#see she wouldn’t cooperate she wanted to be angsty

[akuzeisms]

@pessimistics asked:

[  NEEDED  ]  sender approaches receiver and kisses them longer and more passionately than they ever have before. 

She'd spent the last hour pacing in her cabin, long before even sending the message. They were docked on the Citadel--the deepest she could get into Council space--and she'd made sure to send a ticket for a fast-packet flight. If she was going to meet with him, she certainly wasn't going to make him foot the bill to get there. If she went anywhere near Earth, she was pretty sure they'd be arrested and detained. At least on the Citadel, she had enough pull and authority that she could pull it off. But her gut still twisted uncomfortably at the thought. Two years. What was she to do with two years? Leaving him alone, like that? And she knew what he'd been through. It'd been hard enough on her friends losing her--what would it have done to him?

Just looking at him made her feel guilty, and she knew she couldn't mask it from her features. She was waiting for him to yell at her like everyone else had; she was waiting for the blame, the anger, the demands about where she’d been, why she was gone for two years, all of it. She anticipated the anger, and she anticipated how she’d deal with it: the same way she dealt with everything else. Shut down. Take it. Concede defeat.

As far as she was concerned, he had every right to be angry. She’d left. She’d abandoned him. For two years, she’d been gone without a word, and she’d waited months to reach out. Anything she’d say would sound like an excuse; that she hadn’t had time, that things happened so quickly, that she had other, more important things to worry about, lives at stake…

“I’’m so--” Her apology was cut short as he’d marched right up to her, hands on either side of her face, and kissed her. She was frozen with momentary surprise at first; it wasn’t exactly how she expected to be greeted, but it wasn’t unwelcome. Familiarity took over as she leaned into it, like a part of her craved that familiarity, the comfort that came from it. After all, what had been a little over two years for him was merely days to her, like she’d woken up and the whole world had changed.

[fleurrreads]

hi b!

i was wondering if maybe i could request something angsty w steve?

thinking maybe of something like … unrequited love? or you feel like it’s unrequited?

(i absolutely SUCK at requesting i apologize)

★ right person, wrong time

an: hi lovely! i went through it with this request lol. i hope you like it ♡

warnings: angst and some more angst

tick tick tick

The day is going excruciatingly slow. You’re counting down the minutes before the school day is over. Just ten more minutes. Ten more minutes until your life hopefully changes for the better.

The plan is simple. You’ll go to Family Video after school, ask Steve out on a date and then hopefully he’ll say yes and you’ll have the best day of your life.

You try to push away the lingering anxiety that he won’t reciprocate your feelings. Pushing all the contents on your desk in your bag when the bell signals the end of the day. Hands sweaty as you stop by your locker to gather some things for the weekend.

Your locker door gets pulled open abruptly, Robin facing you with a smile. “Soooo? How are we feeling? You ready to confess your undying love to Stevie boy?” She wiggles her eyebrows and you laugh nervously. “I’m ready. As ready as I’ll ever be at least.” You’re trying not to think too hard about it.

The walk to Family Video was probably the most tiring and nerve wracking that you’ve ever experienced. On the way you’ve been recalling all the times you’d tell Steve how you knew you fell in love with him.

‘That one time you were still working at Scoops Ahoy and you gave me that ice cream for free because you saw the look on my face and just wanted to see a smile on my face.’

‘And the time when we went camping as a group and my tent just wouldn’t cooperate and you set it up for me without any complaints.’

‘And then of course the countless times you call me ‘pretty girl’ when you pick me up from school.’ You feel confident that he has to feel the same. It can’t be a coincidence that he’s never helped Robin like that.

Your feet stop infront of the video store and your heart beats madly in your chest. Robin stops you and spins you around before you can spot Steve in the store. A panicked expression washing over her face. Your heart sinks. “What’s wrong Robin?” You try and turn around to face what she’s looking at but she turns you back to face her. “Nothing. Uhm- I just forgot to tell you that I needed your help on this project of mine. Maybe we should uh… maybe we should go to my place first and finish it. Yeah! That’s a great idea!” She’s rambling, she’s nervous. You shove her hands away from you lightly, turning around and looking into the shop.

Robin was right. We shouldn’t have been here now. My heart feels like it’s breaking in a million pieces.

Steve is stood infront of the counter, a blonde girl standing next to him — kissing him. You see Steve smile into the kiss, grabbing her by the back of her head. You feel funny, the world is spinning as you stumble away from the store. Robin’s grim expression makes you feel even more embarrassed. She was rooting for this to go successfully. Did she know about the girl?

“Who is she Robin?” your voice is wobbly from the tears threatening to spill. “Did you know he was seeing her?” your embarrassment is on an astronomical level as you recall all those moments you thought he was showing you he liked you. Pfft, what a joke.

The hesitation in Robin’s voice is the final straw. You don’t look at her as you turn on your heel and make your way home. You don’t notice Steve watching the whole thing unfold with the blonde now walking around the store. Robin yelling your name after you.

As soon as you get home in the comfort of your own space you break down. The sobs now racking your frame as you fall to the floor. After a few jagged breaths you throw your bag’s contents on your bed. The letter you wrote Steve being right on the top. You rip it into four before throwing it in the trash bin.

Your heartbreak turned into despair. You were a fool to think that he would ever like you. Why did you think he’d ever go for you? You should’ve known better.

You cried yourself to sleep that night.

You hadn’t contacted Robin the entire weekend. You couldn’t face her. So as Monday rolled around you dreaded going to school. You barely ate anything at all, your cheeks were hollow and eyes baggy. You’re tired.

Robin tries talking to you before your Chemistry class, but you ignore her — choosing to sit at the table furthest from her. Away from everyone.

At lunch you sit with Dustin and the Hellfire Club. No-one asked anything as you sat down, quietly eating your meal.

Last period rolls around and Robin finally gets the chance to talk to you. “Please, talk to me. I’m so sorry for what happened. I didn’t know he was fooling around with that girl. Please you have to believe me, I didn’t know.” Robin is pleading, desperate. She scolded Steve when you left that day. ‘How could you not tell me you were serious with her?’ to which Steve replied, ‘Who? The blonde? We’re not.’ Robin was just as mad as you were. Steve could be so oblivious sometimes. So she told you everything. What he said and how he was just desperate because he hasn’t had a girlfriend in months.

Your brows furrowed. Has he always been like that? Was that why he was nice to you? Because he was bored and desperate? Robin sighed, her frustration also evident on her face. “Please try the confession again, I hate seeing you like this.” You laugh sarcastically. “Are you serious right now? I can’t do that, no.”

Something flashes in Robin’s eye, and she nods, understanding that was a silly question. “Steve’s picking us up today by the way.” She says it hesitantly. You look down, your shoes giving you some silent encouragement that you’d be able to face him today.

You see his car before you even step foot out of the building. Robin walks you towards the car, holding your hand in reassurance. You stop dead in your tracks before you can open the car door. “I can’t do this. Pretend i’m okay. Pretend i’m not hurt. I don’t belong here. I don’t want you to have to choose between us, because that would be unfair towards you. He didn’t technically do anything wrong. Just tell him i’ve been sick or something. I’ll walk home from now on.” You breathe a relieved sigh and walk towards the school again, tears spilling from your eyes.

You were wrong. Your heart fell in love with someone it shouldn’t have.

Steve watches from the car as you wipe your eyes, as Robin gets in the car. “What was that? Is she not coming with us?” He hasn’t heard from you in three days which was unusual for you. Robin puts on her seatbelt, sighing sadly. “She won’t be driving with us anymore. She says she prefers walking now. Something about exercise.” Steve picks out on the obvious lie but chooses to ignore it for now.

Steve thinks of how he was going to ask you to watch a movie with him that previous friday when that stupid blonde came into the store and kissed him for a bet and ruined his plans. He saw the look in your eyes when you walked away that day.

His heart ached as he drove away. He blew his shot, the only one he seemed to really care about. This one shot with you, and now that was gone too.

[missdawnandherdusk]

The Defendant

The Case

Summary: You get assigned a case as the last step in your path to become a public defender. What happens when those anonymous names and numbers become people of your past?

A/n: Hi my loves! I am so glad that you guys are excited for this--because I am. They're so angsty and I love them. Anyway, enjoy a little bit more~

(p.s. i cleaned up my taglist to the best of what tumblr would let me so if you want to be added let me know!)

The case of Draco Malfoy. 

The Draco Malfoy. 

Slytherin protégée. 

And a giant pain in my ass all throughout school.

And now here I was with his court case on my kitchen table after I thought I would never have to see his name again. Last I heard he left with his family and was in Paris. But this case was something the Prophet didn’t have their hands on. No one knew Draco was on trial for murder.

Draco wasn’t in Azkaban like I had thought. He was wandless and living at his family’s manor under house arrest. I had half a thought to take the trip out to the manor. Surely, I could contact someone who knew where it was. 

I sent a few owls out. Whether I could work this case or not was still a mystery to me, but if I showed up empty handed on Tuesday, I’d be screwed either way. I had to work this case like I didn’t know. Like it didn’t matter. Like everything was fine.

Hermione answered me first. She had more questions than I did but she knew the laws better than me: there was a possibility that I could legally work this case. She also had the address for the manor. Wiltshire. It wasn’t far from my little town. It wouldn’t make a hard trip. 

If Draco wanted to see me was another matter entirely. My heart sank in my chest. If he didn’t cooperate I could lose everything. And Draco wasn’t the cooperative type. 

Somewhere fate had to be laughing at me. 

I dreaded 4pm on Tuesday.

But I knocked on the office door anyway.

“Come in,” 

I took a deep breath, my anxiety caught in my throat. I didn’t know what would come of this meeting. There was still a chance that I couldn’t work on this case because I was a witness in it, but if this was the only way to pass my exams then I didn’t know what else I could do. 

“Dr. Dresden, there seems to be a problem with this case,” I said, taking a seat. 

“I’m aware.” 

“It’s not what you think,” My palms began to sweat. “Professor I can’t work this case.” 

“So you wish to fail.” 

“No! No! Please, no,” I shook my head. “I can’t work on this case because I know who this case is about.” 

“And that makes you incapable?” 

“What? No,” I struggled for words but Dr. Dresden pressed on. 

“Miss Y/l/n you are aware of my rules. If you do not work this case to closing, you will fail and you will not become a public defender. Now, I’m sorry that you know these people, but did you think this job did not entail defending people you once knew?” 

“No sir,” My face became solemn. “Sir I have a witness statement in this case.” 

“I am aware.” 

“But you gave me this case.” 

“Miss Y/l/n if you are going to waste my time stating the obvious, perhaps I should fail you now.” 

“No, please.” I begged. So this is how we were doing this. I squared my shoulders and pressed on. “Okay. I’ve contacted the other witnesses and have set up a few interviews and I also have the address for Malfoy Manor. I’ll visit next week.” 

“I see. And what do you make of the case?”

“There’s got to be something missing. If Malfoy says he killed Dumbledore but his wand doesn’t there has to be something else going on,” I said flipping through my notes. “There are also a few witnesses who say they don’t believe Malfoy is capable of murder.” 

“And what do you make of that?”

“I don’t know yet. I need to talk to Malfoy.” 

“Then it seems like we’re finished for today. I will see you next week,”

“Yes professor. Thank you,” I bowed my head and left his office, now making solid plans. 

I was going to acquit Draco Malfoy. 

Or figure out if he really was capable of murder. 

The next day I was on the manor steps wondering if this was worth it. I had went over it a thousand times: not the a first appearance, then plea day, then pre-trial conference notes. No no, there had to have been a million different ways that I phrased saying hello to him; explaining what I was doing; begging for him to help me; and maybe a few where I moved across the world and never looked at him or this stupid case again. Those ones were a little fun to imagine. 

It was chilly in Wiltshire and a mist hung in the air around the magnificent house. It was as if the air and house itself were hiding secrets that not even a stray sunbeam could find. 

The door opened and though it had been years since I had since him, Draco Malfoy stood in front of me, his gaze just as pensive and guarded. I opened my mouth to introduce myself but he beat me to it. 

“Y/n?” 

“You know my name?” In every single conversation I had dreamed of, not one of them did I ever imagine him knowing my name. 

“We sat next to each other in potions for four years.” He said plainly. “What are you doing here?” He tilted his head, an amused smirk on his lips. 

I inhaled sharply. “I was assigned your case. I’m your new defense attorney.” 

He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yeah okay, no really, why are you here?” He didn’t believe me. 

“I’m telling you the truth, I was assigned your case.” I pulled the official letter from my bag. “From Dr. Dresden himself,” 

“So you’re the one he chose,” Draco said, plucking the letter from my hands. 

“What?” 

“He told me he had a promising student who might be able to acquit me—or finally put me out of my misery.” Draco shrugged and handed the letter back to me. 

“Oh.” I didn’t know I was personally chosen for this case. It made me wonder how many strings were pulled for this and if fate really was laughing somewhere. 

“Well, I’m sorry to waste your time, but I’m not interested in closing the case,” He shrugged. 

See, now that I did expect. 

“I need to close this case.” I said firmly. 

“I’m sorry, but no,” 

“You don’t get a choice,” My defiance ran deep. “I am closing this case.” 

“It’s my case!” 

“No.” I said calmly. “It’s my case. And it will be closed. Whether or not you walk free is up to you.” 

Draco scrutinized me with narrowed eyes. 

“What is this? Some kind of power play?” He asked. 

“This is my job. This is what I was given. And this is what I’m going to do.” I reached in my bag and pulled out a spare copy of the case notes and handed it to him. “I’ll be back on Friday. 8 o’clock.” 

“I can’t do Friday.” 

I gritted my teeth. “Oh, yeah, because you have so many places to be.” 

“I can’t do Friday.” He dug in harder. “Saturday. Noon.” 

Inhaling sharply I rolled my eyes.

“Fine. Saturday. Noon.” 

.

The Witness

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masterlist

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@coffee-addicti @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18@whygz@crazywritingbug @bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog@savingdraco  @akari180 @slytherin-emerald @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe @spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise @katsukink @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things @tmnt-queen@hxneybgb @belcvayelena @moviesbooksandfandoms   @cocochanelthepupper @ninacotte @braelynn-johnston    

@jiggllyy @darcypotter-blog  @thiccheerioss@lottie289 @beautiful-pegasus@tceedlmao @anonymous034 @bi-andready-tocry @dragonsandbread @the-queen-of-hell-things @alienmotel  @oh-itsnothing @sunflowerxsadnessw @fattycooter @fanficsigottaread @gweaslvy @strawberriesonsummer @gaysludge @ray-of-sunrise @artist-bby @shadowsingeraxolotl @quillsareforwriting @wollymalfoy @lilpieceoftoast @paper-cats @floweryjh @hufflautia @livize75 @annie-mcl @riathearora

[buzzyb33]

hiii it me..can i get angsty smut of josh if you're comfortable please...also loved your last fic so cute xoxo

Prompt: Y/n going out with one of her childhood friends and it instantly getting photographed and sent to josh- though he knew she wouldn’t cheat on him- though, he hadn’t told his friends you and him were even together, he was already having a bad day and this just pissed him off more- ending in sloppy forgivings.

Warnings: swearing, SMUT, dirty talk, angsty.

I wait on the side of the busy streets of London after meeting up with Keegan, a friend from my secondary school I haven’t seen in years.

I had a small smile on my face as I wait for my Taxi, I’d already let josh know I was on my way back but I hadn’t got a response.

I see my uber and climb in, I arrange my schedule as I get ready to tell josh about my day.

As I get home I pull my converses off and clear my throat.

“Josh?”

I call as I walk into the living room.

He isn’t in their so I assume he was in his office or our room.

“Josh! I’m back!”

I shout as I go to wash my hands.

“Where were you?” He says as I jump slightly and turn to him.

“I was out with a friend from my secondary school.”

I look at his face and I can tell he’s pissed off, he has a small frown etched into his features and his stance is more firm.

“Yeah- right, Y/n-“ he exhales.

“Don’t do this- you’re clearly pissed off at something don’t try to use me to get more annoyed.” I say and he rolls his eyes.

“I don’t do that- I didn’t ask who you was with- though it was my next question, where were you?” He says again and I narrow my eyes.

“Central London, a coffee shop.” My voice is firm as I look up at him.

“Who were you with?” He asks as his eyes narrow into mine.

“Keegan Cooper- a friend of mine when I was younger.” I challenge him.

“So- just a friend?” He questions and I loose my guard for a second.

“Josh are you taking the piss- you think-“

He cuts me off “I don’t think anything y/n, I just asked you a question.”

“Yes, he’s just a friend.”

He hums and turns around, going to his office.

I scoff and go to our room.

-

“Y/n! Come here please..” I hear josh and I go downstairs, I was still in my black pencil skirt and grey jumper.

“What? Do you want another argument?” I hold back an eye roll and he sighs.

“No- come here.” He replies with a soft sigh and I narrow my eyes.

“I’m close enough.”

“Please?” I exhale and he taps his thigh, I sit down on his lap hesitantly and he kisses my cheek.

I sit to face him, my legs on either side of his thighs.

I tuck myself closer to him and he groans lightly, I kiss his bearded cheek.

His calloused hands find my hips and he breathes in the scent of my hair.

I get his motives and move my hips lightly on his, his breathes getting deeper as his fingers dig into the flesh in my thighs.

I breath as he pulls back and looks into my eyes for permission I kiss his lips briefly and nod.

He pulls down his tracksuit bottoms and leaves himself in his boxers, his cold hands traveling up my jumper giving me goosebumps, I shiver as no words are exchanged between us, his hands go to my jumper and I lift my arms up as he pulls it off, my hips still moving lightly, his mouth going to my breast bone.

Soft whimpers leave my mouth as I speed up my pace, feeling his hard-on getting more intense.

He grunts lowly as his lips travel further down, his right sliding up and down my waist.

I could tell from his movements he was still pissed off so this was going to be rough.

Meh pulls his mouth off of me and brings me onto my back underneath him, my skirt rolled at my hips, my black panties already damp.

He mumbled something under his breath as his lips went to my jaw, his hands on his waistband.

“You ready?” He said with almost a dark tone to his normally energetic voice.

I meet his eyes and nod.

He pulls his boxers down, his cock springing free as I bite my lip, my cheeks flushing.

He pulls down my panties, leaving my bottom half bare except my socks.

He grips my hips, sure to leave marks for tomorrow as he eases himself inside of me, my ankles meeting at his tail bone.

He gives my little to no time to adjust before he starts thrusting, low grunts leaving him as his mouth goes to my breasts which were still covered by my bra, he pulls it down with his mouth and sucks my breasts as my head goes back, his hips snapping into me.

He grumbles and speaks: “this is- all me- yeah? ‘s all mine… ain’t it n/n?” He says in between pants.

I nod as I squeeze my eyes shut.

“Y-ye- fuck josh-! Yeah.. all yours..”

He grins as his hips somehow snap into mine harder.

“Yeah- t-that’s what I fucking thought.. just me..” he groans out as he brings his calloused hands to my waist as he keeps on thrusting.

I breath out moans of pleasure, my eyes pricking with tears at his sheer size.

“My body- yeah- yeah..” he mumbles to himself as I feel myself clench around him, his grunts getting deeper and his thrusts harder.

My moans getting more high pitched as I grip the back of his neck, my arms around him.

“Josh- I- I’m close-“ I grown out as he opens his eyes.

“You can go more than one- can’t ya? Cum on my cock.. yeah..” he groans as he slows down a bit.

I tremble as I hit my first climax- and definitely not last- of the night.

“Good girl…” he breaths, and I swear to god, I could cum again from that alone.

Through out the night, we switched positions and I rode him, kissed him and sucked his neck.

After all the sex, he pulled out of me, some fun dripping of his semi-erection- a mix of both of ours.

He pulls his boxers back up as I sit on his thighs, exhausted.

He pulls my panties back up for me and picks me up, taking us into the master bedroom.

He tells me not to fall asleep as he runs a nice hot bubble Bath.

We had had sex before and after care was something he did, but it had never really crossed my mind how much effort he put into it, how much effort he put into us.

He comes back in as his sleeves are pulled up and his hands are wet.

He gives me a smile and leans down to pick me up again.

I smile at him.

“Josh-“

He cuts me off.

“No, you don’t need to.”

He instructs me to undress which I oblige, feeling a little more self conscious.

He undressed himself as we climb into the bath together, my back to his chest as he massaged my scalp with shampoo and silence.

“You okay?” He asks, a gentle touch of concern in his voice.

Although he was rough, it was very fucking pleasurable.

“Yeah, I’m okay- are you?” He hummed in response.

“You sure I didn-“ I cut him off.

“I’m sure.”

He smiles as the bathroom sets into comfortable silence.

As we get out the bath he kisses my lips the second I’m in my pretty little thing pyjamas and pulls on a vest and some bottoms.

As he climbs in bed with me he looks into my eyes and I look back, before they wonder and see the mark I left on his neck that he was more than aware about.

“I’ve got a recording in the morning so I might not be here when you wake up, Kay?” He asks as I nuzzle into his chest.

I nod as his arms wrap around me, and I think at that moment I realised this is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.

The following morning, josh had forgot to mention or even bother hiding the hickey on his neck.

The problem was, y/n was another content creator in his circle, she made comedy skits with other YouTubers and had a podcast with Becky bambino.

He was recording ”sidemen who wants to be a millionaire 2” and took off his hoodie where his neck was very clearly on show, though he didn’t think about it nor attract much attention.

