's dilating quickly in excitement before bolting just as your fingers grazed fur.

"MOTHER FU-"

Your snarls of frustration were cut short as tape shot past your face with such speed, quickly gaining on the retreating feline. In a last ditch effort you reached out and your fingers grazed the tape, weaving some spiritual energy into the material just as it finally reached the cat in time.

The Tape wound around the cat and brought it to the ground as you shouted in victory. You hadn't really been sure if that would even work but you were damn glad it did! Ripping the tape from it's source you wrapped it up to slowly approach the struggling fluff.

"Whoa little one, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you... let me get this off of you."

Unwrapping the tape slowly once the cat was secured in your arms. Cellophane jogged over with a ear to ear grin on his face. "Damn! I didn't know if that would even work! I used one of my less sticky tapes so it didn't hurt her but wow!"

You shot him a grin while running a hand over the soft ears. "I didn't either to be honest, I threw some of my quirk energy into it and it somehow turned it into ghost capture tape."

A large palm came down on top of your head affectionately, you flinched back as his expression dropped. "Shit, I'm sorry I forgot..." He stammered an apology as you waived your free hand.

"Don't worry, no harm done." He gave a apologetic smile before his dark eyes fell on the cat. "Wow, I can see it clearly now. The goggles just give me a shape without definition. I knew it was a cat, but that was about it."

He ran a large hand through the cat's soft ears as a low purring rumbled against your arms that cradled her. "Your quirk is pretty damn cool!"

You felt heat rising into your cheeks as those eyes met yours, Pinky's voice cutting through when she finally joined us. "Thanks for letting me know you got her!"

Shooting her a sheepish look, the three of you returned to the front yard where the owner sat in a lawn chair in wait. He jumped from his seat upon seeing the familiar sight in your arms.

"Snickers! Wow you really did find her!" He grinned before popping inside quick enough to bring out his father whose eyes lit up like a firework display.

"See! I told you she was alright! She was just playing hide and seek again!" His affectionately snapped as his son who rolled his eyes without a word. The father stepped forward and attempted to take the cat from your arms with some thanks. You however stepped back just before his hands could touch you or her.

"Sir, there are some things we need to discuss regarding this cat."

He frowned deeply before his face turned into anger. "Listen, I appreciate what you did but I'd like my cat back now. She's been missing for days and I'm not paying you any extra for how long it took to catch her."

Cocking a brow at his audacity, Cellophane stepped forward and placed his hand on the father's shoulder to indicate his words were not acceptable.

"Sir, my colleague has some things you need to hear. They may be difficult but please listen, she's a smart cookie."

He winked at you and you cleared your throat to avoid the heat in your cheeks once again. You quickly explained how your quirk works, that if you were to let the cat go, no one would be able to see or hear it but yourself. Not only were you not going to chase it again, but it was no longer able to go home.

The man's face twisted into confusion and his arguments lasted for several minutes before you had enough.

"I am going to tell you this one last time as kindly as I can sir... " You leaned forward so he could get a good look at your expression, "The cat has passed on. It got sick and passed on according to your son, My quirk is the only thing keeping it on this plane of existence right now. I cannot simply give you the cat because it is Dead. If I let go she will run away and I will not catch it again. So if you are willing I can help her pass on to a peaceful place, otherwise I'm going to drop it and you will not get your chance for goodbyes. Now what would you like to do?"

He stood stunned at your bluntness, eyes dropping to his beloved animal snoozing in your arms. "I do apologize for being brash but apparently our kind words were not enough."

He nodded slowly before reaching out to brush his fingers along the soft fur. "I am sorry too... I raised her from birth you know? I didn't want to believe she was really gone."

He exhaled a long breath before nodding, you placed the cat into his arms while keeping a finger touching her at all times so she did not slip through is arms. After the son and father gave her some proper love and goodbyes, a woman in formal wear stepped up beside you. She gave you a quick nod and you returned the slightest in kind to indicate you had seen her.

"Sir, the cat is ready to go now."

He chewed his lip before giving her one final goodbye, the animal happily leaped from their arms into that of the waiting reaper's. They ran their hand over her soft fur while she let out a few meows in response.

"Let them know she thanks them for her years here with them and all the love they shared. She is ready to go home."

Nodding slightly the woman turned and faded from sight. It was one thing they could do you couldn't, speak to animals. Languages were still a barrier regardless of death or not, if you didn't speak it there was no understanding. Some reapers focused on animal deaths and could communicate properly in order to do their work.

You relayed the reaper's message without mentioning the smartly dressed woman, tears pricked the eyes of both men as they gave their thanks.

Ready to avoid more tears you returned to the police station with the heroes to report the mission a success. The inspector once again indicated a trip to my favorite woman's desk was in order as I exited his office.

"Hey Phantom! Do you want to come out with us tonight?" The pink hero stepped forward before you could pass, attempting to latch onto your arm. Her dark haired friend stopped her before she could with a stern glance.

"Mina we talked about this, personal boundaries."

She gave you a shameful look while chuckling. "Sorry something I never grew out of."

You gave her a small grin while removing your costume's mask.

"It's alright, at least you acknowledge it. Some people do it anyway just to push my buttons and it gets really uncomfortable."

She smiled and quickly elbowed her taller friend in the side. Not so whispering to him "Get her to come with!"

He shot her a warning glance before turning his attention on you. "Phantom.."

You told him to call you by your name since it was now past hero hours. Phantom clocked out the second you got paid.

The tips of his ears turned a dusted pink as he shuffled his feet, placing his helmet under his well toned arm. "Then, Hanta Sero at your service. I don't think I gave you my name in our past dealings."

Mina squealed softly as she watched her friend smile brightly at the pretty girl. Her ship may sail yet!

"Sure Sero, though I don't know about going out tonight. I'm running on low sleep here." You gave a nervous chuckle when the pink hero's face dropped. No! Her ship cannot sink!

"Oh come on! You have to join us! Any time we work with our friends they ask about you! They'd love to see you outside of work!" Her large dark surrounded eyes turned pleading as Hanta adjusted his helmet.

"Kirishima did ask about you recently when I said we were teaming up today." The taller of the two scratched at his cheek gently.

"Kirishima, as in Red Riot?" You tilted your head, only remembering one insistence of working with the hero.

Mina nodded her head enthusiastically "Yeah! He asked how you were doing since Kaminari had mentioned he was moving in with you and Shinso! He's on a mission currently so you'd fit right into his slot!" She pouted while clasping her fingers together in a prayer you'd concede.

With a heavy sigh you looked over both of their pleading faces.

"Only one or two drinks and then I'm going home." You mumbled to their delight.

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

It ended up being not the one or two drinks you had originally promised.

After returning home quick to change and freshen up, you met the duo at the address Ashido had texted you upon finally securing your number. Inside the small bar you found the two sitting with a burly red head, who took up the entire chair and then some with his large body.

The bubblegum haired female waived furiously until you weaved through the tables to join them. "Hey L/N! How are you?" The golden retriever energy radiated off of the large hero even at a distance while shooting you the biggest sharp tooth smile.

Exchanging greetings you noticed some fresh faces along with the ones you had already seen today.

"Ah let me introduce you, I'm sorry if you've already met it's not manly to be a bad host!" He waived his hand towards the others, "This is Shoto Todoroki, or Shoto as he likes to be called on the field. Beside him is the number two hero Deku, Izuku Midoriya."

You waived at them both, only having met the dual haired male one other time. He however had apparently not remembered meeting you, when he stuck out his hand for a shake. "Pleasure to meet you."

You cleared your throat before giving him a soft smile. "Likewise Todoroki, though I'm going to decline your greeting."

He raised a confused brow on his stoic face as Izuku leaned over to whisper quickly in his ear. Todoroki's fingers curled in on his hand as he returned it to his lap with a quick apology. Taking the seat next to Kirishima you were slid a drink.

With all your seniors around you, they quickly got into loud conversations that turned to laughter. You actually found yourself laughing along with much needed stress relief. They quickly convinced you that one drink was not enough, it soon became two... then three.. then enough that you lost count.

Though it was enough to get you on stage for a bad rendition of "Barbie Girl" With Mina, the boys cheering you both on with vigor, drinks spilling as they swayed along.

You both then cheered on the guys as Midoriya and Kirishima chose to arm wrestle, Todoroki facilitating it since he declined to go against the winner. Especially when the two of them smashed the table to bits under their combined strength, leading to them bowing before the owner and offering to pay for the damages. This was the most passive aggressive argument you had ever witnessed.

"Just let me pay for it Midoriya, I suggested the arm wrestling."

"No, no I can pay for it. I accidentally used a little of my quirk so it's really my fault Kirishima."

"Just both of you split it already!" Mina howled in annoyance before downing the last of her drink and calling for another in the same breath.

Due to your lack of drinking experience you swayed while waiting on the group to deliberate on how to get you home. You had drove but there was absolutely zero way you were going to be allowed behind the wheel.

The one with the most sober mind had turned out to be Todoroki who was not much of a drinker himself, offered to drive you home and he would call a car from his agency to get him home afterwards. Midoriya had been offering to take you home like the nice guy he was, but a fiancé to get home to. That and he was almost just as intoxicated as you, he would most likely end up being held up by you instead of him taking care of you.

Todoroki helped you into the car's passenger seat and made sure you were buckled in nice and snug. Humming all the while the song you sang with Mina while he tried to get your address from you. After several minutes he finally got the slurred answer from you and he made his way slowly towards your house.

You stumbled up the sidewalk, the hero's hands hovering without touching to respect your boundaries but also hover incase you took a tumble. He helped you into the house and into bed, made sure you were tucked in all snug as a bug before exiting the room. He returned once with a full glass of water and some headache medicine most likely from the bathroom in the hall.

You rambled to him how thankful you were and that he was a great guy.

"Think nothing of it. I am a hero and I am helping someone in need."

After all was said in done he saw himself out and made sure the door was locked before leaving in the car he had called on the way to your house.

You awoke with a snort, wiping away the drool that had accumulated during the best sleep you had gotten in awhile. Though you had toss and turned through the night from the alcohol, it had been a blissful few hours of blank dreams.

The sunlight cut into your eyes as you groaned and turned over to find the full glass of water and pills on the night stand. You thanked whoever was listening for good men in this world like the dual haired man who helped you home.

What a guy.

Popping the painkillers and downing the water like a flower starved, you set the glass down with a satisfied noise. Now that your mouth didn't feel like a bucket full of sand, you laid back down with your arm flopped over your eyes.

You let out a low groan at the rumbling stirring up trouble in your stomach. Which was also simultaneously begging for the greasiest cheeseburger you could find.

"Fuck me I only said one drink!"

"Should've came home then dipshit instead of stumbling in here with fucking Icy Hot at two am."

Tossing your arm off of your face quickly and found yourself face to face with the angry vermillion eyes once again. A scream ripped from your throat as you threw yourself backwards and onto the bedroom floor.

"Oop good job dumbass... Wait." A head with messy ash blonde locks leaned over the side of the bed. "You fucking saw me!"

#bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo imagine #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #mha bakugou #bakugo katsuki x reader #mha bakugo #mha bakugo x reader #bnha #mha #my hero academia #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #Afterlife #Dead Au #Ghost!bakugo x Y/n #Ghost!bakugo

[senorablack]

Tw body health, infections

Today on baby girl* what is your doin

{* body)

-got bit by something on Wednesday and it left a blister nothing too wild or painful just itchy

-Thursday I go to work all hunky dory when tragedy struck - lmao - started feeling a pressure and sting around the bite and it was popped but not like leaking and then I go to bathroom and see that it’s inflamed to the size of a golf ball and it was like red and hot and firm to touch

-walking was I comfy but not painful but I decided to call my provider anyway (luckily for me my job requires me to be solo most of the time so I hid out in unit of the hospital that’s under construction lol)

-I’m walking around that unit and I start to get stomach cramps, whole body aches and the chills. Mind you it’s been 85+ around my parts - and mother fucker would was like debilitating pain. And then I like sat down at it ease. So my provider not in so I asked med assistant if I could go to their urgent care and they just transferred me to an advice nurse who schedule me a video appt like an hour after the call

-so I’m in This abandon unit half dying lol and I talk to this bro of a on call doctor, show him the affected area and he goes it doesn’t look infected. Just put compress and take motrin. But baby girl was yelling. I was like okay what do I do about the chills and body aches and dizziness? He goes you just need rest and ibuprofen he repeated and he wrote me a note for time off.

-bitch come time to going home I was going g through it and I had to drive that whole ass 2.5 hours home but I stopped to take a quick nap and drink water and give baby girl a fuckin pep talk

- fever subsided by the time I was home and falling asleep. Still in pain at site. And then next morning.

-Friday I’m not feverish but I can’t walk because the pain was like radiating up my stomach and back and legs. I was like wtf. Took more Motrin. Ate breakfast aroun 11am. Fell asleep. Woke up at 430 with a fever.

-I call my provider AGAIN talking bout yeah homeboy did me dirty and baby girl still feels like caca in the sun but what do you suggest they said go seek urgent care

-I’m trying to call urgent cares in my area to see if they take me insurance and course they don’t. But my nearest ER that takes my insurance was a next city over. Got my ass there driving on vibes only lmao.

-when I was seen they said that I was 108. Which you know is concerning or whatever. Because they called a code on me for the whole hospital to hear - septic shock. Which means immune system is working OT to fight and is getting tired

- get a bed they give me Tylenol and hook me to up saline and a antibiotic drip and baby girl is like what the fuck is going on here this day right now

-I’m like - well this went from zero to 100 right quick

-there for 4 hours they say I need at ct. I get scanned wait another three. They said if they found a puss pocket they would have to do a minor surgery to drain in

-but they didn’t find anything and when my fever passed they sent me home, said that ima have to take two antibiotic. They said they don’t know what bit me or started it but they know it was cellulitis which is a skin infection and a fuckin uti.

-woke up hell early in morning and yaked, but fever wasn’t present. Fell back to sleep to find fever back, and areas lightly bleeding. AND still fucking painful/red/firm. Too Motrin and Tylenol. Feel mildly better.

-Now but I’m waiting for them to fill my 2 abx right now and just kinda like damn girl can you don’t

#anyway #listen to your body #always get a second opinion if you feel you werent treated sufficiently the first time!!!! #es talk #health talk #also septis can cause organ failures WHO KNEW i sure didn’t #do now lmao #😐 #also in retrospect i should not have driven myself that was by bad #i have chronic fend for herself syndrome aka hyper inderpendece trauma so

[cevansbiceps]

you got me hanging from the ceiling | spideychelle → [3]

pairing: peter parker x mj (ft. ned x betty)

rating: pg-15

genre: fluff + humor + crack + smidgens of angst sprinkled here and there + canon divergent after spider-man: homecoming

summary: MJ drags the chair opposite them—she’s never sat so close to their seats—and leans forward. Her eyes turn to slits. “Thought you’d lost it?”

Peter’s breathing sort of speeds up, sweat breaking on his forehead, and, dear God, what the hell is wrong with him, Ned’ll have a field day if he gets anything on his phone, and he’d be right, because, what the hell is wrong with him, it’s just MJ!

Maybe he’s just scared.

Or, Peter Parker is slowly falling for MJ, while MJ seems to be slowly falling for Spider-Man. But, wait—it’s the same thing.

Is it really, though?

note: secondhand embarrassment in this one is crazy, i am sO sorry (':

— leave me a word!

series → 1 2 [3] 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

“Harry Potter marathon at yours, later, then?” Ned's mumble fills the mask, and Peter grumbles at Karen to lower the volume.

“Oops, I'm sorry, Peter,” the robotic voice retorts. “Volume lowered to seventy percent.”

“Whoa—who was that? Are—oh my God, are you with MJ?”

“You're too sleepy to function, Ned,” Peter laughs. “That was just Karen.”

“Who? Kar—oh. Wait, are you patrolling, right now? Dude it's six am! School's in two hours!”

Peter breathes out. “No, I'm not patrolling. Just reviewing the recordings from past few nights.”

Aunt May is moving around in the living room, and she'll probably yell at Peter if she finds him awake so early after he'd slept at two, last night, for the third consecutive night, this week. Peter really needs to end the call before that happens. But Ned's been unwell, and Peter needed to know if he'd come to school, today.

“It's too early, Pete. You really are overworking yourself.” Ned sounds much more awake now.

Peter softly smiles at Ned's concern. Ned Leeds really is the best bro. “It's okay, Ned. I took a nap after school, yesterday.”

“So… are you gonna go to decathlon practice, today?”

Peter hums. “I'm planning to.”

“Yeah you better.” There's way too much humor in Ned's voice, and Peter mentally braces himself, because he's ninety-three percent sure he isn't gonna like what Ned's about to say next. “After all, there's only so many excuses MJ can make before exposing her concern for you, right?”

Peter groans aloud. “I'll see you later, Ned. Take your medicines, bye.”

“What's all the ruckus? Peter, are you—Peter!”

Peter whips the mask off, pursed lips and guilty eyes trained at Aunt May's irritated face in the doorway. “Good morning, May.”

“Peter it's barely six thirty! Why are you up so early, with—with the mask and—and—” She cuts herself off, making vague gestures that go over Peter's head.

“Ned's not coming to school, today, he's caught a stomach bug.” He hopes to distract her, and mentally does a victory dance when her eyes immediately widen.

“What? Oh, poor boy. Why, did he eat something odd?”

Peter shrugs a shoulder. “A celery sandwich?”

Aunt May rolls her eyes fondly. “Only Ned Leeds would catch a stomach infection from healthy food.”

She silently retreats from the room, seemingly forgetting about the reason why she'd barged in, in the first place.

Grinning to himself, Peter decides to catch a small nap before he has to get ready for school.

MJ is missing from homeroom.

Peter wonders why he notices.

MJ had a detention during homeroom.

Peter chokes on air when she casually drops the fact on him when he's fiddling with the things in his locker. He laughs, but it's forced.

It's just so damn awkward between them, without Ned to—well, make things more awkward? Yes, because that is exactly what Ned does, but still. Ned is like. A buffer. Peter feels so much more comfortable when he's by Peter's side while interacting with MJ.

Peter's brain is a mess when she wordlessly walks with him to chemistry.

He clears his throat seven times in the two minutes and eleven seconds it takes for them to get to class.

He doesn't know what to say to her. And, unsurprisingly, the humongously awkward silence doesn't seem to faze MJ even a miniscule bit.

Peter almost walks into the wall instead of the doorway.

MJ is missing from lunchroom, too.

Peter believes he notices because she's been dropping by his and Ned's lunch table every single day, for more than a year now, and he's just gotten used to it.

Betty Brant gets to MJ before MJ gets to the podium for AcaDec practice. Peter observes the exchange with interest.

“Hey! Are you okay, MJ?”

MJ looks confused for a moment, eyelids fluttering for a second, and then her eyebrows slowly climb up her forehead. “Yeah, I'm good, Betty. Thanks?”

Betty looks flustered at first, but then gives MJ a huge smile. “No, I meant your health. You were unwell yesterday, right? That's why you cancelled practice? Mister Harrington told us you'd come down with sore throat. Which made me think…you could've given me the flashcards! I would've been more than happy to help!”

MJ is grimacing and trying to lean away from Betty's grasp on her upper arms by the time the blonde stops talking. 

Peter's eyebrows are raised.

She actually gave an excuse of being unwell, yesterday? 

His heart thunders loudly in his ears, and he almost misses it when MJ dramatically coughs and hands Betty the flashcards, claiming that she's unwell today, too, and needs to rest her throat.

Embarrassingly, his cheeks start to feel warm when she walks toward the seats. Peter trains his gaze on the pencil in his hand, shoulders slightly relaxing when she sits two rows away.

Peter glances at her after counting to ten in his head, as slowly as he can.

She's bent over her sketchbook. Peter looks around the room, wondering whom she could be finding to be in crisis at the moment.

When he looks back, she's holding her sketch up for him to see. His eyes widen, sweat suddenly beading on his forehead. He thought he was being sneaky! Was she observing him all this time?

But she gives him a flat stare, obviously expecting him to stop gaping at her face and look at the sketch she's showing him. He gulps.

Peter squints at the paper, willing himself to actually see and interpret the person she's portrayed to be in crisis today.

He can barely contain the laughter that threatens to burst out of him.

She's drawn herself.

“Hey, Parker!”

Peter's eyes widen and he freezes on his way out of the parking lot. He stays jammed in his place, not even able to turn around to look at MJ even when he can hear her walking up to him and can sense her presence eight inches from his back. 

“Parker?”

He springs into motion, twisting in place to look at the girl with his eyes still blown wide. “Hi.”

MJ's look of confusion melts into amusement. “Hello. Are you…okay?”

Peter nods about thirty-eight times in ten seconds, and then tries to smile. “Ye–yeah. Why?”

“Well…for one, you looked petrified. And Leeds was missing today, too, so you could be having a panic attack and no one would know.” She squints at him in that characteristic way of hers. “Which brings me to the reason I stopped you. Where's Leeds?”

Peter purses his lips, jutting a thumb in the direction that holds the way to Ned's house. “Home. He's, uh, unwell.”

“Huh.” MJ nods, still looking at Peter as if he's a specimen under the slide on a microscope. “Can I have his number? There's something I wanted to talk to him about.”

Peter chokes on an inhale. “What?”

“Leeds’ phone number?”

Peter nods eleven times in three seconds, this time, and extracts his phone to quickly pull Ned's contact up. “There.”

MJ glances at it, quickly looking back and forth between his device and her own to copy the digits down. “Thanks.” She nods, still typing on her phone, and then, without a word, walks off.

Peter is left with his mouth dropped open, his hand still holding his phone, face up.

“Penis! Get outta the way!”

Peter jumps to a side as Flash Thompson whips out of the school in his new car.

His uneven breathing takes a while to settle, and more than just adrenaline is behind it.

Ned noisily sips on the orange juice that May had handed him with a strict glare. “Okay, question: if your guy in the chair's been attending decathlon practices, or skipping school, or, generally, not being the guy in the chair, where're you getting all the intel from?”

“I put trackers on them at the party. That's how I found out that they actually were operating an illegal drug business,” Peter responds, eyes stuck on Neville Longbottom's quivering form as his Boggart takes the shape of Snape.

“Stark's high-tech, undetectable trackers?”

“The one and only.”

Ned hums. “Is everything okay, Peter? You look too wound up to just be worried about some drug dealing idiots.”

Peter's heart warms. What did he ever do to earn a best friend like Ned Leeds? He bites his lip, wondering if he should tell Ned about the exchanges he had with MJ, today. Especially the one that happened after school.

But then he stops, realising that if MJ actually had contacted Ned, he would've questioned where she got his number, and either he would've drawn the obvious conclusion, or MJ would've told him.

“Nope, I'm good. Just a bit sleep deprived, I guess.”

Remus Lupin looks more concerned than Harry at the thought of revealing Harry's Boggart. Peter snatches Ned's juice out of his hands and takes a sip.

“So…”

Peter looks at Ned. “So?”

Ned wiggles his eyebrows, a lewd grin sneaking on his face. “Did you slide your own number in with mine?”

Peter groans loudly, grabbing a throw pillow to stuff his face into. “No, Ned. Why–why would I do that? I don't need to. Or, y'know. Want to. Or…you know. Why would I do that? Why would I do that? You know MJ would kill me without even letting me explain.”

“Explain, huh? And what would you say in explanation?”

Okay, this is it. Ned's been having way too many laughs at his expense. “Well, maybe you could help me. You know, when you decide upon what explanation you'd give Betty when she asks how her celery sandwich worked for you.”

Ned's face instantly turns, and he pinches his lips in a grimace. “Peter, no. This is not fair. That—that thing wasn't even food!”

Peter chuckles to himself, patting Ned's shoulder the way Ned had done his, yesterday, and offers him a bite of the takeout larb he's munching on. Ned makes a face, quickly shaking his head.

“I've spent way too many hours on the toilet today, dude. I'm good with my liquid diet.”

Peter hums in response, his mind unwittingly going back to the one question that'd propped up in his head this afternoon—the one that he pushes to the back of his mind every time it comes up. But it comes up, again.

He sighs, loudly, aware that he's moving too much on the couch, but not caring. Remus Lupin clears the classroom after Harry's Boggart incident.

“Don't you wanna know why she needed my number, at least?”

Peter chokes on his bite of the meat salad, coughing monstrously. Ned literally pours his orange juice down Peter's throat to clear it.

“What the hell, man?” Ned bleats, all high-pitched and exclamatory, and looks at Peter as if he's grown another head.

Peter winces. Well, that was dramatic. But he was caught off-guard by Ned saying the exact words Peter had been trying to avoid! “No–nothing. You just startled me.”

“Startled you? Peter, we've watched these movies fifty thousand times, you know each scene word by word, expression by expression. What were you so immersed in?”

“Uh, thinking?”

“Thinking. About what?”

“The, uh, suspected-drug-dealers?”

“Are you asking me?”

“No?”

“Peter!”

“Okay, fine, fine,” Peter exhales, making a placating gesture with his hand. “Fine, yes. Yes, I really wanna know why MJ needed your number.  She said she wanted to ask you something. What was it?”

Bed gives him a downright creepy smirk. “You won't believe it.”

“What? Why?”

“It was about you.”

Press eyes widen, and admittedly, heartbeat kinda jumps. But…maybe he's startled again, right? Yep, definitely. “Me?” He forces a short laugh. “What about—”

“The other you, Peter.” Ned rolls his eyes when Peter's jaw drops open. “She wanted to know some stuff about Spider-Man.”

Peter roughly swallows, nervousness and another—unknown but kinda unpleasant—emotion churning in his stomach. “Oh? What, exactly? And—and what did you say?”

Ned shrugs a careless shoulder. “Point blank asked me if the boy was from our school. I obviously didn't tell her.”

Peter nods, conflicted about how to feel. “And she let it go?”

“Well, obviously not. She won't be MJ if she just let it go.” They both chuckle. “She said she knows you're a fan and that you probably even know the guy. But she feels like you won't tell her. She wanted to bribe me into getting the name from you and giving it to her.”

Peter is too stunned to react. This is way too much, way too fast. “Bribe? Wait, she thinks—wait, wait, me? But I would—why won't I tell—what?”

“She offered me a hamburger. But, thanks to my upset stomach, I easily refused her.”

“Well, thanks to that,” Peter agrees, breathing uneven. “But… she actually believes I know Spider-Man?”

“Peter, why do you sound so shocked? It's not a big deal. You know, because you are Spider-Man?”

Peter clicks his tongue, eyes shutting as his head thumps against the back if the couch. “Please tell me she isn't investigating it. Because if MJ's actually trying to figure out who Spider-Man is, MJ will find out who Spider-Man is.”

Ned shakes his head. “I don't know, man. She might be. But she seemed more inquisitive than suspicious, to be honest. Like…she’s an admirer of Spider-Man and doesn't care who he is, and not someone that simply suspects who he could be.”

Peters shoulders relax at that. “Really?”

“From what I could tell, yeah.”

Peter grins, slowly, thoughtfully looking into his bowl of larb. “So, she's a fan, huh? You think I should pay her a visit, then?”

Ned is giving him a disapproving look. “No, Pete. Spider-Man's not a party trick, remember? And, also. MJ's a friend. Do you really wanna trick her?”

Peter exhales, glumly nodding because Ned's right. “No, you're right. It's just…ah, surprising. And kinda makes me feel like I have something over MJ.”

Ned smiks at him. “Come to think of it, that's exactly how I felt, too.”

The two boys laugh at the absurd revelation, proceeding to spend the rest of the evening finishing the next part of Harry Potter before sleep weighs them down in the middle of the fifth one.

© cevansbiceps | tumblr

#spideychelle #peter parker #mj watson #mj x peter #peter parker fanfiction #petermj #peter parker imagine #peter x mj #peter x michelle #marvel

[teddybeartoji]

hi mickey!! i’ve been on an off adhd meds for about 4 years so i’ll tell you my experiences with the two i’ve been on ☺️

the first one i was ever on was adderall and the first day i took it i genuinely got the worst stomach ache of my life. had to leave school early it was sooooo bad. but that happened ONCE and then never again so it was all good. genuinely helped me focus, for the 2ish weeks i was on it i did really well in school which was abnormal to me. i was on the lowest dosage though and i felt like i became kind of immune to it very quick so they upped me to the next dose and i unfortunately cant remember how that went at all but i figure it didn’t do much for me bc i switched meds.

the med i’ve been on longer is vyvanse which i have a love hate relationship with…bc. well. it makes me genuinely sick, like it just completely gets rid of your appetite. the idea of food, smelling food, looking at it, eating it. just can’t do it. i either eat before it or when it first kicks in bc unfortunately if you don’t eat while you’re on it the effects are worse. like you have to fight through the sickness so you don’t feel sicker? it also makes me wayyyyy social, takes away so much of my anxiety and makes me feel happy. my therapist said it’s because adhd can manifest as anxiety often times so it’s counteracting that. i don’t have an active prescription but i had one last year so literally like 2 weeks ago i had to do a shit tone of homework and i took the rest of my pills over the course of the week. and i got soooooooooooo much more work done than i did all quarter so that was great.

the crash after is INSANE though. it’s not uncommon to feel like super sad when it wears off and i vividly remember crying in school at the end of the day once bc it was wearing off and i started having an existential crisis. the nap after also crazy like just totally knocked out for hours. and the focusing and happiness will be gone but the icky stomach feeling will linger until u eat.

that’s just my experience but i hope it helped a bit :)

HII RO<333333 THANK YOU FOR SHARING THIS WITH MEEE!!!!!! it's so good to hear genuine experiences bc they can just differ so so so much. i had never heard about vyvanse so i wrote that one down for myself.

it sucks that the side effects can vary so much........ like damn can the medication just be Medication instead of taking away one thing and replacing that with like three smaller things??????? pls. when i got my antidepressants my friend told me all about her first two weeks (we had the same meds with the same dosage). she was like yeah you definitely have to eat before you take them or you'll get super sick, you have to take them almost at the exact time every day or you'll get sick + she had like stomach aches and she felt like she was gonna throw up a lot so she was just constantly chewing gum for the first two weeks and that scared the fuck out of me. bc. that's a lot of things lmao like is it even worth it all of that???? but then i had absolutely none of that NONE OF IT. the only time i feel sick is when i forget to take them...... but it's still good to know how it is for other so i can atleast BE READY FOR IT.

ok but you don't take them daily though right? just when you know you're gonna be more busy? is that just because you don't feel like you have to take them daily or you don't want to? my friend kind of does the same but the thing is... i am literally unemployed rn and i don't have school or anything but i still feel like i can't focus on anything so i'd probably be taking them on a daily basis anyway.. and i'm just wondering whether that's a bad thing or not. maybe it just depends on how well they actually work and whether or not they give me any big side effects............ sighh it's so upsetting that you just have to Try Them. pay for the session buy the meds probably suffer for some time just as an experiment lmao i love it

it's really good to hear that it helps with your anxiety too btw!!! i didn't know that it could do that and this is just making me wanna try it out even more i'd love to Not Be Anxious. whew what a crazy thought.

but i am very very very scared of the appetite loss though bc well...... i struggle with that anyway i just kind of forget about it and it's such a big task so the thought of taking something that could possibly make that even worse.............. is scary lmao this was one of the things my psychiatrist warned me about too

oh and also the crash after it......................... MMMMMMMM yeah that's a bit scary too just considering i tend to go through every single feeling and emotion on a daily basis anyway thanks to my good old friend autism. SIGHHHHH WHY IS IT HARD BEING OFF MEDS AND WHY IS IT HARD BEING ON MEDS PLSSSS

oke i kinda yapped but genuinely THANK YOUUU FOR TELLING ME ABOUT UR EXPERIENCE!!!!! now i know what to expect a bit more!!!! i hope you're having a good good day<333 love u MWAHH

#THANK UUUUUUU #i appreciate u sm!!!! #gonna go and look for an appointment time rnnnn #sigh i love being an experiment #ro <3 #friends!!

[lady-literature]

Found Family

holy shit did this one get way out of hand. Don’t expect them all to be this long because hot damn this is a monster compared to literally everything else but it just wouldn’t stop

(should I have expected this? probably. we all know how I am about found family.)

anyway enjoy 4.5k words ig

based on this post | @maribatmarch-2k21 | find more here

***

When Marinette had been chosen to intern with Monsieur Wayne’s PA, she hadn’t been expecting anything special. Sure, the Waynes were an odd breed and generally considered strange, but Marinette hadn’t actually expected to have much contact with them—if any at all.

She was here to earn credit for her business degree.

Instead, she has… well. She thinks she’s been somehow inducted into the Wayne family, mostly on accident and kind of as a joke.

That is, until it very much wasn’t.

***

Her first mistake, she supposes, was being too good at her job.

Marinette is an old hand at keeping track of multiple moving parts and riding herd on stubborn people who’d otherwise be too distracted or goofing off. (She was the Court’s leader for more than just being the latest in a long line of Ladybugs, after all.)

After the first two days shadowing Selina—“please, darling. Ms Kyle is so formal”—and learning the broad strokes of the job, Marinette felt confident enough to dig her nails in and get to work. Selina spent most of her time dedicated to international tasks and arranging Monsieur Waynes’ private affairs—all of which was highly classified and not discussed with Marinette—so she turned her attention to inter-company affairs.

Her first order of business was personally meeting with as many people in managerial positions as she could get. Not a requirement for the job per se, but these were people she’d have to interact with often and Maman had always stressed the importance of building connections in the workplace.

“People,” she would say, “are far more willing to do what you want them to when you’ve endeared yourself to them.”

So Marinette takes that advice and spends her breaks and lunches charming employees and giving baked goods to security guards and learning the names of the cleaning crew. She doesn’t speak to the department heads, because Selina handles their correspondences, but everyone else is free game as far as she’s concerned.

She becomes a well-recognized face astoundingly quickly.

***

Marinette probably should’ve seen the rumors coming.

It’s common practice in not only the Wayne family, but in most business conglomerates, for the children to quickly rise through the ranks of their company—if not just handed a high position right off the bat.

It took barely a month before the eldest was all but running Human Resources, and the second was placed as Head of Security practically out of nowhere. Monsieur Drake is the youngest (and most terrifyingly calculated) CEO to ever hold Wayne Enterprises, even if he does share the title with his father.

The other three are still too young or have yet to express an interest in the company, but people say it’s only a matter of time.

The track record speaks for itself, even if Marinette wishes it didn’t.

As a girl who’d come mostly out of nowhere and found herself with far more divisive sway in the company than she had any right to, it’s no wonder everyone thinks she’s some sort of secret Wayne finally coming out of hiding.

Marinette had nearly choked on her coffee when Selina dropped the bomb of that particular tidbit of company gossip.

“Most think you’ve been unofficially adopted,” Selina tells her, looking far too amused for Marinette’s liking. “Seeing as you’re too old for official avenues now.”

Marinette looks up warily from the schedule she’s rearranging. Selina had all but shoved the thing at her a month ago when she started suggesting more efficient ways of managing the CEOs’ valuable time.

“Only most? Does that mean the rest have common sense?”

Selina’s grin widens even further, if that’s possible, and Marinette regrets her question even before the older woman starts speaking.

“Oh, of course not!” she laughs delightedly. “The rest are hoping to hear news of wedding bells. It’s high time someone swept a Wayne off the market, don’t you think?”

***

“So you’re the new little sister I keep hearing about.”

Marinette stares up through narrowed eyes at the brightly smiling Dick Grayson. In her stomach, there are already the beginnings of resignation starting to form. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you!”

This man is going to bring her nothing but trouble. She can tell.

***

Dick takes a liking to her. And she, against her better judgment, finds herself doing the same to him.

It’s a little hard not to, if she’s being honest. He’s bright and bubbly and brings her bagels during his morning break without her ever having asked.

It takes practically no time at all before Marinette considers him a friend, relaxing when he’s near and laughing openly at his ridiculous jokes. Despite being the head of HR, he’s not great at the whole ‘professional’ thing and often employees will walk by to find him draped across a chair or balancing precariously on the edge of her desk while she tries and fails to get some work done while he’s around.

It really doesn't help all of the ‘Marinette is a Wayne’ rumors running around. Especially when Dick starts pointedly calling her every variation of ‘little sister’ that he can think of just to annoy her (and, she knows, because he thinks the entire situation hilarious).

***

Three weeks after befriending Dick, Selina all but shoves her into Monsieur Drake’s office and, in no uncertain words, says, “He’s your problem now.”

Marinette blinks at what she can describe as nothing other than a disaster area and just… sighs.

Tim blinks back at her.

The motion is somehow both completely blank and filled with an uncomfortable amount of knowing at the same time. There is also, she notices, a frankly ludicrous amount of concealer caked beneath his eyes and more coffee cups scattered on every flat surface than Marinette has ever seen in her life.

She knows his schedule like the back of her hand seeing as she spends hours of her day pouring over it to make sure everything runs smoothly. He has no prior engagements for the next three hours.

“You’re not going to take a nap just because I ask, are you?”

He snorts. “Absolutely not.”

She nods, having expected the answer; her phone was already at her ear before he even finished speaking. “Hey, Dick!” she greets, sounding brighter than she feels at the moment, and watches as Tim stiffens in front of her. “Yeah, no. I was just wondering if you’re busy right now.” She pauses. “Oh, good! Can you come up to Tim’s office for me? Yeah, I need you to knock him out so I can fix his dumpster fire of an office.”

Tim has since started waving his hands frantically at her, panic setting in behind his eyes.

Marinette stares at him, unmoved. “Thanks, Dick! You’re the best!”

The silence after she hangs up is deafening.

“I don’t know if I should be impressed by the ease you’re manipulating me or pissed off that you’re doing it in the first place.”

She hums thoughtfully. “Does your decision have any bearing on my future employment?”

His eyes squint. “…No.”

Marinette shrugs, mind already whirling with what she’ll need to get done first and calculating how long she’ll likely have to get it done. “Then I think you should skip right over both of those and land on resignation as quickly as possible, Monsieur, because you’re going to have to get used to it regardless.”

It’s silent for a long moment, and she worries for just a second that she’s severely crossed some sort of line. Then Tim bursts out laughing instead of, you know, firing her like he probably should have.

“Oh, yeah. You’re going to fit right in here.”

Marinette doesn’t ask where the ‘here’ is. She’s pretty sure she already knows.

***

It takes ten days for Marinette to wrangle Tim’s life into something resembling order. His office is clean and organized to his liking. She’s developed a system of filing so that all paperwork goes through her and is quickly sorted into ‘can be handled by Marinette’, ‘forge his signature and tell him about it later’, and ‘actually important enough to have Tim read through’.

His schedule is the most efficient it’s ever been and Marinette is quickly honing the skill of getting him properly dressed and out of his office in under thirty minutes. (Dick is, thankfully, a great teacher and has little to no qualms about giving her the key to all his little brother’s weaknesses.)

Selina stares at her when Marinette all but drags Tim from his office, a folder tucked neatly under his arm and the sugary monstrosity of a caffeinated beverage she’s bribed him with in her own, with a whole ten minutes to spare before his meeting with the Board.

“My dear,” she says solemnly, “you are positively magic.”

She doesn’t even look up from where she’s simultaneously wrangling Tim’s hair into submission and laying his tie down flat. “You have no idea.”

***

She knows Tim is capable of professionality. She’s seen the cool facade he pulls up in front of the Board members and the kind but impersonal smile he uses on the employees of Wayne Enterprises. (He is not the Ice Prince of the Wayne family, but Marinette believes he should have some equally ruthless sounding title.) He is aloof and sharp and every inch the businessman people praise him to be.

She’s seen it. And yet… 

“Monsieur. Why are all the Lexcorp contracts I gave you done in crayon?”

Tim doesn’t stop messing with his Rubix cube or even look up at her when he says, “Cause deadbeat fathers don’t deserve the respect of a pen.”

Marinette is very tired. She does not have time for this. “What are you talking about?”

“Lex is a bitchass absentee dad and I live to inconvenience him.”

“What about inconveniencing me?” she all but whines. “I can’t hand him these!”

That does make Tim look up at her, eyes wide with false innocence and mouth pouting up at her. “But sister dearest, I’m your little brother. It’s my job to inconvenience you.”

Growling in frustration is probably an inappropriate reaction to the situation.

But, Marinette thinks, so is the fact that both of the Waynes she associates with regularly seem hellbent on convincing the world that she too, is a Wayne, so.

(Is this how Alya felt dealing with the twins? Cause if so, Marinette takes back every joke she ever made—little siblings are a bitch.)

***

She meets Damian without warning.

Honestly, she never really expected to meet him at all but, well.

She finds him in Monsieur Wayne’s office, sitting at his father’s desk and doing something that she thinks is vaguely illegal, but she’s not about to tell her Boss a dozen times over how to parent his children.

Damian is a near-perfect copy of his father with darker skin and calculating green eyes. There’s also a more potent aura of danger around the child than there is around his father, like Damian hasn’t yet learned how to hide behind his public persona as his father had.

Or, Marinette looks at the teen thoughtfully, perhaps he just chooses not to.

“Monsieur Wayne,” she greets. Children like to be treated like adults, she knows, and Marinette doesn’t think this one is any different. “Selina hadn’t told me you’d be in the office today.”

“I don’t run my schedule by her,” he says flatly. A response she expected considering Dick’s stories.

“Of course not,” she agrees.

He finally deigns to look up at her and something flits across his expression, too fast for her to pick up on it. “Are those for Father? Bring them here, I’ll deal with them in his absence.”

Marinette raises her eyebrow. “I’m not sure that’s wise Monsieur.”

Damian scowls and sticks his hand out. “I’m perfectly capable of forging Father’s signature. Give them here.”

She does not move and, instead, lets her lips quirk up into the smile she’s been fighting since she stepped in here.

“I don’t doubt it,” she tells him, and she doesn't. Forgery seems exactly like the kind of skill a child who broke into the CEO’s office of a multi-billion dollar company would have. “But you’ll find that all forging of signatures has been finished for the day and that these,” she shakes the sheaf of papers lightly, “actually require your father’s attention.”

He snorts disbelievingly and it says a lot about Marinette’s life up until now that the blatant display of disrespect doesn’t piss her off but instead reminds her of Chloé and of the fact that she still needs to reschedule their spa day. It's been too long since they spent time together in person.