“I’d like to phone a friend, please.” Ethan says as he looks At Harry.

“Okay! And is this friend in the studio or call them?” Harry asks as he crosses his arms.

“I’d like to ask Zerkaa please-“ everyone looked at josh and Tobis jaw actually dropped.

“What?” He said as their faces mirrored shock.

“Josh, you’ve been busy!” Harry laughs as josh frowns.

“What do you me- oh.” His face instantly turns a bright shade of red.

“Well-“ he utters as he covers his face.

“Who josh?! Do we know them?” Tobi asks as JJ laughs loudly.

“…”

“Yeah, you know her..”

Quite well, too.

A/n:

FIRST SMUT?? I don’t mind this one ibr.

By the way, should be a new fic every 3-5 days!

Requests are open!

Masterlist!

[multi-fandom-fanfiction]

Requests I have (if you don't see yours please let me know)

Jamie and Cersei Lannister X Daughter!Reader (Platonic)

(Cersei wants to marry off there daughter but she is Jamie”s pride and joy and wont let that happen)

FP Jones X Reader (Smut) (FP Jones x reader!Andrew!rough)

Joffery Baratheon X Sister!Reader (Platonic!!!) he’s sadistic like joffery? that’s the reason they’re really close and trust each other more than anything

Joffery Baratheon X Sister!Reader (Smut) (joffrey imagine where him and his sister (2 years older) have always had sexual tension but they never saw it that way and one night while she’s changing joffrey bursts through the door angry about something but stops when he sees her. both of them at this point are horny for each other and he comes up to her kissing her while he grabs her breast and shes kind of in shock still but melts into it and yeah they have sex on the bed and take turns topping each other)

Ramsay Bolton X Sister!Reader (Smut) (Ramsay (got) has a younger sister and they often have intercourse, but this one night Ramsay brings Reek, his father and mother into readers room and ties them up. He tells them to watch. So Ramsay and her have really rough sex and tells them to look at her and makes her look at them to make sure they knows how good Ramsay makes her feel. When they’re done they kill them)

Betty Cooper X Fem!Reader (damn! i would have never imagined myself being with betty but when i was reading your post, u couldn’t stop myself from smiling! soft girlfriends haha. i love it! 💖💖💖 could you do something like this but as best friends with cheryl/toni or even both if it’s not too hard for you? i wanna see where it would go!)

Daenerys Targaryen X mercenary!male reader (The reader is a mercenary whom Cersei hires to kidnap Daenerys shortly after she arrives at Dragonstone. But instead of bringing Dany to Cersei, the mercenary decides to keep her for himself and tame her into becoming his willing lover)

Cersei Lannister X Fem!Reader (The reader faints in Cersei"s arm)

Petyr Baelish X Baratheon Fem!Reader (Semi Requested!) (Now that all of her brothers are gone Robert"s legitimate daughter has risen to be seated on the throne. Her council is demanding a husband what will the new queen do!)

Robb Stark X Baratheon Fem!Reader (Hey I love your work! Could I request some angsty robb stark x reader? Maybe reader is Cersei and robert’s true child and was married off to robb. Cersei is very distressed about your wellbeing when the war breaks out and when she learns of the plans of the red wedding, she begs her father to spare you. He does but at a price for your continued show of hatred of the Baratheons and lannisters. Letting you have to watch as robb dies and returning you home without realizing you’re pregnant.)

A wolverine request but I can’t find the info (so if you requested a wolverine request please resend it)

1.Twisted Desires

Dean, Sam, and Y/N Winchester were trapped together from the moment John found yellow eyes had killed the mother of his child was killed by yellow eyes in 1988 exactly five years after his wife and mother of his eldest two children were murdered by the same demon. The three lived by there father’s code doesn’t go somewhere twice and you don’t stay long. They never got to make friends so they were all each other had so maybe it was a flower in the attic complex. The three siblings loved each other far more than anyone else ever but maybe Sam and Dean’s love wasn’t a way older brothers were supposed to love their little sisters and Y/N’s love wasn’t a way a little sister should love her brothers. But they controlled themselves the best they could. Sam went away to college and Y/N and Dean continued until Sammy got home. The three of them wouldn’t admit it but they needed each other but one night after all three Winchesters were frustrated over a particularly hard case and tightened sexual tension. Sam threatens to leave and Dean tells him to go. What happens when Y/N breaks down and begs him to stay? Will she confess how she feels or will there twisted desires remain hidden?

1.Going against the gods

Ivar the Boneless always felt like everyone tortured him everyone but his perfect goddess like Y/H/C (Your Hair Color) hair and Y/E/C (Your eye color) little sister. She was made for him she loved all her brother’s but Ivar knew he was her favorite. Whatever he wanted she gave him whatever he wanted her to do she did. When he killed Sigurd she didn’t call him a monster and never talk to him again. She began to cry and beg the gods to let him into Valhalla but not before Ragnar’s only living daughter took his hands softly and told him he needs to work on his temper but she still loved him. When Ubbe and Hvitserk boarded the boat she refused yelling, “He needs us I will not leave our brother and I will not choose between the three of you.” Though his sister began to distance herself after he married Freydis and realized he was a god. She began to pull away from Ivar and with ever pull there was a slide closer to there older brother Hvitserk. Ivar didn’t like it and as king he had to stop it even if that meant going against the gods.

1.Love At First Sight

Okayyy so It Would be the little sister of Scott (cyclops) and Alex(Havok) wich would fall un Love With logan the first Time she sees him☺️(3

1.I never stopped loving you

Billy Hargrove and Y/N Harrington were young and in love many years ago in high school. They broke up because Billy didn’t know his worth. Billy stayed in Hawkins went to a trading school and opened a garage. He even started steadily with a new girl after Y/N never came home at Christmas and then summer. She went to a big college a few states away her way of escaping her family even though Billy always said she was running from him and his messy life. A few weeks after moving to college she finds out the biggest shock of her life. She was carrying Billy Hargrove’s baby. Only one person knew, her twin brother Steve Harrington. Now four years later Billy is engaged and Y/N is finally coming home. What will happen with the two back in town together? 

2.Love Again

After Diana left him he though for sure he would never love again. Then the summer after the Hargrove's moved to town here comes Neil’s eldest daughter. 22-year-old Y/N moves to Hawkins Indiana after college. She pulled up one day to pick Max up from  El’s. The moment Jim swung the door open his breath left his chest. What happens when he hires her as Eleven’s tutor and Jim finds himself falling in love with the young woman. Will Y/N fill the same way? Is this Jim Hopper’s chance to love again or will he get his heart broken again?

MY girl

Nikki and her new girlfriend make it official

1.Two Broken Souls

Y/N is heavier than her friends and suffers from it. They are constantly putting her down. Her parents are constantly fighting at home. Jughead Jones is the loner boy from the wrong side of the tracks. Both are broken and hurting. Will They find Solace in each other or will they both suffer in silence.

2. Death … and new chances

Y/N Andrews's best friend dies and she is opened to a new possibility for her son

1. Together: 

Alex Standall Smut (4)

2. Our kids …..

Y/N Jensen is ready to co-parent with her one night stand 

3. octavia blake x sister reader smut

4. Rebekah mikaelson x sister reader smut

[miraakulous-cloud-district]

Ocs as song lyrics

Thank you so much for the tag @dirty-bosmer and @mareenavee 💖💖 I love this idea so much!

Rambles will be under the cut! Also, I am tagging @thelavenderelf @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @shitty-drawer and anyone else who wants to join in!

For Ravonna, I chose something more angsty and serious, as I'm currently writing the chapters where she will eventually be forced to come face to face with her grief. The song I chose is "The drug in me is you" by Falling in Reverse. This is like her angsty anthem in WYGTYA! The lyrics really represent how she refuses to deal with unpleasant emotions and to always hide behind the "cheery, fun bard" mask. Also, the last line could be an exploration of her feelings towards being the last dragonborn.

I felt the darkness as it tried to pull me down The kind of dark that haunts a hundred year old house I wrestle with my thoughts I shook the hand of doubt Running from my past I'm praying feet don't fail me now!

I've lost my god damn mind It happens all the time I can't believe I'm actually Meant to be here

I've said it once and I'll say it again, "Iris" by The Goo Goo Dolls is Miraak's song! The pining!! The softness!! The suffering!! And these lyrics really fit into his arc of how he wants to get rid of the 'Miraak' persona once and for all because that's not who he is. He doesn't want the world to see him as 'Miraak' because they wouldn’t understand. They don't know what he's been through and how he was forced to join the Dragon Cult and become their leader. He wants people to know who he really is. And he is Fenrik, the healer from Atmora with a heart that is too soft.

And I don't want the world to see me 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand When everything's made to be broken I just want you to know who I am

For my beloved Hjaldir (who *will* be in my fic at some point, I promise), I think that the perfect song is "Slipping through my fingers" by ABBA. As of where the story is now, we don't really know what happened to him. One day he was living at the Emerald Bar Tavern as the bard, laughing and having a great time and going on several trips to High Rock to resupply the Tavern, and the next day, Ravonna’s adoptive father was assassinated, and both her and Teldryn were gone. So they all slipped through his fingers :( But Ravvy's absence hurts the most. He knew her from when she was a little kid. He watched her grow, he's been there for her in all the stages of life.

The feeling that I'm losing her forever And without really entering her world I'm glad whenever I can share her laughter That funny little girl

Slipping through my fingers all the time I try to capture every minute The feeling in it Slipping through my fingers all the time Do I really see what's in her mind? Each time I think I'm close to knowing She keeps on growing Slipping through my fingers all the time

And now for my beloved Dragon Age ocs, because I cannot do this without including them!

For Max Trevelyan, I chose "The little things give you away" by Linkin Park. Wow, I really woke up today and chose angst, but these lyrics really fit with his family and how disapproving they are of him even just for the fact that he exists. And how becoming the Inquisitor and the one with the ability to close the rifts was the best think that happened to him, because he finally cut ties with his family. Really ironic, considering that The Anchor was slowly killing him. BUT HE IS FINE NOW, LIVING HIS BEST LIFE WITH HIS HUSBAND AND HIS ORANGE KITTY.

Don't want to reach for me, do you?

I mean nothing to you

The little things give you away

And now there will be no mistaking

The levees are breaking

And for Aedan Cousland, I went with the angsty option again. I chose this wonderful song called "Burning Daylight" by Dion Cooper and Mia Nicolai. This song could fit with several ocs of mine, but it encapsulates Aedan's feelings towards his dangerous quest and being a grey warden. It perfectly encapsulates the pressure of wanting to be a grey warden to honour his father's deathbed wish, but hating every part of being a grey warden, especially how everyone in the order hid the gory details from him before he joined. He feels like he is running out of time, but he wants to burn daylight, he wants to slow down and just live, while he still can.

From all to zero Where did I go?

Between falling and running I've been trying to get on my feet in time I've never been good at crying Always wanted to be the tough type

I'm sorry, I'm just human I'm losing myself while chasing highs I'm losing myself while chasing highs And burning daylight

[aparticularbandit]

this was supposed to be fluff and ended up having angst oops

it actually was going to go in a really angsty direction and i cut it because nope.  i think i like it better this way anyway.

this was supposed to be a second date alas maybe next time.

really, this chapter should be titled ted fucking sucks or some variation thereof.  maybe on ao3.

eve fletcher x agatha harkness

Eve has done a lot of hard things in her life.

She grew up with a mostly absent father, promised herself her son wouldn’t have to go through the same thing, and then dealt with him dealing with the absence of his father, all while realizing that her own mother probably felt the same way about her as she still does about him.  She’d lived through the unexpected death of her mother, so she’d never been able to apologize for the way she’d treated her growing up, the way she’d blamed her for the divorce, for her father’s disappearance, only realizing later that her mother did the best that she could the way that Eve herself still does the best that she can.  She’d handled her ex-husband’s affair, raged over the woman he’d found on Craigslist, and refused to blame herself for his wayward…everything, refused to forgive him for what he’d done to their son, and refused to let go of her anger at him for betraying her, not just with an affair but with leaving, when he knew how she had grown up.

These sound like small things.  Normal things, maybe.  She would never bring them up in conversation unless they were strictly speaking necessary; she’s never talked about them with Agatha because it doesn’t seem like Agatha wants to be the sort of person she can confide in.  Not like that.  Not really.

She’s living through that, too.

But it’s fine.  Those are past burdens, for the most part, and Eve doesn’t need to share them with anyone.  Certainly not Agatha.  She has Jane, after all, for days like this.  Anniversaries of painful things.

Jane, at least, remembers and checks in and sometimes just takes Eve out for coffee or lunch at their favorite café or whatever the newest movie with some relatively hot guy is.  (Last year, they’d gone to see Professor Marston and the Wonder Women, and Jane had come out of it with wide eyes, apologizing profusely because she’d just thought it would be a cute comic book movie when it was absolutely not a cute comic book movie; Eve had never admitted that she’d secretly loved it.)  This year, they’d probably go see A Star Is Born because Bradley Cooper is hot, Lady Gaga can sing (mostly, although Eve isn’t a fan of her music), and the…technically not the original, because this is the fourth time Hollywood has made this movie – but the last one, with Streisand and Kristofferson, was – and still is – one of Eve’s favorite movies. Of course, the new one could be a right fuck up, but, in the end, at least Bradley Cooper is hot?

She hasn’t told Jane about Agatha yet.  She hasn’t told anyone about Agatha yet because she doesn’t know what she would call her. Brendan knows because he was here, and Amanda must have guessed something, and she doesn’t know what Agatha told her after Eve had grown too exhausted to chat, and that’s just as terrifying as trying to broach the subject with her longest friend, of telling her that maybe, just maybe, she might be…dating…another woman?  Are they dating?  Are they in a relationship?  Or are they just…?

But precisely none of that matters right now.

She and Jane are going to go see a movie, and she’s going to eat way too much popcorn, and when they get to the café afterwards to talk about life and how hot Bradley Cooper is, she’ll have too much coffee and then go back to her house where, for the first time, she will deal with this alone.

…and probably end up inviting Agatha over to distract herself from that.

Agatha can be a very good distraction, and it’s not like Eve won’t reward her for it.

She’s…very good at rewarding Agatha for her time.

She just hates calling it that.

~

can u come over tonite?

Eve’s finger hovers over the button before she clicks send.  Maybe – maybe – she wouldn’t be sending it at all if Jane hadn’t cancelled on her. Something really big had to have happened; Jane had sent her a text about needing to stop by her house to pick up her discount movie mugs (Eve never finished hers and still always needed to pee halfway through the movie) and then called a few moments later to say she wouldn’t be able to make it.  Eve asked what was going on – if there was anything she could do to help – but Jane just….

It felt weird, knowing how honest she had been with Jane all those years ago, how she’d planned to go and hide out at her house for a few days if it wasn’t for Brendan (because she couldn’t abandon her son with him), if it wasn’t for—

Eve shoves that aside and sends another text immediately after the first: i need u.

Barely a minute passes before the response vibrates the phone in her hand, so quick that there are no dots in a bubble to let her know that Agatha is even typing: coming now.  be there soon.

A creeping sense of panic curls like a cat around Eve’s heart, but it succumbs to the wave of numbness washing over her.  Like the panic around her heart, Eve curls on her side, holding a pillow low against her chest, tightening it between her legs, and resting her head just atop it.  The pillow is soft, the softest she has, and it molds against her.

She doesn’t want to get up, but she knows, if Agatha is coming, she needs to prepare.  She needs to be presentable.

….

Agatha was here the entire week she was sick.  Fuck her expectations.  Eve’s not getting up.

….

Okay, she will get up just long enough to unlock the front door and then stumble back to bed and send a quick text: doors open.  Then she curls up into the same position she was in, closing her eyes and waiting.

~

Eve doesn’t move when she hears the front door open, shut, and lock; doesn’t move when she hears the shoes slipped off in the doorway, the soft footsteps down the hall and hitting the creaking floorboard on the steps; doesn’t move when she hears the squealing of her bedroom door.  Something in her tells her this is bad; she should be concerned when someone walks into her house – it could be a murderer!  But a murderer wouldn’t take the time to lock the door behind them or slip their shoes off at the front door.  Besides, she doesn’t have quite the energy

Agatha’s familiar weight presses into her mattress as she lifts her covers and slides in just behind her.  She wraps one arm around Eve’s waist, draws warm against her back, and kisses her neck easy, gentle.  Hey.

Hey.

You doing okay, hon? Agatha murmurs, breath hot on Eve’s neck.

Eve nods, lies.  Mm, she mumbles against her pillow.  Just tired.

You needed me here for tired?

Eve hears it, the actual question underlying everything, or what she assumes it is, and she holds her pillow close against her chest for a heartbeat before releasing it and curving into Agatha, tucking her head just under Agatha’s chin.  I’m sorry.

For what, babe?  Agatha threads a hand through Eve’s hair, pushes some of it back from her face.

I can’t—  Eve swallows, wets her lips.  I didn’t need you for—  She bites her lower lip.  I’ll be better in the morning, if you stay.  I can then, just not…just not now.

Agatha grows still.  She moves back, away from Eve, and Eve’s heart drops.  Then she sets a finger just under Eve’s chin and lifts until she stares directly into Eve’s eyes.  You can call me over for more than sex, dear.  You know that.  She searches Eve’s eyes for something.  Eve doesn’t know if she finds it.  I don’t mind.

Eve doesn’t say anything.  She just nods and buries her head against Agatha’s chest.  Her fingers find the edge of Agatha’s shirt and tighten as she clings to her.  Agatha just holds her to her.  Warm.  Secure. As she relaxes, Eve curls closer to her. She wraps her arm around her tight the way she might with her old stuffed teddy bear, unable to get close enough. Thank you, she murmurs, finally, as she settles.

Any time, hon.  Agatha plants a kiss atop her head.  Any time.

~

Eve doesn’t know how much time passes between when Agatha arrives to comfort her and when she asks the question.  She’s not really keeping track of that.  Instead, she’s been focusing on her own breathing, on Agatha’s steady heartbeat beneath her, on the warmth of Agatha’s breath, on the hands still holding her tightly, gently.  They’ve shifted once or twice, trying to find better positions that don’t lead to their arms growing numb, and eventually Agatha stretched onto her back, guided Eve half atop her.  Eve’s head still rests on Agatha’s chest, slowly lifting every time she takes a breath. Their legs are tangled comfortably together.  Every so often, one of Agatha’s hands lifts to brush through Eve’s hair, to rub comforting circles along her back.

Eventually, though, Agatha asks, Do you want to talk about it, hon?

No.

And that’s it.

Eve expects Agatha to push, the way she often has when something has been bothering Brendan.  It’s not that she’s wanted to intrude on her son’s privacy, of course.  She just wanted to make sure that he was really doing okay.  It’s not….  It wasn’t really pushing, just making sure that he knew, if he needed to talk, that she was there to listen.  Sometimes, when he was younger, it helped because he really did want to talk about it, she just had to find creative ways of getting him there.  Asking again.  Seeing if he wanted to make cookies with her, and then, while they were baking, oftentimes he would just open up.  Tell her everything.

Unless it was about Ted.  He would say that he missed him, sometimes, but as he got older, he stopped saying that. Ted would promise to show up for his hockey games and then never show up and then Brendan would be mad and refuse to talk about it and lock himself in his room because he had to do homework and play music so loud that Eve knew better than to try and intrude.  She couldn’t do anything about that, no matter how much she wanted—

It was our anniversary, Eve says into the quiet.

Agatha doesn’t stop her.

~

Eve remembers everything so clearly.

It was her first day of her first official job at the senior center.  She’d just finished her master’s degree a few months prior, taking classes at Eastern while Ted took care of Brendan and put him to sleep, and while she’d been volunteering at the senior center since high school (it’d been one of her extracurriculars when she’d applied to college all those years ago), she’d never had an official job there before.

Ted had been affectionate when they woke, kissing her with more passion than she’d had from him in a really long time.  At the time, she’d thought that was due to the long hours she’d spent either in class or doing homework, leaving her too exhausted to humor either of them, and when he cited their wedding anniversary as a good reason to start the day off “right”, she’d almost – almost – given in.

Sometimes, even now, Eve wonders what would have happened if she had, instead of laughing and pushing him away, instead of putting her new job over what Ted wanted.  She wouldn’t have been so late.  Ted had never been good at lasting very long, not that she’d said anything about it then.

Brendan, of course, had run into their room just as she was starting to get up, so it probably wouldn’t have changed anything.  In fact, it might have scarred him even more than the divorce had, although he’d been only eight at the time and likely wouldn’t have known what they were doing in the first place.

Her first day hadn’t been everything Eve had expected, of course, but it had been good.  She’d gotten to see a little more of what it was like as an employee and not just a volunteer, gotten to see more of what went on in the background, but she’d already been friends with most of her coworkers.  She didn’t really need all of that get used to your new job stuff because it was like they were paying her for what she’d already been doing.  Sure, sure, there was a little bit more responsibility, a few more duties that they couldn’t trust to general volunteers, but it had been—

Honestly, looking back on it, that was the best part of her day.

Of course, when the other girls had found out it was her anniversary, they’d jokingly chided her about coming in.  They sent her home two hours early, saying they could take over from here, that her real work would start tomorrow, and that she’d better spend some time with her husband while she was still young.  She’d thought about that while she left, humming to herself with the song in the car (The Smiths’s Asleep, which was ironic in hindsight).