“Well,” she pauses and eyes the papers thoughtfully. “‘Requires’ in the sense that its information needed to trounce the Board when they start spouting off greedy bullshit about cutting corners on our humanitarian efforts. I’m not sure how much of it is actually useful for anything besides that.” She shrugs. “But homework is homework, yes?”

That gets her a thoughtful once-over. His hand lowers and he then turns back to whatever he’s messing with on his father’s computers.

“Very well,” he concedes. “Father will be back in approximately thirteen minutes. You can leave the papers and I’ll inform him of their… importance.” He smirks, but it’s more like he’s letting her in on a joke than anything else.

Marinette smiles back as she sets the folder on the desk, feeling, oddly, like she’s passed some sort of test.

***

The day after, both Dick and Tim are waiting for her with what looks like an entire bakery laid out in her workspace.

“Uh,” she says eloquently, setting her purse down on her chair because there’s not a single open space on her desk not filled with some kind of pastry. “What’s all this?”

She looks up to find neither Dick nor Tim has stopped staring at her since she walked in. “We heard you met Damian yesterday,” Dick starts warily, like he’s scared of her reaction.

The response does not abate her confusion. 

“Yes, I did,” she says slowly. “That does not explain all… this.” She waves a hand, trying to encompass them as well as the state her desk is in.

The two brothers share a look.

“It’s a bribe,” Tim tells her simply and Marinette is taken aback for all of a second before her eyes suddenly narrow.

Dick cuts in hastily before she can say anything. “It’s more of an apology, really. For Damian’s behavior.”

But Marinette is confused and frustrated and just a bit offended by the apparent not-bribe at this point. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, but it only does so much.

“Damain’s behavior was fine,” she tells them with measured neutrality. “You two, on the other hand, are being weird and it’s freaking me out.” She crosses her arms expectantly. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

Appearing from out of nowhere, Selina drapes herself along Marinette’s shoulders and snags a raspberry scone. “I do believe,” she says as if sharing a secret, “That they are trying to keep you from quitting, kitten.”

Marinette wrinkles her nose. “Why would I quit? I like this job.”

She also likes the Waynes (in general, if not right then) and she likes Selina. The woman was a good mentor who didn’t shy away from the dirtier parts of the job and taught Marinette all she knew. (Even the bits, she noticed, that had little to nothing to do with being a personal assistant and were more likely to be found in the repertoire of a thief.

But, Marinette is in possession of her own sticky fingers and knows how to not ask questions, so. You know—curiosity killed the cat and all.)

She doesn’t voice any of that, but Selina, at least, knows it anyway. Marinette isn’t quiet about her gratitude after all.

“First meetings with the youngest Wayne don’t often go well,” Selina tells her. “In fact, I think he has a habit of making the interns cry.”

Dick makes some kind of offended noise. “Hey! He hasn’t done that since he was twelve!”

Tim elbows him in the ribs and Marinette makes a vaguely skeptical face at all three of them before deciding it wasn’t worth it. She has actual work to get done today and pastries to get rid of before she can even start.

She pats affectionately at Selina’s hand before grabbing as many boxes as she can hold. “Come on you two,” she says to the brothers. “You’re going to help me hand these out to the rest of the company.”

Dick immediately starts doing as told but Tim hesitates, humming thoughtfully. “You know that’s not going to help your whole ‘I’m not actually a Wayne’ thing, right?”

She glares at him. It doesn’t stop Tim from grinning like the utterly unrepentant little shit he is.

***

Things are quiet after the Damian Incident for a whole two weeks. It’s the longest lull Marinette has had since she first started and became somehow involved with the Waynes.

It ends because Dick finds out about the crush Marinette has been nursing on the Head of Security for three months now.

The Head of Security who is Jason Todd: second eldest Wayne sibling and Dick’s brother.

He takes it better than expected.

(Almost, she thinks later, a little too well.)

***

Despite her friendship with Dick and Tim—or perhaps because of it?—Jason had never seemed very interested in her. At first, Marinette had shrugged and counted it as a win; there was one Wayne, at least, who neither found her situation funny nor used it to poke fun at her.

They were on friendly terms, she supposed. Security has always been one of her more regular stops in the building, so she’d spoken to him often enough. He liked complaining that she spoiled his team rotten with all her treats.

But she also noticed that he likes her cherry danishes, so.

And then she noticed how crooked his grin was when he smiled. And how he seemed to have an arsenal of nicknames for everyone he knew. And the small collection of classic romance novels filled with sticky notes he tries and fails to hide in his desk. And, and, and.

It was around the time she began unconsciously memorizing his schedule based on when he was and was not there for her pastry deliveries, that she realized she may have made a misstep somewhere.

Jason was stubborn and passionate and flipped between overly proper and crass light a damn light switch. He was also, as stated, very much not interested in her.

Not that she would’ve pursued him anyway. He was a coworker as well as her friends’ brother.

Now if only one of said brothers could understand that.

“You should ask him out,” Dick suggests not for the first time and Marinette sighs, also not for the first time.

She loves Dick—she truly does—but he has been an aggravating level of unhelpful since he found out about Marinette’s latest romantic disaster.

“I’m definitely not doing that.”

Dick groans, like she’s being the unreasonable one. “Why are you being so stubborn about this?”

“Because I don’t like embarrassing myself?” she asks rhetorically. “Not everyone can have a fairy tale romance like you and Wally.”

He throws his coffee stirrer at her. “We are not a fairy tale.”

She shoots him a flat look. She’s heard Dick talk about Wally and Tim’s told her all the stories and she was there when he and Wally finally got their shit together. Dick was unbearable for an entire week with his gooey, lovestruck new lease on life.

“You two are the definition of fairy tale. You two make fairy tales look like trashy romance novels.”

He opens his mouth to argue the point before forcibly cutting himself off. “No. Stop distracting me. We’re not talking about that; we’re talking about you and Jason.”

“There is no ‘me and Jason’,” she reminds him through her clenched teeth.

“Not yet,” he says optimistically. Like it’s a fact, like he knows something she doesn’t.

He makes her want to slam her face into a wall. Truly, he does.

***

Dick stops running his HR papers up to her office. Instead, he’s somehow convinced Jason to play errand boy for him even though he literally never looks happy about it. What used to be a flimsy excuse for Dick to slack off for a few minutes and gossip with her has now turned into awkward silence as Jason drops off the papers and leaves without even a ‘hello’.

During their shared breaks, Dick takes to orchestrating ‘chance encounters’ between her and Jason, all but shoving them into each other (and even actually shoving that one time).  She catches Jason shooting dark looks at Dick every time he does it, and if she’d been holding any iota of hope at this point, it’s been smashed to dust. Jason obviously knows of his brother’s meddling and isn’t happy about it.

But Dick just can’t take the hint.

Every failed plan of his makes him steadily worse about it all—more frantic and frustrated and like he wants to strangle her for her stubbornness. (The last feeling being more than mutual.)

Dick’s meddling starts to make her and Jason’s previously friendly, if distant, relationship awkward and embarrassing. With every pointed comment, she gets closer to just punching Dick in the face. Or, maybe, she’ll just tell Wally who really ate all the chocolate strawberry macaroons she made; it’d certainly be more devastating.

***

It all comes to head on a Thursday, after most employees have left for the day. 

They run into each other in a breakroom, and she watches as Jason suddenly goes stiff, eyes flicking over her shoulder to no doubt scan for Dick. That single action makes her expression sour and she slams her empty mug down with more force than was necessary.

For Kwamis sake, he looks like a cornered animal. An image not helped by the way he jumps a foot in the air and stares at her like he’s worried she’ll suddenly lunge at him.

“Can we agree this is ridiculous?” she says abruptly. “I don’t know what Dick is trying to accomplish with his wingman schtick, but we both know it’s not going to work. Can we just… agree that he’s an idiot?”

A complicated look crosses Jason’s face before he snorts wryly. “Yeah, we can agree on that. Dickie-boy has always been a few sandwiches short a picnic.”

“I know things have been awkward between us lately, and I’m sorry about that, but I hope we can keep being friends?” she says hopefully.

“What in the world do you have to be sorry about?” he asks before she can start catastrophizing about the bewildered expression he makes at her words. “It’s not your fault.”

The smile she shoots him is rueful and she shakes her hand in an ‘ehh’ type gesture. “Kinda is. And I understand if the-” she makes a vague gesture between them that she hopes properly conveys ‘my giant, stupid crush on you’, “you know, is too much for you. Just say the word I’ll try and keep out of your way.”

She’s trying to be comforting or understanding or something like that, but all her words seem to do is make him upset. “Absolutely not,” he insists. “Sunshine, you are not going to change your routine just to make me feel better.”

Marinette crosses her arms, frowning up at him. “Why shouldn’t I? If I’m making you uncomfortable-”

He makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “Uncomfort- Marinette. ” She jolts a bit at the use of her name. She doesn’t think he’s used it since her second week at W.E. “I’m not sure who made you think otherwise—and if it was Dick just tell me cause I’ll kick his ass —but barring the fact that I still enjoy your friendship regardless of any… feelings-” Marinette concentrates very hard on not showing emotion when he says that, “-it’s not your responsibility to deal with it.”

Okay, but… that makes no sense. Of course her feelings were her responsibility, that’s the whole point of them being hers.

“If it’s not mine, then whose responsibility is it then?” she asks, wondering where the hell his train of thought is running.

“Mine, obviously.”

She gives him a look, complete with narrowed eyes and thinly veiled judgment. “What? Is this some kind of gentleman’s martyr complex? Is that what’s happening right now?”

Jason huffs a laugh, but there’s no humor in the sound. “If me taking responsibility for my own damn feelings is a martyr complex then sure,” he snarks, not unkindly. More like he’s trying to protect himself by retreating behind a sour attitude.

Her mouth is halfway around a retort when his words catch up to her brain and she freezes.

“Your feelings?” she repeats. “Your feelings for… me?”

His voice is carefully neutral when he says, “Those would be the ones.”

Her mouth opens and closes and opens again. “You like me? Seriously?”

His face spasms at the question, starting at anger before he properly looks at her and the surprised expression on her face. He pales.

“You didn’t know?”

“No!” she squeaks, something she hasn’t done since she was fifteen. “Well Dick said but I didn’t believe him!”

And fuck, she thinks. This means Dick knew the whole damn time, didn’t he? Oh, she is so going to kill him the second she gets the chance.

Jason runs a hand down his face, covering his mouth as he gathers his bearings. Suddenly, his eyes shoot back open and land on her. “Wait. If you didn't know, then what the hell were you talking about just now?”

She blushes to the tips of her ears and buries her face in her hands so she doesn’t have to look at him. It was easy when she thought he’d figured it out himself. It’s harder now that she has to tell him. “I- I was talking about my crush on you.”

He’s quiet for so long that she gets antsy and peeks out from behind her fingers to see his expression. He’s still looking at her, but now there’s a wide, crooked smile on his face. The expression softens something in her chest and she lowers her hands.

“Really?” he asks, leaning closer.

Marinette nods, feeling a small smile spread across her lips.

He jolts forward, hands reaching for her before suddenly stopping just shy of touching. She startles a bit at the motion but doesn’t move away.

Jason licks his lips, smile smaller but no less bright. “I- can I?”

She blinks. “Can you what?”

“Kiss you.”

The blush returns full force, but with it also comes a smile, giddy and bright. She nods and no sooner than she does, is he swooping down to pull her into a toe-curling kiss. His hands cup her face with a tenderness that makes her smile, makes her giddy, and it’s not long before they’re both smiling too wide to actually kiss and are forced to break apart.

His hands fall to her back, practically engulfing her, and his chin drops onto her head. It’s warm and cozy and she thinks she could so very easily get used to this.

Later, they’re going to have to deal with Dick and Tim and Selina and the teasing they’ll no doubt have to endure—not to mention how much worse the rumors are going to get—but right now? Right now Marinette pulls Jason back down for another kiss and very pointedly doesn’t think about it.

#maribatmarch2021 #maribat #mlb x dc #jasonette #my typewriter #platonic dickinette #platonic timari

[prettyboykatsuki]

»» — {♡} —— { ♡ } —— {♡} — ««

comforting sleep deprived s/o | bnha

➳ incld  ;; bakugo and kirishima 

➳ warnings ;; none, just fluff, pro-hero!au 

➳ wc ;; 1.8k overall. 

➳ a/n ;; i haven’t slept properly in days. running on empty so this is how im coping. i love them. 

»» — {♡} —— { ♡ } —— {♡} — ««

i. bakugo katsuki 

- doesn’t like napping cause he insists on keeping his sleep schedule tight. not that you can really get mad at him over that - hero work is busy and he doesn’t like being tired cause it makes him more aggravated than usual. 

- so he avoids naps almost at all costs and rarely gets tired. his sleep schedule is really, really good. 

- not so much the same for you though. 

- bakugo accepted pretty early on that you were something of a night-owl. bad sleep anxiety and just generally having too much energy at night made it so that he rarely ever saw you go to bed. you were at least lagging a few hours behind him like. at all times. 

- he didn’t really mind at first, but at some point he realized just how little sleep you actually got. one time he woke up at 7am, surprised to see you also awake - only to find out you hadn’t slept the entire night. 

- he was pissed. after almost blowing up your kitchen, he sighed and basically told you that if you need helping sleeping to just “fucking ask him” or else. 

- needless to say, it didn’t get that much better. you two compromised by setting a time that you had to be in bed by, even if you weren’t asleep. whenever bakugo has time, he’s always trying to get you to rest but sometimes his schedule doesn’t really allow him to check up on you how he likes. 

- he’s coming home from a long mission. not super tired but just tedious work. he just wanted to relax. it was late, 3:37am on the clock when he finally walks in. 

- to his surprise - there’s a light on in the kitchen. when he walks in, very confused, he sees you sliding cookies off of a sheetpan into a little plastic tupperware. he stops. he stares. 

- why the hell were you baking at three in the fucking morning 

- “what the fuck are you doing awake?”

- you jump back with a hand over your chest, barely catching your breath. you blink a few times before sighing. 

- “baking. i didn’t think you’d be home so soon” 

- he hears it before he sees it. your voice is absolutely tattered - he can literally hear how exhausted you are. he pumps the breaks, walking towards you swiftly before staring down at you hard. 

- “when was the last time you slept,” 

- you press your lips into a tight smile, and he sees the dark purple under your eyes. he feel his heart hurt a little. his hands come up to your face as he brushes his thumb every so slightly against your lashes. 

- “it’s uh.. hard to sleep without you. more than usual, you know” 

- “Y/N” 

- “i don’t know. maybe two or three days ago properly? i mean i got some sleep in between but -,” 

- he stops you before you can start. he shuts the cookie container and leaves the tray in the sink before grabbing your hand a little forcefully and tugs you to the bathroom - lifting you up onto the counter. you know to stay put. 

- when he comes back it’s with a fresh change of clothes for the both of you. you blink at him owlishly as he strips himself off of his clothes - grateful he took time to shower at the agency. 

- he takes his shirt off and then takes yours off too, before pulling you right towards him. your arms instantly are around his neck, the warmth of his body pressed against your figure with his chin tucked over your shoulder. 

- and god - he’s so comforting you kind of want to cry. he smells like clean soap and deodorant and a little like smoke. feeling his skin against yours makes you feel instant relief. just hugging in the bathroom has you falling half asleep. you were just so tired. 

- when he pulls back, his whole face looks so damn worried it makes you want to cry. you put your own hands on his face and cheek, brushing your thumb on his cheek bone as he rests his forehead on yours. 

- “dumbasss. i can leave something with you if it’s that bad - fuck, you could’ve called me, you know?” 

- and you sigh and smile and kiss him a bit before pulling away again. man, you’re tired. you’re so, so tired. 

- “yeah.. i know,” 

- he helps you get undressed and freshened up, even rubs your facewash into your skin and rubs all your skincare in before hauling you off the bed. he turns the lights dim and just holds you, rubbing circles into your back as he holds you right to his chest. 

- “go to fucking sleep,” “love you katsuki” “..love you too” 

- he doesn’t sleep until you do, and wakes up the next morning to call in sick for you while you sleep against his chest. he should probably wake up but.. sleeping a bit longer won’t kill him. 

{♡} —— { ♡ } —— {♡}

ii. kirishima eijirou 

- kirishima likes to wake up pretty early so he can workout and do his cardio at the start of his day and his weightlifting later on. sleeping well is important to him cause his workout routine is super unforgiving if he’s not resting properly on rest days and the like. building muscles absolutely requires sleep! 

- that being said - he doesn’t mind not sleeping early if he has something to do. drinking especially normally keeps him up on weekends. overall, it was good but he doesn’t limit himself. 

- overall, it’s not something he paid a ton of attention too. life is all about balance so kiri goes with the flow. his rule of thumb is trying to get at least 8 hours a night tho. 

- but because kirishima is so go with the flow - it took him a long time to figure out that you were a night owl and something of an insomniac. he assumed that when he wished you goodnight everday, you fell asleep around the same time as him. 

- but one drunken even, he finds himself stumbling to your apartment. knocking on your and barely standing upright - he immediately is planning on apologizing for disturbing your sleep. 

- but then you.. open the door and you’re literally wide awake. you look tired but you’re clearly not sleepy. kirishima, once gain, blasted - pushes the thoughts to the back of his mind and grins toothily. he’s just excited to see you at that point and forgets about the whole ordeal until a few weeks later. 

- he ends up texting you about it a couple weeks later, assuming it’d be a once off thing that you’d explain to him. 

- ... is upset and shocked to learn that you rarely, if ever fall asleep before two am like on a good day. poor man is in shock for the rest of the day and proceeds to ask you about why you have a hard time to sleeping to try and see what he can do. 

- he wants to help but you just keep brushing it off and it honestly made him so upset he didn’t know what to do with himself. he couldn’t sleep a wink that night because the whole thing is bothering him so damn much. 

- what really sets him off is when he finally has a chance to see you after a few weeks. you were busy with uni and didn’t really have a ton of time to see him so the two of you couldn’t see each other properly for a few weeks. 

- he’s elated to see you. he’s missed his baby so much and he’s pulling all the stops out when he’s getting dressed. jeans cuffed, his best cologne, fresh shaved, brand new sneakers. he really wants to impress. 

- he’s wrapping you up into the tightest hug when he see’s you. your dressed comfortably but he still thinks you look so beautiful and he’s complimenting you, giving you kisses and overall just doting on you. he wraps your hand in his yours and just talks. 

- in fact, he’s so excited to see you, he doesn’t notice how..deflated you are. not at first anyways. 

- but as the date goes on, it becomes more and more obvious you don’t share his enthusiasm in the same way. 

- sure, he’s talkative but you haven’t said a word about how your week has been. all of his jokes have been met with mere huffs and forced chuckles and your eyes seem really distant. 

- it hits him all at once at the end of your date when you just seem so... out of it. he’s about to take you somewhere else but you stopped listening a while ago. kirishima stops dead in his tracks and holds your hand nervously, calling you a few times to get your attention. 

- “Y/N.. are you mad at me? is something wrong?” 

- your eyes go wide, flailing your hands to reassure him. you knew you were acting strange but to see kirishima this upset makes you feel awful. 

- “oh kiri - god no, it’s not you. sorry for being so.. distant - it’s not you,” 

- “well then.. what’s wrong?” 

- kirishima feels his heart get pierced when he sees you laugh. you look... so exhausted. your eyes are so heavy and the makeup on your skin is only barely concealing your dark circles. why did it take him so long to notice? 

- before he can even reply, he remembers that little tidbit about your sleep schedule. his heart so genuinely aches. 

- “Y/N.. when was the last time you got any proper sleep?” 

- you flinch, visibly at the question. with an awkward laugh you inform him that it had been at least a week since you’ve had the time to actually sleep. 

- “why didn’t you sleep today? on your day off?” 

- “i uhm.. wanted to see you. i know you had a date planned and i was excited to see you. sorry for.. ruining your plans” 

- he’s devastated by how cute you are. hugs you so damn tight. 

- “baby, you can see me whenever. im happy being with you even if all we’re doing is napping together” 

- when you mumble a soft “oh” in his chest, he can’t help but melt into a sigh. before you can protest, he’s dragging you back to his car and driving you home ignores your protests and buckles you, covering you with his jacket before kissing the crown of your head and telling you to sleep on the way back to his place. 

- he watches you like a hawk the whole time until he arrives at his place. he wakes you up and carries you on his back until he gets inside. all he does is kick his shoes off before pulling the full weight of you down on his body, kissing your whole face. 

- “sleep well baby. ill wake you up in a few” 

»» — {♡} —— { ♡ } —— {♡} — ««

#bakugou x reader #kirishima x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou imagines #kirishima imagines #bnha imagines #writing tag #bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #kirishima x you #kirishima x y/n #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #this is SO self indulgent im embarassed #bye i rlly wrote this in an hour

[its-deputy-caleb]

Hey, hey! I've been following you for a while and have just worked up the nerves to send in a request. So, how would Dutch, Arthur, and John react to a... reader? An s/o?? Who is the typical outlaw, but the radiation of crack-head energy increases when their running on little to no sleep.