Eve hadn’t even considered the car parked in front of their house.  People did that all the time during the day.  it wasn’t like they used that spot.  They had enough room without it.

She’d….

She’d heard them, when she walked through the door.  Heard them, smelled the sweet scent of sex, felt it in the vibrations in the air because it was impossible to ignore it, but refused to—

It was impossible to ignore it when she went to their bedroom and found her husband fucking some girl she’d never met in their bed.

The girl noticed before he did, had pulled up her comforter over her bare chest, had tried to hide against him because—

Because—

~

Eve threw him out.

He tried to explain, but she hadn’t wanted to hear it.

He tried to say that she would want him back later, but she hadn’t wanted to hear that either.

He tried to say that Brendan would wonder where he was, but—

That one almost stopped her, but if he wanted somewhere to stay, he could stay with that fucking whore—

~

The thing was that Eve couldn’t even curl up in her bed to try and make herself feel better because even after shoving all of the sheets and everything into the laundry, it still smelled like them, she still saw them, they still—

She curled up on the couch, unable to stop crying and finding that she didn’t want to.

Eventually, she’d dozed off like that.

~

The phone didn’t wake her up.

The pounding on her door did.

The yelling from Ted that she chose to ignore.

She hadn’t thought about turning her phone on silent, so really, it should have woken her up, and this time when it went off, when she saw the hospital’s number, she answered immediately.

It was unexpected, they’d said.  Her mom had just…collapsed.  They’d rushed her to the ER, but there wasn’t anything they could do.

She was dead by the time she arrived.

~

Eve’s throat grows raw as she lays it out for Agatha.  She doesn’t look up at her, doesn’t want to see her face, doesn’t want to see how she will respond, and when she gets far enough into it, she turns away from her, rolls onto her side, and curls like that, wrapping her arms around herself.  As she continues to speak, Agatha draws near to her again, entwines her arms with Eve’s, and despite all of this, Eve instinctively shivers.

It was the worst day of my life, Eve finishes, and every year, no matter what, I end up like this. It’s so…stupid. I’m so stupid.  She holds tight to Agatha’s arms.  You’d think I’d be over all of it by now, and most of the time, I am, and it’s fine, everything’s fine, it’s just....  It’s just today.  It all hits again.  And I’m like this.

You’re not stupid, hon.  Agatha presses warm against Eve’s back.  That’s as bad as saying I’m stupid for having a hard time with hospitals.  You had a really traumatic day, and—

You’re scared of hospitals?  Eve turns just enough to look at Agatha.  Why?

Agatha sighs.  That’s not important right now, babe.  I—

Eve’s brow furrows as she turns away again.  You took me to the hospital.

Yes, dear, I did.  Because, if you will remember, you passed out—

You stayed with me at the hospital, Eve continues, even though you hate them?

Agatha doesn’t hesitate.  Yes.  Of course. I wouldn’t have just left you there, babe.  You’re worth more than that.

Eve snorts.  Tell that to Ted.  I’m sure he would love to hear it.

I will, if you want.

He won’t believe you.

So?  Agatha’s brows raise; Eve doesn’t have to be looking at her to know what expression she’s wearing right now.  I don’t care if he believes me, hon; I care if you believe me.

You don’t even love me, Eve thinks, hating herself for thinking it. It isn’t true, not really.  Agatha clearly cares about her on some level. Just not the way Eve cares about her. That shouldn’t matter, but it does. She pushes the thought away; she doesn’t want to think about that right now, not when she’s already in a bad place, not when Agatha seems to be trying to get her out of it.

Eve, babe?  Agatha’s voice cuts through her thoughts.  What are you thinking about?

You, Eve admits readily enough.  She doesn’t want to bring it up – she doesn’t – and so she chooses not to.  Mostly.  I feel like I still don’t know anything about you.

What do you want to know?

The question is easy enough, but Eve suspects whatever she asks Agatha will avoid if she doesn’t want to answer it.  She bites her lower lip and then asks, Will you answer me?  Honestly?

Agatha considers this for a moment and then nods slow, her chin pressing into Eve’s shoulder.  One question, babe.  Whatever you want to know.  I’ll answer as honestly as I can.

Multiple questions leap to Eve’s lips immediately.  What am I to you? seems much more open-ended and, worse, Eve isn’t sure she could hear any negative response right now.  She couldn’t bear it.  So as much as that’s the question she wants answered, she doesn’t ask.  She could ask about hospitals again, but she’s not sure she really wants to know.  Besides, it could just be a childhood phobia, and that would waste the question.  Then she hits upon it, something she’d asked before and suspected that Agatha hadn’t been completely honest about.

Where did you get all of those scars on your back?

I told you, babe, Agatha murmurs, pressing her forehead against Eve’s shoulder blades.  I fell.

Into a rose bush? Eve asks, hoping that asking for more clarification doesn’t count as an additional question.  Multiple times?

Agatha chuckles.  No, dear.  I doubt thorns could cause that. Maybe if they were on a whip.

Eve’s brows shoot up.  Were you whipped?

No, no, no. I fell, babe.  Agatha’s tone is insistent, even as she hides her face against Eve’s back.  I collapsed during a performance in New York, and it….  She lets out a low, bitter chuckle.  It didn’t go so well for me.

That answer only causes more questions.  You collapsed? Eve echoes.  In New York? What kind of performance?  Was it like one of those circus tightrope walking things?  Did you fall on a bunch of knives?

Eve.  Agatha tugs the collar of her shirt down so that she can kiss her skin.  One question.  I got the scars from a really bad fall.

But—

Later, babe.  Agatha kisses her skin again.

Eve glances over her shoulder.  What are you doing? she asks. I’m still not in any mood for sex.

I know.  I’m not trying to change your mind, hon.  Agatha shifts upward so that she can meet Eve’s eyes.  I just wanted to remind you how worthy you are.

Eve raises an eyebrow.  Worthy of what, exactly?

Of being loved.

Eve stares at her.  But you don’t love me, she wants to say but doesn’t.  Not like that.  You’ve never said it.  The words catch in her throat.  She doesn’t want the answer.  She doesn’t.  No matter how fondly Agatha is looking at her right now with those eyes so clear and blue, she can’t begin to hope that she’ll get the answer she wants.

She’ll never admit it to herself, but she’s scared that she might.

Instead, Eve turns back to her, captures Agatha’s lips with her own, and relaxes into her.  Agatha responds in kind, gentle and yearning, but not hungry, not desperate. Comforting.  When they part, Eve can’t help but say it again, I love you.

Agatha just smiles, somber and sad.  I know.

[babymetaldoll]

Passive aggressive (Spencer Reid/Reader)

Requested: Yes!

Warnings: Cursing, a little angst, a lot of fluff. Spencer being an asshole.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Category: A little angst with a fluffy ending.

Summary: Spencer and his girlfriend don't know if they will survive their first fight.

Word count: 3.5 K

A/N: Hello my favorite people!! how are you doing? hope you are all safe!  here's a little "angsty" request. I had to pick between Gubler and Spencer, but I think Spencer suits better for this request. Hope you like it!

Masterlist

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

When (Y/N) fell in love with Spencer Reid, she couldn't think of anything wrong about him. Sure, she knew the man had flaws, but honestly, none of those actually bothered her. Not his rambling, not his lack of social cues. Neither his previous trauma nor how he kept moving his hands as he spoke, and how it gradually increased when the subject was about something he loved.

She liked all those things about him.

Spencer ignored all the flaws people pointed out about (Y/N), 'cos he was in love with her. He didn't care that she had a hard time sharing her feelings and that he had to basically profile her to get to know what was, in fact, going on with her. He didn't care that she was a little bossy from time to time, 'cos he loved making her happy.

All those things he could deal with, 'cos he loved everything about her.

But people don't warn you when you are dating for a long while. All those little things that don't matter can turn into a bunch of flaws that start driving you nuts. And after eight-month dating, their perfect honeymoon was over. Spencer Reid and his girlfriend were about to get into their first official fight.

No one prepared them for it.

- "Spencer? Can you help me, please?"- (Y/N) was in his room, folding bed sheets and towels.

- "In a minute!"- Spencer replied and didn't take his eyes from the book he was reading.

- "You said that twenty minutes ago"- (Y/N) frowned and dropped the clean sheets on their bed- "Please, Spencer. I'm tired, and I wanna go to bed. I'd finish folding the clean clothes if you helped me."

- "In a minute."- Spencer repeated and didn't even pay much attention to his girlfriend's annoyed tone of voice until it was too late. She was standing right next to her in the living room.

- "Spencer! Please! Fucking help me now!"- he raised both eyebrows and stared back at her, her cheeks red in anger and her hands clenched into fists.

- "Why are you talking to me like that? I haven't raised my voice to you."

- "'Cos I'm fucking tired, and you've been relaxing here for over an hour, while I do everything in the house, and you don't cooperate!"

- "Excuse me?"- Spencer stood up and took a look around- "Who cooked dinner?"

- "You did! and did you do the dishes? And cleaned the kitchen afterward? 'cos as far as I remember seeing it, it's still a mess!"

- "I'm gonna do it in a minute!"

- "No, you won't! You always do this! You make a big mess, pretend you'll clean it in a minute, and then you just leave it there until I do it!"- Spencer frowned and looked at (Y/N)'s angry face.

- "No, I don't! If anything! I am the one cleaning all the messes you leave around here all the time!"

- "What?!"- (Y/N) shriek, feeling almost insulted- "Which messes are you talking about?"

- "Top of my mind, all the hair you left in the shower! It was fucking disgusting!"

- "What?!"

- "If maybe you used all the freaking bobby pins you keep leaving everywhere, maybe the shower drain wouldn't get blocked!"

- "I didn't block the drain!"

- "And by the way, I told you I was going to help you with laundry. You didn't wait for me to it with you."

- "If I wait for you to help me, I'll run out of clean clothe, and I'll have nothing to wear tomorrow for work."

- "You do have a lot of clean clothing at your apartment! Maybe if you spent some time there, you'd see it. But you are always here!"

(Y/N)'s heart dropped. Since they had started dating eight months ago, they had spent most of their time in Spencer's apartment. She never overanalyzed it. They just did. (Y/N) loved Spencer's apartment 'cos it felt like home, and he always made her feel welcome.

Clearly, Spencer didn't feel the same. Not anymore, at least.

- "Sorry for intruding on your space, Spencer. I just thought you liked having me here!"- (Y/N) whispered with anger, trying not to cry, as she gathered all her things and put on her shoes.

- "I love having you here, but it's my house, and I don't appreciate you bossing me around, telling me what to do, when to do it, and how to do it, all the fucking time!"

Spencer kind of yelled, still mad, and not seeing the painful look in his girlfriend's eyes.

- "Well, enjoy your space. I won't tell you what to do anymore!"- and after those words, (Y/N) stormed out of the apartment, and Spencer sighed, staring at the empty space around him.

How did things get so out of hand? He had no idea. He didn't mean to hurt her, but the truth was that she was smothering him with all the nagging about the housework she kept doing. He didn't want her to do all the chores alone. He just had his own way of doing things, and he hated the fact she was imposing hers.

Could it have been said in a better way?

Yes. But Spencer didn't see that at that minute. He didn't realize how much he had hurt her. Why? Spencer didn't mean wrong, but he had no idea how hurtful his words could be when he was angry. And that night, Spencer was beyond angry.

Now, what's worse than having your first awful fight with your boyfriend? Having your first fight with your boyfriend, seeing him the day after at work, and having to act like everything is ok, 'cos you gave Hotch, your unit chief, your word your relationship wasn't going to get in the way of your work.

Bullshit! Of course, it was going to get in the way. Hotch knew it, (Y/N) Knew it, Spencer knew it. But the three of them pretended they had no idea what was going to happen.

Hotch thought Spencer and (Y/N) were going to be a mature young couple, 'cos he could see how much they loved each other. They had been in love with each other for so long before actually doing something about their feelings. Hotch thought they were never going to have any kind of trouble or argument.

He was so wrong it hurt.

The following morning, (Y/N) walked into the bullpen holding a black cup of coffee and headed straight to her desk. She waved at Emily and JJ and sighed, relieved, when she noticed Spencer was in the kitchenette with Morgan. That gave her the chance to casually ignore him and wait a little before dealing with him.

The truth was, (Y/N) was scared after their fight. She had known Spencer for over seven years, and she knew he had been honest about everything he had told her the night before. Everything. Sure, he yelled and hurt her. He didn't sugar-coat anything when he was mad. But he wasn't lying, and that was scary.

(Y/N) also knew Spencer was very passive-aggressive when he was upset. That was why she knew she had to be the bigger person and avoid him as much as possible while they were at work. Because, whatever she could say about the subject, or related, was going to trigger Spencer.

She remembered when Spencer got mad at JJ when he found out Emily wasn't dead. Spencer was hurtful when he was angry, and you don't want to be the target of his anger.

Spencer reached his desk and noticed his girlfriend was sitting all alone, practically hiding underneath a pile of files. His heart ached, staring at her for a second, fighting back the impulse of walking over and kissing her.

How long since he had kissed her? 14 hours, 17 minutes, 22 seconds. And counting.

But no. Spencer wanted to make a point, and he was still mad. He didn't want to cave in and lose that argument. Yes, it was their first fight, but he wanted to make a point. He didn't want her to boss him around in his own place and change his schedules. He had his own way of doing things. Like Paula Anka and Sinatra said: I did it my way.

Spencer had no idea, but his silence was slowly breaking (Y/N)'s heart more and more. She looked at him for a second, but he paid her no attention. Maybe it was better that way, she thought. She could focus on all the work she had to do.

But no. Of course, it didn't help.

When Penelope walked over and announced they had a case, half the team had already realized there was something wrong with their love bird. Spencer hadn't walked over (Y/N) with her favorite pastry soon after her arrival. She hadn't kissed him good morning. He hadn't spent half of the time staring at her from his desk. If anything, they had been ignoring each other most of the day.

Emily, JJ, and Derek looked at each other when (Y/N) stood up and walked alone to the conference room. Spencer didn't follow, didn't hold her hand. Didn't even look at her. He just gathered his things, put them in his satchel, and waited for a few minutes before standing up, just to make sure he wasn't alone in the room with (Y/N).

It was crystal clear: things were not going right.

Spencer ignored (Y/N) during the briefing at the jet, and he was relieved Hotch had paired him with Emily. (Y/N) focused on the case, and she was also glad she didn't have to see Reid during part of the day. She had to go to the last murder scene with Derek. It was sad and disturbing, but directing her attention to the case gave her a break and even some peace of mind.

- "What happened between you and pretty Ricky?"- Morgan was driving the SUV, and (Y/N) kept her eyes glued to the window.

- "We had a little argue"- she whispered- "Thank you for making me realize we are not subtle."

- "You are not glued to each other. That's weird. I haven't seen you two apart since you joined the BAU."- Derek chuckled and looked at (Y/N). Her arms were crossed on her chest, and her eyes were teary.

- "Wait, pretty girl. It was just a silly argument, right?"- Derek didn't even consider the couple could break up. Ever. For Derek, his best friend and his girlfriend were it for each other.

- "I don't know. I know I have to give Spencer a little space to cool off, but the more I think about it, the worst it feels."

- "But, (Y/N). He loves you. You can't let that go."- she cut him a short smile and nodded.

- "I love him too. Sometimes you wonder if that's enough, though. Maybe it was better for us when we were platonic."

- "You can't be serious"- Morgan frowned, and (Y/N) just shrugged- "Spencer is crazy for you. No matter what he said, he loves you."

Morgan was right. Spencer loved (Y/N) more than he loved himself. But he wasn't ready to let that one argument go just yet. Besides, the doctor focused on work that week. That case occupied 99% of his mind during the next couple of days.

(Y/N) knew that's how he usually worked. And the frustration that the case caused them, plus the anger he still felt after their fight, didn't make a good person out of Spencer. If anything, he was looking for a reason to start an argument with pretty much everyone, especially with (Y/N).

- "We have to consider this unsub is not acting on a fantasy. He is looking for revenge, and he is escalating quickly."- Hotch said, going over the files again.

- "But if the murderer spends time with them in their houses and kills them with something they own, something that actually means something for them, I think we might be looking for a woman. This is too personal, and at the same time, it feels domestic"- (Y/N) analyzed, staring at the latest murderer's scene pictures.

- "Perhaps the Freds didn't help her fold the clean sheets."- Spencer whispered and shook his head. (Y/N) held her breath and stood up. She had to move away from Spencer to avoid answering that kind of comment.

Unlucky for her, Spencer wasn't close to being done. And for the rest of the night, he whispered hurtful comments and kept breaking her heart over and over again. (Y/N) knew Spencer was mad, but she didn't imagine how much. Maybe she had pushed him too hard. What if that was it? If that fight meant the end for them? She was actually scared to ask.

After catching the murderer and solving the case, (Y/N) sat on her own on the jet back home, hugging her legs on her seat. Emily looked at her from behind her book and decided her friend needed some love. She poured a cup of earl grey and walked to her with a warm smile.

- "You are my hero, Emily Prentiss."- (Y/N) whispered and held her cup.

- "Well, it comes with the job. I can read it all over your face: you need tea, a warm bath, and fix things with Reid."

(Y/N) closed her eyes and sighed. Spencer was at the other side of the jet, asleep. Or well, pretending to be asleep just to avoid talking to her. She knew it, and it didn't make her feel better at all.

- "I don't know what happened, Em. But I think this might be it" Prentiss wide opened her eyes at those words and held (Y/N)'s hand right away.

- "No way. He is crazy for you."

- "Yeah, it's funny 'cos Morgan said the same a few days ago. But after this week, I think I actually drive him crazy in a sick bad smothering way. I really think I fucked things up"- (Y/N) was fighting the tears back and looked over the window to avoid human contact, though Emily still held her hand.

- "(Y/N), you have to talk to him. He loves you. He is not good with social cues and facing people. You know that."

- "Yeah, I know. But I thought it was going to be different with me. It's me, it's him. This was supposed to work easily. I guess I was wrong".

- "Nothing worth doing comes easy, (Y/N)"- Prentiss whispered and squeezed her friend's hand- "Don't give up on Spence."

(Y/N) didn't want to give up. But she was scared Spencer had already decided. It looked that way after his cold and mean attitude those days. When the jet landed, she tried to walk to him and talk, but he avoided her and just left.

(Y/N) walked to her car and sat behind the steering wheel. Finally, alone after a rough couple of days, she burst into tears. She was scared and frustrated, and most of all, anxious to know what was going to happen. That was a terrible mix of feelings.

She knew that she didn't want to push Spencer to continue a relationship that might make him miserable. That's why, after taking a few minutes to calm herself down, she texted him.

- "I'm sorry things got till this point. I didn't mean to make you feel so bad. I understand if you want to break up. I'll pick up my things tomorrow."

Spencer felt his cellphone hum as he walked into his apartment, holding a box of tandoori chicken. He thought for a second it might be Hotch with another case, and sighed annoyed just at the thought of missing the chance to relax on his own again.

But when he read it, it was actually worse.

He left the food on the table and read the text over and over again.

What had he done? Why did (Y/N) think he wanted to break up with her? That wasn't his plan at all. He just wanted to prove a point. Not end with their relationship.

Did he push things too far?

Did he act like an asshole?

Did he ruin everything?

Spencer stared at his apartment, and his heart ached. He didn't care if (Y/N) changed everything around. He just wanted her there, with him. Always. He could do laundry whenever she wanted to. He could fold sheets whenever she asked him to. He could be as domestic as she wanted him to be if that meant that she would stay with him.

(Y/N) drove back home. She thought about getting something for dinner, but honestly, all she wanted was to get into her bed and try to sleep. Spencer didn't reply to her text, which somehow surprised her. A part of her was waiting for him to tell her he didn't want to break up. But that silence was the confirmation she didn't want to have: it was over.

The young agent did her best to remain calm as she drove back home. She didn't want to cry. She could listen to Spencer's voice at the back of her head giving her some statistics about people crushing their cars when they drove under emotional distress.

(Y/N) made it to her building, parked the car, and literally dragged herself upstairs. She was about to reach her apartment when she saw him. Spencer Reid, waiting for her, sitting on the floor, his back resting against her door. She froze for a few seconds, looking at him, confused. He stared back at her and held his breath. Her eyes were puffy and red, her face was pale, and yet, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever set eyes on.

- "(Y/N), I'm so sorry."- Spencer whispered and stood up. He walked to her and held her hands. She didn't follow, so she stayed in silence. Spencer lifted her hands until they reached his face and caressed himself with them carefully for a few seconds, tears falling from his eyes.

- "I'm so sorry, I was an asshole."- he murmured and kissed her hands over and over again as he sobbed.

- "Spencer..."- she whispered and stared at him confused- "I'm sorry."

- "No, I am. I was mean to you, and you didn't deserve it. You have to know how much I love you. How deeply in love I am with you. I love spending all my time with you. I don't want you to live twelve and a half blocks away from my apartment. I want you there all the time. Or I can be here all the time. I just... don't want to lose you."

- "I don't wanna lose you either"- (Y/N) managed to say- "I'm sorry I was so bossy and that I invaded your space."

- "No, I'm sorry I was an asshole and so passive-aggressive with you. I love you. I promise I will never act like that again"- Spencer hugged her and hid his face on the crook of her neck. (Y/N) hugged him too and breathed in his smell, feeling at home right away.