I hope this makes sense, and I hope you have a great day/night 😊

heyyy, i'm so glad you requested this!! it was so fun, seriously you don't need to be nervous, i like to think i'm friendly and writing requests are what i love to do! they make me so happy <333

i hope i understood this, i kinda went with like wild and reckless outlaw running on no sleep so i hope its not terrible! I wrote all of it in under an hour since i've sick so i'll edit it later but for now enjoy :))

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

Dutch

Its a lazy afternoon in Rhodes where you and Dutch had spent the better half of the day sweet-talking Sheriff Gray until he well and truly passed out over his desk from too much moonshine.

It wasn’t often that you got to spend a quiet moment with the gang’s leader and so the two of were enjoying the short ride back to camp together, laughing about the perfect opportunity to rob two families of all they had right under their noses.

Of course, all good things must come to an end as you were quickly ambushed by a large group of raiders.

Maybe it was your apparent lack of sleep or maybe you just had more of a crazier side than you thought but while Dutch began to negotiate with the leader of the group, you didn’t hesitate to whip your revolver from its holster and fire, bringing two down instantly.

“What the hell are you doing!?”

By now, Dutch had no choice to start shooting along with you as the shock of your sudden outburst wore off. From his view he saw you laughing like a maniac as another three raiders fell from their horses.

After working together, you both finally brought down the raiders until only one remained. He was smaller than the others and was attempting to run off into the tree line.

You stood your ground, lining up your revolver to extend from your shoulder and took aim. That was until a hand on your arm brought it back down and you looked over to see Dutch staring at you amused.

“Come now my dear, I think you’ve had your fun. We wouldn’t want to get too carried away so close to camp, would we?”

That afternoon, as the sun was setting over the red dirt, you and Dutch walked back to camp. Your arm was linked with his, resting your body on his side as the exhausting day finally caught up to you.

When you finally returned to camp with your horses trailing behind you, Dutch kissed the back of your hand before wishing you a goodnight.

Arthur

Homestead robberies were one of your favourite things to do with Arthur. You always seemed more excited then him, being more than eager to break down the front door and get to the gold but you knew that deep down grumpy old Arthur enjoyed it too.

You’d already secured your horses well away from the homestead, prepared your weapons and hopped over the fence. Technically Arthur had the lead on this one but you’d never been great at devising a plan.

Both of you have your backs plastered to the wall of the house. You were loading your rifle while Arthur was peering through the window to count the men sitting around the makeshift poker table.

“Now, I’m thinking we go around the back, take em’ by surprise. You take the back window while I — oh where the hell are ya going now?”

Arthur pulled away from the window to see an empty spot besides him. Before he could finish his sentence you’d busted through the front door and fired upon the three men sitting at the poker table.

Arthur had only just managed to come in after you fast enough, firing over your shoulder to the other two armed men.

“How’s that for taking em by surprise huh?”

Your grin is filled with over confidence at your spontaneous approach to the robbery and it only grows as you see Arthur roll his eyes at you.

“Well ya damn took me by surprise. At least warn me next time before you throw yourself in front of danger.”

Whatever comeback you had is cut off by a yawn as your body slowly catches up to the fact you’ve been running on almost no sleep the past three days.

“Common lets just find the stash and go set up camp somewhere to lie low— besides I could use a nap.”

With the tent pitched and your bellies filled with a warmed can of corned beef, you finally allowed yourself to drift off to sleep with your head on Arthur’s chest. If there was one good thing to come out of your crazy and reckless behaviour during robberies, it was that you always got to cuddle up to Arthur afterwards.

John

“Hey John! I gotta tip about some doctors office just up in valentine. Some drunk fella said they were holding a side business for O’Driscoll’s boys. What do ya say?”

Being a close companion to John meant you could always go to him for robberies and potential leads. Together, the two of you weren’t a bad team and always enjoyed getting to spend the extra time with each other so you couldn’t help but jump for joy when he accepted your offer.

The two of you made small talk and shared inside jokes until you hitched your horse at the entrance to the Doctor’s office. John followed behind you but stopped to see you fiddle with your bandana and load your revolver inconspicuously.

John stared at you in shock, knowing you well enough to know exactly what you were thinking. He eyed the Sheriff standing, not three feet in front of you and quickly went to grab your shirt before you could open the door.

“Now wait a damn minute! You can’t just waltz into the front of the store and rob it— how do you even know its a real lead?”

John’s words are as hushed as they can be for someone who’s internally panicking at your apparent lack of planning. His panicking was only worsened when he saw you shrug like it was nothing.

“Live a little Johnny!”

To say that it was a mess was an understatement. The sheriff and the deputies, heard the gunfire immediately and the two of you only managed to barely escape with your lives.

John was half way out the door, whistling for your horses when he saw you run back to grab the pile of cash between two dead O’Driscolls before narrowly escaping the gunfire of the Sheriff’s department.

It wasn’t until hours later when the two of you were hiding in some shack in the middle of nowhere did John finally decide to even bring up just how reckless and wild you’d been.

“Jesus, you’re insane sometimes ya’know that right?”

“Yeah, but you love me!”

#i have returned from the grave #with a request that is rushed and unedited lmao #what is new #but thank uuu for requesting #this made me so happy #<333 #john marston #john marston imagines #john marston x reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan imagines #dutch van der linde #dutch van der linde x reader #gn!reader #rdr2 writing #rdr2 headcanons #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2

[bubblyhoney]

can i request a fic where sapnap takes the reader to his hometown? like the classic going to places he went to when he was younger. maybe playgrounds and ice cream shops idk

places i used to go

warnings: language of course, an allusion to virginap, my uneducated guess of what sapnap was like in highschool, tiny detail of long haired!sapnap, singular canon detail of underage drinking, jokish about marriage

tags: sapnap x gn!reader

words: 2191

A/N: you are a god, anon. i love comfy and nostalgic fics like these and it was so fun to write. if you hate it dont tell me but if you like it lemme know akskdjd

inbox/requests: open

-

The wind whips fast on your bare fingers, cool and quick and raising goosebumps in its wake. You blink in the haze of the early sunset, head lolled to the side of the headrest. It feels good.

“That’s where I went to high school.” Sapnap interrupts your thoughts and points a finger at a collection of tall brick buildings down a side street. The silver of the lettering is dull, but you can still feel the nostalgia.

“And you’re about to see the park that me and my friends used to hang out at after work and—actually, nevermind.” His arm drops to the middle console and he looks straight ahead with slightly pinker cheeks.

“Do what?” You ask, voice all sweet, and a grin grows on your face. You turn towards him and wiggle your eyebrows.

“Nothing. Homework.” He avoids your eye contact and hikes his hand up higher on the steering wheel. “Anyways— Do you want to get some food before we head out? I know a great place.”

You two were just coming to a close on your little trip to visit his family; it was his step-mom’s birthday and you decided to make a week of it. It was your first long-term trip with Sapnap, and also your first time meeting his dad’s side of the family. You were proud to say she loved you. His little sister took a little more effort to talk to you of her own volition, but soon enough she was on your side.

You have a couple hours to kill before making your flight back home, so Sapnap has taken it upon himself to give you a quick tour of his hometown.

“Yeah,” you decide, bottom lip popped out. “Can we get ice cream after?”

“Uh, duh.” The Neighbourhood’s Stargazing starts through the speakers and he reaches to turn it down. “I’m so ready to get home and sleep.” He stretches his neck in his seat, letting out an uncharacteristically inappropriate grunt when his bones pop. You make a disgusted face, nose wrinkling, but stretch your own back, slumping down in the seat. The day had been full of packing up and this horrible hike his dad liked to do early in the mornings, so you two were pretty beat.

“Okay, we’re here,” he announces three sleepy minutes later in his best attempt at a whisper. Lifting your head off of the corner of your seat, you blink in the setting sunlight as a yawn splits your face. “You’re so cute.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, and struggle to get your seatbelt off in that post-nap haze. You’d barely been asleep for thirty seconds, damn it. The air is a swampy heat when you step out of the car onto rocky gravel and nearly twist your ankle climbing over the curb. Sapnap catches you by the lower back, trying to hide his laugh but failing miserably. You slide him a dirty look, smacking his shoulder as hard as you can manage while limping towards the front entrance.

The door jingles when you two breach the doorway, alerting a bored-looking hostess that the circus has arrived. She looks at Sapnap a second longer than she should, eyebrows screwed together in silent confusion. But she leads the two of you to a booth near a large window, handing you sticky menus and promptly fucking right off to the host station. She nearly runs.

“Do you know her?” You ask, inconspicuously hiding your face in the search for their 24/7 breakfast menu. You feel his eyes on you.

“Don’t think so.” He leans on one elbow and slides his phone out of his jeans’ pocket. In the 25 seconds it takes for you to find their french toast and sides menu, he has browsed and closed his phone with an animatedly shocked look on his face.

“What?” You give him a weird look and put down the menu.

“I totally went to homecoming with that girl.” He eyes the hostess. You glance over at her again, meeting her gaze, and offer a polite smile. She turns away quickly, eyes wide.

“She’s cute,” you say, voice high and fake, and he drums his fingers on the tabletop as an amused look makes its way onto his face.

“Are you—?”

“What?” You reply right back.

“Nothing.”

Thank God the server comes up to your table then and starts asking for drink orders, or else you’d have to admit (sheepishly) you were a tiny eensy-weensy bit annoyed. Only a tad. But after requesting a Dr. Pepper and a water the conversation surrounding the nervous-looking hostess dies.

“I’m so hungry I think I feel my stomach shrinking.” You flop your head onto your arm on the table top and make a whiny noise into the stack of napkins your server left at the table. Sapnap rubs his thumb into the side of your forearm, touch warm and nearly dissolving the pangs of hunger and jealousy.

“You weren’t hungry an hour ago.” He lifts your hand to his face and plants a kiss on the back of it. Oh, pulling out the big guns, huh? “I would have made you something.”

You tilt onto your chin, pouting, and stare up at his cute face. His cute, scruffy, perfectly-kissable face.

“I think I got hungry staring at you for half an hour.” A mischievous grin grows on your previously-petulant face and he just shakes his head.

“I do have that effect,” he admits with cockiness in his tone, lifting his eyebrows and leaning back into the booth with his lips pursed.

The server returns with two glasses and takes your food orders onto their little yellow notepad. You chug the water down when they leave for the kitchen, getting your lap and chin thoroughly wet in the process. Sapnap just snorts at you and shoves the napkins your way.

“So,” you start, patting dry your jeans. “tell me what you were like in high school.” You cross your arms and settle into the booth, smirk on your lips.

“What I was like?” He parrots, sipping at his soda, looking thoughtful. “Firstly, a virgin.” You make a noise. Duh. Dude had a buzz cut his junior year. (You’ve seen the pictures. His step-mom particularly likes them.) “Secondly, I was actually— well, I wasn’t popular, but I had a lot of friends. We were all semi-athletic lonely band kids but we had fun. Had one girlfriend senior year but she went to Cal Tech in the fall and I didn’t. I, um, worked at a Dairy Queen in the summers and gained so much weight I had to lose all over again for Unified Track.”

“Relatable,” you comment, drinking noisily at your water. He fiddles with the paper straw wrapper and crunches it up into a ball. It goes soaring into your drink with a quiet “Kobe” and you just give him a look. He smiles toothily right back at you. “Stop being cute, I’m trying to listen to your story.”

“Oh, my bad,” he mocks. “Anyways. That’s what I was like in highschool.” You fish the paper ball out of your water and flick it wetly at his arm. It sticks and you choke on a laugh, cheeks puffed.

Two plates of warm food are set down loudly onto the table and you thank the server with a surprised smile, Sapnap mirroring you.

Two minutes of wordless chewing passes, minds occupied just by “food, me eat” instead of anything related to your previous conversation. You realize that Sapnap is one of the loudest chewers ever, and he realizes that you fail to notice the streak of maple syrup in your hair.

“C’mere,” he mumbles through a mouthful of omelet and hash browns and beckons you with his hand. You lean closer, chewing slowly, as he pats a napkin at the strands of hair trapped in syrup.

“Thanks, baby.” You take the napkin from him and pause your assault of the warm french toast before you to clean the sticky sugar out of your hair. He just watches you, half of a smile on his lips.

You two finish your food in record time. It’s borderline vacuum-like. There’s a short grace period where you just sit like two lazy cats, slumped down in the booth and holding your full stomachs. But the check comes soon after, and you both pay your way and are out of the restaurant without any mad dashes for the bathroom. A miracle, really, because of the American-like amount of butter you both consume.

“I’m a much more functional person now,” you mutter into the cotton of his shoulder, swinging your hand in his. He just hums in agreement.

“I guess we’re not getting ice cream, then,” he teases, and you just groan in response.

“I don’t feel like having diarrhea on a plane, unfortunately.” You sigh heavily when you have to split and get into your respective sides of the rental car.

The entire trip (somewhat roundabout because of the amount of side quests to show you things from his childhood) to the airport Sapnap is a chatterbox. He’s like this when he has sugar: either bouncing off the walls with energy or talking your ear off.

“That’s where my dad proposed to my step-mom. I was kinda young but I remember being surprised at how big the ring was— dude broke the bank for her.” It’s a little gazebo you catch a glimpse of through the trees in a park. It probably was an incredibly picturesque moment, and you can sense how much she must have loved it. With just meeting them this weekend, you can already see how much love those two have for each other.

You hope people can see how much you love Sapnap.

“Oh my God, it’s still there.” He points out the side of your window to what looks like a Dairy Queen that has been through World War 3. “My buddy Eric and I once spilled a gallon of that liquid ice-cream-shit all over the men’s bathroom.”

You shoot him a horrified look. “Why was it in the bathroom?”

He just smirks.

“—And that’s my Uncle Ron’s house. Had my first beer there.”

“And last, hopefully,” you add, pulling a disgusted face. The two story bungalow is cute, and one of your favorite colors: olive green. “That shit is nasty.”

He just shrugs and continues down the side street.

“Is this the park you were talking about?”

He pulls into the gravelly parking lot of a small clearing of tall trees, a picnic table and campfire sat squat in the middle. But he doesn’t respond, just turning the car off and climbing out. He reaches the passenger door without speaking, and opens it for you. You climb carefully out, confused.

“Come on.” He takes your hand and starts for a small path to the left of the picnic table. The mid-sunset shade envelopes the both of you.

“I hope this isn’t where you kill me.”

“No,” he snorts. “I just wanted to show you something.”

It’s just a few moments of stumbling through the damp underbrush before you’re coming face to face with a small, mossy pond that sits right underneath an incredibly old willow tree. He stops right on the edge of the rocky path and turns toward you.

“This your make out spot?” You ask between a grin as he snakes an arm around your waist and tugs you flush to him. Your innocent smile fades when you feel the press of his lips to the side of your neck, light and ticklish. Oh.

“No,” he murmurs, and just breathes you in. “I came here once—the night before I graduated highschool. And I told myself when I really really loved someone I’d take them here with me.” He sways with you in his grasp, a gentle and song-less dance.

You grip his shoulder tighter in your hand and lean into him.

“That’s— awfully romantic, huh?” Your voice is quiet. Almost nervous. He just makes a noise of agreement.

“So here we are.” His voice is the opposite of yours, all strong and confident.

You two just move together for a moment. The sun breaks through the tree canopy, shining bright orange down onto the glassy surface of the pond. Crickets and frogs chirp back and forth as the willow vines swing in a cool evening breeze. You watch nature come alive around you, suddenly grateful for the man in your arms.

“Don’t propose,” you whisper, breaking the gentle tension. A laugh breaks the silence and he’s pulling away to look at you. Maybe in disbelief. A strand of hair falls into his eyes and you brush it away, fingers stilling on his temple and sliding down onto his cheek. Stubble scrapes against the skin of your palm and he stares at you through those meadow eyes.

You realize in that moment that he is exactly himself. Of course he is. He’s Sapnap, and everything that encompasses that. Dark and light and fiery and cool. He always has been, and always will be.

You realize you wouldn’t mind if he proposed.

-

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. let me know what you think

#sapnap #mcyt #sapnap x gn!reader #sapnap x reader #sapnap x you #sapnap fluff #sapnap drabble #sapnap one shot #sapnap oneshot #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #honey answers #my lovely anon #sapnap fanfic #bubblyhoneyfics

[therenlover]

In Fleeting Touches & Airy Sighs Chapter One (A Three Chapter Helmut Zemo/Reader Fanfic)

(Thank you to the wonderful anon who requested angst and smut between Zemo and the reader because Zemo had to be away from her on the run!)

Synopsis: A year after working together with Zemo in the events of Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Sam and Bucky seek him out once again in need of shelter from John Walker. Meanwhile, Zemo’s wife resents his absence and prepares for guests.

Tags: Flashbacks, Depression, Alcoholism, Separation Anxiety, Arguing, Struggling Marriage, Reunions

Rating: T (E in future chapters)

Warnings: Guns, Swearings, Reader shows signs of alcoholism/alcohol abuse, Reader uses a hot shower as a mild form of self harm

Word Count: 5000~

This fic has been crossposted under the same title to my AO3!

----------

Helmut Zemo was not often a man backed into a corner.

He was smart, resourceful, and had nothing left to lose. If it came down to the line, he would do whatever had to be done within his morals to achieve his goals, even if that goal was simply staying alive. The Baron bowed to no man, and made his enemies, no matter their size, fall to their knees with sheer wit instead of brute strength. That’s why, when he stood backed into an alley with the barrel of James Barnes’ gun to his forehead as the Falcon watched on, it was strange that he didn’t try to weasel his way out.

“We need answers,” Sam said, hands in the pockets of his dark hoodie. Bucky wore a similar one, only he wore a baseball cap instead of keeping his hood up. “How the hell did you break out of prison for a second time?”

Usually, Zemo would have replied with a clever quip. He had never been one to back down from a fight. This time, though, he looked almost frightened as he raised his arms in defeat. “I got in contact with friends on the outside during our short adventure together. They decided to help me out once I was re-incarcerated, willingly I might add. I had no part in the plan, but who would look a gift horse in the mouth?”

“And I guess I’m just supposed to assume you had no part in getting my pardon revoked?” Bucky spat.

“If you hadn’t noticed, James, I’ve left you alone,” A hint of his usual mockery slipped into Helmut’s tone, but he quickly pulled it back, “Believe what you want about me, but I’ve had some time since last year to… re-evaluate my feelings on the world. You had no choice but to do the things you did as the Winter Soldier, and as long as you pose no threat to society now I have no qualms with you,”

Despite the strangeness of Zemo’s response Bucky remained unphased. Sam, on the other hand, was less stoic.

“Man, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but the government is looking for Bucky and I harder than they’re looking for you, and it’s kind of all your fault, so excuse me for not giving a shit about your supposed sudden change of heart!”

“Can we get to the point? I’m afraid my flight leaves in an hour and I would hate to be late,”

“Cut the bullshit!” There Bucky went, pushing the cold metal closer to Zemo’s furrowed forehead.

“Bucky...” Sam warned.

“No, Sam, I can do this. Did you or did you not actively attempt to get my pardon revoked when you took us to Madripoor? Because thanks to you, a worse symbol than Sam is now standing unchecked with the title of Captain America AND he has access to the last of the new super soldier serum AND he’s trying to get us killed so we can’t tell the world about the awful shit he does,”

“I-” Zemo went to speak and, for the first time since he had met him, Sam believed he was being genuine. There was a tremble that made its way through him, all the way to his raised hands and even his voice. It was enough that Bucky even lowered the gun minutely. “I understood that by following my lead, the both of you were risking a lot. I didn’t intend any specific malice with my actions though, no. If I may… the two of you have attracted a lot of attention here in the past few days. I assume Walker is very close to finding you?”

Sam and Bucky shared a look before Sam responded. “Maybe, why?”

“I have a safe house,” he continued, “I don’t stay there often so the location isn’t compromised, but it’s my next stop. Might I suggest we take this conversation on the road? I would hate to host your reunion with Mr. Walker in an alley over my corpse,”

There was a moment of complete stillness. Zemo remained, face dark with that strange deer-in-headlights look, a perfect statue, as the barrel of Bucky’s gun remained pointed firmly in his direction and Sam shared what seemed to be a completely silent conversation with Bucky. It was true that they had been burned before. Zemo was a man with his own agenda who did what it took to fulfill it. That being said, he had returned willingly with them back to prison before he was broken out, and without his help, the band of freshly minted super soldiers would still be running around Europe causing chaos. In the end, Bucky lowered his gun slowly before tucking it away into his boot holster.

Zemo grinned.

“Don’t think this means we trust you,” Sam groaned, pointing a finger at the man.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Now, gentlemen, I believe we have a plane to catch,”

As the trio began to make their way out of the alley Bucky and Sam fell to the flank of the group. “Do you really think this is a good idea?” Bucky asked, eyes darting between his two companions. Sam shrugged.

“At this point, I’m doing whatever it takes to get home to my family in one piece. If that means I have to ride in Zemo’s stupid private jet again and lay low for a while, then that’s what I’m gonna do, because Sarah and those kids don’t deserve to lose me all over again,”

“But don’t you think he’s acting a little… weird?”

“Don’t worry, I have my eye on him. If he tries anything we can just throw him out front when Walker tries to shoot us,”

“You’re doing a very poor job of concealing your conversation,” Zemo shouted.

Bucky stormed ahead as Sam laughed.

“Oh, shut up!”

Surprisingly, the drive to the airstrip was mostly uneventful, as was the relatively short flight from Zurich to Avignon. There was, of course, the usual cutthroat banter and tension so thick you could feel it like a fog hanging over the group, but in an unusual twist of fate, the baron did very little to initiate. Of course, he wasn’t fully innocent though. He never was. That being said, even as his chauffeur carefully navigated the stone roads to the dropoff point he was strangely quiet. He had texted someone earlier to have the house prepared for their arrival but he kept looking down at the phone as if a response would come. It didn’t.

Sam appreciated the break from the noise. To him, it was a moment of peace after a few months of constant opposition. For the duration of the trip, he had chosen to shoot a few choice quips Bucky’s way before taking a long nap. Bucky, on the other hand, was only growing more suspicious of Zemo by the minute.

After his time with Hydra, Bucky had become intimately acquainted with the type of man that Zemo was. He was ruthless, driven by ideals that couldn’t be changed by any amount of debate or theory read inside a prison cell, and willing to do whatever it took to fulfill those ideals no matter the cost. There was remorse but no regret. A man like that doesn’t just stop believing in the thing that led him to kill dozens if not hundreds of people, because once the impetus is gone so is the only thing upholding their sense of self.

In basic terms, he was hiding something. Bucky was intent on finding out what that thing was, a thing important enough to make Zemo of all people shut the hell up and tell his enemies exactly where his safe house was, and he wasn’t going to rest until he did. The answer came easily enough in the end, but not before Sam and Bucky were forced face to face with the strangest thing they had ever seen, even when including aliens and wizards. That thing was Zemo buying flowers.

The trio had gotten out of the car somewhere around the center of the city and continued towards the safe house on foot. A few minutes after they started, though, Zemo had spoken.

“I apologize, but I’ll have to stop for a moment,” He said, holding up a hand to alert the two men trailing him to the fact that he was about to stop. Sam quirked up an eyebrow.

“At a flower shop?”

There, to the right of them, was a small fleuriste. The window was a burst of bright color. Pinks, reds, whites, purples; a certain bunch of spring blooms had caught Zemo’s eye. He shrugged. “It’s rude to arrive at someone’s house asking for a favor without a gift, Mr. Wilson. Excuse me,”

With a comfort that said he had been into the shop many times, Zemo walked through the door and began conversing with the shop owner in perfect French, even referring to her as tu instead of vous as he made his purchase.

“Did he just say someone’s house ?” Sam asked Bucky, eyes widening.

Bucky gritted his teeth. “Yeah, I think he did,”

“So, we’re just showing up at someone’s door,”

“Yup. Not to mention they’re someone who aligns themself with him,”

A groan escaped from Sam as he ran his hand down his face in disbelief. “I didn’t expect much from Zemo, but damn,”

“It’s your fault for expecting anything from Zemo in the first place,”

“For once, you’re right,”

They dawdled for a moment. As their conversation stilled, Zemo returned, now burdened by a sizable bouquet from the window. Around them, the city was starting to get off of work. Families walked together as businesses had their 5 o’clock shift change. Somehow as the world around them came to life it didn’t look at Sam and Bucky with anything more than a passing glance. They were tourists, nothing more. For a moment Sam understood why Zemo would go to a place like this for safety and anonymity.

Without ceremony, the trio began walking towards their destination once again.

“I apologize for the delay,” Zemo said, keeping his pace brisk and remaining about a foot ahead of his companions, “I suppose it’s become a bit of a habit that I buy Y/N flowers whenever I come back. We shouldn’t be long now, though, the house is just a few more blocks away, maybe 3 minutes by foot,”

“Y/N?” Bucky asked. The name felt heavy on his tongue, familiar. That had to be a coincidence though. Zemo would never align himself with anyone who had worked for Hydra, and there was no other place he could have heard that name and had it hold any significance. Right?

Zemo chuckled. “Y/N is our host. I’d appreciate it if you tried to maintain some semblance of respect when we arrive, she tends to have quite the temper and it would reflect badly on me if she believed I was asking her to indefinitely house two people who would happily send her to prison,”

“About that,” Sam chimed in, “Who the hell are we about to be staying with? It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I don’t, and by extension, I also don’t tend to trust people who trust you,”

“I assure you, Sam, Y/N is more trustworthy to you than I will ever be,”

“That doesn’t answer my question, nor does it make me feel any better,”

“She’s American, and like you, she is seeking shelter from the government. Isn’t that enough for you?”

“Man, at this point I feel like you’re not telling us because she’s actually some sort of crazy Sokovian sleeper agent who’s gonna stab us in the back while we sleep. Am I crazy, Buck, or am I right?”

Bucky, who had been trying his best to stay out of the conversation, replied. “You are being unnecessarily evasive, Zemo, though that’s nothing new…”

“Right? Like, I’m really grateful that you’re lending us a hand, but I’ve gotta be honest, if I think for a second things are going south-”

Sam never got to finish his sentence.

Suddenly, Zemo stopped short, turning around and looking Bucky in the eye with a madness neither he nor Sam had ever seen before. His whole body was stiff, rigid. The hand that wasn’t cradling the flowers delicately was gripped in a fist at his side. He looked angry, but underneath the anger, he really just looked scared. “You will not touch her. Do you hear me? Do what you’d like with me, I have made choices worthy of punishment, but you will not touch Y/N. If you so much as think of it, all bets are off. Do you understand me?”

Bucky nodded, sharp. This was certainly interesting. Sam just smirked.

“Is there something else you want to tell us?”

Zemo walked up a small set of stairs towards a home to their right. “No, Mr. Wilson, I don’t believe so,”

The building was a nice one, all tan stone with dark wrought-iron fixtures on its many windows. It looked, for all intents and purposes, like a normal midtown manor-house for some upper-class member of the community. The normalcy of it all hid its true purpose in plain sight. It was genius, really. Over a dividing wall made of the same yellowing stone, Sam could see a small sliver of vibrant green garden space and a pool at the side of the building.

With a steadying breath, Zemo knocked on the door.

“You have to knock on the door of your own safe house?” There was a hint of incredulity in Bucky’s voice as he crossed his arms. This was going to be a disaster. Why had they agreed to this again?

“A little etiquette goes a long way, James, especially when you’re already in the doghouse,” Then, the door opened.

Bucky froze. There, standing in the doorway with a pistol in her hand and a fire in her eyes, was a woman he thought long dead: you. This couldn’t be right! He had killed you back in ‘02 with the rest of the AAHR...

You quirked up an eyebrow at Zemo.

“Give me one reason I should let you in and not shoot you on the spot,”

They were so fucked.

________________

The day, on your end of the world, had gone by much slower.

It started off like any other, with the alarm on your bedside table blaring as you opened your eyes and your arms reached out into the emptiness in the sheets beside you. Sometimes, when Helmut’s flight got in late enough, you would wake up and reach to the side only to find that he had appeared beside you in the night. Those were the best kind of reunions. They were free of pretense, no bitterness or resentment clouded your sleep-heavy brain when you opened your eyes to his peaceful resting face, and you could simply fall into the comforting rhythm of husband and wife. If you reunited with a clear head things tended not to go as well.

You groaned. It wasn’t as if there was even a guarantee he would come back, especially not after the way you’d left things last time. The philosophy of attendre et espérer, waiting and hoping like an Edmond Dantés type, wouldn’t do you any good, at least not anymore.

Maybe it was time to start moving on…

Tomorrow. You could start thinking about the next steps tomorrow. For today you’d enjoy what you had.

Getting out of bed was difficult but you managed. The sun streamed through the curtains that billowed gently in the breeze near your balconette, brilliant gold beams illuminating the dust that danced in the air. The first thing you did was shuffle along to the corner and pour yourself two fingers of brandy from Helmut’s private collection. It was like a morning ritual these days, a numbing agent against the loneliness. Once the drink was downed you moved on to the closet to get dressed.

Dressing yourself wasn’t of much importance these days. You couldn’t exactly leave the house, and nobody was visiting, so more often than not, it was easier to just wear the same pajamas for a few days until you knew Oeznik would be around to drop off groceries. Today, though, you felt… filthy. Not dirty in a physical way, just sticky and filthy and unclean under your skin and in your very heart. Maybe a shower would help.

You looked around the closet with a clinical eye. It was difficult to be in there, surrounded by lavish dresses and expensive suits that you and your husband had worn arm in arm while plotting the downfall of the Avengers before your unsteady alliance had turned into so much more. Everything still smelled like his cologne. In the small, often-closed, walk-in closet, the scent had only intensified, covering every article of clothing with a fog of cedarwood and sage. It made you sick, choked the air from your lungs and left you gasping for even a single breath that didn’t sit heavy on your tongue with the bitter taste of that familiar musk.

The alcohol had helped. It always did. The remnants of its burn in your mouth formed a sort of guard against the scent of the closet as you searched through a pile of shirts for something soft and easy to wear. Your hands suddenly stilled.

“Zemo, I’m gonna be honest, this is the ugliest sweater I’ve ever seen in my entire life,”

“I’m hurt! That’s one of my favorites,”

“Where did you even get it, a 90-year-old grandpa’s closet? Jesus Christ, it looks like something out of a shitty 70’s flick about family values,”

“I’ll have you know that I thrifted that sweater. It’s very eco-conscious you know,”

Your heart hurt. Well, no, your whole body hurt, but your heart ached a little more prominently as you carefully picked up the sweater and held it to your chest. It was terribly ugly, 4 sizes too big even on Helmut and covered in an olive and forest green argyle. Somehow he was always able to pull off the oversized thing no matter how ridiculous you had always insisted you found it. When was the last time he’d worn it again?

The memory evaded you.

Still, it was a happy relic, happier than most of the monuments to a failing marriage that lined the shelves of your beautiful personal prison. It wouldn’t hurt to hope that by wearing it, you might rub just a little bit of that lost happiness off onto your present-day, right? With one last forlorn glance around the closet, you gathered up the sweater and a pair of jeans before getting out as fast as you could. With the scent of cologne clinging to you, the shower wasn’t just a good idea now, it was necessary.

So, you showered. You took the stupid foot-long exfoliating brush Helmut loved so much and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed yourself under the near-boiling stream of water until your skin was pink and raw. Disappointingly, even the new skin felt filthy. It was better, though, less intense. With some lotion and a little bit of Neosporin on the fresh patches of blotchy red, you were able to feel okay. Not good. Not clean. Just… okay. At least you didn’t smell like him anymore. The clock read 12:14 when you finally made it out of the bathroom in search of some real food.

Lunch, if you could call it that, was a silent affair. The fridge was almost empty and the pantry was only a little less bare, so you threw together a cheese sandwich, not even bothering to waste butter and grill it. You ate it plain with another glass of brandy out on the pool deck. It was gone sooner than you hoped it would be.

Oh well.

You finished your brandy with a sigh. Only seven or eight more hours until you could finish your day with a few more drinks and pass out in bed until nine or ten once again. Ah, dreamless sleep. That sounded divine. Now if only you could fathom any non-depressing way to spend the time between sleeping and waking. Swimming was out, the chemicals would burn your freshly eviscerated skin. Playing solitaire for the fourth day in a row sounded like absolute hell on earth. Even watercolors, a usual calming respite from the torturous and neverending monotony of life trapped alone in a house you had no help in stocking, were off the table ever since you’d run out of paper.

Somewhere inside the house, your phone dinged.

The second the sound hit your ears you jumped, dropping your glass and letting it shatter into a thousand tiny shards on the stone of the patio.

Phones were a difficult thing to own for someone who was trying to stay out of the eyes of the government. They were too easy to track and could tip off enemies to your location with very little error needed on your part. Even searching the internet for innocent things was too risky. If your search history was too similar to that of the alias you had used before Helmut went to prison, it would have been easy for them to find a connection and send someone to track you down. Still, you kept a cell phone charged and ready on the kitchen counter despite the risk for one reason and one reason only: Emergency contact with your husband.

He never texted from the same number on more than one occasion, always switching from burner phone to burner phone as he flew across the country doing god knows what, but if he was ever in a situation where emergency contact with you was needed, he was able to reach you at your number immediately. It had only happened a couple of times, and each time he had been in a considerable amount of danger. So, when you suddenly heard the sound you dreaded more than anything else in the world, you were quick to rush inside, even ignoring the shattered glass at your feet as you shoved through the doors and found the phone.

The small, LED display was lit up with the notification. It made your heart both soar and sink.

Flying home with two guests. Prepare the two rooms for their stay. We will be there by 5 at the latest - B

You read over the message several times before letting the phone fall from your hand and back onto the counter with a dull thud.

That absolute asshole.

Three months. Three months you had spent sitting alone. Three months without a call, or a text, or a letter, or even a word of when he was coming back by way of Oeznik. Three months! And after three months of loneliness and sleepless nights and empty bottles on the drink cart he reaches out through an emergency line of contact that almost certainly means he might be dying only to tell you he’s bringing two strangers into your safe house, the place even he refuses to stay in too long in order to not give its location away. The scar on your spine was starting to burn as you leaned up against the counter and cried.

It was ridiculous to think you had ever believed him capable of more tact than that.

Really, it was your fault. From the beginning, you’d had too much faith in a man incapable of being trustworthy, even to those closest to him. You knew that, and yet you had married him. Maybe the soft touches and sweet lies he had spoon-fed you had made you weak. Maybe you always had been.

“I’m not a child, Helmut, I know what I’m doing!”

“I don’t think you do,” he shouted. He was a few drinks in now, you both were. The nights before his departures never tended to end well when you both drank. “Because no matter what I do to protect you, you have the need to disobey me! Have you considered that I do the things I do for your own good!”

“Oh! Oh yes, the things YOU do!” You slammed your glass down on the table as you stormed over to Helmut, “I sit here all day like a fucking dog in a cage while you fly to fucking Ibiza and flirt with supermodels, but YOUR story is just so fucking tragic! I’m your wife, Helmut! I’m not an animal or your property, I’m your goddamn wife! You can’t just order me to sit and stay like a dog,”

He glared down at you, eyes hawkish and glinting in the low lamplight. For the first time in years, he looked threatening, “You may not be a dog, or a child, or my property, but you are a weapon! It’s my job to keep you here, away from the-”

“Excuse me?” You interrupted. The two of you stood, inches away and yet miles apart. Slowly, the drive in Helmut’s eyes faltered. “Say that again. I dare you,”

“Schatz, I-”

“No, Helmut, you meant it so say it again. Call me that again. I fucking dare you,” Tears were streaming down your face now. He took a step towards you, hand extended to wipe them away, but you were quick to take a step back out of his reach.

“You misunderstood me,”

“I don’t think there was anything to misunderstand,”

You swept the shards of your glass tumbler into a dustpan, hands still shaking even ten minutes after you’d read Helmut’s message to you. As you worked, your last conversation before he’d left echoed in your mind.

How had it all devolved into that? It wasn’t hard to remember Helmut before prison, jaded and broken and lonely. He had been so much like you and yet so different. Each of you seemed to be the perfect balm for the others' wounds. In the end, despite all of his flaws, you had found yourself in love. Now that he was a different man, was that love gone? You couldn’t say. All you knew for sure was that you weren’t nearly drunk enough to be facing the confusing feelings in your brain. With the last of your energy, you emptied the dustpan of glass into the trash can and returned to the house, sweater itchy against your irritated skin, to ready the guest rooms.

The job wasn’t a long one. You had never used the guest rooms in all the time you’d spent at the Avignon property, so the sheets were already clean. There was just a thin layer of dust on the furniture that needed to be swept away as you checked to make sure the dressers were bare and the bathrooms were stocked with amenities. Then, when that was done, you were left to your thoughts as the hours ticked by.

Most of the time you spent sitting on the couch doing absolutely nothing. It sounded terrible, and in all honesty it was, but what else could you do? The house was already spotless so cleaning wasn’t an option, and you didn’t quite feel like doing much of anything as you stared at the clock and tried to remember a time when your life was less of a disaster. As it got closer to five, though, you started to get antsy.

You had tried your best to not think about the obvious issue of the guests. Zemo was not the type to threaten his home, even if he wasn’t happy with you, so usually having anyone who wasn’t Oeznik or another paid lackey aware of the location of your safe house would be a big no in his book, but then you started thinking of the implications of him bringing people into your home. Your home, not his. Was he on his way to kill you? It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Or maybe he was bringing your replacement.

Now that thought made anger bubble up in your throat. You were no stranger to the idea that when your husband was away, he could be doing anything. There was no guarantee when he slept in lavish hotels or drank the night away in elite lounges that he kept his wedding ring on. The fact that there were two guests meant it was unlikely he was bringing two mistresses, but never impossible. Nothing was impossible when it came to Helmut.

No, it was more likely he had finally decided it was time to end your suffering. The shouts and boisterous laughter that started to sound directly outside of the front room window only confirmed the for you. Slowly, you crept towards the door and grabbed a small pistol from its place in the umbrella stand. If he wanted you dead you weren’t going to go without a fight.

Through the curtains on the front door, you could just barely make out the trio. When you saw them your blood ran cold. It was one thing if he needed help to take you down, but getting the Winter Soldier on board? Your rage only grew by the minute.

Helmut said something, probably planning the best course of action to catch you off guard, and you sneered. Two could play at that game. When he knocked on the door you opened it calmly and held the gun with your finger just barely ghosting over the trigger.

Everyone froze.

“Give me one reason I should let you in and not shoot you on the spot,” you said, rage coursing through every nerve in your body. You may have been in retirement for quite a few years, but you still knew how to handle a gun. Everyone there, except maybe the Falcon, knew that. As Zemo went to open his mouth, you prepared for a firefight.

“Because I brought you flowers,”

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

a/n: Sorry that only one chapter is out! The fic is just getting very long and complicated and I wanted to make sure you got as much as possible before the next episode drops lol. I’ll be working pretty much nonstop from now until then, though, so the next parts should be out soon!

TAGLIST: @tatestripedsweater​ , @elaineygrace​, @multiyfandomgirl40​ ,  @lovelymischief​ , @rami-malek-trash​ , @dazzlingseb​, @avgravy​ , @sarahsilver , @wh0re-4-techno​ , @forcebros​ , @sugarsweetkiss​ , @grandmuffinsharkbailiff​ , @killsandthrills​ , @novasstudy​ , @thnksfr-ptrkstmp​ , @inmate-marmalade​, @alanathedeer​ , @mossybank​ , @simsiddy​ , @xxspqcebunsxx​ 

Please do not post my work on other sites, thank you!

#zemo #helmut zemo #baron zemo #baron helmut zemo #zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo x reader

[xbadgerbearx]

bird

word count: 1.6k

Can’t Sleep: [4] … [6]

Not too long later, Gaius Grieves revealed himself. Your little trio watched as Robert discreetly put a gun to his back and started talking. You weren't close enough to decipher what he said. Once he started moving your team got the cue to follow. However, everyone stopped in their tracks once soldiers were spotted.

"I thought Milton was supposed to be our lookout," you muttered as the soldiers started speaking Spanish to the patrons in the club.

As the soldiers got more aggressive in their search for Americans, Robert turned to Cleo.

"All right," Robert motioned to Grieves. "Take him out through the back, all right? Find my coordinates in the pad and meet me in half an hour," he ordered while handing Abner a gun.

"What?"

"Hey, did you hear what I said?"

"Yes, but-"

"Go."

Cleo hesitated before grabbing Grieves.

"Let's go."

As you were leading your small group to the back entrance, you heard Robert yell out, "Hey, calm down! There's no need to disturb everyone's night."

You could faintly hear Flag speak up as you found a door marked Solo Empleados.

"This way."

Unfortunately the door you opened was the dressing room for the dancers. You heard Abner say, "Oh, God," before a stumbling sound and a gun being handled. You briefly looked back to see Abner holding Grieves at gun pointing and ordering him to "Move it!"

Damn. That was a little hot.

Pushing your way through the dancers and out the door, you let out a small gasp at the soldier standing in front of you. Cleo, ever the quick thinker, used her device to have a rat crawl down his throat.

"Remind me not to get on your bad side."

You eventually made your way outside in an alley. Milton jogged over once he caught sight of you four.

"Your equipment manipulates animal behavior, clever," Grieves spoke out. "I'm working on something similar with humans."

"Be quiet, please."

"You are perceivably panicked. I'm guessing that you are not the alphas of this battalion."

"Do you want a dozen angry rodents crawling up your ass?" Cleo snapped.

"My answer might not be what you expect."

"Disgusting," you commented as Abner ushered Grieves to move.

You quickly made your way into the van. Milton took the driver's seat, Abner sat in the middle across from Grieves who still had a gun pointed at him, and you and Cleo took a seat in the back by Nanaue.

"Hello, friends!"

"Hi, yes, hello to you too, Nanaue," you said before pointing at Grieves. "Nom nom this man if I give the word."

"Okay!"

Cleo rummaged through DuBois bag before handing you the coordinate pad he spoke of earlier. Was that a picture of his daughter you saw? You couldn't get a good look since Cleo zipped up the bag. Coordinates in hand, you made your way back up the front to give Milton directions.

"Oh ho ho, what's this?" Grieves smuggly declared. You were too busy paying attention to the road to hear him.

"What's what?"

"I saw that little look you gave to your teammate."

"There was no look," Abner denied.

"Ah, but there was. How are you going to pretend you weren't just looking at their ass as they passed? You seem to have a school boy crush."