- "I missed you so much"- Spencer held her face with both hands and kissed her sweetly, rubbing his lips against her with such love and tenderness, (Y/N) felt her heart skipping a beat.

- "I missed you more"- she sighed into the kiss and held him closer.

- "I swear, I'm never going to hurt you again, buttercup."

- "I'm not going to nag you again. I don't care if you don't fold sheets, chipmunk"- (Y/N) smiled and rested her forehead against his for a moment.

- "You are doomed, (Y/N), 'cos I'm gonna do whatever you ask me to do from now on."- Spencer leaned in and kissed her again, feeling her smiling against his lips.

- "I just want you to be happy with me, Spencer"- she murmured- "I never want to make you feel like I'm invading your space or being bossy."

- "Then move in with me"- he said and smiled like a mad man- "I don't want it to be my apartment anymore. I want it to be ours. Let's find a place for the both of us, so we can make it our home."

(Y/N) stared into Spencer's eyes, and all she could read was his excitement and adoration. So she giggled and nodded.

- "Yes! I wanna have a home with you!"- she answered and nearly started jumping- "Come on, let's go inside so we can start looking for a new apartment. Or a house!"- her excitement was contagious, and it made SPencer chuckle.

- "Or we can have make-up sex first,"- he suggested, and (Y/N) dropped the keys she was holding. "Did you know when we argue, post-powerful hormones are released? The rush of adrenaline, noradrenaline, and testosterone triggers a state of extreme arousal. The perception of threat combined with the influence of the hormones on our brains is what takes us from seething with anger to seething with desire..."

- "I love it when you talk dirty to me, Spencer Walter Reid"- (Y/N) opened the door, and the couple rushed in. They hated to argue, but at least something god had come out of it.

------

Spencer Taglist

@calm-and-doctor @all-tings-diego

[ladydimitrescuspet]

It's Not Your Fault

ao3 link! I was supposed to post this almost 4 hours ago when I posted it on ao3, but I didn't get a break at work! anyway, this is the donna x reader I said I was gonna post for like the last month! sorry if it's shitty, but I hope y'all enjoy it and tell me your thoughts if you want!

warning: minor character death i.e. angie! kinda angsty, kinda comfort!

Tag List (only fill out the form once please): @lord-dimitrescu, @alwaysgoodnight, @paint-it-periwinkle, @lightspica, @ultimatebottom69, @sexyheisenbeast, @crazy-obsessed, @squid3, @inlovewithalcinadimitrescu, @the-obscurity, @sapphicalciee, @ladydimitresculove, @solemnnova, @itsyourgirlmalise, @the-little-shadow, @marvelwomen-simp, @rachelthefanfictionwriter, @d14n4ol, @peachesandlesbians, @celina1221, ｜Anna, @Gansito83, @Followingmyheartledmetoyou, @theuslesslezbian (won't tag, idk why)

-----

“We should garden today, Don. What do you say?” You asked your girlfriend. Donna shrugged her shoulders. “Don, we have to get you out of the house some way today. And I think planting something would be a good start.” It’d only been a week since the incident.

Donna looked at you, her lip trembling. “But An-“

You frowned slightly and cut her off. “We can plant something for Angie too. Place it near where we buried her, yeah?” You offered. She nodded her head and you smiled, albeit sadly. “Good. It’s a plan. I’ll run into the village to get some more supplies, okay?”

Donna’s eyes widened a bit. “No. N-no. Don’t leave.” Donna reached out for you, burying her face in your neck.

“I’m sorry, Donna. How about we go together?” You suggested. You’d forgotten that Donna rarely liked to be in the house by herself without Angie.

You remembered the day you found Donna on the floor of the living room with Angie lying in her arms. You’d rushed over to House Beneviento as fast as you could after you’d seen how ransacked Castle Dimitrescu had been. Your mind immediately went to Donna and while you were glad that she was okay, seeing a lifeless Angie in her arms broke you. Not as much as it did Donna, but nevertheless.

You carefully made your way over the bridge that led to the house, panting slightly as you pushed the door open. “Donna?” You called out. You walked into the house slowly, noticing the black covered figure on the floor. “Donna?” You reached out for her.

“Y/N?” Donna replied softly. She sniffled as you kneeled down on the floor beside her.

You noticed that Donna was holding Angie rather than speaking through her. “Are you okay? What happened, love?”

“I’m fine, But Angie...” She said. “Th-that man, he, he kil-“ Donna cut herself off, not wanting to finish the sentence.

You noticed the pair of bloody scissors next to Donna and noticed the gash on Angie’s head. “Oh, Don, I’m so sorry. I should’ve been here, I’m sorry.” You said into her neck as you pulled her closer to you.

You frowned at the memory. It was the same day Donna had mentioned that something big was getting ready to happen. That that was why Mother Miranda had called all of the Lords to meet at the church. And Donna had told you not to worry about it, insisting that you’d be fine to go to the Castle after your trip to the village. “Go, Y/N. You have nothing to worry about. I’ll see you when you get home from the Castle.” She’d given you that reassuring smile she always does when you worry, and you trusted it. Like the foolish person you were, you trusted your heart and not your instincts.

You shouldn’t have listened to her. She practically forced you to go to the village that afternoon even after you told her you had a feeling that something bad was going to happen. And it did, something very bad did happen. A part of you felt like you should be angry with Donna, she was the reason you weren’t there. But you should’ve stood your ground that day, you should’ve stayed and maybe if you had, Angie would still be alive. It was your fault, not Donna’s, it was all your fault.

Donna shook her head. “It’s not… your fault.” You barely heard those last two words with how softly she said them.

But it is my fault. You thought to yourself. “Is there anything I can do?” You asked.

Donna nodded her head. “I need a, um, shovel.” Donna replied. “And a… a box. For Angie.”

“Okay, we can get those things.” You said. “Should have a shovel in the garden and a box in the shed out back, right?” Donna sniffled and nodded her head again. “Why don’t we… put Angie in her room and we can set up?” You suggested.

“I don-“

You cut her off. “Donna, sweetie, listen. I know this is hard, I know it is. And if I could bring Angie back, I would. I’d give my own life to bring her back. But I can’t. I can’t do that, but what I can do is be here for you. And for Angie.” You swiped at the tears that stung your eyes. “I’m tying to be strong for you, Donny, so I need you to please cooperate with me right now. This will work smoother if Angie is in a safe place while we work.”

Donna grimaced slightly and you noticed her tighten her grip on the doll. “Can we do it tomorrow?” Donna asked.

You let out a small sigh, you were a bit frustrated, but it was her decision, so you nodded your head. “We can bury Angie tomorrow, yes. But it would be a good idea to set everything up tonight so we don’t take away from her day.” You pressed a kiss to Donna’s forehead and Angie’s.

“Y/N? Love, what’s wrong?” Donna asked softly, your face in her hands as her thumbs wiped away your tears. You stared at her in confusion. “You… you started cr-crying. And then you were, um, muttering I’m sorry over and over again.” Donna explained.

You sniffled. “I was just thinking that it’s my fault that Angie’s dead. If I hadn’t gone to the village, if I had trusted myself when I had that horrible feeling that something was going to happen. I could’ve prevented it, I could’ve kept her safe. Maybe it would’ve been me instead, you know? But at least you would still have Angie. But because I didn-“

“Stop that.” Donna said, her tone firm. “It’s not your fault. It’s his fault, not yours. I told you to go to the village that day because I knew he’d come here. I couldn’t… put you in harm’s way like that. And Angie, my precious little girl, she died protecting me. I was her until I realised that I wasn’t.” Donna explained.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“Do you, um, remember what I told you that night? About how a small piece is gone now that Angie is no longer with us?” Donna asked.

You held Donna in your arms as she spoke while the two of you laid in bed. “When my father, Mother Miranda bless his soul, made Angie for me, it was possible one of the greatest gifts that I’d ever gotten. When my parents died, Angie was all I had left. And now that Angie is… gone, a small piece of me is too.”

You nodded your head at her question. “Only a few people know that Angie had a piece of the Cadou within her that connected us.” Donna continued. “And she, she cut off the connection somehow. I couldn’t find her after the first attack and when I did…” Donna trailed off.

You sniffled. “I should’ve been here.” You said. “I could’ve, I could’ve prevented it, Donna. I could’ve.”

Donna shook her head. “If you’d been here, you wouldn’t have actually been here, Y/N. I would’ve been forced to put you under hallucination. It was too risky to have you anywhere near the house and I figured you’d be safe at the castle after you were done in the village.” Donna replied. “Alcina told me that one of her daughters tried to stop you from leaving, but you didn’t listen, you just ran until you got here.”

You did remember one of the daughters, Bela, calling out your name that night. Her grabbing you as you tried to run out of the Castle to get to Donna. “Did I… did I hit her, by chance?” You grimaced when Donna nodded her head. “Oh Gods, I didn’t remember that until just now. I should go apologise.”

Donna gave you a small smile. “After the trip to the village?” Donna asked. She rubbed her hand down your arm. “We should get seeds for a sweet pea flower to plant by Angie, those were her favourite." Donna said.

You nodded your head. The trip to the village for the supplies was fairly short. When you got back home, you let Donna set everything up while you apologised to Bela over the phone, promising to do something with her sometime soon.

"Bela said hi and she, um, she sends her condolences. The whole family does." You pressed a kiis to the top of Donna's head when you reached her side. "She also said that her and her sisters made something for you."

"That's sweet of them." Donna replied softly. You hummed. "I'm glad we got the potted plants and the seeds, it looks beautiful, don't you think?" Donna asked.

You nodded your head before crouching down in front of Angie's grave. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you and Donna. Rest easy, angel." You pressed a kiss to your fingers and push them lightly against the gravestone.

Donna wrapped her arms around you, leaning into your side when you stood up. "It wasn't your fault, Y/N." Donna said, pressing a chaste kiss to your shoulder.

"I know, Don, but the least I can do is apologise to her." You wrapped your arm around her waist, leading her back inside. Apologising was all you did when you visited Angie's grave. It was all you could do for her, really. It wasn't much, but it also wasn't nothing. And if it eased you to do so then Donna could accept that from you and she did.

[ocean-blue-whump]

10 - Ian

(Happy!AU - The Kidnapping Arc -> Shattered Diamonds)

The very angsty arc of the Happy!AU where Dany never gets forced to marry Ridley Lordin and follows in her father’s footsteps as a crime lord, Lorenzo Whitlock never becomes Sunny, and their one-night stand at the Bahamas leads to a happy, loving marriage. This is a collaboration with @justplainwhump , Dany is her character.

Thanks for your patience in getting this part out! Hope it’s worth the wait. 

Dany Masterlist || Sunny Masterlist

[Part 1] [Previous] [Next] [Masterlist] [Ao3]

Tagging both the Dany crew and the Sunny crew! @ashintheairlikesnow @whumpinggrounds @whumptakesthecake @whumpfessional @winedark-whump @painful-pooch @distinctlywhumpthing @whumping-on-the-ridge @queenofthenoobs @hackles-up @whumping-newbie @just-horrible-things - let us know if you want to be added or removed from this tag list.

CW: 18+, EXPLICIT NONCON, derogatory language, degradation, forced to watch, lady whump, BBU (not pet whump but “boxies” are discussed), whumper POV, very brutal, please heed the warnings. 

***

Ian can hear the noises all the way in the other room. Adam moaning loudly and talking in a low, aroused voice, skin slapping together, someone kicking a table leg, and the Hammond bitch screaming and crying. Fucking finally. He’s been wanting to do that for so long. 

Normally, he wouldn’t let Adam fuck the hostage, especially not on location. But if he wanted Danielle to be destroyed completely—well, sacrifices must be made. He heard the husband scream at first, he hasn’t heard anything else. 

That scream…Ian wishes he had it recorded so he could play it over and over in Danielle’s ear. Make her relive the moment her husband broke until she lost her mind. 

He hears another particularly pathetic cry from Danielle and laughs. This has been an amazing day. Sure, the Hammond bitch hurting Jonah was unexpected, and Fitz took a risk pulling back the slide while the gun was in the husband’s mouth. If he had killed him…the Hammond bitch wouldn’t have cooperated. But it all worked out in the end.

Danielle Hammond is breaking for him, watching her husband get fucked like an animal. 

She’s been a fucking thorn in his side ever since she stepped into power. She’s good at her job, that’s the problem. That, and the fact that she’s a pretentious little bitch who sits there in her fancy corner office and parades around important meetings dressed to the nines with her nose turned up, sometimes with her husband on her arm like a trophy prize. 

Good for you, bitch. You managed to fuck him stupid enough to marry you. 

At least Ian could have some semblance of respect for her father. He worked hard. Danielle was raised in a fucking palace, surrounded by bodyguards, and anyone who dared call her a slut for fucking those bodyguards got knocked off. 

Stupid daddy’s girl. She’s in the big leagues now. She should know better than to be emotionally connected to someone, especially someone so useless as her husband. Even his muscles, his defined abs, are just pretty decoration. 

Danielle is nothing but a spoiled bitch who keeps her husband among her prized collection of hitmen and preppy tennis clothes. She hasn’t had to do a damn thing to get everything she has. 

That stupid fucking cunt. Her father was a major detractor of Ian’s business, too, but at least he wasn’t so blatant about it. He should just make both of the Hammonds pets and call this done with. 

“Fuck!” Adam is yelling. “Fuck, yeah, diamond boy.”

Sounds like his cue. Time to see how much more he needs to push the Hammond bitch before he gets what he wants.

Ian walks back into the room, smiling. The sight before his eyes is…magnificent. The husband, still bent over the table, cum and blood between his thighs, teeth marks on his back. The Hammond bitch, face red from crying, made into an utter wreck and barely held upright. Ian’s day just keeps getting better and better. "How'd that go for everyone?" 

Adam pulls out of Lorenzo, wiping himself off with the stupid apron they found him in. "Great, boss." 

Ian stalks over, completely ignoring Dany, to stare at Lorenzo. He looks fucked out, he's not even there anymore. "Shit. You fucked everything out of him." 

Adam grins lazily. "I'm thorough." 

Dany wails into Fitz's hand, kicking desperately at the two men holding her. Fitz rolls his eyes. "She's been doing this the whole time. Fucking bitch." 

"You can let her go now. I'm sure she'll be good and quiet knowing that Adam would love to go round two. Do you think Mr. Hammond would look good, gagging on your cock?" Ian knows exactly what the words do to Dany, the angry glare he gets in response for his words. 

"He looked good gagging on a gun." Adam shrugs. "I think it's worth a try." 

Fitz and Andrey step back from Dany, but she doesn't move from her spot. 

Ian circles to the back of Lorenzo. "You tore him," he says, watching blood and spend slide down Lorenzo's thighs. "Think that'll ruin the sale price?" Ian doesn't wait for an answer, seeing how Dany shudders. "Why don't you give me a product review, Adam? Tell me all about WRU's potential new recruit." 

It's amazing how the man bent over on the desk doesn't even react to what Ian's saying. He just lies there with empty, hollow eyes, occasionally whining like an animal. Ian grabs him by his hair and lifts his face up towards Dany's. He doesn't fight back, Ian can pull him around every direction he wants. Pliant. Dull. And he's not even a boxie yet. 

"Oh, with pleasure, boss." Adam walks over, cupping Lorenzo's ass with his hand. "This is almost good enough to seal the deal alone. See?" He brings his hand down, and both men watch the skin ripple with the blow, turning red in the shame of a handprint. "He's got quite the ass. WRU should list that as his main feature on their webpage. I'd buy him just for that."

Dany stiffens as Adam walks closer to her, but all he does is shove his fingers in Lorenzo's mouth and smile at her. "He's not loud enough for me, but I can imagine that when he's not floating off to Neverland, he's quite a vocal slut." 

Ian chuckles. "You think they can train that out of him?" 

"For how much these things cost? WRU can do almost anything." Adam pulls his hand out of Lorenzo's mouth, wiping the saliva off on Dany's shirt. She flinches away from him, her tears dry on her cheeks. "I've already tested his mouth with the gun, as I'm sure his wife remembers, but that was a very positive experience." 

Ian nods. "Not a biter?" 

"Nah. He's a sweet, pretty toy. Aren't you, diamond boy?" Adam slaps Lorenzo's ass again, and he whimpers, but doesn't resist, doesn't try to pull away from Ian's hand keeping his head up. 

Ian looks to Fitz, who's watching Adam eagerly, and Andrey, who looks a little sickened. His eyes narrow. Maybe Andrey will have his own reckoning with a gun, once this business is over. Can't trust people who aren't on board with his decisions. 

"Now," Adam says, leering at Dany. "Let's talk about how good he felt on my cock. I don't know much about his sex life--obviously I know he's a slut--but damn. He's tight. He tore on the first thrust, but it made the friction a little less. And I like my men bloody. He's perfect, though. Like he was made for taking cock." 

"I looked over their house," Fitz says. "This bitch gives him free rein. Lets him read and write, go grocery shopping." 

Adam shakes his head. "It's a waste. She's wasting him. Something this good should be kept tied up to be used all the time." 

"She does keep him collared," Ian says. "I'm sure it's not all the time, but he seems to know his place." Ian's never been one for fucking his captives, but he's a little turned on by Lorenzo's eyes. There's nothing there. Not a single spark in that ocean blue. Like it's all been sucked out of him, like the sea after a storm.

"My final rating would be a nine out of ten," Adam says, shoving a finger into Lorenzo and relishing in Dany's horrified whimper. "Tight, pretty, nice ass, but too quiet. I know it's cliche, but I like the boxies that ask for it, that are all slutty and loud. Once he decided to let his brain get fucked out of him, he was just silent. If I'm paying for a boxie, I want him moaning so loud they can hear it two counties over." He pulls his finger back out, covered in blood and cum, and wipes it on the apron. 

Ian switches his grip to hold Lorenzo by the collar, shaking him around. "Lorenzo," he calls. 

No response. 

"Yeah, he's too far gone." He yanks the man back, throwing Lorenzo's naked body onto the concrete floor. Dany cries out as Lorenzo whines in pain from his dislocated shoulder. 

"He's a waste," Adam says. "Finally, we got his wife to destroy him like he was meant to be. You hearing me, Hammond bitch? This is all your fault." 

Ian slides the laptop back in front of Dany and opens it. "Make the cargo arrangements." Adam kicks Lorenzo in the ribs; Dany flinches more than he does. 

Ian smiles. He's got them exactly where he wants them. Pretentious bitch Danielle Hammond, a crying, scared mess. She shouldn't have played with fire, she should have left that to the professionals. She can walk around showing off her daddy's money all she wants, it doesn't matter when her husband is a whore and she's doing exactly what Ian wants. His day couldn't be going better. "Just make the arrangements and I'll let you clean him up before Adam gets horny again." He turns away. "For the record, Danielle, fourteen days is perfectly fine."

[girlwiththereapertattoo]

begin again - part three

Jax Teller x female!Reader

Summary: Y/N and Jax grow closer... I don't know what else to say without revealing spoilers haha

Word count: 4k words

Warnings: very bad language, mentions of blood, physical & verbal abuse, angsty & some fluff

Author's note: I appreciate all the positive feedback I've received this far! It's much appreciated :) also, I'm bad at writing these summaries

If you’re in an abusive relationship or you suspect that someone you know is being abused, speak up and reach out to the correct people!

Beta read by @crucifixedbitch

PART ONE | PART TWO

💀💀💀💀💀

He’s late. The thought brings about a familiar uneasiness and your mind conjures images of a bloodied Jax lying unconscious in some dingy ditch. Jesus Christ.

“Mommy, why did you stop reading?”

S/N’s soft voice draws you back to reality. You look over to his bed where he’s laying beside Abel. “Did I stop reading?”

He giggles, “Yep.”

Oh. You look down at the book in your hand then back up at the boys. “I’m sorry, ace. I guess Mommy’s a bit tired.” And apparently, she’s distracted. You look back down at the book, willing yourself to remember your place.

“Cooper the Cat was stuck in the tree,” he reminds you.

“Right, Cooper the Cat!” your eyes hastily skim through the short paragraphs until you land at the right sentence. “Got it. ‘Help!’ cried Cooper from the tree…”

And just like that, all thoughts of Jax and his safety are shoved to the back of your mind to deal with at a later time. It’s your lucky day today, the boys have had a long day and they’re out before you reach the end of the book.

“I love you, ace,” you whisper to your son after you’ve kissed him goodnight.

It’s because of your love for S/N that you left Jax and the endless bullshit that comes with him. Anxiety-filled nights like this one are a thing of your past and you know you can’t allow yourself to be consumed by thoughts of him. Once you start, there’s no stopping you. You know this, very well, so why is there a sick feeling twisting in your gut? Because a small part of you is still in love with your ex.

Hope blooms when your phone vibrates in your pocket but it’s only B/N. It’s not that you’re not happy to see your boyfriend’s name on your phone screen, but the anxiety’s gnawing at your mind, and you’re desperate for it to be put to sleep. Fortunately for you, B/N’s in high spirits. He’s been frustrated with you lately, and wants you back in Charlotte — his insecurities about Jax are beginning to show.

It’s for that reason that you don’t tell him about S/N’s friendship with Abel.

“This time next week, you and S/N will be back home,” he muses.

“Yeah, we both can’t wait.” You feel disappointed at the realization, “It feels like forever, doesn’t it?”