"Abner has a crush?" Cleo entered the conversation.

"No!"

Grieves laughed before answering Cleo. "You seem to have forgotten that I study people for a living, and I am very good at my job."

"Pet pet and Polky?" Nanaue piped up from the back.

"No! No Pet pet and Polky," Abner said with exasperation. However, upon looking at you and seeing how captivating you looked under the flashing lights of the street lamps, he followed it up with defeated, "Okay, maybe Pet pet and Polky."

"Dios mío!" Cleo exclaimed before she was hurriedly shushed. They both looked over to see if you heard.

"Okay, now take a right onto this street."

You did not.

"I'm happy for you, Abner."

"You seem to have forgotten you are on a mission. This isn't some little girl's slumber party."

Cleo slapped Grieves over the back of the head as Abner seemed to remember that he had a gun in his hand.

"Be quiet."

"Is- is that them?"

The team all looked at you as they looked out the window. Following your gaze, it landed on an upside down armored vehicle in a ditch.

"Of course it is, who else would be dumb enough," you sighed.

Milton slowly approached the area and parked the van. As soon as it stopped you jumped out to see if they were still there. Turns out you didn't have to wait long; the back door unlocked to reveal your three teammates scuffed but otherwise unharmed.

You wouldn't admit it but you felt relieved.

"All right," Robert grunted. "Let's go to Jotunheim."

"Nope. There's somethin' we gotta take care of first."

"What?"

Rick sighed out, "As much as it pains me to say, we gotta get Harley Quinn."

"Harley who?"

"Quinn. She was on Team 1 with me. Now that I know where she is, we gotta go get her."

"Fuck no."

"Come on, man." They made their way back into the van after you. "She's a valuable asset."

"I said no."

"Don't make me get Waller into this."

Robert thought for a moment. "Fuck, fine, alright. We'll go get 'er."

Everyone eventually got seated. This time you actually sat in a seat since you weren't planning on taking an impromptu nap—although that did sound nice. Flag filled Milton out on the details and directed him on where to go as you all got cozy. Robert and Chris were going at it again, Cleo was asleep, Nanaue was trying to get you to sit in his lap, and Abner was watching in amusement.

"No."

"Yes."

"I said no."

"Pet pet?"

"No, Nanaue."

Nanaue put on his best pout, "Please?"

You should not have turned around to look at him. Sighing, you stood up and made your way over to him.

"Hahaha!" He sounded like a giddy kid in a candy store. He gently picked you up and placed you on his lap. Immediately he started petting you again and hummed. Your legs were cramped and you felt like you were about to fall off his lap. Without saying anything, you sprawled your legs across Abner's lap. He just looked at you with a smile before adjusting himself to accommodate you. Resting his arms over your legs, he continued looking out the window.

"How fascinating."

"Hmm?" You looked at Grieves.

"You don't happen to also control animal behavior, do you?"

"Why would I tell you that?"

"Fair."

You heard a loud sigh from Chris. "Is this going to become a regular occurance?"

"What, you jealous? I'm calling it now, if we have another night during this mission I'm using him as my cuddle buddy."

"Whatever."

Although you said you wouldn't, you were almost asleep before Robert made the call for everyone to gear up. While everyone was rushing to get their gear on, you just yawned and leaned over to handcuff Grieves to a seat before making yourself at home on Nanaue again. You weren't exactly trained to fight with weapons, although you did grab a nearby combat knife to carry.

"You gotta be kiddin' me. You're gonna risk the entire mission for a mental defective dressed as a court jester."

"This is coming from a guy that wears a toilet seat on his head."

"We don't leave our own behind," Rick reminded.

"You're okay with this?"

"No, but I've been around Flag when he's got a rag in his mouth. Best not to tug it."

"Motherfucker!"

Just as everyone seemed almost ready, you hopped off Nanaue and gently nudged Cleo.

"Come on, gotta wake up."

"All right, let's go."

Everyone—besides Grieves—exited the vehicle before Flag announced his plan.

"All right, we'll enter through the third floor, go to the inner staircase, and then down to the cellar where they usually keep their detainees. Hopefully, Harley's still alive."

Still butthurt about what Robert said, Chris stubbornly muttered, "It's not a toilet seat, it's a beacon of freedom!"

Everyone got into position; Peacemaker somehow scaled a building to get a vantage point, Abner was down the street looking for traffic, Rick and Robert were beside one of the walls ready to climb to the third floor, you turned into a bird (much to the amazement of your team) so you could quickly enter the window Robert would open, and Nanaue—who forgot you turned into a bird—stared at you.

"Ratatouille, what do you got?"

"Third floor hallway's clear. Abner?"

"There doesn't seem to be any incoming traffic."

"Bird."

"Nanaue, that's Mimic you meathead- and stay off the comm!"

"Colonel, I got a clean shot on the only one in the office. Just give the word."

"Fire on three, two..."

"What're you guys doing?"

Rick looked at Harley, then DuBois, then back to Harley. "I... you- we're here to save you."

"You were gonna... save me?" Harley visibly looked touched.

"It was a really good plan, too."

"Well I can go back inside and you can still do it."

"That's patronizing," Bloodsport commented.

You saw Harley drag a big stick thing over to Flag and hug him.

"Uh, what's with the javelin?"

"I'm waiting for God to tell me."

"Jesus Christ..."

"Yeah, or Him. Or any of them, really."

You and Nanaue watched as Harley and Bloodsport had an awkward introduction.

"Never mind everyone, Harley is secure."

"What?"

"Meet me in the van so we can leave as quickly as possible."

Sighing, you morphed back into your original form. Nanaue made an audible gasp as he saw you sitting on the railing.

"Pet pet?

"Yes, Nanaue, it's me, Pet pet."

King Shark laughed as he started petting you immediately. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you swatted his hand away and motioned for him to follow you.

#the suicide squad (2021) #suicidesquad #dcu fanfic #polka dot man #bloodsport #peacemaker #ratcatcher ii #ratcatcher 2 #harley quinn #rick flag #abner krill #abner krill x reader #polka dot man x reader #cleo cazo #robert dubois #christopher smith #starro #reader #reader insert #Can’t Sleep

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 2) - Baseball Caps & Stroller Naps

Summary: The reader gets into the swing of things around the Ackles household and starts having more one on one time with Jensen. He even offers to set her up with a friend of his. When he invites her to a family outing as a friend though, she gets another glimpse that he might not be as put together as he appears...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Square: Daddy!Jensen

Word Count: 5,900ish

Warnings: language, mention of death of a spouse/death of a parent

A/N: Things are starting to happen! This was also written for @supernatural-jackles​ Tell Me A Story Bingo!

________

“Good morning,” you said the next day as Jensen walked into the kitchen covered in sweaty workout clothes.

“Morning,” he said, going to the fridge to grab a drink. “Get the kids to school okay?”

“Yup,” you said, Jensen sniffing the air and humming as he walked over to where a loaf of banana bread was cooling in the rack. “Ah, it’s still too hot. Wait another half hour.”

“Fine,” he grumbled. “It smells amazing by the way. I don’t think anything’s been baked in this house in six months.”

“I’ve always enjoyed it,” you said, Jensen taking a seat on top of the counter. He chugged down the cold bottle of water, some of it dripping down the corners of his mouth. “Enjoy sleeping in today?”

“You don’t know the half of it. I feel amazing.”

“You look rested for the first time since I’ve met you,” you said. “You should sleep in on the weekends more too. The kids don’t need to be up at dawn.”

“No, they don’t,” he said. “I do love sleep too. You do okay with getting the three of them going on your own today?”

“Yeah. JJ’s old enough to get herself dressed and make her bed and do a few things on her own. The twins are a balancing act but the trick is to give yourself double the amount of time you think you need and you’ll never be late.”

“Not a bad tip,” he said as you finished wiping off a glass and picked up a pad and pen. “Whatcha working on?”

“Ideas for crafts and that sort of thing. You guys have a lot of supplies already so I was thinking of some ideas to do this week,” you said.

“You know...you can stick them in front of a TV too. They have their shows they like. We aren’t big on tracking screen time,” he said. “As long as they play and do some kind of creative thing everyday they can watch TV for a few hours in a row if they want. Our parents didn’t worry about that shit when we were kids, you know?”

“No, they didn’t do that,” you said. He lifted up the bottom of his muscle tank and wiped off his face, your eyes going straight down to the pad so you wouldn’t risk staring. “Any work scheduled for today?”

“I gotta wash up, head to the brewery for a few to check on things. I have some voice acting work I’m doing right now so I go to a place downtown and record that. That’ll be my afternoon. I can handle making dinner tonight. I should be back around four thirty, maybe a hair after,” he said. 

“Alright,” you said. “Anything you need at the store today?”

“Nah, we got plenty here,” he said. He wiped off his face with his shirt again, using his collar this time. You handed him a dish towel and he smiled, rubbing it over his neck and head. “Sorry. I’m dripping aren’t I.”

“A little. Do you work out a lot?” you asked. 

“No more than the average person. Try to do thirty minutes in the morning most days of the week. It’s sort of been my only alone time lately,” he said.

“Are you a runner?”

“God no. I’m not built for that. I like boxing and HIIT, weights, that sort of stuff. Part of my job is to look a certain way so if I’m gonna be the tough guy…”

“You gotta look like a tough guy?” you asked. He smiled and you looked him up and down. “Don’t get me wrong. You’re a strong guy, that’s pretty obvious. But you’re not a tough guy.”

“Oh I’m not?” he asked but there was a lightness to his voice.

“Tough guys tend to be assholes. You’re too nice for that,” you said. 

“I suppose you have a point,” he said, sliding off the counter. He stepped over to the banana bread and picked up the knife nearby, slicing off a piece for himself and popping it in his mouth. “Hot. Hot.”

“I told you so,” you said with a small laugh.

“Tastes delicious though,” he said with his mouth full. You shook your head as he ate another piece and turned to go upstairs.

“Jensen,” you said, pointing at the sweaty dish towel. 

“Ugh, yes mom,” he said, swiping it away with a smile. 

“Thank you,” you said, tapping on your notepad. You felt his presence beside you, not to mention the smell, and turned your head up, Jensen smiling back. “Yes?”

“Aren’t you due for a break?” he asked.

“You don’t really get how this nanny thing works yet, do you.”

“Yeah well...I’m not a shitty boss so I guess you’ll have to get used to that too. Take a break Y/N. Have some coffee on the balcony. It’s a sunny January day. Enjoy it,” he said. You rolled your eyes and he pointed at the back door before he headed upstairs. You bit your bottom lip and glanced at the clock. You had been going for over three hours non-stop and one of those had been spent trying to convince a four year old he had to wear pants to daycare.

You turned to leave the kitchen when you heard a tsk. You jumped and slipped on the rug in front of the sink, falling backwards straight down to the hardwood floor.

“Sorry! Sorry!” he said as he rushed over. “I’m always tripping over that thing.”

“I’m fine,” you said as you sat up with his help. Your ass hurt but you knew you’d be alright. “Maybe we move the rug from the very trippable area?”

He swallowed and stared at you for a long moment before you smiled.

“How about we put it outside your office?” you asked softly. He nodded and you picked up one end of the long strip of fabric. He went to the other end and picked it up, backing up as you walked it over to the other side of the house. You laid it out in front of his closed door, smiling as you straightened it up. “There we go. Safe and sound.”

You headed back to the kitchen, Jensen lingering behind you.

“I was...gonna say you can make...you can use my coffee machine,” he said quietly. 

“Okay,” you said quietly. “Jensen.”

“Hm?”

“Stuff is stuff. This isn’t a museum. It’s a home. It’s gonna change over time.”

“I know. It’s just that rug...it is so damn ugly and I hate it,” he said with a smile. “I wanted to get rid of it the day she brought it home.”

“Wives have a way of getting the last word in,” you said. He chuckled and you got out a mug for yourself. “Tell me to shove it if this is too personal but are you sure you want to get back out into the dating world? It’s rough out there.”

“It is. Until it isn’t,” he said.

“You’re a hopeless romantic, aren’t you.”

“Guilty as charged.” He rubbed the back of his neck and his cheeks flushed for a brief moment.

“Women like hopeless romantics,” you said. “Just don’t get taken advantage of for that. There’s some not so nice women out there too.”

“Afraid I’ll fall for some ditz?” he asked.

“No, I don’t think you’d do that. But someone might hurt you and you’ve been through enough. Maybe just...don’t fall in love at first sight or something like that,” you said. “Alright?”

“Never was much good at that,” he said to himself while you grabbed your coffee mug. “You believe in that sort of thing?”

“I’d like to. But you’re more of the expert on falling in love than I am,” you said.

“Maybe it’s not first sight but within a few days, a week, yeah I knew I was in love,” he said.

“Well if that happens again let me know and I’ll make sure this chick is good for you,” you said.

“I didn’t know my nanny came with bodyguard services,” he chuckled.

“That was under special skills on my resume,” you said as you headed over to the door to the balcony. “You should wash up. Don’t want to be late.”

“No I better not be,” he said. He turned to head upstairs, pausing on the first step. “You know, no one’s an expert at falling in love. Even those of us who were once married.”

“Oh don’t be a hopeless romantic for me getting my shit together too. We’ll be here for years,” you laughed. 

“Just sayin’...maybe we’ll both find somebody. Not that we need anyone to be happy but...you know what I mean,” he said. 

“Men don’t really talk about love like that you know.”

“I do,” he said. You smiled and he returned it. 

“That’s why all the good men get taken early, the ones that talk like that,” you said.

“I was older than you when I got married. Maybe I’ll get married again someday. We’re out there. I promise.”

“Go shower,” you said, waving him off. You slipped outside, closing the door behind you. You leaned over the railing with your mug and let out a sigh. “You have to a be a fucking hopeless romantic too don’t you. Fucking perfect at everything.”

You lowered your head and took a deep breath. 

“It’s a crush, it’s a crush,” you said, closing your eyes. “Just a crush. He’s your boss and a widow and he bought a birthday cake for me.”

You opened your eyes and glanced into the mug, taking another deep breath.

“He’s just nice. That’s it. Even if he’s…” you trailed off. You took a long sip of the hot liquid, not caring you were burning your tongue. Jensen was simply a nice person and that was that. You had a crush on the attractive single dad you were nannying for. There was nothing wrong with that and you knew for a fact it’d be gone by the end of the week tops.

“Ow,” you groaned a few days later. You opened your eyes and heard a knock at the door to your suite. “Yeah?”

“You okay in there? I thought I heard a crash,” said Jensen. 

“I’m fine,” you said, sitting up with a grunt, leaning back against your bed. “Shit.”

“Y/N, are you sure you’re alright?” he asked again.

“No,” you said with a sigh. “The door’s open.”

You peaked through your open door down the hall, Jensen opening the one to the suite and offering a friendly smile. You nodded and he walked inside, frowning at your cut up knee. 

“I got blood on the rug,” you said. “Do we have bleach?”

“I thought we agreed earlier this week a rug is just a rug,” he said, squatting down and looking at your knee. He looked up and saw your overturned garbage can in your closet where you’d been trying to reorganize a few clothes. “Next time use the step stool in the garage?”

“Yeah,” you said, your face hot. “I’m fine really. Just want to clean up the blood before it sets in.”

“It’s a few drops,” he said, helping you stand with a wince. “You got any first aid stuff?”

“Yeah,” you said, Jensen crossing his arms. “No.”

“Come on,” he said, putting his hands on your shoulders and walking you down the hall. “Scraped up knees are my specialty.”

“Jensen,” you said, stopping at the kitchenette island and bending your leg a few times. 

“I’ll be right back,” he said. He left and you hopped over to the couch, stretching your leg out. The bleeding had stopped, just a thin cut on your knee cap where you’d hit it, but you knew you were in for a nasty bruise. He returned with a bottle and cotton ball in one hand, a bandage and ice pack in the other. 

“Sorry,” you said, Jensen setting the items down on the coffee table.

“Why would you apologize for getting hurt?” he said.

“I should have my own first aid supplies,” you said. 

“Ah. So you’re as stubborn as I am when you’re not feeling great,” he said. You looked down at your lap and took a deep breath.

“Am I fired?” you asked. 

“No? Why the fuck would I fire you?” he said. 

“I don’t know,” you said, picking up the bottle of rubbing alcohol.

“Have you been fired for getting hurt before?” he asked, watching you hold the cotton ball against the open bottle top and tip it over, soaking the liquid in. You pretended to not hear him and put the bottle back, wiping the ball over the cut, a deep red mark already on your skin. “Y/N.”

“Yes, I have,” you said. You set the ball on the table and picked up the bandage, trying to angle it over your knee. He rolled his eyes and took it out of your hand, bending down and turning it around, pressing it gently over your skin. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s illegal,” he said as he looked up at you.

“Do I look like I have an HR department I can go to? They were dicks anyways,” you said.

“If you’re ever hurt, big or small, just tell me,” he said. He rested the ice pack over your knee and you sat back, throwing it up on the couch for you to lay there. “Promise I won’t fire you for it.”

“Well if I can’t do my job I’m not much use to you,” you said.

“Are all wealthy people assholes that act like that?” he asked. You shook your head and smiled. “Good.”

“I’ve nannied for eight different families, nine counting yours. Some were very good people,” you said.

“But you were just the help to them, even the good ones,” he said.

“I am the help. That’s the whole point of me being there,” you said. 

“Do me a favor? Don’t assume just because you’re someone’s employee that they think of you as just the help,” he said, picking up the first aid supplies.

“Sorry.”

“Why do you apologize for…” he said, muttering to himself as you looked down. “If I ever make you feel like that, smack me in the head, alright?”

“Alright,” you said quietly. He nodded and left with the items, returning a moment later with some cleaning spray, ducking into your room for only a moment before exiting.

“It’s all clean,” he said. He lingered at the door and put a hand on it. “Leave that ice pack on for fifteen minutes and pop it back in the freezer. Put it back on for a bit before bed.”

“Thanks,” you said. 

“It’s no problem,” he said. He still lingered and you took a deep breath.

“You should call someone, talk to them,” you said. He looked over his shoulder and you smiled. “You seem like you want to talk to somebody tonight is all.”

“I think I’m gonna go for a drive, maybe stop at a friend’s. The kids are all in bed,” he said. “If that’s cool.”

“Yeah go take a second for yourself,” you said. “I got everything here.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night, Jensen.”

One Week Later

“Y/N,” said Jensen as you washed your car in the driveway on a Saturday morning. You dropped the soapy sponge in the bucket and straightened yourself out. “Got plans today?”

“Uh, I was gonna run to the grocery store in a minute but other than that, no. Need me to watch the kids?”

“No. We were going out to lunch and then going to a little car show was all and we were wondering if you’d like to join us. Totally up to you. My treat.”

“You don’t want me to watch the kids?” you asked. He laughed and crossed his arms at you. “I’m confused.”

“Do you want to hang out with us today? For fun?” he asked.

“Oh,” you said. “That’s okay. You enjoy your time with the kids.”

“How do I make this clearer,” he said, walking over to you and looking down. “I want you to come with us, as a friend, to do something fun, like friends do. This is not work. Come if you want to.”

“You sure you want me to come?” you asked. He rolled his eyes and plopped his baseball cap on your head as he walked away.

“Yes. And wear sunscreen,” he said. “We’re leaving at eleven thirty.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll see you guys then.”

“There’s something about a burger that’s been cooked in a greasy pop up kitchen that just adds to the flavor,” you said as you took a bite of your cheese burger at the car show.

“It’s probably the grease,” he said, walking one hand on his burger, the other holding Arrow’s hand. She wiped her own little hand on his leg and he sighed as he looked down. “Arrow. I got napkins in my pocket.”

“Oh,” she said, wiping her face against him.

“No one mentions this part,” he chuckled. He picked her up and threw her over his shoulders once he was done with his food, humming as he pushed the stroller with a sleeping Zeppelin inside. 

“Dad, I gotta go to the bathroom,” said JJ. 

“I’ll take her and we can catch up with you guys?” you said. He mouthed a thank you to you as you headed over to the women’s room. You used the bathroom as well, finishing before her and waiting outside for her. “All set?”

“Yeah. Can we get fried dough?” she asked.

“Sure,” you said. You let her lead the way in line and got a plate for the two of you, taking a seat at a picnic table so she could dig in. “Taste yummy?”

“Oh yeah,” she said. “Dad likes fried dough a lot too.”

“Everybody does,” you said, taking a piece off the corner.

“Y/N, you don’t have a mom either right?” she said. “That’s what dad said.”

“Well that’s a funny question. I got a mom and so do you. They just aren’t around anymore is all,” you said. “What’s up?”

“I’m happy you stay with us I guess is all. I know you’re not mom and you work for dad but you kinda are and I like it when dad’s happy again,” she said.

“Me too. You doing okay, kiddo?” you asked. “It’s okay if you still miss your mom.”

“I do but I’m not sad anymore. Dad says when I get real old I can see her again so that’s cool,” she said, taking a big bite.

“It definitely is cool,” you said. “Maybe our mom’s are hanging out right now.”

“You think so?” she asked.

“Maybe. I bet they get up to some fun stuff up there,” you said. 

“Me too,” she said. “Dad’s really happy you came with us. He’s been cranky lately.”