And S/N has been asking about B/N more and more these days but you don’t tell that to him, afraid that he’ll catch the earliest flight to California. Truthfully, you’re not exactly ready to let Jax out of your life which you’ll be forced to do if B/N’s in Charming. You see, he’s… protective and doesn’t like the idea of you hanging around men. Especially Jax. Hell, he almost stopped you from attending your own mother’s funeral.

Of course, it was under the guise of being the protective boyfriend. “Are you sure it’s safe for you to be in the same town as your violent biker ex?” He said all the right things and did everything in his power to talk you out of the decision but in the end, he failed to convince you to stay away.

“Goodnight, I love you.”

You hang up just in time to hear Jax’s motorcycle pull up out front. The relief is quickly overshadowed by concern when you open the door and are greeted by a bloody-faced Jax.

“I’m late.”

“I’m more concerned about that gash on your brow. Come in.” You open the door wider, “If you’re here to get Abel, he’s asleep. You can fetch him in the morning.”

“Shit.” You step aside to allow him access into the house, “I’m sorry, Y/N, I got caught up in Oakland.”

“It’s fine. S/N was happy to have Abel stay the night.”

He smiles, “Thank you.”

You return his smile, “We should clean that before it gets infected.” Before you can process your actions, you’re leaning closer to take a better look at the cut. “I can’t see much, you should rinse it with water. I’ll go grab the first aid kit.”

“It’s late, I’ll have Chibs take care of the cut.”

“Meet me in the kitchen,” you start for the bathroom, “rinse the cut.”

You grab the first aid kit from the bathroom and find Jax sitting at the breakfast table, pensively staring into space, a half-drunk bottle of water sitting in front of him.

“Here.”

Your voice pulls him from his reverie. His eyes drop to the pill container in your hand and he arches a brow.

“It’s for the pain.”

“Thanks.” He accepts the pills and pops the cap open, “I should’ve called.”

“It’s fine.” You do your best to keep a casualness in your voice when you ask, “What was happening in Oakland? Is everyone okay?”

He gazes at you for a long while before he responds, gauging where your head is at. “Yeah, we’re all fine.”

“Should I be worried?”

He slowly shakes his head, “No.”

You watch him take the pain medication, there are so many questions to ask, questions only Jax has answers to.

“Is it safe for you to be here?”

He swallows the pills and smiles, “I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t safe. Don’t worry, you and S/N are safe.”

Hesitantly, you nod as you pull a chair from the table. In a bid to lighten the mood, you tell him, “No offense, Jackie, but you look like shit.”

“I feel like shit,” he chuckles.

You take your seat in front of him and suppress the urge to smile, “Who punched your handsome mug?”

“I was pistol-whipped.”

“Ouch.” Scooting forward in your chair, you lean towards Jax to get a better look at the rinsed cut, and for a very brief moment, your eyes lock with his before they dart up to his cut. “It’s like the good ol’ days, isn’t it?”

“You playin’ nurse?”

“Yeah.”

Back in the day, nights like these were common. Jax would sit at this very table, at the very chair he’s sat on, whilst you tended to his cuts and bruises. Mother would be sitting in the living room, hurling insults at both you and Jax. She would take any chance to remind you that you were making a mistake you would regret for the rest of your life.

“Your mom hated me.”

Your eyes lock with his, “In her defense, you would always be finding ways to antagonize her.”

And in return, your mother would call Jax all kinds of names but even that wouldn’t keep him away. Nothing ever could keep him from you. Memories of Jax sneaking into your room late at night come to mind. “I had to come kiss my girl goodnight,” he’d tell you.

“We were pretty wild back then,” you reminisce.

And you were madly in love with each other, however, you keep that part to yourself. The situation’s complicated enough without the added layer. You’ve barely mustered the courage to mention B/N’s existence to Jax because, in all honesty, you’re not quite sure how he might react to another man raising his son. The thought of his reaction fills you with dread. Heaven knows he’ll give you a hard time about leaving next week.

Gah, it’s all too much! With a shake of your head, you dismiss all thoughts and grab the ointment from the kit. “Shall we?”

He nods and shuts his eye for you to apply it on the cut. A silence descends upon the kitchen and neither of you makes an effort to fill it.

“You’re good to go,” you announce once you’re done.

“Thanks.”

“I couldn’t risk it getting infected.”

More than anything, you don’t want S/N to see Mommy’s friend sporting cuts on his face. He’ll ask questions, probably mention it to B/N, and you’re not looking to have that drama in your life.

“Are you hungry? I’m assuming you haven’t had your dinner…”

“Nah, but I should get going.”

Your mood deflates at his announcement. The truth is you don’t want him to leave but how do you stop him without giving him the wrong idea? Why are you even stopping him from leaving?

“Stay,” you blurt out.

“Stay?”

“Yeah, there’s the guest bedroom. It’s late and you’re medicated and you shouldn’t be driving and–”

“I have nothing to wear.”

“Sure you do.” You take a breath to compose yourself, “I was cleaning out the closets the other day and I found some of your old stuff. They’re clean, I uh, washed them. Everything is oversized, they should still fit you.”

You had intended to take them to Goodwill and you will but right now, Jax needs them.

“Look, I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

It isn’t a lie but it isn’t the full truth. Honestly? You just want him near you. It’s wrong, and you understand the implications and know that B/N won’t be happy should he find out, but one night wouldn’t be harmful to anyone, right? Besides, he’ll be sleeping in the guest bedroom.

He thoughtfully considers your proposition. After a stretched silence, he reluctantly accepts your offer.

“Great,” you perk up, “I’ll warm up your dinner.”

You make some conversation over dinner, none of the heavy shit, mostly catching up on all you’ve missed in the four years you’ve been away. He tells you about the club, and that Opie met someone and they’re now married.

“And how about you? Is there anyone special in your life?”

He doesn’t answer your question, not that you expect him to. You just can’t help but be curious. After dinner, he heads over to the bathroom to take his shower whilst you load the dishwasher and dig through the laundry to look for Jax’s old t-shirts and sweats. The guilt sets in and you fight the urge to call B/N to tell him about Jax.

You’re dialing his number when you stop yourself. “Geez, Y/N!” you toss your phone into the laundry basket and step back to create distance between you and the device. Think about this. The last thing you need is B/N bulldozing into Charming and starting shit with Jax and the M.C. — that could be fatal. No, Jax staying the night is you helping out an old friend, there’s nothing more to it.

Grabbing the folded pile of clothing, you make your way down the hall to the guest bedroom and find Jax waiting patiently on the bed for you. Nothing but a towel tied around his waist.

“I should’ve knocked, I’m sorry.”

He rises off the bed and that’s when you get a clear view of his torso, and the tattoo inscribed on his ribcage.

“You’ve proved your point, Jax, now let’s go.” “No, why?” You look over your shoulder to the big, tattooed man standing over by the counter, laughing at whatever joke he’s just been told. You’re at some grimy tattoo parlor, somewhere in Reno, and Jax’s about to get your name tattooed on his body. His ribcage to be exact. The sentiment is sweet, you admit, but it’s a permanent decision, and you’re only 17. You look back at Jax who’s now laying shirtless on the tattoo chair, “Do you realize how insane this is?” He smiles brightly as he shakes his head. “Do you have a death wish? Gemma’ll kill us both when she sees this.” Part of her rage will be due to the fact that it’s your name on his ribcage instead of hers. “And what if they find out we’ve lied about our age?” “Babe, will you relax? They won’t, this place is a dump.” Which is exactly why he shouldn’t get his first-ever tattoo done here. “There’s no talking you out of this, huh?” “No.” He laces his fingers with yours and raises your hand to press a kiss to its back, “This is what I want to do. I don’t care what my mom thinks.” “And the pain? You don’t care about that either?” He shakes his head, “No.” You glance at the stencil transfer on his ribcage and sigh. “I know you don’t have to do this–” “I want to do this.” “And there’s clearly no talking you out of this.” “Yeah.” You squeeze his hand and flash him a reassuring smile, “Do you want me to hold your hand?” His smile returns, brighter than ever, “I’d appreciate it, darlin’.” “You’re insane, you know that, right?” He nods. “Only because I love you.” You lean over to lock your lips in a kiss — you don’t doubt it for a second.

You pry your eyes from his torso, forcing yourself to face the now smirking Jax. Right, his clothes!

You hold out the pile to him, “Did you put your clothes in the hamper?”

He accepts them and murmurs ‘thanks’ before he responds to your question. “Yeah, just like you said.”

“Okay,” you fight off the urge to look down at his ribcage. He kept it. “I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight Jax.”

Spinning on your heels, you scurry out the room before you do something you’ll regret later.

💀💀💀💀💀

“Mommy! Come see!”

S/N and Abel’s laughter sounds from the living room. Saturday mornings have always been your favorite. Sleeping in is always a winner in your books, a vital part of any Saturday routine, and once you’re up, B/N takes S/N out of the house whilst you prepare breakfast. Last weekend was S/N’s first Saturday away from B/N and he was miserable. This Saturday is different.

“Mommy?” More laughter sounds, “You will miss it!”

Lowering the heat, you abandon your cooking and make your way over to the living room. A slouched Jax is taking up most of the three-seater with S/N and Abel on either side of him, all three pairs of eyes fixed on the television screen.

“What’s got you laughing so much, ace?” You take a seat on the armrest and press a kiss to the top of your son’s head. “Beaky Buzzard?”

“Yeah.” He looks up at you, “Are you coming to sit with us?”

“No, Mommy’s got to make breakfast.”

You’d like nothing more than to stick around and watch cartoons with them but there’s breakfast to prepare. When you walk back into the kitchen, you discover your phone vibrating on the counter and you just know it’s B/N. It’s his fifth attempt in the last half-hour, probably looking to speak to S/N, but that just isn’t a good idea. Not when Jax is in the house. You’re being deceitful to both parties, but the timing just isn’t right.

B/N would lose it if he found out about Jax’s regular visits, and you don’t know how Jax would react to B/N’s existence in your life and the role he plays in your son’s life. It would ruin a perfectly good morning. The day got off to a good start with the news of the sale of your childhood home, and your son’s mood is the best it’s been all week. Why would you even think to ruin it by starting trouble with B/N?

It’s not worth it. You’ll just have to come up with a story to tell him later.

“Breakfast is served!”

The boys come barreling in and take their places at the breakfast table. You assist the two youngest boys to plate up their food before you plate up for yourself. Everyone digs into the food, and the compliments you receive are a definite boost for the ego. You listen intently as S/N and Abel excitedly recount the Looney Tune episode they’d watched earlier and S/N’s beside himself with laughter.

The happy moment is disrupted by the unwelcomed vibration of your phone on the counter.

“Is that Daddy calling?”

Shit! You wince at the name ‘Daddy’. It’s what S/N always calls B/N but somehow, it doesn’t feel right when Jax’s sitting across the table from him.

“Mommy?”

“Yeah, ace?” you look over to him, very aware of Jax’s eyes burning into the back of your head.

“Is that Daddy calling?”

“No, it’s probably the estate agent.” It’s not a convincing lie, but you’re caught off guard and can’t come up with something better. “She’s calling about the house.”

“When is Daddy calling?”

“Probably later.” You hate that you’re being so dismissive. “We’ll call him after Abel and Jax leave, okay?”

He looks like he might ask another question, maybe press for a better answer, but he resumes eating his food. You avoid Jax’s eyes for the remainder of breakfast. He helps you clear the table and load the dishwasher in painful silence. Once Jax has helped you load the dishes, he leaves you alone in the kitchen. Can the morning get any worse? Apparently, it can. You unlock your phone to find multiple texts from an irate B/N.

He didn’t take kindly to you ignoring all ten of his calls. Shit. You’re on the verge of tears when Jax saunters into the kitchen.

“Abel and I are leaving.”

You nod, unsure of how to respond. “You’ll ride on your bike with Abel?”

“No. Ratboy’s waiting out front with the van.”

“Ratboy?”

“The new prospect.”

“And will we see Abel tomorrow?”

His impassive expression says it all. Your gut twists with anxiety at the thought of not seeing Jax again before you leave Charming. How do you make this right?

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He slowly shakes his head. Just then S/N and Abel sprint into the kitchen, bustling with energy. Abel hugs you goodbye before the boys run back out of the kitchen and out of the house onto the front yard.

“I’m leaving my bike here. I’ll come by to get it later.”

“Cool. Yeah, that’s fine.”

You walk Jax out, and just like he’d said, Ratboy is waiting out front in a black van. Together with S/N, you watch Jax and Abel climb into the van and drive off.

“Can we call Daddy now?”

“Yeah, let’s go,” you lift him up and carry him towards the house. “Did you have a good time with Abel?”

He nods his little human head, a bright grin plastered on his perfect face. Once inside the house, you dial B/N’s number but he doesn’t pick up, in fact, it seems his phone’s off. Strange.

“I think his phone’s off, ace.”

His face falls. In an effort to brighten his mood, you suggest driving over to the playground.

“When is Abel coming back to play?”

You inwardly sigh. It looks like today’ll be one long ass day.

💀💀💀💀💀

The last person you expect to find standing on the other side of your front door is B/N and yet here he is, and he looks anything but pleased with you. Oh, shit. Your heart sinks at the sight of him, the chill of fear coursing through your body, and your mouth dries.

“B/N?”

His unsettling smile causes the hairs on the back of your neck to raise. “Hi, Toots. Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

Your movement’s robot-like as you step away from the door to make way for him. He walks past you, and once inside, his eyes search around the small space.

“Are you home alone?”

You seem to have forgotten how to speak.

“Toots?”

“S/N… He’s, uh… He’s asleep.”

He murmurs a soft ‘good’ before he turns around to pull you into an embrace. For a moment, you stand frozen, your brain seized up and you feel like a foreigner in your own body.

“What’s the matter, Toots? You don’t look too happy to see me. Were you expecting someone else?”

Yes. “No.” Moving one arm at a time, you return B/N’s embrace and do your best to calm your nerves. You’ve done nothing wrong, he’s not going to hurt you, you repeat over and over until he releases you from his hold. “I just wasn’t expecting you to come all this way.”

“It’s only a five-hour flight.”

Why the fuck are you here?

As if he read your mind, he tells you. “I missed you guys so much, I thought I’d surprise you,” with a tight smile, he adds, “You’re not very good at answering my calls.”

“I’m sorry.”

B/N hauls his luggage from the porch and dumps it onto the floor before he makes his way over to the living room. You follow slowly behind him, watching as he settles onto the couch and searches for the television remote.

“C-can I get you anything?”

“Join me,” it’s an order.

You drag your feet over to the couch and take your place next to him. Casually, he slings an arm over your shoulder and forcefully pulls you into his side.

“There. Now you’re close.”

You can’t bring yourself to fake a smile. Too petrified. He presses a kiss to the side of your head and whispers into your ear to relax.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

He’s told you that lie far too many times in the past.

“Are you enjoying being back in Charming?”

You nod, the words caught in your throat.

“What are you? Mute? Use your fucking words, Toots.”

“It’s good to be back.” Your voice is shaky, barely recognizable. “I missed it here”

His fingers start stroking up and down your upper arm. “Good.”

Your eyes fix on the blank television screen in front of you.

“Is he here? Is he hiding in one of the rooms?”

“Who?”

“Your white trash biker ex!”

You jump up, surprised by him raising his voice so suddenly. “Jax? No! Why would he be here?”

“You lying piece of shit,” he spits out, shoving you away from him, the force sending you to the ground. “I saw his bike parked out front. I’ll ask you again, is he here?”

“No, B/N,” tears fill your eyes, you know exactly what’s to follow but still, you plead, “Don’t do this here. Not now, please, baby.”

“Shut up!” He raises to his feet, towering over you, and kicks at your trembling frame. “No one’s touched you, why the fuck are you crying?”

“I’m sorry.” You swipe the tears from your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, baby. I don’t… I don’t know whose bike that is.”

“Are you cheating on me, you whore?”

Frantically, you shake your head.

“I said use your fucking words.”

You bring a trembling hand to your mouth to muffle your sobs.

“I asked you a question, you dumb bitch!”

“No. No. No.” You crawl over to him, closing the distance between you. “I’d never, baby. Never ever.”

“That doesn’t explain why a bike’s parked outside your house.”

“B/N, please,” you plead softly. “S/N’s asleep, we can do this another–”

The words are lost when he harshly grabs your face and shoves you onto your back. Both hands cover your mouth to muffle your pained cries. He’s vicious, and tonight, he’s out for blood.

“Get up, you–”

Knock, knock, knock! You’ve never been more relieved in your life. B/N shoots you a warning glare, daring you to make a move. A few moments later, the knocks sound again, a little louder this time around.

“Y/N?”

It’s Jax. You are faced with two decisions: do you call for Jax to help you or do you take your deserved punishment?

“Y/N?” he knocks louder. “Are you in there?”

You’re sobbing so much, your body’s trembling. B/N kneels beside you, placing two additional hands over the ones already covering your mouth. His additional weight pushes your head further into the hard ground, causing your head to hurt. It’s sure to leave a bruise. With a final knock, Jax gives up and some moments later, you hear his motorcycle ride off. Once he’s certain Jax’s left, B/N removes his hands.

“Why is he here at this hour?”

“I don’t know.” You gasp when he wraps his hand around your neck and applies pressure, making it difficult for you to breathe. “B/N, please…”

“You’ll regret cheating on me,” he murmurs softly before his hand connects with your cheek in a hard slap.

💀💀💀💀💀

PART FOUR

tag list:

@princesssterek @derangedcupcake @furiouscopshepherduniversity @crucifixedbitch @holl2712 @sweet--catrastrophe @marvelsmylife @brittjulianne97

[pascalpanic]

hi i love ur writing so much!! can i request something with mutual pining, denial of feelings, idiots-to-lovers, hurt/comfort/angst , maybe some jealousy and fluff and smut if you want i just need something really angsty with javier peña, frankie m or din djarin?? tysmm!!!!!

The Bantha (Din Djarin x f!Reader)

Summary: Being an animal lover does not work well with the plans the Tuskens and Mos Pelgo citizens have to kill the krayt dragon. A retelling of S2E1 of the Mandalorian: The Marshal.

W/C: 4.4K

Warnings: talk of animals being harmed/dying, lots of arguing and angst, Vanth kind of is gross bc I hate his character aha, we respect the Tuskens in this house and use proper terminology for them, language, tiniest mentions of alcohol

A/N: Not gonna lie, the idea for this fic came to me pretty quickly but it took me a long time to properly figure it out. Lots of drafting and editing so THANK YOU to my beta readers, you’re all the best ever!! Anon, I’m so sorry this took so long but I hope it’s worth it!

Of all the dilemmas you’d expected to face as you traveled the galaxy with a tiny, Force-sensitive, 50-year-old toddler and a Mandalorian with the emotional capacity of the earlier-mentioned child, the last one you’d ever predicted you’d face had to be the challenge of ridding a tiny desert town of a giant sand beast that eats their banthas.

“You are so fucking dense,” you groan as you and Din settle on a speeder bike, the little green child tucked in a wrap on your chest. “You’re a Mandalorian, a battle-worn bounty hunter with a kill streak probably in the thousands, and some random man asks for your help and not only do you fucking freely give it, you decide to help them kill the sand dragon terrorizing their town.” You groan to him, rubbing your temples.

Din nods and starts up the speeder bike. “You don’t need to summarize what we just lived through,” he grunts and you wrap an arm around him.

“I do, because I need to clarify that your dumb ass would do that. Sometimes I really do think you don’t have a brain under that beskar bucket,” you shake your head, trying to keep the anger that you’re feeling. If you’re not careful, it’ll turn to adoration and love.

You’ve been battling your feelings for Din for a while now, trying to force the giddiness bubbling in your chest deep down inside. The man is everything you look for in a partner: strong, committed, tall, protective. He’s good with the child, adorably cuddly and loving. He’s even funny sometimes, making dry-humored remarks around the ship.

“Excuse me for caring,” the man grumbles through the modulator. He’s strong and warm beneath your arms, the Tatooine heat making the beskar warm like your bunk in the morning when you don’t want to get up. Stop it, stop it you remind yourself. This is not the time to be enraptured by the Mandalorian man’s body.

That’s yet another trait you love about him- how caring he is. He’s a bounty hunter, a warrior by oath who never shows his face and probably knows millions of ways to kill someone with his bare hands. Yet he cares. He raises the child well; he even raised him alone before you came into the picture. He puts himself in harm’s way for innocent people on the daily, all because he simply thinks it’s right.

You take a sip from your water canteen and hand it to the baby on your chest so he can drink too. “No, I will not excuse you for caring when you’re doing stupid shit, Din,” you scowl and cap the canteen as two three-fingered green hands give it back to you. “You came here- we came here, our family did, to find Mandalorians. There are none.”

“This man will give me his beskar if we help,” Din hisses, revving the engine of the speeder, non-verbally telling Vanth to get moving. The man is dawdling along, a few meters away, as he packs his bike up.

“What do you need it for, huh?” You ask him, throwing your arms up in exasperation. “I’m not a Mandalorian. This little shit doesn’t need beskar. You have a full set of armor already.”

“Beskar belongs to me, to my people, by my Creed,” he says, articulating himself with his hands too. It’s a habit he’s picked up from you. “You wouldn’t ask a Tatooinian to deprive themselves of the moisture they farm.”

You put your face in your hands and groan. “No, you’re right, because they fucking need water to live. You do not need beskar to survive, Din!” You shout, getting off the speeder bike. “And please, forget I called us a family. We’re clearly just a bounty hunter and his… assistant, whatever the fuck I am, and some little kid we picked up for the ride.” You stalk off towards the building.

“Where are you going?” He asks as you turn.

Cobb is standing to the side somewhere, and you approach him. “You got another speeder? I don’t want to put up with him for the ride.”

The man chuckles and claps your shoulder. “Sure thing, pretty thing.” He wanders off and returns about a minute later with another speeder. Din watches the two of you in annoyance, visible from his rigid body language. “Hop on. You know how to drive?” You nod once and he heads to his own speeder. “I’ll lead. You two follow.”

-

The ride is uneventful at first. Cobb Vanth tells the two of you the story of how he came to be the town marshal, and Din nods his silent comprehension when the man in beskar looks over at him. Most of the stories are aimed at you, desperate to crack your stony anger. It doesn’t work. You stare straight ahead, daring to break your frown into a neutral expression when the little green baby coos excitedly at the wind in his ears.

There are valleys and caverns to navigate through, nimbly ducking and weaving on your speeder bike. The kid loves it, squealing happily when you fly over a bump or turn a sharp corner. It’s a joyride to him.

When Din and Vanth suddenly stop your ride, you panic, holding the child close against your chest. From your holster, you grab your weapon and stand next to the two men. The growling noises are revealed to be massiffs, huge dog-like lizards. You squeal in delight, immediately dropping to your knees and summoning the beast in Tusken.

“What in the hell is she doin’?” Vanth mutters to Din as the big animal comes bounding toward you.

“She’s always like this with animals. Thinks they’re all big puppies,” Din rolls his eyes but can’t help himself: he smiles beneath his helmet as the beast licks your face and you scratch its sides.

You’re such a wonderful person, Din sighs, even though he’s mad at you. You’ve always been amazing with other species, like massiffs and the little green child strapped to your chest. You’re so intelligent too: speaking seemingly endless languages.

“They are big puppies!” You coo and press a kiss to the forehead of one massiff. Another finds Din, who also bends down to give it scratches and attention. “Green bean, look!” You tell the child and put out his hand for the massiff to lick. “See? They’re our friends,” you tell him, admiring the way the little green child giggles at the scaly skin.

From around a corner, a Tusken appears, then several. You stand and lower your weapon, speaking to them first in their native language. “We mean no harm. You have beautiful massiffs,” you tell them then turn to Din and Vanth. “Drop the weapons.”

“Are you crazy?” Vanth shouts.

“We are here to put an end to the krayt dragon,” you explain to them in their language. “Your assistance and knowledge would certainly help us. You want it gone too, yes?”

They affirm you that it’s a yes, and you nod back at the men. You know Din understands. “They’re willing to help if you’ll stop being a douchebag.” Vanth starts to talk but you hold up a hand and cut him off. “I know, I know. We can strike a deal. Are you willing?”

Din’s heart is nearly exploding. In any other timeline, he’d be the one conducting negotiations, using his threat as a Mandalorian to run the show. But here you are, with your gentle nature, making deals and completing them through cooperation and kindness. It’s hard to speak in a soft tone when speaking Tusken, yet you can do it. All with a baby strapped to your chest. Maker, Din thinks, he might be in love with you.

Vanth sighs a few moments later. “Why the hell not?”

-

Din talks with the Tuskens for a while at the camp, planning and negotiating as night falls and the air starts to get cold. To entertain the child, you spend time with the banthas, brushing their fur and letting the baby get exposed to the animals.

The kid loves them. He coos happily as he strokes their thick fur, giggling as one of them gives him a kiss and covers him in slime. You wash him off and return, quietly talking with the Tuskens caring for the creatures.

You’ve taken a liking to them. They’re gentle and soft, like big lumbering puppies, really. They moo when you brush their fur just right, let their eyes slip shut when you scratch them between the eyes. You’ve always had a soft spot for animals, like Din said earlier.

Cobb likes you. That much is clear from the way he finds you when he’s not working with Din and the Tuskens, bringing you food and water as you and the child mind your business. He’s overly flirtatious, to the point of annoyance. He’s rude and crude about the Tuskens, calling them words you’d never use to describe a human.

Politely excusing yourself, you allow the child to run with some of the other Tuskens’ children and spot a silver-plated man sitting by the fire.

“Vanth is such a goddamn xenophobe,” you grumble as you sit down next to the fire with Din, the child off playing with some Tusken children. He’d ranted about the Tuskens as you rode with them, luckily in Basic so that the people couldn’t understand him.

“Thought you liked him,” Din says and cocks his head. “He certainly likes you.”

You roll your eyes and sip the canteen of water, looking at the crackling fire. “Those things are not mutually exclusive,” you chuckle, looking over at him. “What, are you jealous, tin can?” You tease and knock on his beskar pauldron.

“In your dreams, cyar’ika,” he teases. It’s clear to him that whatever tension had been between the two of you earlier has dissipated, enough for him to steal the water flask from your hand and pass it to the child as he toddles past.

“I was drinking that, you fucking bantha,” you laugh and smack him on an unarmored part of his arm. The Tatooinian desert gets cold at night, you find, and you pull into yourself a little more from the cold.

Din unclips his cape and drapes it over your shoulders, tucking it in beneath where your arms press against your ribs so that it wraps tight to your body. “Hm. You do have a heart under there,” you tease and sigh, naturally leaning against Din and resting your head on his shoulder pauldron.

“So it’s been said,” he nods and even dares to rest his head on top of yours. Through the bare spots in his beskar, he can feel the way your body radiates warmth into the chilly night. You spot a little green head toddling past again, much slower than the other children thanks to his tiny legs, and Din scoops him up.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur quietly, the roar of the Tuskens’ conversations creating a soft hum around you. “For what I said, when I yelled at you. You’re right. You really are just caring for them.”

He nods. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“I’m more sorry for saying we aren’t a family. I mean, we are, right? Not that we’re like, a couple or anything,” you say hurriedly, your voice low as you stumble over your words. “But you and this little womp rat…” you muse as you scratch the baby’s little green head. “You are my family. That much is clear to me.”

Din nods once more. “I agree.”

You smile up at him. “What’s going on under that bucket, huh?”

He turns, looking off. “Just going over the plans for how we’re going to get that krayt dragon.”

“Ooh, share,” you ask, taking one of his hands and lacing through his glove-covered fingers. “I didn’t mean it when we said all of this for some banthas, you know. I’ve really fallen in love with them lately.”

Din is quiet for a moment. He doesn’t answer. “Din?”

He knows you’re going to hate him for this. Your big heart, your animal-loving, sweet talking kindness is not going be okay with this, but he has to tell you the truth. “We’re going to have to sacrifice some of the banthas for this mission to work.”

“What?” You exclaim, dropping his hand. “You can’t possibly do that.”

“We have to. We need to lure the dragon.”

“Do it some other way!” You frown, looking over at the big soft desert cows. “Seriously, please, Din.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he shakes his head. “They’re not sentient.”

“But they can feel!” You exclaim again, standing. “Fuck this. Why don’t you sacrifice yourself to the krayt dragon and see how that feels?” You shout, storming off. You’re aware it’s childish, but you stomp to your tent and lie down. You close your eyes and hope Din doesn’t come to find you.

-

Of course you didn’t mean it. Of course you didn’t want Din to sacrifice himself to the krayt dragon. So why is he doing it? Why are you on your knees, screaming to the sky that he did exactly what you said?

You’d been avoiding him since that night, since you showed vulnerability and subsequently returned to anger towards the man. You’d wanted to apologize, but you couldn’t get over the sacrificing of the animals for the cause. You just couldn’t.

Din had flown straight into the sand dragon’s mouth, just seconds ago, and is now deep inside its bowels, you’re sure. You clutch the baby to your chest and wail, agonized and terrified. Vanth stands at your side, a hand resting on your shoulder as you wheeze and sob.

But this is Din. He must have a plan.  He has to have a plan; he’s a battle-worn warrior and you’ve never seen him lose a fight. You’d stormed off before you could hear the rest of his plans the other night- maybe this was part of it. But the way Vanth stares at the dragon in terror makes you think that maybe it isn’t. Maybe Din just really fucked it up. You set the little green kid in his cradle and stand, sniffling and clinging to the metal sphere as if it’s your last lifeline to Din.

Suddenly, there’s a burst of green goo and out flies a shining silver rocket: it’s Din. “Oh thank the fucking Maker,” you shout as he lands not far from your small group, the wailing and dying sand beast behind him.

He’s covered in slime, but you’ve never been so happy to see the man. You rush to him and throw your arms around him, not giving a single fuck as you jump on him. “Please, never fucking do that again,” you wheeze into his cape, getting yourself covered in slime.

The hug is not comfortable. Din is all beskar where you want to feel his strong body, but it’s all worth it when he wraps his arms around you too. You’re crying, he knows it, and he knows just why. “I didn’t do it because you said it. You know that, right?”

You let go of him, sniffling and wiping your eyes. “Yeah. I was just so scared- oh Maker, Din, I can’t fucking lose you,” you admit, freely crying now. “I love you, I really do, and I can’t-“

“How?”

You look at him in confusion.

“How do you love me?”

This damn man. He’s full of surprises, just getting literally eaten alive by a krayt dragon, and now he’s asking you for a full emotional confession. You’re still reeling from the shock, but the fact that he’s there is enough. You don’t care that Cobb is definitely listening over your shoulder. “Every way. All of them. Romantic, friendship, family. You feel like my home and I want to be with you.” No better time than now, you suppose, to admit this all.

Din walks a step closer. “Romantic. Huh.”

“I hate that fucking helmet,” you admit, trying to deflect the emotion between the two of you. “I can never see your face. Can’t know what you’re thinking, your tone, your-“

Din cuts you off. “We ride back to the village and clean up. Meet me in the home as the suns set.”

What that means, you have no clue, but you nod. “I’m so glad you’re safe,” you murmur, putting a hand on the cut-out cheek of his helmet.

-

The town rejoices when you come back, shouting and celebrating over the dragon’s death and the plentiful meat that came with the creature. You’d joined in the reverie, taking a shot of spotchka and chanting along to a Tatooinian call-and-response they’d started. It was wonderful, really, and you and the little green thing were the stars. They admired the little green thing, cooing over him. You were proud to stand there as his mother.

The party died as the suns set. Din was notably absent from the hubbub, preferring to be alone as usual. You and the kid talked with the villagers, but as the suns started to sink, you excused yourself and found your way to the spare home you and Din each had rooms in.

Vanth and the women had taken the baby when you told them you were going to talk with Din. Not that it was hard: they all loved the little beast, showered him with affection. It was practically a competition over who got to play with him most.

The building has a warm glow as you wander over to it, wrapping your arms around yourself. The night has become cold now that the two harsh suns have sunk below the horizon, and it’s a relief to open the door to the home and feel the warmth radiating from a fireplace inside.

You find Din staring out of a window on the back, watching the endless wind sweep across the sand dunes, a dark sky contrasting the golden ground. Just his silhouette is visible, black against the deep blue. “Hi,” you say quietly as you walk in, the worn floorboards creaking beneath your feet no matter how deliberately you step. “Glad to see you got cleaned up.”

The man tilts his head in an obvious eye roll, even through the helmet. The slime was disgusting, although Din’s adoptive son had seemed to enjoy the gooey texture, as little ones are prone to. “I almost died and you’re already back to the sarcasm.”

“It’s called a coping mechanism,” you laugh gently and place a hand on his shoulder. There’s no beskar there, just soft fabric warmed by his body. It makes you shiver; even in the safety of the Crest, Din never takes off the armor. You wonder why it’s gone. Maybe to clean it?

Din’s quiet for a moment, enjoying the feeling of your fingers splayed over his shoulder in such an affectionate gesture. “You know how much I trust you, don’t you?” He asks and the black visor turns toward you, admiring what’s visible of your face in the moonlight. Your eyes glimmer and he admires them, the color he’s always loved.

You nod and smile just a little, cheeks growing rounder with the movement. “Of course.” He’s trusted you with his son, the most important thing to him in the galaxy. There’s one clear gesture even now: the absence of the beskar from his form. Maker, he’s broad, shoulders just as wide as with the metal.

He nods and shuts the window’s shutters, allowing even less light in before turning to you. There’s just a soft glow in the room, outlining the shape of the helmet and his shoulders. You can’t see any detail, just the shape. He walks over towards the long comfortable seating in the middle of the room and you instinctively follow, standing in front of it and stopping when he stops, facing him. His hands find your shoulders and his fingertips brush down your arms until they find yours. “Take off my helmet.”

“What? No,” you exclaim, frowning even though he can’t see it.

“Can you see anything?” He asks, a hand gesturing, an even darker shadow through the already murky visibility.

“No.”

“My Creed says you cannot see my face. Not that I can’t remove the helmet.”

You gulp hard, your fingers lacing through his. They’re bare. You’ve never felt them before. Often you’ve wondered if they’re calloused and tough from his work, soft from being hidden beneath the soft leather for all those years, or somewhere in between. They do fall into that in between, but they’re warm and strong and large, even without the leather casing them.

“I can’t do that to you,” you shudder, squeezing his fingers. “It’s the very thing about you, that you can’t take it off,” you start to ramble. You want to, desperately, but there’s no turning back now. If you feel his face, if you’re even so lucky as to kiss him, you’ll never be able to get enough of it. You’ll be subjected to an eternity of longing, even more than you’re yearning now.

“I want you to,” he breathes, his beskar-covered forehead falling against yours. “Please, cyare.”

“Why don’t you hate me?” You ask, your voice straining. You need to keep stalling, need to keep pushing it off or you’re actually going to do it. “I’m so mean to you. All the time,” you point out to him. You do it to keep him away, but he’s persistent. He never seems to care. “All we do is argue.”

“I may not be able to use the Force like the kid,” he mumbles, bringing one hand up to cup your face. “But I can sense your feelings. You don’t hide them well.”

“Din,” you plead, biting your lip and closing your eyes to prevent the tears that are threatening to well in them. “You can’t do this.”

“I can, and I want to.”

“Why are you so fucking patient with me when I’m only ever a bitch to you?” You practically wail, half annoyed and half honored. “You’re such a good man, Din. You don’t deserve someone shitty like me. I’ve got no hunting skills, I’m too stubborn, I’m mean and-”

He stops you by lifting your hands, setting them on either side of his helmet. “You can’t see me, so it doesn’t break the Creed. I want you to do this, because I want you.” He’s eternally blunt, but in this moment you can’t tell if it’s breaking your heart or warming it. “I love you too. Please. Take it off.”

“This is your last fucking chance, Djarin,” you tell him with a wavering voice.

“Cyare.”

“Okay,” you nod and take a deep breath. Din unlatches the little bit at the bottom that keeps it sealed against his head, and there’s a soft rush of air. Your hands grip either side and you slowly lift it off. Din takes it once it’s gone and rests it on the plush seat.

Your hands are drawn to his face like you’re being pulled on a string, your skin prickling as you feel the stubble along his chin and jaw. Your fingers trace his face for a few moments, exploring the new terrain. His cheeks feel hot, and his lips make you shiver again with how soft they are. Swallowing hard, you dare to look at his silhouette, noticing his hair is mostly matted down from the helmet. “What color are your eyes, Din?”

“Brown.”

You smile at that, and you rest your head against his shoulder, your hands dropping to your sides. His arms encircle you and it feels perfect, like you were meant to be like this for all of eternity and it took you long enough. “Of course they are.”

He chuckles at that and presses a kiss into your head, his hands finding your waist. “I did take this off for a reason.”

You lift your head, looking at his just-visible shape. “Really? I don’t know what you mean,” you flirt.

He’s silent. You’re sure he’s rolling his eyes, absolutely certain. “May I kiss you?”

The words are ever blunt, just like Din. “Yes, you bantha,” you tease, but the laughter is gone as his hands find your face again.

Just like that, his lips are on yours, radiating heat and love and it immediately tops the feeling of his arms around you. You gasp, not expecting him to do it so quickly, but your lips quickly meld to his and you sigh in content.

You stay like that for a while, hands traveling each other’s heads and necks and shoulders and sides as you kiss. He’s so warm and strong, his muscles just as sculpted as the indestructible metal that covers him. He’s so human.

After a bit, Din breaks away and presses his forehead to yours once more. He doesn’t speak, just rests there, his hands on your waist. His breath mingles with yours. For once, you’re speechless, unsure of what you can say back. The sarcasm has been stripped from your body like the beskar from Din’s.

“I better put the helmet back on,” he murmurs.

“Please don’t,” you whisper, tucking your face into the curve of his neck. You sit on the couch and he follows, desperate not to lose your touch. “Just… we’ll stay like this.”

He nods. He can’t say no when you kiss his neck feather-lightly, when your skin is pressed to his like this. He hasn’t had contact like this in years. He’ll prolong it as long as he can.

You do stay like that, relaxed and curled into each other. His arm wraps around you and you curl into a ball, nestled into his side. It’s been a long day for Din, you know, but the depth of it occurs to you as his breathing slows and his muscles relax.

He’s fallen asleep in your arms. You press a soft kiss to his neck and set a timer on the wrist-comm you’re wearing, so that you’ll both wake while it’s still dark in the room. For now, he deserves his rest. His face nuzzles into your hair, and he gives a soft sigh in his sleep. Yes, this is exactly what the beskar warrior needed: rest and you.

-

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[justnat15]

Come Home - Max Lord

A/N: It’s ya girl, here with a Max Lord fic!! This one is the result of watching WW84 and following/befriending my lovely Rach. Not to mention listening to Taylor Swift’s Back to December on repeat while working at night. So be warned, this is pretty angsty (at least for me). But there is a little bit of fluff and happiness at the end.

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x fem!reader 

Warnings: ANGST!! Beware, almost didn’t have a happy ending. Possibly AU? No mention of Dreamstone, or alluding to the events of WW84 to happen. Please tell me if I missed any. 

Dedicated to my beloved Rach @mandoalorian / @maxlordsgf . I love you darling!!

Come Home

The room was dimly lit, all the candles once giving it a romantic glow. Now, however, as you sat there at the table all alone, the lighting was somber. Another late night at the office, apparently. No matter that it was your anniversary, he never could pull himself away from work anymore to spend even one evening with you. The food you had spent all day preparing was now cold. Your hair, once curled and pinned to perfection, was now falling out of place, strands blurring your vision as you looked at the clock once more.

You knew it would do no good to call the office. You'd only get his assistant and she'd promise to give him your message as soon as he was available, which seemed to be never these days. That's if she was still there. Lord knows the man couldn't be counted on to answer his own phone, even if it was his girlfriend calling.

After another fifteen minutes of sitting and holding onto a small glimmer of hope, you sighed and stood, wandering around the dining area to put out the candles. No need to potentially burn the place down, even if he did deserve it. You debated on cleaning up the dinner but decided against it, focusing instead on showering and changing.

You packed a bag, taking only enough to get you through the next couple of days. You could come back and get the rest of your stuff later, preferably when you knew he wouldn't be home. But when was he home these days? You couldn't remember the last time you had fallen asleep and woken up in his embrace.

Before walking out the door, you wrote a note and left it on the table next to the remains of your dinner.

Maxwell,

When you read this, I will be gone. I'll be back for the rest of my things sometime later this week.

I know you have a lot to do at the office and trying to run your business, but I can't do this anymore.

Don't try to contact me. Goodbye, Maxwell. I wish you the best.

You wiped away the tears now freely streaming down your face and walked out, locking the door behind you. You didn't want to leave, but you knew staying would only bring more forgotten dinners and pain. “Goodbye, Maxwell Lord,” you whispered softly as you waved down a taxi to go to a nearby hotel.

Maxwell Lord, founder of Black Gold Cooperative, let himself into his apartment nearly two hours later. He tried to be quiet, knowing his lover must be asleep by now. It had been a long day at the office and all he wanted was to crawl into bed next to the love of his life and sleep for a few hours before he had to get up and go back to work. He knew that he hadn't been home much lately, but he assumed you understood. He assumed you knew that he was doing this so the both of you could have a better life, a better future for you and Alistair, his beloved son from his failed marriage.

Max was not expecting to see a cold dinner laid out on the dining table, remnants of candles scattered around the room. “Darling? Are you still awake?” he called out, placing his briefcase by the door. “Sweetheart?” He paused in his movements at the sight of the note you left on the table. He grabbed onto a chair as he read the brief note. “No,” he whispered, eyes watering. “NO!” The cry, raw with pain, ripped from his throat as he turned and rushed out to the street in a vain attempt to try and find you. He cried your name, hands tearing at his blond hair that you teased him about relentlessly in the beginning.

A soft rain began to fall, as if Mother Nature was mourning with him at the loss of one of the few good things in his life.

***********************************************

You parked the truck your brother had lent you, grateful you wouldn't need to load a taxi with the boxes you would no doubt have after packing everything you left behind at Max's apartment. It had only been three days since you left, but you knew if you didn't get your things now, you never would.

The apartment was dark as you let yourself in for what would be the last time (besides the trips it would take to move everything to the truck). It was no surprise. You had planned to be there and gone while Max was at the office.

“Darling?” A hoarse whisper called from the living room. “Is that you?” A haggard figure moved to the entryway. Maxwell Lord, oil tycoon and successful businessman, stood in front of you looking as if he hadn't slept in days. “Oh, darling, it is you! I'm so sorry baby! Please come home. Please don't leave. I can't live without you.” He moved as if to embrace you but stopped at your flinch. “Darling?” Tears fell from his brown eyes, blond-dyed strands falling into his face. You wanted nothing more to go to him and hold him, but you had to be strong.