“Your dad’s gonna be just fine,” you said as she finished off her food. “So do you like having a nanny? I know that’s kinda new and funny, huh.”

“Yeah but I really like you being home. Dad gets flustered sometimes.”

“Flustered?” you asked with a little laugh.

“He works on a lot of stuff and he didn’t pick me up on time from school and stuff a few weeks ago. Too many chickens in a basket,” she said.

“Too many eggs in one basket,” you said.

“Isn’t an egg gonna be a chicken though?”

“I...never thought of it that way,” you said. You nearly jumped when you felt some hands on your shoulders but JJ was smiling as Arrow climbed up next to you.

“Ah. I see you ladies found the fried dough. Twins you want some?” asked Jensen.

“Yes please,” they said and he chuckled as he went off to buy some more.

“Look at her,” said Jensen twenty minutes later, pausing at a deep blue Impala, the twins both conked out in their stroller. 

“Isn’t that the same car you have?” you asked, lifting up the brim of your baseball cap to get a better look.

“Mine’s a 67. That’s a 63. I love that color though,” he said. “Blue’s my favorite but it looks good on that car.”

“I think it looks good in black,” you said, walking again when you saw JJ a few cars ahead of the two of you. “Where’d you get your car?”

“Work,” he said with a quick smile, hiding behind his sunglasses and hat. 

“Aren’t you an actor?” you asked.

“You have very obviously never seen an episode of my show,” he chuckled. “Which is totally cool by the way. I drove that car in the show for well over a decade. She’s one of my true loves.”

“Ah, gotcha,” you said. “So you’re a car guy.”

“Kinda. I don’t know everything but I enjoy them. What about you, you like-JJ! Stay closer,” he called out when she kept walking ahead. “So do you like cars?”

“I guess so. This is kinda neat, walking around and looking at the old ones. They had more style back then,” you said, walking past a pair of guys your age, one of them looking you up and down as you went by. “Did that guy-”

“Yup,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder, throwing his arm over yours for a few moments. “Looks like he got the message.”

“Jensen,” you laughed. “I wasn’t offended. It’s not like he was gonna come up and ask for my number.”

“I don’t like the look of him,” he said.

“Neither did I,” you chuckled, Jensen dropping his arm from around you. “You’re that guy friend girls have that will do shit like pretend to be a boyfriend and all that stuff, aren’t you.”

“At your service,” he said with a mini curtesy. You giggled and he straightened up, JJ rushing over.

“Dad can I get an ice cream?” she asked.

“How about some apple slices,” he said, reaching under the stroller and grabbing a cooler. He pulled out a little baggie and handed it to her, JJ shrugging and walking ahead of the stroller again. “Shit, that probably means I can’t get ice cream now too.”

“We can always get some on the way home for later,” you said. “I won’t tell on you.”

“I’m putting this on your performance review,” he said. You shot him a side glance and he smirked. “I’m joking. I don’t want to do that as much as you don’t.”

“Thank you for that,” you said, stopping and looking at a red challenger for a moment.

“You like that one?” he asked.

“It’s nice,” you said before you started walking again. You fixed your hat and caught back up with him, Jensen slowing down as JJ took her time ahead of you. “So I should probably know this but what show were you in where you were driving around a muscle car?”

“You really haven’t looked me up online yet?” he chuckled. You shrugged and he laughed to himself.

“I may have peeked at your IMDB page but that was it. Was it that show you were on a long time? Super something?”

“Supernatural,” he said, a big smile on his face. “Yeah, I drove it for that.”

“Oh yeah, that was the really scary show, wasn’t it,” you said. 

“You’re too sweet,” he said, chuckling to himself. “It’s not that scary. I promise. Give it a try sometime. You might like it.”

“I’m sure someday I will. If I’m brave enough.”

“I think you are,” he said, JJ running up ahead again before he called for her to hang back. He sighed and threw his head back. “It never ends, does it?”

“I’m sure someday when she’s older you won’t have to worry so much.”

“I’m gonna worry about that kid when she’s forty years old,” he said.

“That’s cause you’re a good dad,” you said. 

“You haven’t known me that long,” he said.

“Do you love her? Worry about her?” you asked and he nodded. “Well any dad that does that and tells his kid that someday they’ll get to see their mom again to help her grieve when he well and truly doesn’t know the answer to that...you get the picture Ackles?”

“I could be better,” he said.

“Everyone could be better. They don’t need the best dad ever. They just need the best dad for them and you seem like you’re doing a good job of that from what I’ve seen so far,” you said. “You’re gonna screw up but so does everyone. Try to just enjoy it and not be too hard on yourself.”

“You’ve spent a lot of time with kids haven’t you,” he said.

“I’ve been in the mom role more than once as a nanny,” you said. You kicked at the dirt and shrugged. “It’s how I know the difference Jensen. You don’t need me or want me to be their mother. You just need help sometimes. That’s an important difference. Asking for help, especially when you don’t want it but need it, that’s a good dad move.”

He was quiet as he walked, stopping at a yellow mustang. He stared for a moment and swallowed. 

“Thanks, Y/N. That means a lot. Really.”

“Come on dad,” you said, walking away and up towards where JJ was. “Let’s go see if we can find one this one’s gonna be asking for on her sixteenth birthday.”

“Those three are finally down and out for the count,” said Jensen as he walked downstairs to catch you in the kitchen wiping up the pan from dinner. “Thanks for eating with us tonight.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” you said, putting the pan away. He looked out the back window and bit his bottom lip. “Everything alright?”

“You’re not like, hanging out with us cause you think you have to right?” he asked.

“Trust me. If I didn’t want to, I’d be down in my room,” you said. “Besides, I’ve thought about it and you know what, why don’t you set me up with that friend of yours.”

“Really?” he asked, a little alarmed.

“Why not? The age thing doesn’t bother me at all. Unless you think it’d be a problem for him?”

“No, he doesn’t really care about that sort of thing. I think he’d prefer it’s just someone he clicked with, had a connection, you know?” he said.

“Perfect. Why don’t you set us up for next Saturday night then?” you asked.

“I need you to watch the kids next Saturday night. I have-”

“The gala. Sorry, I forgot. Um, just, I’m free whenever. You know my schedule so you can set something up and just let me know?” you said. He smiled and nodded. As you were starting to leave he grunted. “Yeah?”

“I have some friends coming over for a drink in a bit. Small backyard fire. Whiskey and smores. You’re welcome to join.”

“Jensen. You’re not asking because you feel like you have to right?”

“No, not at all. I like hanging out with you. I’m sure whatever you’re binging on TV will be there if we bore you too much,” he said.

“Alright. I’ll be out in half an hour or so. Just wanted to freshen up from the show earlier,” you said. You ducked back to your room, taking a quick shower and changing into some leggings and a flannel. By the time you were out you could hear a slight mumbling and walked downstairs, catching Jensen with some guys on the patio pouring some drinks.

“Hey,” said Jensen when you stepped out of the slider door. “Guys this is Y/N.”

“Ah we get to meet the world’s best nanny,” said the tallest one. “I’m Jared.”

“Rich.”

“Rob.”

“Hi!” said a redhead that slipped out of the door behind you. “I’m Ruth.”

“Y/N. Your hair is kinda amazing by the way,” you said.

“This is what happens when you invite the girls,” said Rich.

“Normally we just talk about Jared’s hair,” chuckled Jensen. You grabbed a chair and helped gather up some snacks to bring over to his firepit, Ruth hanging back to help you.

“Jensen said you live here with him and the munchkins?”

“Yeah. He works so much it makes things easier on him. Are you an actress?” you asked.

“We all are. Only Jared lives close by. The rest of us haven’t been down here since…” she said and you nodded. “I really am happy you’re here. It’s nice to see a smile on our boys face again.”

“He’s a great boss. He’s very kind. We’re becoming friends,” you said. “He’s trying to set me up with his friend actually.”

“Oh which one?”

“Dunno. He just said he’s 42, an actor and is single. Age stuff doesn’t bother me.”

“Rob is a bit older than myself. It really doesn’t matter in the slightest, especially when you’re a little older,” she said. “Jensen says you’re great with the kids.”

“They’re pretty easy going. Normally the parents are the hard part of my job but he’s been great. He really loves his kids,” you said.

“Yes he certainly does,” she said.

By the end of the night you found yourself really enjoying Jensen’s friends. It was clear they cared for him at more than a surface level, especially Jared. You’d heard Jensen speak to him on the phone a few times and call him his brother but it really was apparent they had a special bond that went beyond a typical friendship.

“I’ll catch you guys for brunch before you head home,” said Jensen, waving night to them all as you helped pick up. You were just about finished and heading back for your room when Jensen caught you in the kitchen. “You have fun tonight?”

“Yeah. Your friends are great,” you said, a small pair of footsteps coming down the stairs. You both turned and saw Zeppelin there with tears in his eyes.

“What’s wrong, honey?” asked Jensen as he walked over and squatted down.

“I had a bad dream and I want mommy but she’s gone,” he whined. Jensen instantly scooped him up and held onto him tight, kissing his head. “I want mommy.”

“I want mommy too, baby,” said Jensen quietly. You mouthed go and he nodded, taking Zeppelin upstairs while you finished cleaning up. 

You got up early the next morning and made a big batch of chocolate chip pancakes, plenty leftover for breakfast the next morning. Jensen padded over from the hall where you knew the home gym was, sweaty and tired but a smile came onto his face when he saw you.

“What’s all this,” he asked, getting a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Chocolate chip pancakes make everything better,” you said. He put a few on a plate for himself and sat down at the counter as you made up some more, stealing a few for yourself.

“These are delicious,” he said. You stored away some for when the kids got up, making up your own plate before you dug in. “Sorry about last night. I feel like I ruined the fun.”

“Not at all. He’s a toddler. I literally can’t imagine being in your position. I’d have fallen apart instantly,” you said.

“No you wouldn’t. You care about those kids,” he said. “You push on for them.”

“I know it’s not really my place to say so but-”

“Y/N. I’d prefer if you just talk to me like a friend, really,” he said.

“You made it sound like you were ready to try dating again. Last night you seemed kind of...maybe not so ready.”

“I’m ready. I will always miss her. I’ll always love her. But that doesn’t mean I can’t love anyone else ever again like that too, you know? I don’t believe there is a limit on how much love a person can give,” he said.

“Your wife was a very lucky woman,” you said.

“I was lucky. She was patient with me,” he chuckled. “You guys would have gotten along really well.”

“Can I offer a bit of advice?” you asked.

“What’s that?”

“Keep telling your kids about her, all throughout their lives. They’ll still get to know her that way, you know?” you said. “Tell your future girlfriend too. That’s how you’ll know if they’re a good one for you.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked.

“You’re a kind soul. I would expect your partner would be as well,” you said.

“I hope so. Mine kinda has a permanent handle with care warning label on it,” he chuckled.

“I don’t think so. Just need somebody that understands, not try to fix you. There’s nothing wrong with you in the first place,” you said, taking a bite of your pancake.

“Thanks, kiddo,” he said.

“You’re not that much older, bucko,” you chuckled.

“Nah, I’m keeping kiddo,” he laughed. “You good to watch the kids for a few hours around eleven?”

“Sounds good. Go have a mimosa with your friends for me,” you said.

“Will do, Y/N. Will do.”

______

A/N: Read Part 3 here!

#spn #supernatural #jensen x reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles au #rpf #jensen series #rpf series #jensen ackles x reader #spn fanfic #jensen fanfic #jensen ackles fanfic #supernatural fanfic

[clumsy-jiminie]

ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ᴄᴏᴅᴇꜱ | ᴊᴊᴋ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱɪx

◦ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ :: mafia!jungkook x mafia!female reader

◦ ʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ :: 18+

◦ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ :: mature content, angst, smut, mafia!au

◦ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ :: 5.2k

◦ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ::  violence ( choking ), mature language, flirty jungkook, low-key toxic jungkook ???

◦ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ :: this chapter ended up being longer than I expected oopsies, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway! and if you have any comments or questions, please share them! I love hearing your opinions. 💖

↠ ɴᴇxᴛ :: ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ :: ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪɴᴅᴇx ↞

You’ve been sitting in the room for what seemed like hours. You couldn’t get comfortable to nap, due to your arm being pinned in such a weird position. You attempted to pass the time in various ways; whether that be stretching yourself as far as you could to see if your toes could reach the bottom of the bed frame or a self-taught lesson in whistling.

Turns out that holding the proper tune takes a lot of breath support.

At this point, being bored was an understatement.

You wiggled yourself to sit upright, a groan leaving your lips as you attempted to use your right arm. It was definitely dead, pins and needles dancing along the surface of your epidermis just by the small movement. The assholes that left you in this cruel position did not care one bit.

An idea popped into your head. You weren’t sure if it would work, but at this point, you would do anything for some sort of entertainment. So, you took a deep breath before screaming at the top of your lungs. After about seven seconds, you stopped and waited to see if there would be a response.

Nothing.

You proceeded to scream again. In fact, you screamed two more times after that. You were going to continue until that damn door swung open with whoever.

And that it did.

You turned your head eagerly towards the sound to be met with Blondie’s not-so-happy face. He glared at you, cleared annoyed by your antics as he walked in. Jeongguk, the bruised man, and one other man followed after him.

You examined the new guy curiously, he has blonde hair sticking out against his tanned skin. He was noticeably taller than the three before him, eyes easily peering into yours without having to tilt his head. He stood away from them, against the wall as the other three stood in front of you.

You directed your gaze to the three musketeers with a wide smile. “Hiya!” You said excitedly. You were happy for some form of attention.

They didn’t look amused at all.

“Do you have a problem?” Blondie asked as his arms folded over his chest.

“I actually do!” You wiggled your restricted hand. The slight movement sent tingles to your shoulder. “My poor arm here is dead and it would be just great if you unlocked me, yeah?” You flashed an innocent smile.

Blondie glanced back at the man against the wall before returning his gaze to you. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver key.

“If I unlock you, you can’t try anything. There’s four of us here, and we have no problem kicking your ass again.”

Your eyes narrowed a little. You almost wanted to put his words to the test. Considering last time they decided to put their hands on you, you were tied up with no way to defend yourself. Being unbound finally gave you a fair chance.

Until you remembered the bandages around your midriff and arm. Maybe fighting wasn’t the best option for you now.

You nodded your head. “Alright, I’ll be on my best behavior.” You said in an innocent, borderline mocking, tone.

He propped his knee onto the space next to you, leaning over your frame to reach the handcuff. He grabbed the metal object that bound you to the bed and began to fiddle with it.

You couldn’t help but look at him, admiring his profile. Your eyes began to wander down to his lips. They would probably feel like clouds against your skin with how plush they were. Their rosiness tempted you, begging for similar colored lips to be pressed against them.

Your eyes continued their journey down to his neck, which looked like the perfect canvas for a series of love marks. You inhaled deeply as you waited, the smell of his semi-sweet cologne filled your nostrils, intoxicating you and aiding your impure thoughts.

What the hell were you doing? You needed to stop fantasizing about a man who physically put his hands on you.

He stopped fiddling around with the handcuff and pulled back, returning to his standing position with the other two men. Your arm dropped, letting out a soft moan as your left hand grabbed your right shoulder. You attempted to roll your arm, hopefully stretching out the muscles. The noises that left your mouth were anything but innocent, but you didn’t care. It felt nice to regain some feeling in your arm.

You swung your legs over the edge of the bed, letting your feet dangle a little as you looked up at the men. They were staring down at you, two with reddened cheeks, and one with a smirk playing on his lips. You raised an eyebrow slightly.

“So, are you going to just stare at me or are you going to say something?”

The bruised man balled up his hand into a fist and took a step towards you. He was so easily triggered that it was quite entertaining to you. Blondie held out his arm against the bruised man to stop him from getting any closer.

“We decided to take a different approach to this,” Blondie stated as he returned his hands to his pockets. “We’re not getting anywhere by doing things the way we’re used to.”

“And we have other shit to do besides babysit you all day.” The bruised man growled.

“So again,” Jeongguk started as he shamelessly glanced over your frame. “Just tell us where the safe is and the combination for it.”

“I don’t know anything about a safe.” You lied, shrugging your shoulders. as your body started to relax.

Blondie scoffed. “Bullshit, everyone knows about the precious safe your father has.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Then you would also know that my father didn't give a shit about me unless it was for the limelight.” You retorted.

Your sorry excuse of a father only acknowledged your existence when he needed to get back in the public’s good graces. Of course, everyone loved the beautiful, intelligent, and well-mannered daughter of the country’s biggest crime boss. They loved you as much as your father despised you. You were a prop to him and only that. You couldn’t prove yourself worthy of the company, so you needed to be worthy of at least something.

The men exchanged some glances between each other before returning their attention to you.

“So now what? You’re gonna let me go because I’m basically useless, right?”

“No,” Jungkook answered simply. “If you don’t know about the safe, your father does.”

“We already have a ransom out for you.” The bruised man smirked.

You looked at the three men in front of you, smug looks across their faces. Your eyebrow arched slightly in disbelief. You couldn’t even attempt to hold back the laughter that echoed in the silent room. You raised your right hand to cover your mouth as you shook your head.

You suddenly felt a hand clasped around your throat. Your laughter ceased as your airflow was cut off, but the smile never left your lips. You looked directly at the bruised man whose eyes were filled with anger. The sight of seeing you happy got his blood boiling.

“You laugh a little too much for my liking.” He said as his grip tightened. Your chest started to burn as your body begged for oxygen. Your hands involuntarily grabbed onto his wrist, squeezing it tightly. Tears brimmed your eyes as you tried to get him to loosen his grip.

“Taehyung, stop!” Jungkook yelled before finally intervening. He grabbed Taehyung’s arm tightly, causing his grip to drop before pushing the man away from you. You coughed viciously as air entered your lungs once again. You tried to steady your breathing.

“We just said we were taking a different approach to this,” Blondie said sternly as he glared at the man. Jungkook stood in front of Taehyung, arms crossed as he blocked your view of him.

“Yeah but she’s over here mocking and laughing at us with that stupid look on her face!” Taehyung yelled, motioning his hand towards you.

“Damn Taehyung, you got something against someone’s happiness?” You said softly as you rubbed your neck. You could still feel his pressure against your esophagus like there was an imprint left there.

He took a step towards you, but couldn’t get past the stone-face Jungkook. His glare froze Taehyung, silently warning him to get it together.

“Tae, get out,” a deep voice, deeper than Taehyung’s, suddenly said. You glanced around until you saw the fourth man who entered walk into view. He stood in between blondie and Jungkook, really showing how tall he was compared to the pouty blonde.

“What?!” Taehyung exclaimed. “But I didn’t—”

“Taehyung, get the fuck out.” This time he was more stern. His voice sent a shiver of fear down your spine.

Taehyung let out a groan of frustration before making his way to the door. He slammed it after he exited the room. The tall man took a deep sigh before his eyes finally met yours. He stuck his hands into the pockets of his tailored black slacks.

You knew his type like the back of your hand. Strong and silent, only speaking up when need be because he trained his comrades so well. And if he was to speak? Run for the hills because you obviously did something wrong, and he doesn’t give out warnings.

“Let’s make this simple enough for you to understand.” He started. You screwed up your face at his dig at your intelligence. “The ransom we have for you is up, and in 12 hours I expect your father to be here willing to give up the information for the safe in return for your life.”

You scoffed, the simple sound caused his stare to harden. You refused to let this man intimidate you. Even though from the looks of it, his biceps could crack your neck with one squeeze. The buttons on his shirt look like they were fighting for their life just to keep the fabric over his chest. Nonetheless, you couldn’t let that phase you. Or steer your thoughts into a dirtier realm.

“You guys really don’t have any idea what’s going on, and it’s quite hilarious.”

He arched his brow while Jeongguk and Blondie exchanged looks.

“But you know, tell me how that ransom goes. How long has it been out now? A couple of hours?” You raised your hand to casually glance at your nails.

Out the corner of your eye, the frustration in blondie’s face began to build up. His patience was thin ice, and you were tap dancing right on top of it.

“You talk so much shit for someone in this kind of predicament. Maybe we should just kill her and go after the man himself.” Blondie looked over at the tall man, awaiting approval of his half-baked plan.

“Psh,” all eyes were on you once again. “You go ahead and do that, then you’ll really get nowhere.”

The ice finally broke. Blondie suddenly took a step towards you, his hand already balled up into a fist. But the tall man’s arm came out and stopped him, his hand resting on Blondie’s chest.

The man glanced at Jungkook for only a second. It seems they had a telepathic conversation because Jeongguk nodded his head before taking steps towards you. His dark eyes peered into yours as your heart started to race again.

What was it about that look of his that made you so nervous?

He continued to gaze into your eyes, causing excitement to swirl in your lower abdomen. Your body was already prepping itself for some well-needed attention though this situation did not call for it at all. You inhaled deeply through your nose, trying to keep yourself together for as long as possible.

“She’s not telling us something.”

Blondie huffed, rolling his eyes. “No shit. I could’ve easily told you that!”

“No…” Jeongguk said softly as he got even closer to you. He got down to your level, his face right in front of yours. Mere inches away from having his lips pressed against you. You looked at him for as long as you could, but the longer your eyes peered into his, the smaller you began to feel.

Your mind reminded you of how he stared into your eyes while he was in between your legs. The eye contact you guys shared was no longer regular, but sacred. It will forever give you flashbacks to that night. It made you shy, eventually breaking your gaze to look down at the cheap sheets on the bed. His energy was completely dominating, melting the inner brat inside of you to a small sub.

“Where’s your father?

“Vacation.” You answered quickly.

“Where?”

You paused, trying to think of a far enough location that they wouldn’t suspect a thing.

“Y/N,” he said in a sing-song tone. It irked your soul because you knew he was getting to you. “Come on, you’re gonna protect dear ol’ daddy now?”

Protect your father? Out of all people? You would protect a stranger on the street before ever protecting him.

“That’s adorable.” He continued. “Didn’t you just say he didn’t give a shit about you? I guess you really must love him.”

Your blood started to boil. How the hell did he know what buttons to press? You gripped on tightly to the sheets you were fiddling with.

“You can’t protect someone that’s dead.” You quipped.

Your mouth moved on its own, disobeying your mind. Once you realized the words that left your lips, you shut your eyes tightly as you cursed to yourself.

The tall man’s eyebrow arched while a slow smirk danced on his lips. You didn’t know how you just shifted the game into his favor.

You opened your eyes, seeing Jeongguk stand up slowly. A proud smirk similar to the tall’s man was on his face. “We should take the ransom down. The only person who can provide us with any answers is right here.”

“I already told you, I don’t know shit about a safe!” You persisted, hoping if you continued to lie that they would eventually buy it.

“And for some odd reason, I don’t believe you.”

“So what do we do now?” Blondie spoke up, glancing at the two men. “Play babysitter until she randomly spills?”

Jeongguk’s gaze returned to you, eyes glossing over your frame. “She has obvious skills, we saw that in Kim Casino.” He chewed on his lower lip for a moment as he thought.

“Wouldn’t you think having someone like her around would make Bangtan a little more… untouchable?” He glanced back at the tall man who had his lips pursed in thought.

“What are you saying?” Blondie asked.

“I hope it’s not what I think it is.” You asked as your eyes glanced between the men.

“He’s suggesting she work for us.” The tall man said, entertaining the idea.

“What?!” You exclaimed. You didn’t even want to work for your father, and now you’re being recruited by some strangers.

Blondie’s head tilted to the side as he looked at you. Eyes roamed over your body. You were still in your dress from the previous night. Dresses like this were normal for you, but suddenly you felt overexposed. Jeongguk eyed the blonde as if he was making sure he wasn’t looking too hard.

“…That could work. She is extremely attractive.” Blondie’s eyes met with yours. “Could make use for some great distractions.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” You said. You looked at their serious faces. “Don’t you guys have a whole fucking gang?! Why the hell would you need me?!”

“Like he said,” the tall man answered simply. “A distraction.”

You blinked at him in disbelief. You weren’t trained to be a distraction or bait, you were trained to kill.

You opened your mouth to protest further but were quickly cut off by Blondie’s voice. “Since you’ll be working for us, my name is Jimin.”

“You don’t need to know my name, just refer to me as boss.” The tall man said.

You glared at him. His attitude sucked, and if you were gonna be stuck here the least you could know is his name.

“And I think you already know my name, sweetheart,” Jeongguk smirked. Your raged gaze traveled to him and his smug little smirking face. You wanted to hit him so badly. Who does he think he is saying shit to you like that? Looking at you like that… Like he wanted an in-detail recap of what happened a month ago.

“You’ll be receiving two meals a day,” Boss said, pulling you out of your thoughts. “You’re not allowed to leave this room unless escorted by someone.” He briefly glanced over your appearance. “And we’ll get you some other clothes to cover up.”

He turned to walk towards the door with Jimin following behind him.

“Welcome to the team,” Jimin said sarcastically before leaving with Boss.

Your gaze returned to Jeongguk as you stared at each other.

“It took you this long to figure it out?” He said with a smirk still etched on his lips.

Your eyes narrowed, rolling them afterward. He was right, you should’ve recognized him back in the room where his buddies beat you up.

“Shut up. I was drunk. You’re lucky I even remembered your face.”

“But you definitely remembered my cock, didn’t you baby?” He bragged. His overly confident, know it all tone made you want to punch him in the face. But the excitement in your body only grew. How could you be attracted to this arrogant prick?

You closed your eyes tightly, raising your hand to the bridge of your nose where you pinched it between your fingers.

“Shut up! I shouldn’t be thinking about this. You literally beat me up.” You tried to push all the dormant memories that were arising from that one word back in the box where they belonged.

“I didn’t touch you.”

“You also didn’t do shit!” You countered.

“I mean, you were saying some pretty disrespectful things to Taehyung.”

“I asked him how his fucked up nose was and that—”

“See? Exactly. It’s how that pretty little mouth forms words.” He crouched down until he was at eye level with you. His eyes glanced down at your lips briefly while he licked his own. “You should really work on that, baby girl.”

You could feel your clitoris literally throb, begging for some sort of attention. You took a deep breath through your nose, trying to calm yourself down.

“It’s going to be fun having you around again.” He reached up and cupped your cheek in his hand.

Your body was conflicted, wanting to lean into his simple touch but also wanting to pull away and keep your distance. You froze as his thumb grazed over your lower lip.

“Who knows,” his voice lowered to a whisper as his eyes danced between your mouth and eyes. It stung as his digit applied pressure to your plump lip, pulling the flesh down only a little to have your mouth open some.

“Maybe we could have some fun again…” You had half a thought to say fuck it and take his thumb in between your lips. You wanted to feel his skin against your tongue again, tasting the semi-saltiness of his epidermis.

He chuckled lowly, watching your reaction closely before his touch left your skin. You exhaled heavily as he stood up and began to walk back towards the door.

“If I knew you were such a smug asshole, I wouldn’t have fucked you.” You said suddenly, trying to mask your arousal.

His eyebrow arched as he chuckled again. “Yes, you would’ve.” He finally turned his back against you and continued his path to the door. Upon reaching it, he grabbed the handle only to glance back at you again. “You know I’m exactly your type.” He winked before exiting the room, closing the door behind him.

You sighed deeply, falling back onto your shit excuse for a bed.

Why was he right?

Two days have passed, considering the four meals you received. They were nothing special, just some ramen, a small piece of meat, and kimchi. Bare minimum honestly.

Boss kept true to his word, giving you a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants to replace your dress. The material swallowed you, hanging off of your frame heavily. The neckline of the shirt was so big on you, it continually fell off of your shoulder.

You just wished they gave you something to entertain yourself. A tv, an iPad, shit an iPod shuffle would even do at this point. You were constantly alone with your own thoughts, and whoever delivered your food wouldn’t even give you the time of day. You stared up at the ceiling, the material of your cotton shirt playing between your fingers.

You needed to get out of here.

All you needed was a bobby pin, maybe two. The lock on the handle looked simple enough. From your quick glances into the outside world whenever that door opened, there was a small hallway. It didn’t seem that the men in this house cared to keep you on 24-hour surveillance, so escaping should be rather easy.

You rolled off of your bed, walking up to your door and banging on it several times. Someone was bound to come, but you didn’t expect that someone to be Jeongguk.

When the door swung open, he glared down at you. His lips were pressed into a frown as he spoke.

“What?”

“I gotta pee.” You said innocently, almost childlike.

Your fingertips held onto the hem of the shirt that hung off your body. You didn’t bother wearing the pants, considering they would’ve fallen off of you anyway. Plus, the shirt was long enough to be a dress on you. It was fine.

But Jeongguk found this extremely attractive for some reason. He knew that underneath the thin fabric of the shirt, his shirt, was nothing but some pretty lace panties. It was sexy to see how his clothes didn’t quite fit you. Not to mention the way your eyes looked up at him, to your shy stance. It was an interesting side that he hasn’t seen yet. He had to suppress the smile that wanted to form on his lips.

“Again?” He groaned, trying to sell being annoyed as well as he could.

You shrugged your shoulders. “Small person, small bladder.”

He averted his eyes from you as he stepped to the side. You walked out of the room, him following close behind. The bathroom was only a few steps away, very convenient. You walked inside and closed the door behind you, where you heard the door being opened again.

“You know this has to stay cracked.”

You rolled your eyes. “I swear, people in mental hospitals at least get some privacy.”

He resumed his position to the side of the door, pulling out his phone while he waited for you.

You turned on the faucet to hide the quiet sounds of you searching around the room. There had to be a bobby pin lying around here somewhere. Sure, it was more of a female thing, but two of the members had long hair. That would be more of a reason for something similar to exist in this building.

You opened up the medicine cabinet, quietly shuffling through the medicine bottles and various items.

“So this is what you do?” You asked loudly, trying to hide any sounds that weren’t running water. “Gang shit?”

Jeongguk scoffed outside of the door. “That’s bold coming from the daughter of one of the biggest mafia leaders.”

“I’m just saying!” You dumped out a container into your hand, only finding random pills. “You could’ve mentioned that before I slept with you.”

“Like that would’ve changed anything.”

You paused your search for a moment, focusing on his comment. Your brows furrowed, pouting as you glanced back at the door. “It would’ve!”

“Such a liar,” he chuckled. “You know damn well if I told you I was in the mafia, you still would’ve been happily bouncing on my dick and begging for more.”

You bit down on your lip with pressure. It was such a shame he knew you all too well. You dropped down to the floor, finally finding a bobby pin on the ground under the sink. You silent cheered to yourself as you got up.

“And the fact that you’re quiet right now proves my point!” As he continued you flushed the toilet and pretended to wash your hands. Swinging the door open, you peeked your head out with a glare in your eyes.

“Shut the fuck up.” You walked past him, hearing his footsteps following.

“What? You’re gonna tell me you don’t miss having my cock deep inside of you?” You knew he was smirking.

You stopped walking for a moment, feeling the warmth of his chest pressed against you. He leaned down, his cool breath tickling your earlobe. “I know you miss it.” His hands for their place on your hips, pulling your frame into him slowly. “I just wanna hear you say it.”

You relaxed into him, your head tilting to the side as he pressed his lips against the rim of your ear. It sent a shiver down your spine as your eyes fluttered close. A month was way too long to not have his skin against yours. He was a weekly kind of love, shit, daily if you could. If only you could place his hands over his, guiding them up your shirt to your chest where your nipples perked against the thin fabric. He could take you in this hallway, just like this. Quick and hot, up against the wall. No kisses, no time wasted.

Just pure lust.

But you had to restrain, not letting your sex push your mind into addictive habits with the drug named Jeongguk. Just before his warm lips could press against your neck, you slipped out of his grasp.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said quickly as you entered your room. You were expecting to hear a quick remark, followed by a door closing where you were left to the silence. But instead, the footsteps continued into the room, with the door closing afterward.

You watched as he casually walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. He leaned against the wall comfortably, pulling out a lollipop from his pocket. He unwrapped it and stuck the sweet sphere in his mouth. The bright light of his phone illuminated his face.

You stared at him, eyes blinking a couple of times. Your brows furrowed, biting the inside of your cheek before speaking. “Why are you in here?”

“Just want some company.” His eyes never left his phone.

Your brows stayed furrowed. You debated whether you should fight this sudden grace of his presence, or just let it be and enjoy the company.

“So you just want to bother me?”

Obviously, the former wins.

He glanced up at you from his screen, swirling the lollipop in his mouth before pulling it out. “I mean it’s better than nothing, isn’t it?”

Your eyes peer at the candy. It’s been so long since you had one, and it’s your favorite flavor. Jeongguk noticed this, slowly moving the lollipop around as your eyes followed it. You were in a trance, fixated on the simple sweet pleasure.

“You want this?”

You blink again, pulling yourself out of the trance. “No, I’m taking shit from you.”

“Oh come on, Y/N. Don’t be like that.” He placed his phone down for a second, twisting his body halfway to face you.

“I have every right to be like that! You fucking kidnapped me, beat me up, then locked me in a stupid room!” You counted on your fingers for each point.

“It’s for your own safety.”

“My own safety?” You repeated in a sharp tone. Your hands balled up into fists. “How the fuck is this keeping me safe?!”

Jungkook glanced down at your tiny fist. “It’s keeping you safe from Taehyung killing you, and us losing the money as a result of that.”

He returned to his previous position against the wall. “Plus, you like it here.”

He stuck the lollipop back into his mouth. “Admit that your old life was boring.”

“Psh!” Your arms folded over your chest. “It was not boring!”

“We had to survey you for three weeks and all you did was sit in that damn office and go home.” His attention returned to his phone. “Yeah, that’s definitely the most exciting life I have ever seen.”

His sarcastic tone caused your nose to scrunch up. “Shut up! I had a lot of shit to handle! I went out to party some days…”

“Namjoon had me and Jimin in every club you frequented and you never showed up once.”

You frowned a little. Assuming that his position was an order, you decided he was talking about Boss. You suppressed a smirk as you took note of the name, storing it for later use.

“Oh? So it was one of your little missions to find me. Is. that why you were so eager to go home with me that night?”

Jeongguk sat up, turning to face you completely this time. He set his phone aside as a smirk played on his lips. “Oh, no baby. That was pure luck. Speaking of…” He then scooched closer to you, only a little. Nothing to cause your heart to race.

“Doesn’t this mean we’re meant to be in some way?”

You raised an eyebrow slightly. “What are you on about?”

“And I quote,” he cleared his throat as he straightened his spine. “If we’re meant to be, our paths will cross again.” He said, putting on a voice to mimic your higher tone.

And there it is.

Your heart started to race though you keep your poker face. But you could hear the loud thuds in your chest. Wouldn’t it be crazy if the universe decided to make your soulmate a part of something you hated? You looked over at the man, smirking away because it was obvious that you were flushed due to your delayed reaction.

“Are you really flirting with me right now?” You glared. “After you kidnapped me?” You desperately needed to keep your feelings in check. You weren’t going to be that girl who fell in love with her capture. This wasn’t Beauty and the Beast. You scolded yourself for liking his flirty ways.

“Ah, so it’s too soon for you?”

There wasn’t an uncontrollable heat rising to your cheeks as he looked at you. It was a dead giveaway. The thought of repeating that night, the same thoughts you had in the hallway earlier, crept into your mind again.

“Get out!” You groaned, protesting your inner thoughts.

All he did was chuckle, his glossy pink lips forming into a heart-stopping smile as he glanced down at his phone once more. He then got off your bed and stood up. He made his way to the door when he suddenly stopped and turned to face you. His eyes simply glanced over you one last time before leaving the room.

↠ ɴᴇxᴛ :: ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ :: ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪɴᴅᴇx ↞

#jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fic #jungkook mafia au #jeon jungkook mafia au #bts mafia au #bts mafia series #jungkook x reader #jungkook x female reader #jungkook x y/n #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x female reader #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook x you #y/n stories #bts au #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts x y/n #bts x you #fic: broken codes

[mviswidow]

through the vent

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: i think i cursed?

Prompt: Hi I was wondering if you could do a Wanda prompt where it takes place right after civil war where they are in the raft. Maybe how the reader deals with seeing Wanda like that, I know it’s not the best prompt but I love your writing and wanted to read something that had to do with the raft  - @kellie2699

Summary: Wanda and R are on the Raft together and Wanda isn’t feeling so great about it.

A/N: this one was really fun to write, i’ve also really been wanting to read/write something raft related, so i’m very glad i received this request. (also just wanted to emphasize that i’m well aware that wanda was kept separate from the group but for the fic purposes, she isn’t)

You were laid on your back, looking up at the ceiling and trying to sleep. The lights seemed like they turned off an hour ago, but it wasn’t like you would have been able to tell anyway. You looked out the glass door of your cell and saw Scott sleeping in the cell across from you. Sam and Clint on either side of him. They were both asleep, too.

You could hear soft tapping coming from the cell beside you, so you turned towards the wall in your cot towards the noise before speaking quietly, “Wanda?”

The tapping stopped.

“Are you still awake?” 

“Obviously,” She said dryly, but quickly caught herself and apologized for being rude.

“It’s alright,” You reached your hand up and traced the ridges in the wall with your finger to keep yourself busy. “Are you okay?”

“Not really,” She replied. “Are you?”

You shrugged before realizing that she couldn’t see you, “Eh, I’m fine.”

“You could have just said that you don’t feel that great either,” Wanda said, and you heard shuffling coming from her side, so you assumed she was moving around in the cot. “What’s wrong?”

“I miss you,” You sighed.

She was silent for a bit until you heard her sniffle, which broke your heart. All you wanted to do was hold her but there was a stupid metal wall in between you, “I wish I could see you.” She croaked.

“I know, baby. We’re okay though, we’ll get out of here,” You knew your words were useless. Neither of you knew if anyone was coming for you. Tony had visited earlier and you could practically feel how angry at him Wanda was from your cell. She thought he was there to negotiate for you guys, after you’d been stuck in here for three days.

When Wanda didn’t answer after a bit, you spoke again, “Will you try to get some sleep, please? I know we’re imprisoned and all, but I don’t want your sleep schedule to be fucked up, you’ll make yourself sick.”

“Okay,” She mumbled in response, and felt grateful her cell was next to yours and that there was a vent connecting them that she could talk to you through. “Are you going to sleep, too?”

“I’m going to try, yes.”

“Okay,” You heard her shuffling around again. “Goodnight, Y/n/n. I love you.:

“I love you too, Wands.”

---

The next day was quiet for the most part. You spoke with Sam and Scott whole Clint was being broody. The meals were silent, apart from the occasional bickering between Clint and Sam about something stupid that you couldn’t bring yourself to care about enough to listen to. Wanda took a bunch of naps during the day, which made you think she probably didn’t end up going to sleep that fast. 

She wasn’t in a very talkative mood, but that was fair, since she hadn’t been in once since you’d arrived at the raft. You’d tried to strike up some kind of conversation with her once the lights went out but she shut it down before you could talk for too long, “I’m actually kind of tired, babes, I think I’m going to try to sleep.”

Wanda seemed to be in a better mood the day after, which you were happy about. She talked a bit with everyone, you had a few conversations with her throughout the day, which you were happy about, but none of them were very long. You felt weird because you wanted to make her feel better but it was hard to do that when you knew that the boys could probably hear you. You didn’t care that much, you would do it if you knew it would help Wanda, but nothing seemed to be working. 

You played rock paper scissors with Scott for probably way too long until the lights shut off and everyone said goodnight to each other. 

Wanda was tapping on something again, still quietly. You waited until you thought the guys were asleep before speaking, “Hi.”

“Hi, my love.”

“Do you feel better today?” You asked, your voice soft. 

“A little bit, yeah,” Wanda replied, which made you smile a little. 

Her tapping stopped, “Do you actually think someone is coming for us?”

“Yeah, I do. I don’t think Steve would leave us in here, everything that happened. Besides, he knows that Scott and Clint have children, and he cares about us, he won’t let us sit here forever.”

“Yeah, I think you're right,” She said slowly. “He better hurry before I lose my mind in here.”

You chuckled, “You aren’t going to lose your mind, Wands, we’ll be just fine, I promise.”

“It feels like I’m going crazy.”

You sighed, “I feel like I’m going crazy, too. But I’m glad I have you.”

“I’m glad I have you, too.”

Neither of you talked for a few minutes, you just sat in the comfortable silence. You were propped up against the wall, leaning your head onto it, ready to give anything to just see her.

“Do you remember our first kiss?” Wanda asked.

“Of course I remember, that was the best and most embarrassing thing that ever happened.”

You could hear her giggle from the other side of the wall, “It was embarrassing because you decided the best time to kiss me was in the middle of Tony’s dramatic speech, you should have known he was going to say something.”

You groaned and covered your face with your hands.

“It was a damn good first kiss though,” Wanda added.

“Do you remember when we showed up together at one of Tony’s parties for the first time-”

“With the coordinated outfits?” She interrupted.

“Yes,” You chuckled. “You looked so beautiful that night.”

“I miss you so much,” Wanda said, after a few seconds of silence. “I know you’re right there, but I feel so alone. I don’t think I-”

Wanda fell silent when she heard noise coming from outside the door of your floor.

“Y/n?”

“We’re okay, Wands,” You said quietly, getting up from your cot to get closer to the glass door.

You heard the door to the ring being opened. Then footsteps. It was unusual for the guards to come in when the lights were off, they always turned them on.

But it made sense when the shadow walking towards your cell got closer and you could see his face, “Steve.”

---

You and Wanda stood holding each other while Steve got Sam, Clint, and Scott out of their cells.

You were close to crying, and you could feel Wanda’s shaky breaths against your neck, where she had her head tucked into. You rubbed her back, trying to soothe her the best you could, and in response, she just held you tighter, so glad that she could finally touch you again.

Once the boys were out of their cells, Steve was getting you guys out of the raft and into a helicopter that you were packed into, but it wasn’t all that bad. Before you got in, though, you had Steve break the collar that was kept around Wanda’s neck.

He explained his plan, to meet up with Natasha, who now had to be on the run, to figure out a way to get Scott and Clint back to their families with some kind of deal, and to try to keep semi-separated from each other with the exception of meet-ups. The group was only allowed to be together long-term in pairs.

The rest of the helicopter ride was silent. No one really knew where you were going besides Steve, obviously, but no one cared enough to ask.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff oneshot #wlw #wlw imagines #wlw oneshot #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x f!reader #ca:cw #captain america: civil war #sapphic