“I thought you would be at work,” you murmured, looking at the floor. “I just came by to get the rest of my things.” You started to move towards the bedroom where all of your clothes were but Maxwell reached out to stop you.

“Please,” was the quiet plea. He whispered your name. “Please, don't go. You and Alistair are the only good things in my life and I can't go on without the both of you by my side. I'm so sorry I haven't been around, but I will try harder. Just don't go, baby, please. Come home.”

You looked at him, noting the sincerity in his voice and the heartbreak in his eyes. “I don't know if I can, Max. It hurts so much. You put your work in front of me, in front of Alistair. The last two weekends he was here, he and I spent the whole time together, hoping you would come home and spend the time with us, but you never did. Then you didn't come home for our anniversary, despite having made the plans in advance. It hurt,” your voice broke, sobs escaping as you wrapped your arms around yourself in an attempt to hold yourself together. “What did I do wrong?”

Maxwell's heart broke even more at the sight of you crying in front of him. You were always so strong and happy, his strength. “Oh sweetheart, you didn't do anything wrong. Can I hold you?” He stepped forward, his arms partially raised to embrace you.

A sniffle and a slight nod was his answer. He wasted no time in wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. He buried his face in your hair, breathing in the scent that was you, that was home. “I'm so sorry, love. You don't deserve to be made to feel like this. I wish I could undo everything I did to make you feel like you need to leave. If you give me the chance, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, I swear. You are too beautiful to cry like this.” His own tears started to fall again, dampening your shirt where he rested his head. “I'm so sorry.”

The two of you stood there, wrapped up in each other, for minutes or an hour, you didn't know. Time seemed to stop as you both cried and held tightly to each other.

After a time, you pulled back slightly to look up at him, eyes rimmed red from crying. “I don't want to go, Max. I never wanted to leave. You promise if I come back, I won't regret it?”

He cradled your face in his hands, rubbing a thumb over your cheek. “I promise, my love. I will try my best to be home earlier from work or at least calling to let you know I can't make it home until late. I will be there for you and Alistair. I just want to give us all a better life. It's all for the two of you.”

You leaned into his touch, comforted by the warmth you had missed the past while. “We just want you. I don't need anything but you and your son when he's here. All he wants is you. Alistair loves you just the way you are, you know? He can't stop talking about how much he loves and misses you when you aren't here.” You brought up one hand to cover Max's on your cheek. “I miss you when you aren't here.”

Max couldn't speak, choked up by so much emotion. All he could do was kiss you on the forehead, praying that the kiss would convey all he was feeling, the apologies, the sorrow, the love. Everything he felt for you. “So will you stay? Will you come back home?”

You nod into his chest. “Yes, I'll come home.”

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Riverdale//i didn’t realize how important you’d end up being

Request: Riverdale imagine the reader is from the Northside and is a Cooper and she changes her name when she's on the southside and she feels guilty for it but she didn't want her last name to be a problem for anyone bcuz of Alice and the Northside and either Sweet Pea finds out or Jughead is there and busts her and SP looses his temper and the reader feels bad and gives him a good explanation and Jughead too.

hey! i hope you like this!! it’s a little bit angsty at times and there’s a hint of a romance between the reader and sweet pea, but it has a happy ending and that’s really all that matters isn’t it? 

The moment you step foot over the threshold of The Wyrm, you can feel your heartbeat thumping in time with the loud music. Neon lights cast shadows over your skin and your face blends in with the crowd. It must be happy night tonight, because every time Betty has been, it’s been practically empty with only the regulars occupying the seats. 

Teenagers squash together in booths while older serpents sit at the bar and watch them carefully, just waiting for one of them to breathe the wrong way so they have an excuse to start a fight. 

Normally you wouldn’t be seen dead in a place like this. In fact, you would be better off dead if you’re mom caught you. You’ve seen the effect that her coldness has taken on Betty and even though she tries to remain nonchalant to practical abandonment, you know Betty’s just as upset as Alice is. They’re just too stubborn to talk to each other. 

But desperate times call for desperate measures, and with Betty locked in her room like Rapunzel, you’ve been sent on a suicide mission to find Jughead and tell him that she is currently unreachable. And if Jughead steps within 30 feet of the Cooper residence, Alice will kill on sight. 

A boy stumbles past you, his beer tipping over the edge of the glass as he tries to stay standing and you watch him drunkenly shouts across the room at a friend. A glass smashes from behind the bar and the people sat around groan collectively while watching a pink haired girl clean it up. 

You can see a lot of serpents, but none of them are the one that you want, making you huff loudly before spinning on your heel. You’re about to walk out and just ring him in hopes that he’ll actually answer his phone, but instead you walk straight into the chest of a very tall boy and now suddenly you feel the eyes of half the bar on you. 

“Sorry.” You dip your head down and try to move past him, but his hand grabs your arm, stopping you from going any further. “What the fu-” 

“Who are you?” He cuts you off, clearly unaffected by your tone or the way you pull your arm from his grip. You’re the one that has to stop yourself rubbing the sore bit of skin while he just stares at you, a scowl growing on his lips as the seconds pass. 

“Y/n...Pool...table? I mean, Y/n Pool. I’m Y/n Pool. I’ve said my name too many times haven’t I?” You ramble. Guilt worms its way into your heart, forcing you to think about the repercussions of changing your name. You love your family of course, but The Coopers can be a bit intense, and the only one that isn’t well known for something is you. 

So maybe it was wrong of you to change it, but it’s not like you’re ever coming back here again, and it’s not like it’s an official name change. 

“I’m looking for Jughead.” You say when you notice him staring. He’s smirking at you and a heat creeps up your cheeks when you realize you must have been staring at him for an awfully long time. 

Oh God, what if he thinks you were checking him out? Okay, maybe that wouldn’t be a lie. 

“Why the hell would you want to hang out with Jones?” He asks, a snarl replacing the smirk as he stands up straighter. 

“I don’t want to hang out.” You roll your eyes. “You must be Sweet Pea.” You add and he looks at you confused. You’ve heard Jughead complaining about some guy named Sweet Pea for weeks now, and to be honest, it was boring the first time you heard it. So what someone doesn’t like him, he also doesn’t get along with many people. “I need to tell him something.” 

“And you had to come all the way here to tell him? Don’t you have a phone?” He teases, a small smile playing at his lips and you have to suppress your own. A black curl falls in front of his face and he pushes it back before looking you up and down. 

“I do.” You nod and try not to show just how flustered you are. “It’s just he doesn’t use his.” 

“Well I use mine, I could always give you my number and then whenever you need to tell him something, you can text me and I’ll tell him.” He suggests and you narrow your eyes suspiciously. 

“Why? Do you not want to see me around here anymore?” 

“Nope. I just wanted an excuse to get your phone number.” He replies making you choke on air. If the bar didn’t already feel crowded, it certainly does now. 

“Oh-” 

“Sweet Pea, stop flirting with-Y/n?” Jughead’s surprised tone thankfully stops the conversation from going any further and you quickly turn around to face the beanie-clad boy, a slightly awkward smile on your face. “No offence, but what exactly are you doing here?” He asks, leading you away from Sweet Pea who you’re sure looks slightly disappointed while watching the two of you leave.

You look at him one last time, sending him a wave and a small smile before disappearing through a set of doors. 

“Hey Jug. Betty wanted me to tell you-” You start talking, but you’re not listening to yourself. You’re too busy watching the doors and wondering if you’d ever see him again. 

---

There’s only one light in the parking lot of the Whyte Wyrm, and it’s been broken since before you started coming regularly. Normally it doesn’t bother you, the light from the neon sign outside is enough to light your way into the surprisingly welcoming bar. 

Tonight however, there’s no light. Not even the sign is lit up and as you make your way across the dusty parking lot, you can’t help the frown that pulls on your lips. You pull your jacket tighter to you and crane your neck to see if there’s anybody around. 

Usually the place is packed with old trucks, new bikes and at least a few people standing around. Either drunk and puking against the wall, or sober and trying to have a conversation with someone that they’ve bumped into. But tonight it’s empty. 

You pull your phone out, ready to text Sweet Pea to ask if he knows what’s going on. You’re hoping that it’s just a last minute serpent meeting, but a part of you fears that it’s something worse. 

Over the past few weeks, you’ve been in pretty regularly, mainly talking to Sweet Pea, and the thought that something bad could have happened and that he could possibly be involved is enough to make your heart skip a beat. 

“There’s no need to text.” Sweet Pea says and you let out a relieved sigh. Your face lights up as you watch him come out from the around the back of the bar, his breath visible in the chilly air and the hairs on the back of you neck stand as you watch him slowly approach you. 

Is this it? After weeks of flirting is he finally making the move? Your heartbeat pumps with excitement and you stand waiting for him to close the gap. Your palms are clammy and you shake them out a little, trying to get rid of the nervous energy that still seems to be clinging onto the moment. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were a Northsider?” He asks and your eyes widen. “More importantly, a Cooper?” He adds and your face falls. He stares at you, an expectant look on his face as he waits for you to answer. If it wasn’t for the full moon, you wouldn’t be able to see the disappointment on his face, and for the first time in you’re life, you wish the moon would disappear. 

Without it you wouldn’t have to see the hurt and betrayal that he’s trying and failing to hide. 

“Yeah, Jughead told me? He said he never thought he’d see me take an interest in a Northsider, let alone a Cooper. And when I asked him what he meant he told me you were Betty’s sister.” He adds and you gulp. 

He stops a few feet away from you and your gaze drops to his muddy boots. You can’t quite force yourself to look at him. You knew as soon as you lied it would catch up with you at some point. Either he would find out or your mom would, and before you weren’t entirely sure which one is worse. 

Now you know though. Because you’re mom’s been upset with you before, in fact she kind of is at the minute because you’ve ben defending Betty and her choices a lot recently. You can deal with Alice Cooper being pissed at you. It’s something she is at least once a week. 

But this is far worse. The way that he’s looking at you makes you feel sick and if you could go back a month, you never would have set foot in the bar in the first place. You would have told Betty to just text her boyfriend like a normal person and then you’d never have to see him look at you like this. 

“I’m sorry.” You start and look up at him. But the look in his eyes make you stop and drop your gaze again. 

“Sorry?” He repeats. “You know, the worst thing is, is that I actually liked you. You just turned up one day and you were all awkward and you looked so lost in there, but you looked nice and for some weird reason I wanted to help you.” He sighs and runs a hand over his face. His curls fall in front of his eyes and you move step forward, your instant reaction being to move them for him but he takes a step away from you, leaving your hand awkwardly hanging in the air.

“Okay, I lied too. I bumped into you on purpose so I had an excuse to talk to you, but at least I didn’t change or hide myself. At least I was honest.” He says and tears pool in your eyes. 

“Okay, yeah. What I did was bad. But I didn’t murder anyone and that’s what you’re acting like. All I did was change my last name, but can you really blame me? If I’d said ‘hey, i’m y/n cooper’, would you have honestly given me your number? Or would you have kicked me out the of bar yourself?” You glare at him and now it’s his turn to avoid eye contact. 

“I know it was a shitty thing to do, but I know what my mom is like and I know what her and the rest of the town have put you through. I just, I didn’t want to be associated with them. I was only supposed to be here to tell Jughead something and then I was never gonna come back. I didn’t think it would be worth the hassle of me telling you I’m not only a Northsider, but a Cooper too, all for two minutes of conversation.” You argue and stomp towards him. “So, I’m sorry. But at the time I didn’t realize how important you’d end up being to me so I thought it would be ok-what?” 

“I’m important to you?” He asks, his eyes wide and you feel your cheeks heat up at the confession. 

“Of course I do.” You say, your voice a lot softer. You dare to reach out for his hand and he lets you take it. “This past month I have been the happiest I have ever been and that’s because of you.” 

“It’s okay.” He nods. “I lied too. I don’t really use my phone.” He shrugs and you send him a look. “Okay, I lied again. I’m never off my phone. Now we’re even. Now I have a very important question that must be answered immediately.” 

“Go ahead.” 

“Do you even know how to play pool?” He asks and you shake your head with an embarrassed smile. “Come on, I’ll show you how to play.” He says and leads you to the front door of The Wyrm. 

“It looks closed.” You stop and stare at him confused. “Should we be going in?” 

“It’s okay. If we get caught you can just tell them you’re really convincing fake name and then we’ll just be able to leave.” He says. Your jaw drops as you stare at him annoyed before a loud laugh leaves your lips and you shove him. 

“You’re an ass!” 

“And you’re a liar.” He replies, his tone happy as he dances down the stairs. “Are you coming?” He asks from the bottom of them. “Y/n Pool...table? Hey if you were to marry a pool player that would be so cute!” 

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[neutron-stars-collision]

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 11 - What If This Is All The Love You’ll Ever Get?

Masterlist; Chapter 10

Summary: The brief peace you experience does not last long. And this time the consquences cannot be ignored.

Warnings: Swearing; it gets quite angsty with some mentions of loss, excessive drinking and such... (I’m sorry)

Author’s Notes: Right so... this is post-Kiev, before Mumbai film-wise. It gets intense for which I’m sorry (trust me this wasn’t fun to write). I hope you enjoy nonetheless and please let me know what you think! Feedback makes my days so much better <3

It turned out that if you and Neil were forced to cooperate (long-distantly yet still), it could work out pretty well. Kiev was a success, to put it simply. Yes, the opera house got partially blown up, and TP’s initial operation became a ‘massive fuck-up’ (as Neil put it), but the boss himself made it. You have been assured about that by some remote Tenet connections you did not even know they had. Now it was their time to step into the game. So you waited patiently for Neil’s return while keeping yourself occupied with other random small tasks for the organization. You went back to texting him rather frequently as well, having decided that friends are allowed to have little chats like that. Also, because you could not deny yourself that guilty pleasure…

He came back just as it was planned, four days after your awkward goodbye (which still haunted you at night). It was late in the evening, and you were finishing a report needed for the morning when you heard a knock on the door.

“Hey you” Neil smiled when you opened the door.

You eyed him quickly, noticing the wrinkles on his clothes, ruffled hair, and tired eyes. It became pretty obvious he came to see you straight after coming back. And that idea made you feel… strange.

“Hey” you smiled back and left the ajar for him “When did you come back?” you watched him sit down on the bed and stretch his arms elegantly.

You could not hide the small smile that showed on your face at the sight. He met your gaze with a little grin of his own before answering:

“Just arrived back from the airport. Left stuff in my room, and here I am” he opened his arms to emphasise the point, and you laughed.

“I can see that. Aren’t you tired though?” once again, you warily searched his face.

But apart from being shocked at how beautiful he was, you got nothing concrete.

“I’d rather talk to you than sleep” he shrugged as though it was obvious. You blushed and looked down at your lap before closing the documents. The report would have to wait.

“How was the mission?” you turned back to him and watched, mesmerised, as he rolled up the sleeves and leaned back on his forearms.

Having Neil chill on your bed was certainly not an image you expected to see this evening.

“Well, you were there in spirit, so you probably know” he grinned “But if you want details…” he trailed off to gather his thoughts, “It was surprisingly easy to enter despite the ongoing siege with two different groups fighting inside. Then all I had to do was wait and try not to draw attention to myself”

“Where did you wait in the end?”

You have discussed the different options he had a day before the attack.

“A lovely storage room backstage” his eyes sparked “Would’ve been more fun if you were there with me” he smirked.

So nothing’s changed then.

“Did you find TP with no problems?” your swift change of topic did not go unnoticed.

But this time, he obeyed.

“Once shit started going off, I went back into the concert hall, and there he was. Trying to save all those civilians from being blown to pieces” Neil looked pensive for a moment “But then just as I thought that I would not be needed there, I saw movement near him. Someone has shot an inverted round there” he met your gaze “So I collected the bullet, making sure it went through whoever that was threatening TP and left just as quickly” he took off the shoes and went back to relaxing on your bed.

“He noticed you?”

“Probably yeah. But to him, I was just a handy help in a rather messy situation” he smiled “Enough about that. How have you been?” this time it was his turn to search your face.

You wondered what he found there.

“Alright, I guess” you smile lightly “When I wasn’t busy helping you, I was mostly working on some boring reports”

“Sounds fascinating” he grinned “Anything fun happened while I was away?” now he was lying on his side with head propped on the elbow.

For a second, you thought about the fact that your pillow might smell like him over night.

“Apart from Anna nearly slamming the door in my face yesterday… not really” you frowned at the memory.

“What?!” Neil’s eyes widened in shock.

“Yeah, well… think she just didn’t see me following her through the door, but I almost ended up with a concussion”

“That doesn’t sound like her but, then…” it was Neil’s turn to frown.

“After everything, I wouldn’t be surprised” you murmured and met his gaze with a weary smile.

You probably had to get used to the rush of butterflies you felt every time your eyes met. He stared at you with an inquisitive look. You were acutely aware that you were both probably recollecting the events from a few days ago. To stop the flood of images from making you do something stupid, you got up:

“Do you want a tea?” you busily stared at the kettle.

“Yeah sure” you could hear the self-satisfaction in his voice.

While you got busy with preparing two cups of tea, you could feel his eyes on you. Then a text alert broke the silence that fell. You turned to see him type an answer. For an absolutely unknown reason, you wanted to know who was messaging him. And why. But instead, you had to try not to pour boiling water all over your hand. At which you failed.

“Fuck” you hissed on reflex and hoped he has not noticed.

But nothing seemed to go past those deep blue eyes.

“Are you alright?” he sat up and watched you from across the room.

“Yeah, just clumsy as fuck” once the tea was brewing, you could assess the damage.

Apart from a little sore skin, you should live. When you turned to give Neil his mug, you were faced with a very smug grin.

“Don’t tell me you got jealous over a text from TP” he pushed his phone into your hands.

You stared blankly at the recent texts. The last one was his response to The Protagonist. One before that was to you. And nothing more remarkable after that. You felt very stupid. But thankfully, Neil was done with taunting. At least for the moment.

“It’s okay” he took his phone back and then gently cradled your hurt hand “Swear I won’t mention this again”

“If you will, I’ll shoot you” you glared at him, trying to ignore the waves of shame threatening to spill from your system.

“Now that’s quite dramatic, don’t you think?” he looked up at you and grinned.

Then he kissed your knuckles and released his hold on your hand. You were finally free, and you were not going to waste that.

“I’ll… I’ve got to go the bathroom for a sec… sorry” you bolted to the door with newly found energy.

Just before you locked the door, you heard him say:

“I’ve missed you”

Fuck. You pressed your back against the closed door and took a deep breath. The sting of the burn was nearly gone, but the shame burned just as strongly through your body. Now you understood why Jasper called you pathetic. That was probably the best adjective to describe your behaviour. Slowly, you calmed down the racing heart and opted to take off make-up as a relaxing task. It worked, and soon you also decided to change into some nightclothes. It was late, and it was safe to assume that Neil would leave for the night in the not too far future. Finally, you took long fifteen minutes to coach yourself to go back out into the room. It was a rather difficult task as you had enough humiliation for the day. But at the same time, you wanted to spend as much time as you could with him. 

Was addiction to Neil a thing? Because you might have just diagnosed yourself with it, you mused while exiting the bathroom. Outside, you were faced with a surprising yet adorable sight of the man himself curled up on your bed and snoring. His face was relaxed with no frown lines visible, and the abandoned mug of tea steamed on the bedside table. You noticed that he took your blanket and covered himself with it. You could not stop the smile that showed on your face when you took in the image. However, that also left you with a rather difficult decision… He certainly left enough space for you on the bedside facing the wall. But also, that was a bit risky… was it not? You contemplated taking a spare pillow and nodding off on the floor. But as soon as that thought entered your mind, the pathetic side decided to object. Friends are allowed to share a bed right? You sighed, switched off the lights, and carefully stepped over Neil’s form to lie down. You made sure to leave all the space you could before you turned to the wall and let the tiredness take you. As a parting thought, you realised that his presence next to you felt right somehow.

*** Waking up to the sound of your alarm was a harsh experience. Unconsciously, you reached out to turn off the brutal device and sighed with happiness when you succeeded. Only then, your brain began to catch up with reality. And especially with the fact that there was an arm draped over your stomach, with fingers touching the bare skin where your top rode up. The alarm has woken him too as you felt him hug you closer to his chest. You felt a warm breath on the back of your neck.

“I could get used to waking up like this” you shivered at the way his voice reverberated through your chest.

Before you could react, he pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck and followed it with a trail of pecks down your spine, as far as your shirt allowed. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to level breathing. His fingers softly caressing the strip of skin just above the hemline of your trousers made your brain short-circuit. It was all too much. You had to move, or else you could not be responsible for anything that would happen.

Quickly you turned in the embrace to face him. The closeness made your breath hitch. Neil stared at you with a small smile on his lips. You knew that the innocence was nothing but a façade. You had to distract yourself and him, so you scrambled for anything to say. Glancing down at his shirt collar, you found the words:

“Maybe you should stop falling asleep in suits” you aimed for a neutral tone, but the moment his eyes lit up, you knew it was pointless.

“If you wanted me to undress, all you had to do was ask” he smirked when seeing your mild panic.

Bloody fantastic.

He was still too close. And the way he glanced down at your lips for a split second did not help the situation either.

“Right… I’ve had that alarm set for a reason” you rushed to get up and climb over him.

But naturally, Neil had other ideas. When you leaned over him to push yourself up, he took your hands in his, forcing you to lie partially on top of him. You stared in shock, suddenly overwhelmed by the situation. His blue eyes stared back at you with that unreadable expression you have seen before. You took the time to look at him, his wild bed hair and two-day stubble on the chin.

If you were allowed, you could get used to this…

“Is this one of those moments when I should be the voice of reason?” when you found your voice again, it was weirdly hoarse.

“Maybe…” he grinned and squeezed your hands “How’s your burn?”

Only now you actually remembered about your embarrassing moment from the previous night. At the reminder, you felt your face grow warm. The moment was gone.

“It’s fine” you muttered and moved to get up.

This time he let you go, but you were sure you saw a brief look of disappointment on his face.

“What is your plan for today?” he asked while reaching for yesterday’s tea.

You frowned at that.

“Sure you don’t want a new one?” you gestured towards the mug.

“Nah, don’t want your martyrdom to go wasted” he winked and finished the cold drink.

“You really want to get shot, my dear” you mused while eyeing him sharply.

“My dear?” he sat up and looked at you with one eyebrow arched curiously.

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. It was so much easier to talk with him like that when you had a little bit of space preserved.

“You don’t have a monopoly on nicknames”

“Of course not” Neil got up and folded the blanket he used “But it’s nice to hear that you consider me ‘yours’ in any way, my dear” he winked and crossed the room “I’ll see you around later” he kissed you on the cheek and was gone before you could process anything.

In the end, you never got to tell him what your plan for the day was.

*** The next three days went in relative peace. You started to build a pleasant routine in the organization, and ever since he was back, you could incorporate time spent with Neil into it. Every morning you would attend a sparring session (with Ives or whoever was handy), then a shooting training to keep yourself in shape. After that, meetings and missions briefings where you would help with the logistical side of the operations. In the evening, you ate dinner with Neil in the dining hall. Undoubtedly that was a highlight of the day for you when you could use the hour and a half window to get to know him better. Apart from that first blunder in your attempts at friendship-like behaviour, it all went rather smoothly. Neil did his best to cooperate. The only times when he was proving to be difficult were the goodbyes during which he made it his goal to make you flustered. The kisses on the cheek became a routine thing. And so did his tendency to gaze into your eyes for extended periods of time. You did not mind either of those things.

The lack of concrete news about the unfolding plan sometimes made you almost forget about it. But you did not dare relax, remembering TPs words about the upcoming events. And so, you waited patiently, preparing in any way you could think of.

The fragile peace got disrupted during one of your evening meals. You were mid-conversation concerning Neil’s past experiences in the Navy when Ives approached your table:

“Evening lovebirds” you grudgingly accepted the nickname he chose for you both.

“What is it?” Neil instantly sensed trouble, judging by the frown that showed on his face.

“TP is calling us to the US. Urgently” Ives looked at you apologetically “Just me and Neil, sorry love”

“That’s okay” you met Neil’s gaze over the table “You two are more crucial to the whole organization than I am” you shrugged.

Neil looked as though he wanted to argue but chose not to. Luckily.

“When do we have to leave?” he asked Ives.

“Ideally in an hour”

“Shit” he took a moment to gather his thoughts “Okay, I’ll meet you in the reception in 45mins”

Ives only nodded and left without a further word. You stared at Neil, who eyed his half-full plate mournfully.

“At least you’ll get some nice food on the plane” you offered upon seeing his internal debate.

“But the company won’t be as good” he looked up and smiled sadly.

“That’s quite harsh on Ives” you joked, trying to ignore the inexplicable sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Neil laughed, but you could tell that he was worried too. Using the only way you knew to assure him, you reached out across the table and squeezed his hand.

“You should pack” you brushed your thumb over his knuckles “I’ll see you when you’re back”.

He entwined his fingers with yours and met your gaze for a moment. You could see that he was hesitant, as though he wanted to say something you would not like. Then he made up his mind because he released his hold over your hand and got up to stand next to you.

“I’ll miss you” he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

Before you could answer, he left the hall. You took a deep breath, aware of the strange feeling creeping into your brain. Hopefully, it is nothing but anxiety, you sighed and went back to eating, acutely aware of the loneliness.

*** The peace you got when Neil and Ives left lasted for about twelve hours. A good night text from Neil calmed your nerves slightly as it meant he made it safely to the HQs. You tried to get an early night, but it did not happen. Instead, you spent three hours staring at the ceiling in the dark, trying to convince your stubborn brain that it worried for nothing. After all, urgent missions happened all the time, right? Well, your logic was desperately trying not to fail while faced with an irrational voice that never seemed to shut up. In the end, you resorted to taking a sleeping pill and hoping to catch at least 5 hours long nap.

That plan was cut short by a sharp ringing at 7 am coming from your phone resting on the bedside table. You looked at the display to see Ives as the caller ID. This could not be good. A sudden shock made you sit up and pick up the phone despite being barely able to open your eyes.

“Yes?” you cleared your throat when you heard your raspy voice.

“Y/N…” you have never heard Ives’ use your first name.

Fuck… The world went black for a millisecond. You felt lightheaded. Something was terribly wrong.

“What’s going on?” panic was creeping into your voice.

“Neil… he found TP in his room…” his voice was breaking “He’s gone” you heard him take in a shaky breath “TP is gone”

Your heart skipped a beat. Your vision blurred as you reached out to touch the wall to feel something steady beneath your fingertips. For a short second, you forgot how to breathe. Then as you started to struggle for the oxygen, you took greedy breaths, hoping to calm down. It was not working.

“Are you there?” Ives’ panicked voice broke through the paralysis.

“How did it happen?” you choked out the question, feeling tears well up in your eyes.

“He…” Ives stifled a sob “He took a cyanide pill”

You could not stop the sobs that came then. Only after you could take in a full breath, you spoke again.

“Why?”

“No one knows. He saw Neil and me when we arrived. Then I went to sleep, and Neil woke me up” you could hear the strain in his voice.

“How’s he?” you feared the answer to the question.

Somehow you knew there was a reason why it was not him calling you. But the explanation for that was too terrifying to be admitted aloud.

“Bad” the grave tone made you panic again.

“Fuck” you inhaled sharply.

“You should come via the next plane. He has to be in Mumbai by the twentieth, and I don’t think we can sort him out without you”

You winced at the serious tone.

“Okay, I’ll try to get there as soon as I can” you bolted up from the bed “Please try to look after him” you hated the pleading tone.

“I’ll try though it’s hard to do when he’s locked himself in his room and isn’t letting anyone in”

Shit. The dizziness returned, and you leaned on the wall for support. To say that you were worried would be an understatement. Everyone knew how much Neil cared about TP. The helplessness was frustrating. You wanted to scream and let it out.

“Just do what you can” you sighed “Stay strong, Ives”

“Don’t hang up yet”

“Why, what’s wrong?” his sudden change of tone made you even more concerned.

“Nothing, it’s just that I think you should know about something… about Neil”

“Yes?”

“He should be the one telling you but fuck that” he sounded hesitant.

“Ives” the agitation won over any other emotion “Please”

“Neil lost someone very important to him nearly two years ago during a mission. It was an accident, but Neil blames himself for what happened as he was leading the attack”

“Okay…” you needed a moment to process the information.

“I just wanted you to know in case it mattered”

“Thank you… What was their name?” that was the only question you could think of.

“Alex. He was an agent and joined Tenet at the same time Neil did. They were together”

The only immediate thought was that you wished you knew before. Maybe then you could have been a better friend. However, Ives’ took your silence as something else.

“Is that okay?” he sounded genuinely worried.

“Of course, I don’t care who he was with. Only that he’s hurting right now” you glanced at the watch “I should start packing. I’ll see you soon, I hope” you hung up.

You tried your hardest not to breakdown while throwing random clothing articles into the bag. You tried calling Neil, but he has not picked up. You just sent him a message:

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to get there soon”.

There was not much else you could do. Apart from trying to preserve sanity.

*** The plane journey to Boston was a blurry memory. You spent the 8 hours trying not to cry publicly and ignoring the temptation to get drunk to numb the pain and worry. Once you landed, the anxiety got worse. With shaking hands, you went through the customs and into the arrivals hall. All the while, you tried not to think too much about the last time you visited the airport and about Neil’s steady hand guiding you. He still has not responded to your text, and that made you think about the worst. You calmed down your anxious stomach just enough to get into the car sent by the HQ and relaxed into the leather seat. Just twenty minutes now.

But before you could reach any mental clarity, your phone buzzed. You took it out of the pocket and nearly dropped it onto the car floor upon seeing the text. It was from TP. You gasped and unlocked the device to read it.

“When this reaches you, you most likely know what happened. I’m sorry, but there was no other way. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t know that you, Neil, and the rest are ready. I trust you, Y/N, and that’s why I have decided to make you responsible for the logistical side of the plan. Once you’re ready, materials are waiting for you in the inbox. Please take care. I know I don’t have to ask you to help Neil but make sure he doesn’t blame himself”

It was clear that he scheduled the messaged to come through after he was gone. And you had a feeling it was only the first one of many. You only had time to wipe the tears from your eyes before the car parked in front of the Tenet building, and you were forced to get out. Once you got through the security booth, you spotted Ives waiting in the reception hall. He had his head bowed, staring at the floor. None of his usual confidence was there. Once you approached, he sensed company and looked up. You were struck by the dark circles underneath his eyes.

“Hey” suddenly you did not know what to say.

“Thank god you’re here” Ives shook off the hesitation and hugged you tightly.

You returned the embrace, feeling tears well up again. You stepped back and sniffed, accepting the offered tissues. Only now you noticed how quiet and empty it was in the building despite the hour.

“How is the situation?” you did not even know how to ask any specific questions.

“Very bad” Ives frowned, and you felt like he was holding back.

“Take me to him, please” you shivered involuntarily.

He did not need more convincing and started leading you through the corridors.

“He hasn’t left the room since midnight when I last saw him” Ives started speaking, “I’m pretty sure he’s drinking” he stopped in front of a regular door in yet another corridor.

“Right… Has he let anyone in?” you strained to hear any potential sounds from within, but there was nothing.

“No” Ives shook his head.

You could tell that he was incredibly tired and worried. You had to be the strong one this time.

“Why do you think I’ll be different?”

You placed one shaky hand on the surface of the door.

“Because it’s you” you could tell he was barely restraining the urge to roll his eyes “You’re probably the only person he cares about”

Despite the gravity of the situation, you felt your face grow warm. You took a deep breath to calm down and raised a fist to rap on the door. At first, there was nothing. The panic kept rising.

“Neil, it’s me” you leaned your head against the door “I’m sorry…” with tears streaming down your cheeks, you tried to find the right words “Please let me in. I just want to see you…” you glanced at Ives who looked almost uncomfortable.

Suddenly you heard faint sounds coming from the room. Rustling, the unmistakable clang of an empty glass bottle hitting the floor and the footsteps stopping just by the door.

“Please go” you mouthed at Ives, who only nodded and rushed down the corridor.

You took a step back and waited, with the heart in your throat. After agonising few seconds, the lock clicked, and the door opened. Nothing prepared you for the sight you saw.

Neil’s hair was sticking out in every direction. His eyes were red-rimmed and paired with dark shadows underneath. He still wore the clothes you saw him in the day before. But probably the worst was how obviously drunk he was, barely able to stay upright by the door. When his unfocused eyes landed on you, he attempted a smile. It ended up looking like a tragic scowl. He opened the door wider for you and went back inside. You took a second to gather your thoughts and followed him, shutting the door behind you.

Once inside, you took the time to scan the room and analyse the situation. Neil sat down on the edge of the bed, which was entirely unmade. The floor was covered in random bits of paper he must have tossed from the table. You counted at least two empty bottles of alcohol lying amidst the mess as well. Taking a deep breath, you faced Neil. He was looking at you, but his eyes lacked their usual spark.

“I’m sorry” he breathed out, and your eyes widened.

“What for?” you were not expecting that.

“They sent you to get me sorted” you did not like the dark look in his eyes “That can’t be an ideal job. Even for you”

“Neil” the stern tone made him focus on your words “I’m not here because they asked me to come. I’m here for you” you took a step closer and knelt to be levelled with him “I was worried” you admitted finally.

“Fuck… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” his slightly slurred rambling made you even more acutely aware of his state.

“No, don’t apologise” you interrupted him; TP’s text message fresh on your mind “None of this is your fault. And my job here is to make sure you understand that” gently, you reached out to brush the hair away from his eyes.

You did not know whether it was what you said or what you did, but at that moment, he seemed to break. Before you could react, he slid down onto the floor and started crying with heart-wrenching sobs. It took you a second to change position and put your arms around him. He leaned into the embrace.

“He’s gone” he choked out after a few seconds of silence.

“I know” you run a hand along his back in a soothing motion “But you don’t have to tell me more. It’s alright, I’m here” you whispered, feeling him shake.

At that, he just started sobbing more violently. You could only sit there, holding him and letting your own tears fall silently. You will be okay someday. You hoped.

[avengerscompound]

The Tower: Family - 27

The Tower: Family An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 1740

Warnings:  Pregnancy, mentions of past child abuse, little angsty

Synopsis: With new powers, Thor now living on Earth full time, a wedding to plan, and Natasha and Wanda expecting, a lot is changing for Elly and her large and rather unconventional family.  When Elise’s parents try to reestablish connections, Elly questions what being a family actually means.

Chapter 27: The Blank Check

While the babies stayed in the medbay in intensive care I decided it was about time that my mother met Tony and Steve, and if that went well, Riley and Pietro too. It had been over six months since that meeting with her and dad, and with the babies all coming now, it wouldn’t be long until I would have the babies around me all the time and the decision of whether I let her meet my children or not would be a decision about whether I kept working to have a mother/daughter relationship with her at all.  It was time to shit or get off the pot.

I invited mom to come up and have morning tea with me.  Steve and Tony would be there too and if that went well FRIDAY could tell one of the others to bring Riley and Pietro down.  

I spent that night with Wanda and the babies and after we had breakfast and she fed them I headed up to prepare.  Everyone else had agreed to give us space and had gone to either visit Wanda and the twins or went down to the garden to play with the dogs and Riley and Pietro.  I had the cooks prepare a spread of small cakes and finger sandwiches along with tea and coffee.  When FRIDAY announced that she was coming up in the elevator I got up quickly.

“You both wait here,” I said to Tony and Steve.

Tony looked more nervous than I felt.  I wasn’t sure why I was so nervous.  I’d spent so much time with my mom lately, it wasn’t like being reunited with a stranger.  I guess I just felt like this was it.  Yes, I could cut her out if things turned toxic later, but if I introduced her to Riley and Pietro today, they’d go from having no grandparents to having one and I wouldn’t want to be the one that took that away from them.

“El,” Steve said gently.  “Everything is going to be fine.”

I nodded and went to the elevator.  It opened up just as I got to it and mom stepped out.  She looked even more nervous than I felt.  She had a couple of large gift bags in her hands and she looked around the entryway in awe. It was her first time in the penthouse, so I wasn’t exactly surprised she was impressed by it.  “Elise, honey,” she said, kissing my cheek.  “I heard that Wanda had her babies, so I bought some presents.  And some for Riley and Pietro too.”

“That’s really nice, mom,” I said, leading her inside.  “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.  I just…”  She didn’t finish her sentence but I knew what she was going to say.  She really wanted to meet them.

I led her past the stairs and around the corner to the dining table where Tony and Steve were standing.  Tony fidgeted on his feet as Steve stood with his hands behind his back.  “Mom, this is Tony and Steve,” I said.  “Steve, Tony, this is my mom, Jennifer.”

“Yes, of course,” mom said, as Steve stepped forward to shake her hand.  “I know you both.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jennifer,” Steve said, shaking her hand.

“Please, it’s Jenny,” mom said.

“Jenny,” he said with a nod.  “Take a seat.”

Mom sat down and Steve and I sat near her.  Tony sat a little further away on the other side of me.

“Have I met everyone now?”  Mom asked.

“Yeah, these are the last two,” I said.  “To be brutally honest with you mom, I held back with them because I figured if you were lying to me, these were the two you were using me to get to.”

She frowned and nodded.  The information obviously hurt but she seemed to understand.  “I get it.  I’m glad you’re trusting me more.”

“While we’re all being brutally honest,” Tony said.  “Not all of us wanted you to get involved in her life.”

She nodded again.  “I know.  And I might deserve that,” she said.  “But I am grateful that I was given a chance.  And I know you were involved with setting me up in the city and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you for that.”

“So if I was to offer you a million dollars to leave us alone?”  Tony asked.

Mom looked at him like she’d been hit by a truck.  Her mouth opened and closed like a fish as she tried to grasp the full gravity of what he’d just said.

“I’m completely serious,” Tony said, pulling out his checkbook.  “A million not enough?  Five?  Will five do it?  How about ten?"  He started to scribble out on his checkbook.  "I’ll tell you what Mrs. Cooper, I’ll sign this and write your name right here, and you can fill in exactly the amount you think your daughter is worth.  Because that’s what you wanted right?  For her to marry rich and you and your husband could get your big fat dowry right?  Well, she did just like you wanted.  She got the richest.  If my money isn’t good enough, maybe we can dip into the Asgardian pot.”

Mom looked at me in shock. “Is this what you want, Elise?”

I could feel myself tearing up and I wasn’t sure exactly what factor of what was happening right now was affecting me the most.  Tony’s aggressive overprotectiveness or the fact I was a little worried that my mom would take it.  Over the past few months, the thread that joined me to her had gotten thicker and brighter.  The thought of her ruining all that by picking up the check hurt.

“Of course not,” I said.

“If it’s hurting you, I can leave you alone,” mom said.   “I’ve hurt you enough.  I don’t want the money.  I want you to be okay.”

I started crying and Tony took the blank check and tore it into pieces.  “That’s what I was hoping to hear.”

“Did you have to be so dramatic?”  Steve scolded as he pulled me close and rubbed my back.

“Sorry, honey.  I just wanted you to be sure,” he said.

I shook my head and my mom moved closer and took my hand.  I looked into her eyes and she looked back at me seriously.  “Elise, I am sorry for standing by so passively while your father hurt you the way he did.  For raising you to believe you’d ever done anything to deserve it and that all you could expect in life was more of the same.  I’m sorry it took me so long to accept your sexuality.  If I could go back and change things I would.  But I’m so proud of you.  I’m proud of everything you’ve done.  I might not understand it all, but you have a beautiful family that makes you happy and that is the least you deserve.”

I was weeping openly by the time she was done and launched myself into her arms.  She held me close.  The way I held Riley or Pietro when they were upset.  The way moms are supposed to hold their daughters.  The way I’d wish she’d hold me back when my father would hurt me.  I didn’t feel resentful though.  I felt grateful that after all this, I’d finally become the priority.  I felt grateful that I had a chance to have my mom be my mom.

“FRIDAY?”  I said, keeping my head buried in my mom’s neck.  “Can you…?”

“Of course, Doctor Cooper,” she replied.

“Alright.  How about we eat?”  Steve said, rubbing my back. “Elise had very specific ideas about what morning tea was.”

“Right,” mom said, rubbing my back and letting me gently pull away from her embrace.  “Of course.  So tell me about the new babies.”

“They are precious,” Steve said.  “The tiniest little things.  Our other two were more premature, but they were bigger, I’m sure of it.”

“I don’t think so, Steve,” I giggled.  “You’re just used to the bruiser that Riley has become.”

“Well whatever the case, they are so small they can each fit in the palm of Thor’s hand,” Steve said.

The elevator dinged and a moment later Clint appeared around the corner holding both Riley and Pietro’s hands.  Mom turned in her chair and gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.  “Is this… are they?”

“Mom,” I said, getting up and waving Clint over.  “This is Pietro and Riley.”

She got down on one knee in front of them.  “Hello, little ones, look at you,” she said, touching their faces.  “Oh my goodness, you have your mother’s eyes.”

Riley looked up at Clint.  “Who’s dis?”

“That’s your grandma,” Clint said, as mom started laughing.

“We don’t dot a gwandma,” Pietro said, eyeing his grandmother suspiciously.

“I’ve been away.  I’m so sorry,” she said.  “I’m back now.  I have presents.”

“Pwesents?”  Pietro asked.

“Is dat cake?”  Riley added, pointing at the table.

Mom laughed as Clint helped her back up.  “You come open your presents and have some cake.  I really want to hear all about you both.”

They ran over to the table excitedly and climbed up on the chairs.  Mom picked up the present bags by her chair and looked at me, tears pricking her eyes.  “Thank you, Elise,” she said quietly.

“You’re welcome,” I said.  “If you would like we can go see Rose and Sarah on your way out.”

“I would love that,” she said.  “Thank you.”  She turned back to the kids and gave them the gift bags.  "I wasn’t sure what your favorite things were.  So I hope you like what I got you.  You’ll have to show me the kinds of things you like best though.”

The kids began opening their presents and mom got them each a cupcake and some milk and gave it to them.  I let FRIDAY know the others could come up if they wanted.  Steve wrapped his arm around me as I watched my mom fussing over the kids.  “Is this how you hoped it might be?”  He whispered.

I nodded and turned, cuddling into him.  “Better,” I said.

“Well, sweetheart,” he replied.  “You deserve it.  I hope you know that.”

I nodded, and for once, the trauma of my past didn’t raise its head to tell me otherwise.  This time, I completely believed that I did.

// NEXT